TextSpace

I missed responding last week, but I’ll respond to both here as I believe Enzensberger and Auden are related.

Enzensberger didn’t use the word, but I am always taken that literary theory often ‘interrogates’ a text, which is the concept he had me thinking throughout. And although he doesn’t offer any solutions to allowing students to choose their poetry versus academic measure (and after thinking about the class discussion), I don‘t expect any solutions.

In a personal context, an “extreme reader response” (Sherwood) is fine--people can agree to disagree (or fight it out) and walk away. But in an educational context, the relationship between teacher and student requires an assessment/grade, and I can’t think of a way around this necessary evil; interpreting poetry seems to be such a personal act which ideally should be above judgment.

This “freedom” to interpret can be brought through Auden as the freedom to express (I think the writing bug is more about expression than creation). Why writing? It’s typically is low tech (pencil, paper), copying is relatively cheap (to a point, if distributing is a goal), and one high tech step (computer and internet) gets around print copy and distribution entirely. On this last one, it is incredible the amount of writing that occurs online: the amount of time people spend contributing to blogs (us), personal websites, Amazon reviews, in-depth product reviews, Wikipedia entries, etc (and anything where an opinion is requested). Combine writing with poetry as perhaps the most personal form of expression (especially ambiguous works), along with it being elitist (or perceived as such, like appreciaters of classical music) and often subversive or at least challenging (a catch-22 may be that poetry as a more popular, lucrative field would destroy its power; and the ratio of co-opted poetry would be larger), and I can see why Auden would hold poets as relatively pure (and difficult to manage).

Also on Auden, I liked the connection between the illiterate peasant and the poet, and although they may have similar reservations about authority, the perspective may be different (not that Auden implies the following): suspicions may develop from not enough knowledge of a system, the other from too much knowledge of system (and the middle having just enough knowledge and apathy to participate successfully); regretfully, my immediate thought was that it would be the poet who would have too much knowledge (assuming here a keen eye), but a poet may be as naïve to a situation as the “peasant” is wise.

I had the same initial reaction as Whitney, viewing Hughes' assumption as initially unfair, that the young man wanted to be a poet in some white sense because he did not want to be a "Negro poet." But Hughes then puts this in the context of black culture sacrificing too much if the goal is recognition or having a voice within the dominant, white culture of poetry and the arts. Everything Hughes expresses makes sense, and I agree completely. But in addition, while there needs to be African-American artists who recognize and celebrate the values of their culture, there needs to be African-Americans who creatively work with whatever culture they most identify with, as well as African-Americans working toward some universal ideal that transcends one culture. (I continued with African-Americans because of the essay but my comments apply to everyone.) I think you always need individuals working both outside and inside a dominant (or perceived as such) culture, and believe Hughes is focusing on the outside, particularly his stating, "If white people are pleased we are glad. If they are not, it doesn't matter" as well as Hughes even going further by allowing the artist to be outside the very culture he or she represents with "If colored people are pleased we are glad. If they are not, their displeasure doesn't matter either." Which is great.

Here is our poem for Thursday, by Billy Collins, followed by some initial discussion questions. Dj has put together some nice quotations by and about Mr. Collins at our wiki niche:
http://sherwoodweb.org/wiki/index.php/Billy_Collins

McGann on publishing was excellent. How poets approach publishing never crossed my mind. It was very interesting that Yeats knew his most receptive audience and targeted his publishing efforts accordingly. Stein’s struggles with the whole process was even more interesting. But the best (for me) was the Dickinson and Morris parts. “Very few who did [self-publish] saw their financial interest in such publishing ventures as an imaginative opportunity [as Morris did]” (23) really sums up the creative and interpretive control Morris realized could be had in experimenting with the frontline details of printing.

Until I read McGann, I dismissed ornamentation in poetry (and with most text) as distracting and unnecessary, that the words could and should stand on their own. But I was wrong because ornamentation is no different that using italics or boldface or different fonts/typefaces. With Dickinson, although the most of the misrepresentations were editorial, I was struck how just putting her poetry into typeface as faithfully as possible never really succeeds. And I noticed how much better I liked reading Morris’ “The Weariness of November” in the typeface he chose than had I read it in the regular blah type (like we’re using).

I’m not sure why I dismissed ornamentation and the like. I do like books that tell you the typeface used (rare anymore) and editions that preserve misspellings, because these details seem significant (but hard to argue for) or just nice to know (as in the typeface). I have an edition of Huck Finn that keeps all the errors and this is what I want, whether or not Twain authorized or was grateful for “corrected” versions, because only Twain should be correcting Twain. Now I’m going to be wondering how Dickinson handwrote the next poem of hers I read.

