Comments on: Chillin’ More With the Villies http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/ Thu, 12 Jan 2012 08:40:04 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.2.1 By: Annie Finch http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14973 Annie Finch Tue, 30 Jun 2009 05:53:58 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14973 I am moved by this comment Desmond. it reminds me of what Robert Creeley said at what I think was his last reading, in a bookstore at the Virginia festival of the book. He sat on a table and swung his legs and was so direct. And the impact of death was in the room. He said something like, "now I see it has all really been very simple all along. It's about humanity and being kind to each other. Nothing else matters." I think I've posted about that reading at greater length somewhere online. I am moved by this comment Desmond. it reminds me of what Robert Creeley said at what I think was his last reading, in a bookstore at the Virginia festival of the book. He sat on a table and swung his legs and was so direct. And the impact of death was in the room. He said something like, “now I see it has all really been very simple all along. It’s about humanity and being kind to each other. Nothing else matters.” I think I’ve posted about that reading at greater length somewhere online.
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]]> By: thomas brady http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14760 thomas brady Sun, 28 Jun 2009 17:45:37 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14760 T.S. Eliot--grandson, William Greenleaf Eliot (founder of Washington U., St. Louis, classmate of Ralph Waldo Emerson, married sister of transcendalist poet Christopher Pease Cranch)--who published his rant against Poe, 'From Poe to Valery' in 1949, the year Ashbery graduated from Harvard, created, in the first half of the 20th century, the template for all modernist erudition to follow. In his 1942 lecture, "The Music of Poetry," Eliot is, as usual, saying excellent things, but also things which are nothing but fudge. Eliot was something like his ancestor, Emerson, in this, who had a tendency to throw a great deal against the wall, hoping some of it would stick. One often reads, in Emerson, and Eliot, profundity in proximity to pure trash, an elegance lacking facts and details to back up its arguments. “No one has better cause to know than I, that a great deal of bad prose has been written under the name of free verse; though whether its authors wrote bad prose or bad verse, or bad verse in one style or in another, seems to me a matter of indifference. But only a bad poet could welcome free verse as a liberation from form. It was a revolt against dead form, and a preparation for new form or the renewal of the old; it was insistence upon the inner unity which is unique to every poem, against the outer unity which is typical. The poem comes from the form, in the sense that a form grows out of the attempt of somebody to say something; just as a system of prosody is only a formulation of the identities in the rhythms of a succession of poets influenced by each other.” The confusion here, in which Eliot is at pains to clarify that bad verse or bad prose is, most importantly, bad, and all that matters is that the writing in question (whether prose or verse) is bad, arises from the vague manifesto-ism which he and his colleagues created in the first place. Here is the older, successful man of Letters apologizing for the idiocy of his 'old gang ways.' Such an apology is necessary because the Modernists were NOT specific in their obsevations; where's the specificity in Emerson, in Pound, in Eliot? Where is their 'Rationale of Verse?' If you're going to make a fuss--which Eliot is still doing here--about 'the revolt against dead form,' you have to be specific. Eliot is being irresponsible, and surely he knows it, for he is tacitly opening the gates to 'bad prose,' vindicated under a banner of vagueness: 'revolt against dead form!' Is Shelley 'dead form?' Is he, or not? Fashion may indeed say it is so, and with rhetoric so vague, any sort of unfortunate things can happen. Pedagogy is serious business. Manifesto-ism is not a game. One affects countless generations of young minds. One shouldn't be sloppy. Eliot posits a good 'inner unity' against a bad 'outer unity,' but this is irresponsible, opium-eating nonsense, the goofy romantic side of Emerson in operation, for if the word 'unity' is properly used, we cannot presuppose a 'inner' unity AND a 'outer' unity--it doesn't compute. It creates a straw man: 'outer unity' which is 'typical' to be knocked over by a 'unique' and 'inner unity' which is not defined. For Eliot to say that 'form' grows out of 'the attempt of somebody to say something' is brilliant, if somewhat vague. If prose is 'somebody saying something,' then poetry is 'the attempt of somebody to say something' and perhaps here is the discriminating definition at last. Even the purest Imagism is still 'the attempt of somebody to say something.' But what of Eliot's famous 'dissociation of sensibility?' The younger Eliot was once certain how crucial 'the attempt of somebody to say something' depended on the correspondence of feeling and object, but here Eliot's 'form' arises out of an 'attempt to say,' a problematic formula, since 'attempt' opens the door to, well, Ashbery-ism, an exquisite and pleasant 'attempt' or seeming 'attempt,' to say something. But this is finally too vague, and even crude, as Eliot's rejection of Milton and the Romantics was, based on what must be seen as the absurd 'dissociation of sensibility' theory. Here is a far more reasonable description (written before Eliot was born) of the difference between the Metaphysicals and the Romantics: "Almost every devout reader of the old English bards, if demanded his opinion of their productions, would mention vaguely, yet with perfect sincerity, a sense of dreamy, wild, indefinite, and he would perhaps say, undefinable delight. Upon being required to point out the source of this so shadowy pleasure, he would be apt to speak of the quaint in phraseology and of the grotesque in rhythm. And this quaintness and grotesqueness are, as we have elsewhere endeavored to show, very powerful, and if well managed, very admissible adjuncts to Ideality. But in the present instance they arise independently of the author's will, and are matters altogether apart from his intention. The American Monthly has forcibly painted the general character of the old English Muse. She was a maid, frank, guileless, and perfectly sincere, and although very learned at times, still very learned without art. No general error evinces a more thorough confusion of ideas than the error of supposing Donne and Cowley metaphysical in the sense wherein Wordsworth and Coleridge are so. With the two former ethics were the end -- with the two latter the means. The poet of the Creation wished, by highly artificial verse, to inculcate what he considered moral truth -- he of the Ancient Mariner to infuse the Poetic Sentiment through channels suggested by mental analysis. The one finished by complete failure what he commenced in the grossest misconception -- the other, by a path which could not possibly lead him astray, arrived at a certainty and intensity of triumph which is not the less brilliant and glorious because concentrated among the very few who have the power to perceive it. It will now be seen that even the "metaphysical verse" of Cowley is no more than evidence of the straight-forward simplicity and single-heartedness of the man. And he was in all this but a type of his - school -- for we may as well designate in this way the entire class of writers whose poems are bound up in the volume before us, and throughout all of whom runs a very perceptible general character. They used but little art in composition. Their writings sprang immediately from the soul -- and partook intensely of the nature of that soul. It is not difficult to perceive the tendency of this glorious - abandon. To elevate immeasurably all the energies of mind -- but again -- so to mingle the greatest possible fire, force, delicacy, and all good things, with the lowest possible bathos, baldness, and utter imbecility, as to render it not a matter of doubt, but of certainty, that the average results of mind in such a - school, will be found inferior to those results in one (ceteris paribus) more artificial. Such, we think, is the view of the older English Poetry, in which a very calm examination will bear us out. The quaintness in manner of which we were just speaking, is an adventitious advantage. It formed no portion of the poet's intention. Words and their rhythm have varied. Verses which affect us today with a vivid delight, and which delight in some instances, may be traced to this one source of grotesqueness and to none other, must have worn in the days of their construction an air of a very common-place nature. This is no argument, it will be said, against the poems - now. Certainly not -- we mean it for the poets - then. The notion of - power, of excessive - power, in the English antique writers should be put in its proper light. This is all we desire to see done." The author of the above passage is by none other than that working critic, Edgar Poe. "No general error evinces a more thorough confusion of ideas than the error of supposing Donne and Cowley metaphysical in the sense wherein Wordsworth and Coleridge are so. With the two former ethics were the end -- with the two latter the means." Here we see the great "error" of Eliot expressed tersely, concisely, wittily and prfoundly. T.S. Eliot–grandson, William Greenleaf Eliot (founder of Washington U., St. Louis, classmate of Ralph Waldo Emerson, married sister of transcendalist poet Christopher Pease Cranch)–who published his rant against Poe, ‘From Poe to Valery’ in 1949, the year Ashbery graduated from Harvard, created, in the first half of the 20th century, the template for all modernist erudition to follow.

In his 1942 lecture, “The Music of Poetry,” Eliot is, as usual, saying excellent things, but also things which are nothing but fudge. Eliot was something like his ancestor, Emerson, in this, who had a tendency to throw a great deal against the wall, hoping some of it would stick. One often reads, in Emerson, and Eliot, profundity in proximity to pure trash, an elegance lacking facts and details to back up its arguments.

“No one has better cause to know than I, that a great deal of bad prose has been written under the name of free verse; though whether its authors wrote bad prose or bad verse, or bad verse in one style or in another, seems to me a matter of indifference. But only a bad poet could welcome free verse as a liberation from form. It was a revolt against dead form, and a preparation for new form or the renewal of the old; it was insistence upon the inner unity which is unique to every poem, against the outer unity which is typical. The poem comes from the form, in the sense that a form grows out of the attempt of somebody to say something; just as a system of prosody is only a formulation of the identities in the rhythms of a succession of poets influenced by each other.”

The confusion here, in which Eliot is at pains to clarify that bad verse or bad prose is, most importantly, bad, and all that matters is that the writing in question (whether prose or verse) is bad, arises from the vague manifesto-ism which he and his colleagues created in the first place. Here is the older, successful man of Letters apologizing for the idiocy of his ‘old gang ways.’ Such an apology is necessary because the Modernists were NOT specific in their obsevations; where’s the specificity in Emerson, in Pound, in Eliot? Where is their ‘Rationale of Verse?’

