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Posts Tagged ‘National Poetry Month 2013’

Thank You, Thank You, Thank You! May 3, 2013: Harriet Staff would like to thank all the poets who made our National Poetry Month celebration an engaging, instructive, thoughtful, and fun month. So please put your hands together, dear readers, and applaud the wonderful writing that's taken place this month by Micah Ballard, Mary Jo Bang, Bill Berkson, Alan Davies, Timothy Donnelly, [...] by

On Knowing: Quasi-intelligibility, or Good-bye National Poetry Month! May 3, 2013: In On Photography, Susan Sontag discusses Walter Benjamin’s ideal work of literary criticism. According to Sontag, for Benjamin, the ideal work of literary of criticism would be made up of nothing but quotes. Sontag writes: “Benjamin’s own ideal project reads like a sublimated version of the photographer’s activity. This project was a [...] by

Deterritorializations: Repetition, Stutter, Report P.S.: Catabolism, Or Translation as a Destructive Metabolism, Or Your Exchange Value May 3, 2013: [caption id="attachment_66929" align="aligncenter" width="500"] View from Highway 170 off-ramp at Sherman Way, North Hollywood.[/caption] We can take refuge/in something other than the mind for image does/not always follow content. —Tsering Wangmo Dhompa, from “Catabolism” Catabolism, according to various online dictionaries, is a [...] by

Quasi-unintelligibility (Coda) May 3, 2013: “I have the greatest dislike for explanations,” an emphatic Stevens once wrote to Ronald Lane Latimer, the pseudonymous editor of Alcestis Press, a small and short-lived leftist publishing outfit in New York City back in the 1930s. “As soon as people are perfectly sure of a poem they are just as likely as not to have no further interest in [...] by

Towards a Poetics of the Phatic (Part 2) May 3, 2013: In one sense, the phatic is perhaps the oldest and most fundamental dimension of poetry. The impulse to speak in meter or rhyme, for example, is relatable to the infant impulse toward babble, the delight taken in hearing oneself—or others—speak. Many of the same features Jakobson assigns to the poetic function (repetition, soundplay, etc.) [...] by

Nick Piombino’s Fait Accompli Blog 10th Anniversary May 3, 2013: The tenth anniversary of Nick Piombino’s blog Fait Accompli will not pass without comment. Following the NYC events of 9/11 Nick felt a strong need for literary community and dialogue and began to communicate frequently with poets on the Suny/Buffalo poetics list. Speaking further about the origins of Fait Accompli / Nick has said [...] by

Deterritorializations: Repetition, Stutter, Report (the second of two brief forays with a P.S. to come) May 2, 2013: I want to explore a word that has taken hold of my consciousness and the hum of my interior thoughtscape—a word I realize, as I try to write about it, I don’t quite know how to articulate (which is, perhaps, precisely the articulation this particular word requires). I first encountered the term “untranslation” in Felipe [...] by

Our Slaves: Caring for Masters, Deforming Mastery (Part 2 of 2) May 2, 2013: [caption id="attachment_66854" align="alignright" width="500"] Cape Coast Slave Castle[/caption] “Cape Coast Castle,” a poem in Yusef Komunyakaa’s Chameleon Couch (his most recent book), begins with a haunting. The speaker of poem declares in the first line: “I made love to you, & it loomed there.” The “it” returns again and [...] by

Towards a Poetics of the Phatic (Part 1) May 2, 2013: [caption id="attachment_66845" align="alignright" width="500"] M. H. Abrams[/caption] [The following is derived from my notes for a talk I gave at the "Rethinking Poetics" conference held at Columbia University on Friday, June 11, 2010.] M. H. Abrams’s 1953 introduction to The Mirror and the Lamp (“The Orientation of Critical Theories”) [...] by

The Melancholy May 2, 2013: Everybody was feeling the melancholy. Each felt it in her own way. They used the word melancholy because of global post history. The humour became a politics. The ones who claimed they weren’t melancholic were in denial. Theirs was the deepest form. Some were just tired, a word they would repeat to themselves vaguely. There was dread. [...] by