My philosopher friend is explaining again
that the bottle of well-chilled beer in my hand
might not be a bottle of beer,
that the trickle of bottle-sweat cooling in my palm
might not be wet, might not be cool,
that in fact it’s impossible ever to know
if I’m holding a bottle at all.
I try to follow his logic, flipping the steaks
that are almost certainly hissing
over the bed of coals – coals I’d swear
were black at first, then gray, then red –
coals we could spread out and walk on
and why not, I ask, since we’ll never be sure
if our feet burn, if our soles
blister and peel, if our faithlessness
is any better or worse a tool
than the firewalker’s can-do extreme.
Exactly, he smiles. Behind the fence
the moon rises, or seems to.
Have another. Whatever else is true,
the coals feel hotter than ever
as the darkness begins to do
what darkness does. Another what? I ask.
The poem “Knowledge” by Philip Memmer describes a philosopher questioning his friend’s perceptions of reality and causing him to rethink what he is perceiving. I have first-hand experience of this kind of questioning as my dad is a philosopher, and he and the philosopher in the poem ask similar questions. While my dad does not ask about how one perceives reality, he does ask questions about how sure one is are of what one knows, dealing with values in science. One part of the poem that I could especially relate to is when the narrator says his “philosopher friend is explaining again” (Memmer 1). This is because my dad is constantly telling my family and me facts and information about philosophy that we often do not remember, and we have a similar reaction to the narrator, somewhat tired of being told again.
I find it very interesting how the narrator’s understanding of what the philosopher is telling him improves as the poem progresses. Toward the beginning of “Knowledge,” the narrator says, “I try to follow his logic,” when being told he cannot be sure if he is even holding a bottle (Memmer 8). This is a relatable feeling of trying to follow something that one does not completely understand. At end of the poem, however, the narrator finally seems to have a good grasp of the philosopher’s lesson, even saying how the moon only appears to rise in line 19. His taking this much time to comprehend makes it especially enjoyable for the reader because, at the same time that the narrator understands what the philosopher means, the reader understands too.
Memmer shows the importance of knowledge several times throughout “Knowledge.” One example is when the narrator states [t]hat in fact it’s impossible ever to know” (Memmer 6). This shows how the way one views the world might not be accurate, and they must be careful with what they think or say they know. Later in the poem, the narrator says, “And why not, I ask, since we’ll never be sure / if our feet burn,” wondering whether or not walking on hot coals is safe (Memmer 13-14). Even if one is not completely confident in what they know, it does not mean they should not use that knowledge to think through our actions and make responsible decisions; walking on hot coals is a bad decision even if he cannot be sure if his feet burn. The very beginning of the poem shows knowledge the best, though, when the philosopher tells the narrator that the bottle of beer the he is holding may not actually be a bottle of beer and that the sweat in his hand may not actually be wet. The philosopher questions the narrator’s fundamental perceptions and shows one cannot always trust what they think they know.