If you’re going to make a fuss–which Eliot is still doing here–about ‘the revolt against dead form,’ you have to be specific. Eliot is being irresponsible, and surely he knows it, for he is tacitly opening the gates to ‘bad prose,’ vindicated under a banner of vagueness: ‘revolt against dead form!’ Is Shelley ‘dead form?’ Is he, or not? Fashion may indeed say it is so, and with rhetoric so vague, any sort of unfortunate things can happen.

Pedagogy is serious business. Manifesto-ism is not a game. One affects countless generations of young minds. One shouldn’t be sloppy.

Eliot posits a good ‘inner unity’ against a bad ‘outer unity,’ but this is irresponsible, opium-eating nonsense, the goofy romantic side of Emerson in operation, for if the word ‘unity’ is properly used, we cannot presuppose a ‘inner’ unity AND a ‘outer’ unity–it doesn’t compute. It creates a straw man: ‘outer unity’ which is ‘typical’ to be knocked over by a ‘unique’ and ‘inner unity’ which is not defined.

For Eliot to say that ‘form’ grows out of ‘the attempt of somebody to say something’ is brilliant, if somewhat vague. If prose is ‘somebody saying something,’ then poetry is ‘the attempt of somebody to say something’ and perhaps here is the discriminating definition at last. Even the purest Imagism is still ‘the attempt of somebody to say something.’ But what of Eliot’s famous ‘dissociation of sensibility?’ The younger Eliot was once certain how crucial ‘the attempt of somebody to say something’ depended on the correspondence of feeling and object, but here Eliot’s ‘form’ arises out of an ‘attempt to say,’ a problematic formula, since ‘attempt’ opens the door to, well, Ashbery-ism, an exquisite and pleasant ‘attempt’ or seeming ‘attempt,’ to say something.

But this is finally too vague, and even crude, as Eliot’s rejection of Milton and the Romantics was, based on what must be seen as the absurd ‘dissociation of sensibility’ theory.

Here is a far more reasonable description (written before Eliot was born) of the difference between the Metaphysicals and the Romantics:

“Almost every devout reader of the old English bards, if demanded his opinion of their productions, would mention vaguely, yet with perfect sincerity, a sense of dreamy, wild, indefinite, and he would perhaps say, undefinable delight. Upon being required to point out the source of this so shadowy pleasure, he would be apt to speak of the quaint in phraseology and of the grotesque in rhythm. And this quaintness and grotesqueness are, as we have elsewhere endeavored to show, very powerful, and if well managed, very admissible adjuncts to Ideality. But in the present instance they arise independently of the author’s will, and are matters altogether apart from his intention. The American Monthly has forcibly painted the general character of the old English Muse. She was a maid, frank, guileless, and perfectly sincere, and although very learned at times, still very learned without art.

No general error evinces a more thorough confusion of ideas than the error of supposing Donne and Cowley metaphysical in the sense wherein Wordsworth and Coleridge are so. With the two former ethics were the end — with the two latter the means. The poet of the Creation wished, by highly artificial verse, to inculcate what he considered moral truth — he of the Ancient Mariner to infuse the Poetic Sentiment through channels suggested by mental analysis. The one finished by complete failure what he commenced in the grossest misconception — the other, by a path which could not possibly lead him astray, arrived at a certainty and intensity of triumph which is not the less brilliant and glorious because concentrated among the very few who have the power to perceive it.

It will now be seen that even the “metaphysical verse” of Cowley is no more than evidence of the straight-forward simplicity and single-heartedness of the man. And he was in all this but a type of his – school — for we may as well designate in this way the entire class of writers whose poems are bound up in the volume before us, and throughout all of whom runs a very perceptible general character. They used but little art in composition. Their writings sprang immediately from the soul — and partook intensely of the nature of that soul. It is not difficult to perceive the tendency of this glorious – abandon. To elevate immeasurably all the energies of mind — but again — so to mingle the greatest possible fire, force, delicacy, and all good things, with the lowest possible bathos, baldness, and utter imbecility, as to render it not a matter of doubt, but of certainty, that the average results of mind in such a – school, will be found inferior to those results in one (ceteris paribus) more artificial. Such, we think, is the view of the older English Poetry, in which a very calm examination will bear us out. The quaintness in manner of which we were just speaking, is an adventitious advantage. It formed no portion of the poet’s intention. Words and their rhythm have varied. Verses which affect us today with a vivid delight, and which delight in some instances, may be traced to this one source of grotesqueness and to none other, must have worn in the days of their construction an air of a very common-place nature. This is no argument, it will be said, against the poems – now. Certainly not — we mean it for the poets – then. The notion of – power, of excessive – power, in the English antique writers should be put in its proper light. This is all we desire to see done.”

The author of the above passage is by none other than that working critic, Edgar Poe.

“No general error evinces a more thorough confusion of ideas than the error of supposing Donne and Cowley metaphysical in the sense wherein Wordsworth and Coleridge are so. With the two former ethics were the end — with the two latter the means.”

Here we see the great “error” of Eliot expressed tersely, concisely, wittily and prfoundly.
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]]> By: thomas brady http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14758 thomas brady Sun, 28 Jun 2009 16:08:56 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14758 Michael, I certainly had heard of 'As One Put Drunk Into The Packet Boat;' it's in my first edition, Vintage Book of Contemporary Poetry, edited by J.D. McClatchy, which I've had for years. Ashbery graduated from Harvard in 1949. That's 60 years. 'Packet Boat' is, according to you, one of his best things. That's quite sad, really. The line, or title, in question, has no existence, really, under our examination so far, except as a signifier of Ashbery's erudition. This was my first point, and this remains the point. It's a pity you can't see that. Thomas Michael,

I certainly had heard of ‘As One Put Drunk Into The Packet Boat;’ it’s in my first edition, Vintage Book of Contemporary Poetry, edited by J.D. McClatchy, which I’ve had for years.

Ashbery graduated from Harvard in 1949. That’s 60 years. ‘Packet Boat’ is, according to you, one of his best things. That’s quite sad, really.

The line, or title, in question, has no existence, really, under our examination so far, except as a signifier of Ashbery’s erudition. This was my first point, and this remains the point. It’s a pity you can’t see that.

Thomas
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]]> By: thomas brady http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14757 thomas brady Sun, 28 Jun 2009 15:51:10 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14757 Annie, A marvel, indeed, that you read the ashes and chewed on the berries of this poem with Harold Bloom, one of Ashbery's most prominent champions, yet you didn't know Ashbery purloined his letter(s) from Marvell. The Finch did not see the Berry for the Bloom? It just goes to show how profitable poetry-stealing is; not only is it difficult to detect, but if 'found out,' the thief merely comes across as clever and erudite. This example, interestingly enough, suppports my quarrel with the New Critics, for Ashbery's 'act' occurs 'outside' the 'sacred (new critical) text' of the poem, and thus is an event banned from our critical lexicon by the myopic New Critic. The New Critic is trained only to 'see' the finished, whole result--where form and content are one-- but we 'see' how this is a false ideal, in fact. In order to be detective/critics, we need to think outside the box (see Poe's 'The Purloined Letter') and this means also thinking outside 'the poem' and not allowing ourselves to be tripped up by male ego new critical erudition. We may even have to be a philosopher a la Plato and embarrass the poet, if it comes to that. Thomas Annie,

A marvel, indeed, that you read the ashes and chewed on the berries of this poem with Harold Bloom, one of Ashbery’s most prominent champions, yet you didn’t know Ashbery purloined his letter(s) from Marvell. The Finch did not see the Berry for the Bloom?

It just goes to show how profitable poetry-stealing is; not only is it difficult to detect, but if ‘found out,’ the thief merely comes across as clever and erudite.

This example, interestingly enough, suppports my quarrel with the New Critics, for Ashbery’s ‘act’ occurs ‘outside’ the ‘sacred (new critical) text’ of the poem, and thus is an event banned from our critical lexicon by the myopic New Critic. The New Critic is trained only to ‘see’ the finished, whole result–where form and content are one– but we ‘see’ how this is a false ideal, in fact.

In order to be detective/critics, we need to think outside the box (see Poe’s ‘The Purloined Letter’) and this means also thinking outside ‘the poem’ and not allowing ourselves to be tripped up by male ego new critical erudition. We may even have to be a philosopher a la Plato and embarrass the poet, if it comes to that.

Thomas
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]]> By: Christopher Woodman http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14737 Christopher Woodman Sun, 28 Jun 2009 06:29:06 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14737 Desmond, My computer isn't working very well and I lost all but the first three letters of the last word in the last big paragraph that came up with your last post. So "Hum....." Hum...." what? It's got to be a proper name because it's capitalized. Surely you don't mean Humphrey Bogart or Humbert Humbert? Do you mean Humpty Dumpty because the pieces can never be put back together again? Yes, eureka! Humboldt, Alexander von Humboldt! Desmond,
My computer isn’t working very well and I lost all but the first three letters of the last word in the last big paragraph that came up with your last post.

So “Hum…..” Hum….” what? It’s got to be a proper name because it’s capitalized. Surely you don’t mean Humphrey Bogart or Humbert Humbert? Do you mean Humpty Dumpty because the pieces can never be put back together again?