An aside, I liked the bulleted objections that appeared to come from nowhere.

Tino

On Baraka, I was impressed by the first half of this excerpt, with all its great, quotable lines, and especially his distinguishing thought and the art ‘process’ (“its only form is possibility”) from the art ‘artifact’ (“only important because it remarks on its source“), and how the artist is “cursed with his artifact, which exists without and despite him.” This last quote is similar to our discussions on poems being interpreted and remaining “alive” when the poets are dead (or alive and authorial intent ignored). The first part, about separating thought and material is similar to the view that language is at best an inadequate representation of thought, although I never thought to privilege thinking itself over its product.

But, beginning with the second half, is the “imitator” all that bad (“eats garbage”?)? I understand that if the original production is garbage (as it is the remains of thought), the imitator is worse because he or she didn’t “think” (use the process) the garbage into material existence. But doesn’t the imitator preserve the work of those gone (whether it’s Charlie Parker or oral poetry)? Baraka’s value judgments are difficult (for me) to take at this point (although I did appreciate his defining form versus content, which I may finally understand as separate).

I originally thought I understood the “unnatural” versus “artificial” part, but I don’t. Perhaps I need an example of good art (versus the “bad art”) that appears to exist “without being made by a man.” Despite all the value judgments, again, the first part was very insightful and seemed to relate to our recent discussions.

Jarrell, arguing that modernism began as an extreme of romantic poetry, reminds me of the argument by some that postmodernism is really just an extreme within modernism; I suspect that Jarrell would have agreed with that as he states “[M]odernism is a limit which is impossible to exceed.” But while I like the evolutionary (“not revolutionary”) point, is he suggesting (consciously or not) that poetry itself has reached some evolutionary ceiling through modernism? The editorial intro states that Jarrell views modernist poetry as the “end of the line for a cultural form of poetry.” I wonder if this refers to Western culture or some smaller definition., such as the cultures of academia, the literati, or poets (knowing that there are multiple cultures within each).

Further on this evolutionary aspect, I find it hard to imagine that modernism could not eventually evolve into something else, something that is just difficult to foresee, even by poets and thinkers of poetry; here I’m just jumbling any postmodern contributions to poetry with those of modernism as I thought Jarrell’s thirteen characteristics of modernist poetry (272-73) were great and could possibly cover postmodern poetry (in form, not necessarily content [I know Brooks wouldn't split these two]).

I like Jay’s question about what does Jarrell want us to do with this evolutionary line; for me, it further lowers my defenses with modernist poetry (even though his thirteen points were presented unflatteringly) and has me thinking evolutionarily about all poetry (I was certainly thinking ‘revolutionary’ stages before, although these must exist at times, too). I very much enjoyed the Jarrell read.

See you all in class,
Tino

1. At certain points with “discontinuity” in poetry, does she essentially mean space and allusion (“assimilation of external contexts”)? Could we characterize continuity in ordinary language as no-space and reference (vs. allusion)? Maybe we could discuss discontinuity and continuity in both ordinary language and poetic language (including how she defines “language”).

2. Do you agree that prose has dormant rhythm? In the BBC example, do you think rhythm was found or created?

3. Other than the use of line-spacing, are the other techniques (used in the BBC example) unique to poetry?

4. If we have time: F-T states, “If poetry cannot control the meanings and feelings generated by the words it uses, its worth is reduced.” Can poetry have this control?

See you all in class,
Tino

With Chapter 4, I liked the chess analogy (58, top) that Easthope uses with syllable stress being “relativized by the context” and was impressed that he went on to prove it (in my mind) by the “stated price” example where the metre context changes the stress (prominence); reading aloud helped me here, although I can only pick up the difference every other time I read it; it is strange to feel “subject” change in stress by what precedes it.

Again, when entering into ideological connections I am apprehensive, except with the argument that pentameter “requires full pronunciation” (69, top) and perpetuates proper speech and “class dialect”, which is really a great point and connection.

I enjoyed this chapter because it was both a history and linguistic lesson. I was unaware that poetry could raise so many micro-linguistic issues (stress vs. accent, certain metres as more natural to a language). By Easthope focusing on just the web of issues within iambic pentameter, poetry is shown to be very insightful at the linguistic level (i.e., not just at an aesthetic one).

In case anyone else has a problem with downloading Easthope 6-10, Dr. Sherwood suggested to right click and hit "Save Target As", which worked fine.