Yes, eureka! Humboldt, Alexander von Humboldt!
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]]> By: Desmond Swords http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14735 Desmond Swords Sun, 28 Jun 2009 05:30:24 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14735 Thanks very much Woodie. I enjoy reading your stuff, the wisdom of senty years that bodies forth from an uncompetitive liver of life, your unique perspective of being an American in SE Asia paints some very perspicacious and pertinent pictures with a core philisophical poetic of acceptance, tolerance and desire to understand the other point of view, one of the most human presences here. We only have text to go on, so at some level, though we all know we are essentially the same - human beings; we exist only in the mind of one another as a fiction really, a textual representtion of ourselves, simulacral renderings of the real thing, binary data bits, letters, a masquerade in the imagination, which He who needs not naming, the Mossbawn magus, says, that it is: <em>"...precisely this masquerade of fictions and ironies and fantastic scenarios that can draw us out and bring us close to ourselves. The paradox of the arts is that they are all made up and yet they allow us to get at truths about who and what we are or might be"</em> ~ i wrote a pong in response to Annie's ping on the Taggard thread where we are both pretending to prove our version of the Taggard poem. Hers that it is dactylic and mine that it is free verse with no regular metric. I started on the high horse, but by the time i finished it, had got closer to something that had brought me closer to myself, and my feelings toward the mental fiction of Annie Finch which i hold and is down to her textual representation of herself, which began with an air of competitive superiority on my part, dissolved as i hoked in deeper to waht i was really after trying to get out and i came to understand that - it doesn't really matter who is right or wrong, as what's important is not being the best, the cleverest, the biggest pain in the ass, but Humanity. I will try to post it again tommorow. cheers Thanks very much Woodie.

I enjoy reading your stuff, the wisdom of senty years that bodies forth from an uncompetitive liver of life, your unique perspective of being an American in SE Asia paints some very perspicacious and pertinent pictures with a core philisophical poetic of acceptance, tolerance and desire to understand the other point of view, one of the most human presences here.

We only have text to go on, so at some level, though we all know we are essentially the same – human beings; we exist only in the mind of one another as a fiction really, a textual representtion of ourselves, simulacral renderings of the real thing, binary data bits, letters, a masquerade in the imagination, which He who needs not naming, the Mossbawn magus, says, that it is:

“…precisely this masquerade of fictions and ironies and fantastic scenarios that can draw us out and bring us close to ourselves. The paradox of the arts is that they are all made up and yet they allow us to get at truths about who and what we are or might be”

~

i wrote a pong in response to Annie’s ping on the Taggard thread where we are both pretending to prove our version of the Taggard poem. Hers that it is dactylic and mine that it is free verse with no regular metric.

I started on the high horse, but by the time i finished it, had got closer to something that had brought me closer to myself, and my feelings toward the mental fiction of Annie Finch which i hold and is down to her textual representation of herself, which began with an air of competitive superiority on my part, dissolved as i hoked in deeper to waht i was really after trying to get out and i came to understand that – it doesn’t really matter who is right or wrong, as what’s important is not being the best, the cleverest, the biggest pain in the ass, but Humanity.

I will try to post it again tommorow.

cheers
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]]> By: Christopher Woodman http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14725 Christopher Woodman Sun, 28 Jun 2009 03:23:22 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14725 I get a lot of pleasure from you, Desmond Swords: "Naturally, sounding as intelligent as we do, and armed with the trick of sneering and calling anyone who disagrees with us as minor voices, coupled with a pliant fan-base of people with self-esteen isssues who are keen to shed any their lower-class self and escape into a realm of sophisticated chat where they think hanging round playing a game of what one writes being considered incredibly important by a room full of bores all pretending such is so — hence the confusion, and people taking what the top 1% with a straight face, for a larf as serious and not just fun." Self-esteem issues indeed, and pleasure issues too, i.e. people who take themselves so seriously they are unable to grasp the fun side of ideas anymore, and grow so rigid insight is no longer possible, the intellect so immune to shock and awe. I think the surest sign of a genuine "Elder" of the sort I had in mind a little way up on this thread was a.) a sense of fun and b.) a sense of the ridiculous. I've also heard a lot of pleasant surprise and assent in response to Richard Hugo's insistence that it was a terrible waste to assume that "the further from sentimentality we got, the truer the art." Takes a good gulp to get the mind around a revolutionary idea like that, indeed a rethink of everything we've been taught. And the Coleridge too that we all quote so frequently without bothering to figure out what it actually says: “A poem is that species of composition, which is opposed to works of science, by proposing for its <i>immediate</i> object pleasure, not truth; and from all other species (having <i>this</i> object in common with it) it is discriminated by proposing to itself such delight from the <i>whole</i>, as is compatible with a distinct ratification from each component <i>part</i>.” And Michael, John Ashbery is a whole lot more like that than his poe-faced apologists (love that expression and have been waiting to use it!)! Christopher I get a lot of pleasure from you, Desmond Swords:

“Naturally, sounding as intelligent as we do, and armed with the trick of sneering and calling anyone who disagrees with us as minor voices, coupled with a pliant fan-base of people with self-esteen isssues who are keen to shed any their lower-class self and escape into a realm of sophisticated chat where they think hanging round playing a game of what one writes being considered incredibly important by a room full of bores all pretending such is so — hence the confusion, and people taking what the top 1% with a straight face, for a larf as serious and not just fun.”

Self-esteem issues indeed, and pleasure issues too, i.e. people who take themselves so seriously they are unable to grasp the fun side of ideas anymore, and grow so rigid insight is no longer possible, the intellect so immune to shock and awe.

I think the surest sign of a genuine “Elder” of the sort I had in mind a little way up on this thread was a.) a sense of fun and b.) a sense of the ridiculous.

I’ve also heard a lot of pleasant surprise and assent in response to Richard Hugo’s insistence that it was a terrible waste to assume that “the further from sentimentality we got, the truer the art.” Takes a good gulp to get the mind around a revolutionary idea like that, indeed a rethink of everything we’ve been taught.

And the Coleridge too that we all quote so frequently without bothering to figure out what it actually says:

“A poem is that species of composition, which is opposed to works of science, by proposing for its immediate object pleasure, not truth; and from all other species (having this object in common with it) it is discriminated by proposing to itself such delight from the whole, as is compatible with a distinct ratification from each component part.”

And Michael, John Ashbery is a whole lot more like that than his poe-faced apologists (love that expression and have been waiting to use it!)!

Christopher
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]]> By: michael robbins http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14705 michael robbins Sat, 27 Jun 2009 23:07:36 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14705 The point isn't oneupsmanship. It's an obscure Marvell poem; I doubt many readers catch the reference, & I certainly don't hold it against anyone. But the person in question was inveighing against the line & generally indulging his habit of leaping without cracking a book. In another thread, I had pointed out that the line was from Marvell in response to a rather embarrassing attempt to denigrate the poem by making fun of the title, so I thought it rather perverse that the person would continue to do so here, although for the sake of decorum we should now go along with the rather silly notion that he knew it was Marvell all along. The point isn’t oneupsmanship. It’s an obscure Marvell poem; I doubt many readers catch the reference, & I certainly don’t hold it against anyone. But the person in question was inveighing against the line & generally indulging his habit of leaping without cracking a book. In another thread, I had pointed out that the line was from Marvell in response to a rather embarrassing attempt to denigrate the poem by making fun of the title, so I thought it rather perverse that the person would continue to do so here, although for the sake of decorum we should now go along with the rather silly notion that he knew it was Marvell all along.
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]]> By: michael robbins http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14704 michael robbins Sat, 27 Jun 2009 23:03:46 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14704 Since I regularly teach the complete works of Andrew Marvell, let's assume I've read it, too. And you're quite wrong about Ashbery's deep relationship to Renaissance poetry; it's simply obvious that you know nothing about him or his work. If I were you, I'd have a look at his lectures on Beddoes or Clare, spend some time with the poetry. That way you can at least speak from a position of knowledge. Everything Matt says is absolutely correct, & nothing in your reply to me answers the objection. I notice you carefully avoided engaging me earlier when it was clear that I knew what Ashbery was doing in "As One Put Drunk," whereas you'd never heard of the poem before. I don't mind people arguing against Ashbery, but I rather think they have an obligation to know the first thing about what they're talking about. So far you've got every single facet of his work backward, you've made egregious errors, you've misread, misstated, misidentifed, & generally misunderstood. Are you seriously enjoying this? Since I regularly teach the complete works of Andrew Marvell, let’s assume I’ve read it, too. And you’re quite wrong about Ashbery’s deep relationship to Renaissance poetry; it’s simply obvious that you know nothing about him or his work. If I were you, I’d have a look at his lectures on Beddoes or Clare, spend some time with the poetry. That way you can at least speak from a position of knowledge. Everything Matt says is absolutely correct, & nothing in your reply to me answers the objection. I notice you carefully avoided engaging me earlier when it was clear that I knew what Ashbery was doing in “As One Put Drunk,” whereas you’d never heard of the poem before. I don’t mind people arguing against Ashbery, but I rather think they have an obligation to know the first thing about what they’re talking about. So far you’ve got every single facet of his work backward, you’ve made egregious errors, you’ve misread, misstated, misidentifed, & generally misunderstood. Are you seriously enjoying this?
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]]> By: Annie Finch http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14702 Annie Finch Sat, 27 Jun 2009 22:46:04 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14702 “As one put drunk into the packet-boat” is a line from Marvell. Wow. I had no idea about this and I don't even think Harold Bloom mentioned it when we read it in his class. I have always liked Ashbery's 17th-century-ness. “As one put drunk into the packet-boat” is a line from Marvell.

Wow. I had no idea about this and I don’t even think Harold Bloom mentioned it when we read it in his class.

I have always liked Ashbery’s 17th-century-ness.
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]]> By: John Oliver Simon http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14693 John Oliver Simon Sat, 27 Jun 2009 21:28:31 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14693 Thomas Chatterton and Arthur Rimbaud are to blame. Thomas Chatterton and Arthur Rimbaud are to blame.
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]]> By: thomas brady http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14688 thomas brady Sat, 27 Jun 2009 20:42:36 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14688 Thank you, Desmond. Thus the inanity of the PRE-raphaelite Brotherhood, one of the chief sources of Modernism (see Ford Madox Ford) which plays hop-scotch over entire eras of literature (see Eliot, Pound) for the sake of a erudite con of manifesto-ism. Jettison: the High Renaisance. check. Shakespeare. check. Milton. check. Pope. check. Samuel Johnson. check. Byron. check. Shelley. check. Poe. check. Embrace Ossian. Make up something called 'dissociation of sensibility.' Make obscure Elizabethans and decadent French really important. check. Once this gains acceptance, all bets are off. We then live in Alice's Wonderland, or 'Alice's Waste Land.' Hold on tight. Anyone may say anything. And they do. Dunces are crowned. Thank you, Desmond. Thus the inanity of the PRE-raphaelite Brotherhood, one of the chief sources of Modernism (see Ford Madox Ford) which plays hop-scotch over entire eras of literature (see Eliot, Pound) for the sake of a erudite con of manifesto-ism. Jettison: the High Renaisance. check. Shakespeare. check. Milton. check. Pope. check. Samuel Johnson. check. Byron. check. Shelley. check. Poe. check. Embrace Ossian. Make up something called ‘dissociation of sensibility.’ Make obscure Elizabethans and decadent French really important. check. Once this gains acceptance, all bets are off. We then live in Alice’s Wonderland, or ‘Alice’s Waste Land.’ Hold on tight. Anyone may say anything. And they do. Dunces are crowned.
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]]> By: John Oliver Simon http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14682 John Oliver Simon Sat, 27 Jun 2009 20:15:21 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14682 One horse town. One horse town.
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]]> By: John Oliver Simon http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14679 John Oliver Simon Sat, 27 Jun 2009 20:01:36 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14679 Much as I disrespect Thomas's tilting agsinst century-old windmills of Modernism, and while I agree he did put his paws in the snare fair and proper by attacking the line itself under the impression it was Ashbery's, one-upsmanship as to references feels like sleazy play. I didn't know the line was Marvell's; I'm glad to read his long eloquent and topical heroic couplets which despite an elite education in English Lit way back in the last millennium, had so far avoided me. Footnote, footnote, who's got the footnote? Much as I disrespect Thomas’s tilting agsinst century-old windmills of Modernism, and while I agree he did put his paws in the snare fair and proper by attacking the line itself under the impression it was Ashbery’s, one-upsmanship as to references feels like sleazy play. I didn’t know the line was Marvell’s; I’m glad to read his long eloquent and topical heroic couplets which despite an elite education in English Lit way back in the last millennium, had so far avoided me. Footnote, footnote, who’s got the footnote?
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]]> By: Gary B. Fitzgerald http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14676 Gary B. Fitzgerald Sat, 27 Jun 2009 19:39:00 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14676 One-trick pony. One-trick pony.
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]]> By: Gary B. Fitzgerald http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14675 Gary B. Fitzgerald Sat, 27 Jun 2009 19:25:38 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14675 I am compelled to respond to the comments here because, obviously, my opinions, grounded as they are in such expansive and deep knowledge of all things poetic and worldly will be of great value to all those here. I feel that I would be remiss if I didn’t share my views on this subject and deprive the rest of you poor, sad ignorant fools of my profound understanding and experience. I also think that, back when I was in school, my experiences with blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and furthermore, I remember that the earlier poets were so understanding of the human condition, a condition which I, who now shares with you the exceptional insight and understanding that I have gained of these poets, should be so magnanimous to allow you a peek into my blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, because I, unlike you, have many things to say that will lead you to understand the more subtle and significant points of poetry which, of course, I already do because I have read and compared and analyzed every known living poet, even those unknown, and so I wanted to share my remarkable recognition of the importance of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. And another thing… All work and no play makes Jack a good boy. All work and no play makes Jack a good boy. All work and no play makes Jack a good boy. All work and no play makes Jack a good boy. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, Thank you. I anticipate your adoring and sycophantic response to my overarching and all-encompassing understanding of all things poetic, indeed universal, philosophical, theological, scientific, metaphysical and I know how to raise tomatoes too. So you should genuflect to the extreme because, as you already know, the value of my, unlike yours, most valuable opinions are of extreme importance to me. And another thing, I think that blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Just my opinion, is all. I am compelled to respond to the comments here because, obviously, my opinions, grounded as they are in such expansive and deep knowledge of all things poetic and worldly will be of great value to all those here. I feel that I would be remiss if I didn’t share my views on this subject and deprive the rest of you poor, sad ignorant fools of my profound understanding and experience. I also think that, back when I was in school, my experiences with blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and furthermore, I remember that the earlier poets were so understanding of the human condition, a condition which I, who now shares with you the exceptional insight and understanding that I have gained of these poets, should be so magnanimous to allow you a peek into my blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, because I, unlike you, have many things to say that will lead you to understand the more subtle and significant points of poetry which, of course, I already do because I have read and compared and analyzed every known living poet, even those unknown, and so I wanted to share my remarkable recognition of the importance of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. And another thing…

All work and no play makes Jack a good boy. All work and no play makes Jack a good boy. All work and no play makes Jack a good boy. All work and no play makes Jack a good boy. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, Thank you. I anticipate your adoring and sycophantic response to my overarching and all-encompassing understanding of all things poetic, indeed universal, philosophical, theological, scientific, metaphysical and I know how to raise tomatoes too.

So you should genuflect to the extreme because, as you already know, the value of my, unlike yours, most valuable opinions are of extreme importance to me. And another thing, I think that blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Just my opinion, is all.
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]]> By: Matt http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14671 Matt Sat, 27 Jun 2009 19:00:05 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14671 See, Thomas, the purpose of pointing out that you didn't recognize the Marvell reference wasn't to make some point about Ashbery's "erudition", it was meant as an indication of how little you really know about anything you talk about on this site, and how this gives us a clue as to how seriously anyone should take your longwinded lectures. See, Thomas, the purpose of pointing out that you didn’t recognize the Marvell reference wasn’t to make some point about Ashbery’s “erudition”, it was meant as an indication of how little you really know about anything you talk about on this site, and how this gives us a clue as to how seriously anyone should take your longwinded lectures.
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]]> By: Matt http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14667 Matt Sat, 27 Jun 2009 18:31:11 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14667 Nice job trying to pretend you knew about the Marvell poem all along. Nice job trying to pretend you knew about the Marvell poem all along.
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]]> By: thomas brady http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14666 thomas brady Sat, 27 Jun 2009 18:28:40 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14666 Matt, The same goes for you. See my latest to Robbins. Thanks, Thomas Matt,

The same goes for you. See my latest to Robbins.

Thanks,

Thomas
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]]> By: thomas brady http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14665 thomas brady Sat, 27 Jun 2009 18:27:09 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14665 Robbins, You needn't get over-excited. The line from the Tom May poem was either 'looked-up' by our young Ashbery or got from Ashbery's memory, but 'catch-as-catch-can' erudition is hardly the issue. Anyone can blend elements. The key is to do so harmoniously. You seem to be having trouble with the philosophy. I've got an idea. Read the Complete Works of Andrew Marvell and then get back to me. Thomas Robbins,

You needn’t get over-excited. The line from the Tom May poem was either ‘looked-up’ by our young Ashbery or got from Ashbery’s memory, but ‘catch-as-catch-can’ erudition is hardly the issue. Anyone can blend elements. The key is to do so harmoniously.

You seem to be having trouble with the philosophy. I’ve got an idea. Read the Complete Works of Andrew Marvell and then get back to me.