(help!) In thinking about next week, if anyone could email me the Easthope 6-10 Pdf as an attachment (vbjf@iup.edu), I would be very grateful as I (alone?) am having problems downloading it.

I initially understand Easthope far better than Brooks (except on paradox) and Eliot (happy birthday, TS). Easthope comes at all this very logically and methodically, and with great excerpts. For me, one major standout idea or summation is “what differentiates /big/ from /pig/ is the sound, not the intention of the speaker” (12), soon followed by the concept that the original context is one of infinite contexts. However, I begin to lose Easthope when turning to the chapters on ideology (is this necessary after convincingly arguing material discourse?) and subjectivity--particularly with subjectivity involving psychoanalysis which requires me to accept quite a bit in order to stay with Easthope at this point.

On Lowell—such a great voice that I didn’t mind being prescribed (helped) how to read poetry. Her Shakespeare example, how his words have benefited from being spoken, convinced me of her whole stance. As an aside, people say/said “winde”? It was interesting to read a practical take on speaking versus writing after reading Easthope on Derrida theoretically. It was a very enlightening read and the first author from this anthology (so far) that I immediately want to read more from.

I’m going to comment on Brooks after class tonight because I disagree with so much of it that I suspect I’m reading it wrong (particularly because I agreed so much with his take on paradox).

For now, I’ll comment on the question that came up at the end of class, so this is for anyone who cares to read further:

“What we may get from reading poetry we don’t understand?” For me, I’m not completely susceptible to authorial intent or meaning. Just a few months ago I would not even finish a poem I did not understand, but this Spring I had a course with Dr. Alvine who had an opening exercise where she would read a poem aloud three times, asking us to privately write any impressions we had after each of the three readings. The poems were often ambiguous with the title and author omitted, which forced us to focus on structure, word choice (odd or interesting words), personal associations, rhyme if any, etc., rather than authorial intent or meaning. (Her own intent was for us to have a more pure, initial reader response.) So I would have this poem in front of me, having no idea what it meant, but liking or disliking it for reasons other than intent and meaning. But when the title was revealed, I was able to maintain my version--I had two versions, mine and the author’s. Before doing these exercises, I would always immediately dismiss my interpretation if it differed from the authorial intent (if discernible). This also allowed me to much better understand and experience text as having no meaning in itself without interpretation.

This is probably why I’m now stumbling on Brooks who does not separate structure from meaning, does not see the creator choosing the medium first, and is speaking with more absolutes in these two chapters (if I understand him correctly).

See you in class!

My understanding of Brooks is that paradox is an element of poetry that may resonate with readers (or listeners) in otherwise unremarkable poetry. Although the existence of paradox does not in itself make for a good poem (in concluding Chapter 7, he states that paradox may explain both the “virtues and weaknesses” of Wordsworth’s “Ode”), Brooks could have titled the book “Paradox In Poetry” as he seems very taken with it, at least in these chapters. I thought the strongest argument for the power of paradox was his brief statement about important insights as often given in paradoxical form (18).

About the title, I was guilty of thinking that “well wrought” (with no thought to “urn”) just represented a New Critic emphasizing perfection or some essential quality that can be found in works, so I was surprised that the title has a humble origin in the “Canonization.”

I like the possibility that a work can be separated from its author, so I liked that Brooks suggests that Wordsworth himself may not have been completely aware of everything his “Ode” communicates, and I certainly thought that Brooks (and Coleridge and Richards) would not hesitate to disagree with Wordsworth himself, could he be resurrected, on the meaning of the poem.

First, in response to both Lucas on ambiguity and Rachal on authorial intent, I initially had a strong negative reaction to very ambiguous poetry precisely because I could not understand or confirm authorial intent--I needed to know what an author meant in order for me to decide whether or not I liked (or even agreed with) a poem. After being introduced to reader response theory(ies), I have relaxed, but I still have urges for the definitive interpretation (I was wishing we had access to ferry and tower personnel so we could know what was really going on in "Ferry").

Second, the Hollander book is just excellent. When I first flipped through it, I assumed all the poems (or verse) were just examples I could skim (maybe skip) when I wanted. Once I realized what he was doing, I was happy to be disappointed (you know what I mean). I have already reread several definitions in verse, and I can actually visualize some of the forms, such as limerick's "short lines in the middle" as "best" and, of course, pattern-poems and concrete poetry (in thinking about what Rachal said, can an ancient pattern-poem be "modern?"). In contrast, Cook's intro was a very dense read that had me more digesting than pondering it. I did read the brief Zukofsky piece, but I don't understand "interplay of concepts", so I will have to look into the examples (he only names them) he cited.