Thomas
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]]> By: Matt http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14663 Matt Sat, 27 Jun 2009 18:15:07 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14663 Tom May’s Death by Andrew Marvell As one put drunk into the packet-boat Tom May was hurried hence and did not know’t. But was amazed on the Elysian side, And with an eye uncertain, gazing wide, Could not determine in what place he was, (For whence, in Stephen’s Alley, trees or grass?) Nor there The Pope’s Head, nor The Mitre lay, Signs by which still he found and lost his way. At last while doubtfully he all compares, He saw near hand, as he imagined, Ayres. Such did he seem for coruplence and port, But ’twas a man much of another sort; ’Twas Ben that in the dusky laurel shade Amongst the chorus of old poets layed, Sounding of ancient heroes, such as were The subjects’ safety, and the rebels’ fear, And how a double-headed vulture eats Brutus and Cassius, the people’s cheats. But seeing May, he varied straight his song, Gently to signify that he was wrong. ‘Cups more than civil of Emathian wine, I sing’ (said he) ‘and the Pharsalian Sign, Where the historian of the commonsealth In his own bowels sheathed the conquering health.’ By this, May to himself and them was come, He found he was translated, and by whom, Yet then with foot as strumbling as his tongue Pressed for his place among the learned throng. But Ben, who knew not neither foe nor friend, Sworn enemy to all that do pretend, Rose; more than ever he was seen severe, Shook his gray locks, and his own bays did tear At this intrusion. Then with laurel wand— The awful sign of his supreme command, At whose dread whisk Virgil himself does quake, And Horace patiently its stroke does take— As he crowds in, he whipped him o’er the pate Like Pembroke at the masque, and then did rate: ‘Far from these blessed shades tread back again Most servile wit, and mercenary pen, Polydore, Lucan, Alan, Vandal, Goth Malignant poet and historian both, Go seek the novice statesmen, and obtrude On them some Roman-cast similitude, Tell them of liberty, the stories fine, Until you all grow consuls in your wine; Or thou, Dictator of the glass, bestow On him the Cato, this the Cicero, Transferring old Rome hither in your talk, As Bethlem’s House did to Loreto walk. Foul architect, that hadst not eye to see How ill the measures of these states agree, And who by Rome’s example England lay, Those but to Lucan to continue May. But thee nor ignorance nor seeming good Misled, bu malice fixed and understood. Because some one than thee more worthy wears The sacred laurel, hence are all these tears? Must therefore all the world be set on flame, Because a gázette-writer missed his aim? And for a tankard-bearing muse must we As for the basket, Guelphs and Ghib’llines be? When the sword glitters o’er the judge’s head, And fear has coward churchmen silencèd, Then is the poet’s time, ’tis then he draws, And single fights forsaken virtue’s cause. He, when the wheel of empire whirleth back, And though the world’s disjointed axle crack, Sings still of ancient rights and better times, Seeks wretched good, and arraigns successful crimes. But thou, base man, first prostituted hast Our spotless knowledge and the studies chaste, Apostatizing from our arts and us, To turn the chronicler to Spartacus. Yet wast thou taken hence with equal fate, Before thou couldst great Charles his death relate. But what will deeper wound thy little mind, Hast left surviving D’Avenant still behind, Who laughs to see in this thy death renewed, Right Roman poverty and gratitude. Poor poet thou, and grateful senate they, Who thy last reckoning did so largely pay, And with the public gravity would come, When thou hadst drunk thy last to lead thee home, If that can be thy home where Spenser lies, And reverend Chaucer, but their dust does rise Against thee, and expels thee from their side, As th’ eagle’s plumes from other birds divide. Nor here thy shade must dwell. Return, return, Where sulphury Phlegethon does ever burn. Thee Cerberus with all his jaws shall gnash, Megaera thee with all her serpents lash. Thou riveted into Ixion’s wheel Shalt break, and the perpetual vulture feel. ’Tis just, what torments poets e’er did feign, Thou first historically shouldst sustain.’ Thus, by irrevocable sentence cast, May, only Master of these Revels, passed. And straight he vanished in the cloud of pitch, Such as unto the Sabbath bears the witch. ~~~~~~~~ THERE. Tom May’s Death
by Andrew Marvell

As one put drunk into the packet-boat
Tom May was hurried hence and did not know’t.
But was amazed on the Elysian side,
And with an eye uncertain, gazing wide,
Could not determine in what place he was,
(For whence, in Stephen’s Alley, trees or grass?)
Nor there The Pope’s Head, nor The Mitre lay,
Signs by which still he found and lost his way.
At last while doubtfully he all compares,
He saw near hand, as he imagined, Ayres.
Such did he seem for coruplence and port,
But ’twas a man much of another sort;
’Twas Ben that in the dusky laurel shade
Amongst the chorus of old poets layed,
Sounding of ancient heroes, such as were
The subjects’ safety, and the rebels’ fear,
And how a double-headed vulture eats
Brutus and Cassius, the people’s cheats.
But seeing May, he varied straight his song,
Gently to signify that he was wrong.
‘Cups more than civil of Emathian wine,
I sing’ (said he) ‘and the Pharsalian Sign,
Where the historian of the commonsealth
In his own bowels sheathed the conquering health.’
By this, May to himself and them was come,
He found he was translated, and by whom,
Yet then with foot as strumbling as his tongue
Pressed for his place among the learned throng.
But Ben, who knew not neither foe nor friend,
Sworn enemy to all that do pretend,
Rose; more than ever he was seen severe,
Shook his gray locks, and his own bays did tear
At this intrusion. Then with laurel wand—
The awful sign of his supreme command,
At whose dread whisk Virgil himself does quake,
And Horace patiently its stroke does take—
As he crowds in, he whipped him o’er the pate
Like Pembroke at the masque, and then did rate:

‘Far from these blessed shades tread back again
Most servile wit, and mercenary pen,
Polydore, Lucan, Alan, Vandal, Goth
Malignant poet and historian both,
Go seek the novice statesmen, and obtrude
On them some Roman-cast similitude,
Tell them of liberty, the stories fine,
Until you all grow consuls in your wine;
Or thou, Dictator of the glass, bestow
On him the Cato, this the Cicero,
Transferring old Rome hither in your talk,
As Bethlem’s House did to Loreto walk.
Foul architect, that hadst not eye to see
How ill the measures of these states agree,
And who by Rome’s example England lay,
Those but to Lucan to continue May.
But thee nor ignorance nor seeming good
Misled, bu malice fixed and understood.
Because some one than thee more worthy wears
The sacred laurel, hence are all these tears?
Must therefore all the world be set on flame,
Because a gázette-writer missed his aim?
And for a tankard-bearing muse must we
As for the basket, Guelphs and Ghib’llines be?
When the sword glitters o’er the judge’s head,
And fear has coward churchmen silencèd,
Then is the poet’s time, ’tis then he draws,
And single fights forsaken virtue’s cause.
He, when the wheel of empire whirleth back,
And though the world’s disjointed axle crack,
Sings still of ancient rights and better times,
Seeks wretched good, and arraigns successful crimes.
But thou, base man, first prostituted hast
Our spotless knowledge and the studies chaste,
Apostatizing from our arts and us,
To turn the chronicler to Spartacus.
Yet wast thou taken hence with equal fate,
Before thou couldst great Charles his death relate.
But what will deeper wound thy little mind,
Hast left surviving D’Avenant still behind,
Who laughs to see in this thy death renewed,
Right Roman poverty and gratitude.
Poor poet thou, and grateful senate they,
Who thy last reckoning did so largely pay,
And with the public gravity would come,
When thou hadst drunk thy last to lead thee home,
If that can be thy home where Spenser lies,
And reverend Chaucer, but their dust does rise
Against thee, and expels thee from their side,
As th’ eagle’s plumes from other birds divide.
Nor here thy shade must dwell. Return, return,
Where sulphury Phlegethon does ever burn.
Thee Cerberus with all his jaws shall gnash,
Megaera thee with all her serpents lash.
Thou riveted into Ixion’s wheel
Shalt break, and the perpetual vulture feel.
’Tis just, what torments poets e’er did feign,
Thou first historically shouldst sustain.’

Thus, by irrevocable sentence cast,
May, only Master of these Revels, passed.
And straight he vanished in the cloud of pitch,
Such as unto the Sabbath bears the witch.

~~~~~~~~

THERE.
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]]> By: Gary B. Fitzgerald http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14653 Gary B. Fitzgerald Sat, 27 Jun 2009 16:30:20 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14653 I am compelled to respond to the comments here because, obviously, my opinions, grounded as they are in such expansive and deep knowledge of all things poetic and worldly will be of great value to all those here. I feel that I would be remiss if I didn’t share my views on this subject and deprive the rest of you poor, sad ignorant fools of my profound understanding and experience. I also think that, back when I was in school, my experiences with blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and furthermore, I remember that the earlier poets were so understanding of the human condition, a condition which I, who now shares with you the exceptional insight and understanding that I have gained of these poets, should be so magnanimous to allow you a peek into my blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, because I, unlike you, have many things to say that will lead you to understand the more subtle and significant points of poetry which, of course, I already do because I have read and compared and analyzed every known living poet, even those unknown, and so I wanted to share my remarkable recognition of the importance of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, Thank you. I anticipate your adoring and sycophantic response to my overarching and all-encompassing understanding of all things poetic, indeed universal, philosophical, theological, metaphysical and I know how to raise tomatoes also, so you should show obeisance to the extreme ,because as you already know the value of my, unlike yours, most valuable opinions. And another thing, I think that blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Just my opinion. I am compelled to respond to the comments here because, obviously, my opinions, grounded as they are in such expansive and deep knowledge of all things poetic and worldly will be of great value to all those here. I feel that I would be remiss if I didn’t share my views on this subject and deprive the rest of you poor, sad ignorant fools of my profound understanding and experience. I also think that, back when I was in school, my experiences with blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and furthermore, I remember that the earlier poets were so understanding of the human condition, a condition which I, who now shares with you the exceptional insight and understanding that I have gained of these poets, should be so magnanimous to allow you a peek into my blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, because I, unlike you, have many things to say that will lead you to understand the more subtle and significant points of poetry which, of course, I already do because I have read and compared and analyzed every known living poet, even those unknown, and so I wanted to share my remarkable recognition of the importance of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, Thank you. I anticipate your adoring and sycophantic response to my overarching and all-encompassing understanding of all things poetic, indeed universal, philosophical, theological, metaphysical and I know how to raise tomatoes also, so you should show obeisance to the extreme ,because as you already know the value of my, unlike yours, most valuable opinions. And another thing, I think that blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah and in addition to that I also think that there should be more academic winnowing and conformity to the will of blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Just my opinion.
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]]> By: michael robbins http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14652 michael robbins Sat, 27 Jun 2009 16:24:54 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14652 So you didn't read the responses to yr earlier post, where you would have learned that "As one put drunk into the packet-boat" is a line from Marvell. Also, as should be evident from the several responses to yr feeble attacks on Ashbery, no one but no one ever responds thus: “Sense? What’s that? You cannot separate out sense from poetry. Poetry cannot be separated into elements; it has an aesthetic purity which cannot be paraphrased!” "Aesthetic purity"? Who he? So you didn’t read the responses to yr earlier post, where you would have learned that “As one put drunk into the packet-boat” is a line from Marvell.

Also, as should be evident from the several responses to yr feeble attacks on Ashbery, no one but no one ever responds thus: “Sense? What’s that? You cannot separate out sense from poetry. Poetry cannot be separated into elements; it has an aesthetic purity which cannot be paraphrased!”

“Aesthetic purity”? Who he?
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]]> By: Desmond Swords http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14637 Desmond Swords Sat, 27 Jun 2009 15:01:15 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14637 Unity of form is an inward attempt at the liberation of outward, organic identity found in the sculptures of artists such as Bernini in the Piazza Navona, Palazzi Pontificior and most overtly, the guilt bronze Altar Cross in the Treasury of San Pietro. The rendering of physical form using the abstractions of the illustrations in De Divina Proportione, which Leonardo used after appropriating his own Pythagorean Golden Ratio, set in place a datum which connects the metaphorical Renaissance decadence of 17C Italian poetry, expemplified in the Gongorism school headed by Luis de Góngora, who was coterminous with Leonardo - and the ancient Homeric stir of the origonal Homeric poetic, which me and my major friends who are not talking gobble dee gook, would wish to stamp upin the current age with a bit of bluff and blather, using fancy pant sounding foeregn names no one has heard of, a bit of bullshit baffles brains statements such as: The inner design of the poem, bodies forth first from the collision between one's unconscious realm in which the outward world mirrors the inner desire to put into form soime abstract longing - and a conscious facility abroad in the genral cosmos. Naturally, sounding as intelligent as we do, and armed with the trick of sneering and calling anyone who disagrees with us as minor voices, coupled with a pliant fan-base of people with self-esteen isssues who are keen to shed any their lower-class self and escape into a realm of sophisticated chat where they think hanging round playing a game of what one writes being considered incredibly important by a room full of bores all pretending such is so -- hence the confusion, and people taking what the top 1% with a straight face, for a larf as serious and not just fun. Unity of form is an inward attempt at the liberation of outward, organic identity found in the sculptures of artists such as Bernini in the Piazza Navona, Palazzi Pontificior and most overtly, the guilt bronze Altar Cross in the Treasury of San Pietro.

The rendering of physical form using the abstractions of the illustrations in De Divina Proportione, which Leonardo used after appropriating his own Pythagorean Golden Ratio, set in place a datum which connects the metaphorical Renaissance decadence of 17C Italian poetry, expemplified in the Gongorism school headed by Luis de Góngora, who was coterminous with Leonardo – and the ancient Homeric stir of the origonal Homeric poetic, which me and my major friends who are not talking gobble dee gook, would wish to stamp upin the current age with a bit of bluff and blather, using fancy pant sounding foeregn names no one has heard of, a bit of bullshit baffles brains statements such as:

The inner design of the poem, bodies forth first from the collision between one’s unconscious realm in which the outward world mirrors the inner desire to put into form soime abstract longing – and a conscious facility abroad in the genral cosmos.

Naturally, sounding as intelligent as we do, and armed with the trick of sneering and calling anyone who disagrees with us as minor voices, coupled with a pliant fan-base of people with self-esteen isssues who are keen to shed any their lower-class self and escape into a realm of sophisticated chat where they think hanging round playing a game of what one writes being considered incredibly important by a room full of bores all pretending such is so — hence the confusion, and people taking what the top 1% with a straight face, for a larf as serious and not just fun.
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]]> By: thomas brady http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14632 thomas brady Sat, 27 Jun 2009 14:22:35 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14632 Annie, This is why my analogy DOES hold, because form & content ARE seperable in poetry just as they are in song: w/ lyrics and music seen as different yet related things. The New Critics' decree AGAINST paraphrasing is an insidious decree, and it fits right in to your feeling that we cannot separate form and content in poetry. This error leads to Ashbery-ism. A healthy response to Ashbery-sim is "But this doesn't make any sense!" The Ashbery-ist replys, "Sense? What's that? You cannot separate out sense from poetry. Poetry cannot be separated into elements; it has an aesthetic purity which cannot be paraphrased!" This effectively walls off commonsense sorts of responses. "as one put drunk into the packet boat" in this scenario becomes poetry immune to criticism, since the phrase just came to Ashbery in one inspired gestalt and to ask for any sort of paraphrase of the poem 'As One Put Drunk Into The Packet Boat' is to violate the Great New Critical Rule. We fall into the rabbit hole of insidious aesthetic one-ness. There is no such thing as 'one experience.' Unity of Impression, so rightly prized by Poe, depends upon elements which exist separately and combine harmoniously--we are aware of the combining into the one. Ashbery-ism prohibits this; it is the One, but without the unity of impression. Annie,

This is why my analogy DOES hold, because form & content ARE seperable in poetry just as they are in song: w/ lyrics and music seen as different yet related things.

The New Critics’ decree AGAINST paraphrasing is an insidious decree, and it fits right in to your feeling that we cannot separate form and content in poetry.

This error leads to Ashbery-ism. A healthy response to Ashbery-sim is “But this doesn’t make any sense!” The Ashbery-ist replys, “Sense? What’s that? You cannot separate out sense from poetry. Poetry cannot be separated into elements; it has an aesthetic purity which cannot be paraphrased!”

This effectively walls off commonsense sorts of responses.

“as one put drunk into the packet boat” in this scenario becomes poetry immune to criticism, since the phrase just came to Ashbery in one inspired gestalt and to ask for any sort of paraphrase of the poem ‘As One Put Drunk Into The Packet Boat’ is to violate the Great New Critical Rule.

We fall into the rabbit hole of insidious aesthetic one-ness.

There is no such thing as ‘one experience.’

Unity of Impression, so rightly prized by Poe, depends upon elements which exist separately and combine harmoniously–we are aware of the combining into the one.

Ashbery-ism prohibits this; it is the One, but without the unity of impression.
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]]> By: thomas brady http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14630 thomas brady Sat, 27 Jun 2009 14:09:17 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14630 Back to aesthetics, where it's always more interesting to be: Here is T.S. Eliot in a 1942 lecture, "The Music of Poetry:" "No one has better cause to know than I, that a great deal of bad prose has been written under the name of free verse; though whether its authors wrote bad prose or bad verse, or bad verse in one style or in another, seems to me a matter of indifference. But only a bad poet could welcome free verse as a liberation from form. It was a revolt against dead form, and a preparation for new form or the renewal of the old; it was insistence upon the inner unity which is unique to every poem, against the outer unity which is typical. The poem comes from the form, in the sense that a form grows out of the attempt of somebody to say something; just as a system of prosody is only a formulation of the identities in the rhythms of a succession of poets influenced by each other." This is of stunning importance. We all know, those of us on the Emerson ride, the ride of Revolt, that Emerson said NOTHING specific about poetic form; Emerson simply attacked a shadow-Poe (without naming him) in "The Poet," in the most general, vatic sort of terms (which Mr. E. was famous for). On the other hand, Poe, as journalist, reviewer, and essay writer (especially "Rationale of Verse") made specific, detailed observations of form. In this remarkable passage, Eliot returns to his roots (of Revolt) sounding like the heir of Emerson (that connection covered up for so long). Eliot intones: "It was a revolt against dead form, and a preparation for new form or the renewal of the old..." This is Emerson-speak, this is Modernist-Revolt speak. Poe would NEVER say something like this. This is vague manifesto-ism: "a revolt against dead form." A poet succeeds or fails *uniquely* in every poem using *whatever form he requires.* No 'form' is 'dead.' Only a madman in the 'school of revolt' would refer to 'form' that is 'dead.' This nonsense re: "a revolt against dead form" is pure nutty manifesto-ism. It's like saying "Down with iambic pentameter!" which would be seen for the insanity it is immediately; so instead the rebel insidiously says, 'the revolt against dead form.' If you ask the modernist directly to point to 'dead form' they would give you a blank look. All that bad prose written in the name of free verse that Eliot refers to--is that 'dead form?' Not according to the modernist. Milton and Shelley and Poe are 'dead form,' according to the modernism of revolt, according to Emerson and his heirs. But 'form' that is 'form' is not 'dead.' It is 'form' and one can innovate on it--or not. No 'revolt' is necessary. The great poet who knows his 'form' will write good poems, the bad poet who doesn't know his 'form' will write bad poems, and honest amateur critics will keep us clean about it all. This talk of 'revolt' should be seen for the trick that it is. "Revolt" is only necessary to the wooly-headed modernist. Poe & Shelley both were innovators and said poets need to innovate, every generation should see innovation in form, of course! but 'revolt against dead form' is just brick-throwing, and Eliot usually avoids this kind of rhetoric, but here his disguise, his connection to his cousin, Emerson, slips. Eliot then lapses into opium-addicted organic-talk, more nutty Emerson-ism: "it was insistence upon the inner unity which is unique to every poem, against the outer unity which is typical. The poem comes from the form, in the sense that a form grows out of the attempt of somebody to say something..." This, in fact, is pure Ashbery-ism! "a form grows out of the attempt of somebody to say something..." So the philosophical chain as I have analyzed it, is complete: Emerson to Eliot to Ashbery. The ignorant, nitrous oxide line of modern Letters, that now dominates poetry, and has pushed aside the Shakespeare-Keats-Shelley-Poe-Millay line. Back to aesthetics, where it’s always more interesting to be:

Here is T.S. Eliot in a 1942 lecture, “The Music of Poetry:”

“No one has better cause to know than I, that a great deal of bad prose has been written under the name of free verse; though whether its authors wrote bad prose or bad verse, or bad verse in one style or in another, seems to me a matter of indifference. But only a bad poet could welcome free verse as a liberation from form. It was a revolt against dead form, and a preparation for new form or the renewal of the old; it was insistence upon the inner unity which is unique to every poem, against the outer unity which is typical. The poem comes from the form, in the sense that a form grows out of the attempt of somebody to say something; just as a system of prosody is only a formulation of the identities in the rhythms of a succession of poets influenced by each other.”

This is of stunning importance.

We all know, those of us on the Emerson ride, the ride of Revolt, that Emerson said NOTHING specific about poetic form; Emerson simply attacked a shadow-Poe (without naming him) in “The Poet,” in the most general, vatic sort of terms (which Mr. E. was famous for). On the other hand, Poe, as journalist, reviewer, and essay writer (especially “Rationale of Verse”) made specific, detailed observations of form.

In this remarkable passage, Eliot returns to his roots (of Revolt) sounding like the heir of Emerson (that connection covered up for so long).

Eliot intones: “It was a revolt against dead form, and a preparation for new form or the renewal of the old…”

This is Emerson-speak, this is Modernist-Revolt speak. Poe would NEVER say something like this. This is vague manifesto-ism: “a revolt against dead form.”

A poet succeeds or fails *uniquely* in every poem using *whatever form he requires.* No ‘form’ is ‘dead.’ Only a madman in the ‘school of revolt’ would refer to ‘form’ that is ‘dead.’ This nonsense re: “a revolt against dead form” is pure nutty manifesto-ism. It’s like saying “Down with iambic pentameter!” which would be seen for the insanity it is immediately; so instead the rebel insidiously says, ‘the revolt against dead form.’ If you ask the modernist directly to point to ‘dead form’ they would give you a blank look. All that bad prose written in the name of free verse that Eliot refers to–is that ‘dead form?’ Not according to the modernist. Milton and Shelley and Poe are ‘dead form,’ according to the modernism of revolt, according to Emerson and his heirs. But ‘form’ that is ‘form’ is not ‘dead.’ It is ‘form’ and one can innovate on it–or not. No ‘revolt’ is necessary. The great poet who knows his ‘form’ will write good poems, the bad poet who doesn’t know his ‘form’ will write bad poems, and honest amateur critics will keep us clean about it all. This talk of ‘revolt’ should be seen for the trick that it is. “Revolt” is only necessary to the wooly-headed modernist. Poe & Shelley both were innovators and said poets need to innovate, every generation should see innovation in form, of course! but ‘revolt against dead form’ is just brick-throwing, and Eliot usually avoids this kind of rhetoric, but here his disguise, his connection to his cousin, Emerson, slips.

Eliot then lapses into opium-addicted organic-talk, more nutty Emerson-ism:

“it was insistence upon the inner unity which is unique to every poem, against the outer unity which is typical. The poem comes from the form, in the sense that a form grows out of the attempt of somebody to say something…”

This, in fact, is pure Ashbery-ism! “a form grows out of the attempt of somebody to say something…”

So the philosophical chain as I have analyzed it, is complete: Emerson to Eliot to Ashbery. The ignorant, nitrous oxide line of modern Letters, that now dominates poetry, and has pushed aside the Shakespeare-Keats-Shelley-Poe-Millay line.
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]]> By: thomas brady http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14625 thomas brady Sat, 27 Jun 2009 13:23:53 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14625 Poe thrived in the north, and had a universalist, artistic appeal as he tried to elevate American Letters as a journalist, and he was NOT the 'red-neck, pro-slavery southerner' as he is sometimes depicted, but, ironically, that bizarre reality can in fact be found in The Fugitive/Modernist/New Critics' Southern Agrarian movement, expressed in the 1930 collectively written manifesto, 'I'll Take My Stand.' We should get the record straight once and for all: John Crowe Ransom, Allen Tate, and Robert Penn Warren held 'red neck' views, not Poe. In addition, we also need to acknowledge that Emerson, Whitman, and Thomas Caryle, who influenced both Emerson and Whitman, were far more reactionary in these matters than Poe. I don't like to wander off the aesthetic path, but literature IS history, as well, and I just wanted to clarify this as part of the general sweep of my argument. We can pick over details, of course, and it's not necessary to take every writer to court on every last thing they may have said, but I think the outline of the matter needs to be known. Poe thrived in the north, and had a universalist, artistic appeal as he tried to elevate American Letters as a journalist, and he was NOT the ‘red-neck, pro-slavery southerner’ as he is sometimes depicted, but, ironically, that bizarre reality can in fact be found in The Fugitive/Modernist/New Critics’ Southern Agrarian movement, expressed in the 1930 collectively written manifesto, ‘I’ll Take My Stand.’ We should get the record straight once and for all: John Crowe Ransom, Allen Tate, and Robert Penn Warren held ‘red neck’ views, not Poe.

In addition, we also need to acknowledge that Emerson, Whitman, and Thomas Caryle, who influenced both Emerson and Whitman, were far more reactionary in these matters than Poe.

I don’t like to wander off the aesthetic path, but literature IS history, as well, and I just wanted to clarify this as part of the general sweep of my argument. We can pick over details, of course, and it’s not necessary to take every writer to court on every last thing they may have said, but I think the outline of the matter needs to be known.
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]]> By: thomas brady http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14622 thomas brady Sat, 27 Jun 2009 12:47:16 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14622 Yes, Don hit a homerun with that Hugo quote. Good one, Donnie. That was a donnybrook. Hugo! Merci! Edgar Poe and Edna Millay thank you. (Poe & Millay were not sentimental, so much, as passionate, but we understand Hugo's point...) Hugo's quote is marvelous because in a few words he has expressed what happens when you embrace the manifesto-ism of Revolt. You go to far. 'Kill the Victorians! They were all sentimental! And the sentimental is bad! And come to think of it, the Romantics often sound like the Victorians, so kill them, too!' You reject. You fall into resentment and pessimism. You paint yourself into a corner. Your ignorance takes on a life of its own. This is, indeed, what happened to American Letters. It began with Emerson's 'The Poet,' one of Mr. E.'s Carlyle-inspired little sermons meant to unsettle the elders of the harvard divinity school. We got in Emerson's car and we drove. We began to drink the gin, Revolt, and we began to drive fast. We killed Edgar Poe in a hit-and-run. Tribune owner Greeley: "I'll take care of this! Keep driving!" And we kept driving. When we stopped momentarily, after we killed Poe, Whitman, 'heeey, comrade!' jumped aboard. We drove across the Atlantic ocean. The English, fresh off their secret support of the Confederate States of America, were waiting for us. "Mr. Emerson and Mr. Whitman! Welcome! How good to see you! We hear you are not so beloved in America! No one reads Whitman's book! They resent you! But WE love you." "We...like America. All that...cotton. Feel that it's....ours, in fact. Poe? Never liked him. Uppity American, who does he think he is? Those idiotic French fancy Mr. Poe. Don't worry, we'll fix that. We'll fix everything. We'll make a transatlantic movement of decadence which shall embrace ALL the elements of Revolt, French (some of them are good at decadence, you know) American,(they're learning, they're learning...) our English, (luv, we're the BEST) Russian, Italian, it doesn't matter from where. We'll pick on the Germans, the Huns will be our common enemy for the time being, the Prussians make great fodder. Our transatlantic art movement will be experimental, forward-looking, a treasure of eclectic Revolt! Oh, the social freedoms! (wink, wink). To be an artist, it will no longer be necessary to be good! Just experimental!" And here they give us a long kiss. "We shall despise the middle classes and we shall kill as many Germans as we can, in World War I, the Great War, as we call it!" "Here is Lady Ottoline Morrell, cousin to the Queen Mother! (whisper) You MUST get to know her!" "I want to introduce you to Mr. Huefner of the British Propaganda War Office...known as Ford Madox Ford...he's in charge of stirrng up hatred against Germans and support for the British...he couldn't keep his German name for reasons which I'm sure you understand...his grandfather was a pre-Raphaelite painter...grew up among them...Whitman's dying reputation was kept alive by the pre-Raphaelites...and Ruskin helped us to realize that one can love the gothic and hate the renaissance, one can be a fanatic in this way, reject what is good (Raphael) and embrace what is older...and here is a man, Tom, whose grandfather knew Emerson, fresh out of Harvard, who is developing similar ideas to Ruskin, our revered countryman, rejecting the great Romantics and Victorians for a few decadent French poets and the metaphysicals, odd, I know, but just the sort of thing we need for our 'Movement of Revolt,' and speaking of odd, here is Mr. Ezra Pound, who found Ford Madox Ford right off the boat..." We are still driving that car. Very fast. Yes, Don hit a homerun with that Hugo quote. Good one, Donnie. That was a donnybrook.

Hugo! Merci! Edgar Poe and Edna Millay thank you. (Poe & Millay were not sentimental, so much, as passionate, but we understand Hugo’s point…)

Hugo’s quote is marvelous because in a few words he has expressed what happens when you embrace the manifesto-ism of Revolt.

You go to far.

‘Kill the Victorians! They were all sentimental! And the sentimental is bad! And come to think of it, the Romantics often sound like the Victorians, so kill them, too!’

You reject. You fall into resentment and pessimism. You paint yourself into a corner. Your ignorance takes on a life of its own.

This is, indeed, what happened to American Letters.

It began with Emerson’s ‘The Poet,’ one of Mr. E.’s Carlyle-inspired little sermons meant to unsettle the elders of the harvard divinity school.

We got in Emerson’s car and we drove.

We began to drink the gin, Revolt, and we began to drive fast.

We killed Edgar Poe in a hit-and-run. Tribune owner Greeley: “I’ll take care of this! Keep driving!” And we kept driving.

When we stopped momentarily, after we killed Poe, Whitman, ‘heeey, comrade!’ jumped aboard.

We drove across the Atlantic ocean.

The English, fresh off their secret support of the Confederate States of America, were waiting for us.

“Mr. Emerson and Mr. Whitman! Welcome! How good to see you! We hear you are not so beloved in America! No one reads Whitman’s book! They resent you! But WE love you.”

“We…like America. All that…cotton. Feel that it’s….ours, in fact. Poe? Never liked him. Uppity American, who does he think he is? Those idiotic French fancy Mr. Poe. Don’t worry, we’ll fix that. We’ll fix everything. We’ll make a transatlantic movement of decadence which shall embrace ALL the elements of Revolt, French (some of them are good at decadence, you know) American,(they’re learning, they’re learning…) our English, (luv, we’re the BEST) Russian, Italian, it doesn’t matter from where. We’ll pick on the Germans, the Huns will be our common enemy for the time being, the Prussians make great fodder. Our transatlantic art movement will be experimental, forward-looking, a treasure of eclectic Revolt! Oh, the social freedoms! (wink, wink). To be an artist, it will no longer be necessary to be good! Just experimental!” And here they give us a long kiss. “We shall despise the middle classes and we shall kill as many Germans as we can, in World War I, the Great War, as we call it!”

“Here is Lady Ottoline Morrell, cousin to the Queen Mother! (whisper) You MUST get to know her!”

“I want to introduce you to Mr. Huefner of the British Propaganda War Office…known as Ford Madox Ford…he’s in charge of stirrng up hatred against Germans and support for the British…he couldn’t keep his German name for reasons which I’m sure you understand…his grandfather was a pre-Raphaelite painter…grew up among them…Whitman’s dying reputation was kept alive by the pre-Raphaelites…and Ruskin helped us to realize that one can love the gothic and hate the renaissance, one can be a fanatic in this way, reject what is good (Raphael) and embrace what is older…and here is a man, Tom, whose grandfather knew Emerson, fresh out of Harvard, who is developing similar ideas to Ruskin, our revered countryman, rejecting the great Romantics and Victorians for a few decadent French poets and the metaphysicals, odd, I know, but just the sort of thing we need for our ‘Movement of Revolt,’ and speaking of odd, here is Mr. Ezra Pound, who found Ford Madox Ford right off the boat…”

We are still driving that car.

Very fast.
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]]> By: Christopher Woodman http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14585 Christopher Woodman Sat, 27 Jun 2009 05:59:46 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14585 I have a feeling that the silence following my last posts has to do with my ignorance. I didn't realize Colin Ward was Kaltica until I was just tipped off by e-mail. On the other hand, I did get the same sort of feeling from Colin Ward's "Poetry is verbatim" put-down as I used to get from Kaltica on Poets.org--which is perhaps why I felt inclined not to take it lying down. I think I was also reacting to Colin's notion of the "Elders," which felt a bit dictatorial to me. Because I don't share that view of the Elder at all, perhaps because I'm 70. I agree entirely with Colin that the Elders had to ensure that the oral traditions of the people remained "verbatim," but I think genuine "Elders," and I mean in any epoch or society, also have the obligation to listen wisely. For that's what you have to do if you're going to take the equally important responsibility to be a guardian of the inner life as well. Which I think has been left out of the American big-bang poetry hoe-down entirely. My informant assures me that everybody knows Colin Ward is Kaltica, that it's right up front on Poets.org so I don't have to be sensitive about protecting his identity. Perhaps we now need to wait for another thread to go on with this. Whatever, I'd truly love to be a part of the discussion on the matters arising. Christopher I have a feeling that the silence following my last posts has to do with my ignorance. I didn’t realize Colin Ward was Kaltica until I was just tipped off by e-mail. On the other hand, I did get the same sort of feeling from Colin Ward’s “Poetry is verbatim” put-down as I used to get from Kaltica on Poets.org–which is perhaps why I felt inclined not to take it lying down.

I think I was also reacting to Colin’s notion of the “Elders,” which felt a bit dictatorial to me. Because I don’t share that view of the Elder at all, perhaps because I’m 70. I agree entirely with Colin that the Elders had to ensure that the oral traditions of the people remained “verbatim,” but I think genuine “Elders,” and I mean in any epoch or society, also have the obligation to listen wisely. For that’s what you have to do if you’re going to take the equally important responsibility to be a guardian of the inner life as well.

Which I think has been left out of the American big-bang poetry hoe-down entirely.

My informant assures me that everybody knows Colin Ward is Kaltica, that it’s right up front on Poets.org so I don’t have to be sensitive about protecting his identity.

Perhaps we now need to wait for another thread to go on with this. Whatever, I’d truly love to be a part of the discussion on the matters arising.

Christopher
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]]> By: Christopher Woodman http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/06/chillin-with-the-villies/#comment-14430 Christopher Woodman Fri, 26 Jun 2009 05:01:03 +0000 http://www.poetryfoundation.org/harriet/?p=3429#comment-14430 I know you're already mostly in bed by now, but I'm afraid I'm not quite finished. Forgive me for not waiting for your sun to rise. Where all this got started, this leg of the chillin the villies thread, was with Colin Ward's statement, <b>"Poetry is verbatim."</b> If you follow that back just a bit you'll see where shortly before Colin Ward had stopped the romantic tendencies of the discussion by insisting to Annie Finch, I think, that pre-literate poetry was word for word as it was always overseen by the <b>elders.</b> "Oh, yes," he wrote, "it would 99+% of the time, in fact. Elders would see to that! . . . It was the pedagogue’s job to see that it didn’t do so [change] from one speaker to the next. Rulers might not have been invented to draw straight lines!" I agree with Colin Ward on this--indeed, I was trying to say just that when he got me with his magnum verbatim! But I see a big problem in the craft aspect of the training as it's practiced today in America, and particularly on a gigantic website like Poets.org where the Elders are invisible and inviolate--a little like they are in Iran. And I don't think teachers should be like that in poetry, ever, simply because in the training of poets <b>the intellectual, emotional and moral development is far more important to the quality of the poetry that ensues than the mechanics!</b> Would you agree the Elders would have seen to that too, Colin Ward? What I'm getting at is that I think we've arrived at a perilous moment in American poetry, because for the first time in the history of the world, poetry is a business, and most of the Elders get paid. They also give out the prizes, get the books published, write the blurbs, write the reviews, and make the appointments. So craft has a lot more riding on it than mere skill development! There--I've got that one off my chest. (And thank God, I say, for Ruth Lilly's genius generosity, not to forget Harriet!) Finally, I too was very struck by the Richard Hugo quote Don Share posted just above. <i>"Our reaction against the sentimentality embodied in Victorian and post-Victorian writing was so resolute writers came to believe that the further from sentimentality we got, the truer the art. That was a mistake." It sure was--just listen to the tone of that <b>verbatim</b>! Christopher I know you’re already mostly in bed by now, but I’m afraid I’m not quite finished. Forgive me for not waiting for your sun to rise.

Where all this got started, this leg of the chillin the villies thread, was with Colin Ward’s statement, “Poetry is verbatim.” If you follow that back just a bit you’ll see where shortly before Colin Ward had stopped the romantic tendencies of the discussion by insisting to Annie Finch, I think, that pre-literate poetry was word for word as it was always overseen by the elders. “Oh, yes,” he wrote, “it would 99+% of the time, in fact. Elders would see to that! . . . It was the pedagogue’s job to see that it didn’t do so [change] from one speaker to the next. Rulers might not have been invented to draw straight lines!”

I agree with Colin Ward on this–indeed, I was trying to say just that when he got me with his magnum verbatim! But I see a big problem in the craft aspect of the training as it’s practiced today in America, and particularly on a gigantic website like Poets.org where the Elders are invisible and inviolate–a little like they are in Iran. And I don’t think teachers should be like that in poetry, ever, simply because in the training of poets the intellectual, emotional and moral development is far more important to the quality of the poetry that ensues than the mechanics!

Would you agree the Elders would have seen to that too, Colin Ward?

What I’m getting at is that I think we’ve arrived at a perilous moment in American poetry, because for the first time in the history of the world, poetry is a business, and most of the Elders get paid. They also give out the prizes, get the books published, write the blurbs, write the reviews, and make the appointments. So craft has a lot more riding on it than mere skill development!

There–I’ve got that one off my chest. (And thank God, I say, for Ruth Lilly’s genius generosity, not to forget Harriet!)

Finally, I too was very struck by the Richard Hugo quote Don Share posted just above. “Our reaction against the sentimentality embodied in Victorian and post-Victorian writing was so resolute writers came to believe that the further from sentimentality we got, the truer the art. That was a mistake.”

It sure was–just listen to the tone of that verbatim!

Christopher
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