Greg Cook (no relation) on line breaks in his comics:
"I had always read through lines of poetry until I heard you folks reading in your halting manner.
What struck me is how this might be used to accent or change the meaning of lines. How you break the lines, I find, can also be used to emphasize multiple meanings in words. I've since adopted something of this in my comics, much to the consternation of many of my readers (including my publisher). I think the breaks tend to be more emphatic (perhaps jarring is a better word) in comics -- or my comics at least -- because the physical space (and often drawings) between lines makes it much more difficult to "read through."
I may be using line breaks in a clumsy way, but I think if you look at part of my comic "The Weight" (http://www.highwaterbooks.com/greg/greg_063.html) -- which I should note that I didn't actually write -- the break between "Years/Afterwards while on a fishing voyage..." as well as the physical space and the change in setting, greatly emphasizes the passing of time. And I think the transition between the final two panels of the comic is also quite effective. The words are "a millstone to his neck and jumped/overboard." In that line break, though the actual jump is not depicted, the man (if it works as I hope) seems to hang there in the air with his final, fatal choice.
For a different example, maybe look at my "All the Goodbyes" piece (http://www.highwaterbooks.com/greg/greg_021.html and http://www.highwaterbooks.com/greg/greg_022.html). The line break between the man's dialogue at the end of the first page "Look, you're" and continuing on the next "You're doing the best you can" I think emphasizes the hesitant way in which he speaks (or at least I intend him to speak) in this awkward situation.
This brings up what might be called the "turning the page" phenomenon that I think can be used in comics to great effect, though I'm not sure it's much use in poetry. The turning of the page can be used as a sort of grand line break to help accent transitions or unveil surprizes, etc, because each time you turn the page something new is instantly revealed by the art.
Warmest regards,
Greg"
Thursday, December 04, 2003
Monday, December 01, 2003
S. A. T. U. R. D. A. Y Night
LINES
Today Ron Silliman & Dale Smith weigh in on the problem of the line. Some poets from the Northampton-metroBoston-Gloucester triangle had a related chat at the Commander in Cambridge, MA after terrific readings by David Perry, Mike County, and Nick Piombino at Wordsworth Saturday night.
At the Commander, I recounted a discussion a friend & I had some years back about the linebreak pause made by Creeley (& many other Boston area poets, perhaps elsewhere too).* My friend & I were in agreement that it is usually dreadful--sing-song sickly--to hear regular, metrical verse read this way.** However, he feels this is true of irregular metrical verse ("free" verse, projective verse, etc.) as well. He offered Olson's reading as a defense. Olson, despite the rhethoric about breath, did not pause (or breathe) at the end of his lines. (I also knew--during our discussion--that WCW also did not pause at his linebreaks when reading.)
Now what? O.K.
I think bebop jazz--important to Creeley & Bill Corbett but not to WCW or Olson--has something to do w/ the linebreak pause. It creates syncopation--often causing a normally unstressed syllable/word to be stressed. This sycopation can affect the rhythm & the meaning (or possible meanings) of the syntactical units, which is why I feel it is important to read poets like Creeley & Corbett with linebreak pauses. {I'm not the first to say this.}
Such an approach is important {or at least useful}, that is, if one, as a reader, wants to have the experience of a poem that the poet *intends* {uh oh}, that is if one wants to hear it as the poet hears it/reads it. {Of course the poet may hear & read quite differently, no?} If I stand by the assertion that it is at least useful to hear linebreak pauses if the poet intends them, how then can we know if the poet intends them?
The poem can be scored by dots a la Duncan or WCW's _Paterson_ {if I remember correctly}. But what if the poem is not scored? Must one hear the poet read? How does one read a line?
& then, as a poet, why does one break the line where one does?
Noah sd that he does not naturally write in lines, that his poetry begins unlineated & so any shaping of lines wld be an imposition of a sort, especially given that no theory of linebreaks seems satisfying at the momen (Conversely, Silliman sez this *apparent* lack of a viable, convincing argument for why these lines & why not those is fuel for New Formalism.)
Mick/Michael & Yuri sd the ends of their lines often contain the beginnings of the next thought (or, dare I link it to Olson by writing, the next perception?). This then is related more to thought than to sound (though these are interwoven in poetry: "the HEAD, by way of the EAR, to the SYLLABLE/the HEART, by way of the BREATH, to the LINE".
I have never sufficiently understood the specifics of these lines from "Projective Verse" though I've grasped the importance of the body-in-the-world to writing poetry. But I've been tempted to argue that Olson's lines are shaped more by a BREATH perhaps of the HEART (is the heart intuition?) than by a BREATH of the body (i.e. physical breath, actual breathing). His readings might be evidence of this.
{I hope this is sufficiently tentative to elicit responses instead of denouncements.})
Where do you break a line & why?
& do you sound linebreaks when you read your own work? the work of others? who? why?
____________________
*Full disclosure: In 1995, I read "Projective Verse" quite literally & quite enthusiastically. I immediately began to write what I thought were projective poems & I read them as I thought such poems should be read. Each line was a breath & so I would pause as if for a breath at the end of each line. Through Ralph Ellison, Sam Cornish (& his reading style), & a desire to impress my future wife, I was also listening to lots of jazz & trying to use it musically in my poems. Linebreak pauses were a way of approximating syncopation. (See {again}: Ellison (esp. Preface to Invisible Man) & the poetry of Sam Cornish.) Many of you will recognize much of the preceding as a common post-Beat, post-New American Poetry rite of passage.
**(As most of you know, I'm a high school English teacher. Too many of my students insist--even after discussing the issue--that a linebreak pause (which emphasizes the rhyme--if there is one--in a sing song manner) is proper. I suppose after 11 or 12 years of hearing teachers read regular, metrical poetry w/ a linebreak pause the students are to be forgiven.)
_________________
slan,
j.c.
LINES
Today Ron Silliman & Dale Smith weigh in on the problem of the line. Some poets from the Northampton-metroBoston-Gloucester triangle had a related chat at the Commander in Cambridge, MA after terrific readings by David Perry, Mike County, and Nick Piombino at Wordsworth Saturday night.
At the Commander, I recounted a discussion a friend & I had some years back about the linebreak pause made by Creeley (& many other Boston area poets, perhaps elsewhere too).* My friend & I were in agreement that it is usually dreadful--sing-song sickly--to hear regular, metrical verse read this way.** However, he feels this is true of irregular metrical verse ("free" verse, projective verse, etc.) as well. He offered Olson's reading as a defense. Olson, despite the rhethoric about breath, did not pause (or breathe) at the end of his lines. (I also knew--during our discussion--that WCW also did not pause at his linebreaks when reading.)
Now what? O.K.
I think bebop jazz--important to Creeley & Bill Corbett but not to WCW or Olson--has something to do w/ the linebreak pause. It creates syncopation--often causing a normally unstressed syllable/word to be stressed. This sycopation can affect the rhythm & the meaning (or possible meanings) of the syntactical units, which is why I feel it is important to read poets like Creeley & Corbett with linebreak pauses. {I'm not the first to say this.}
Such an approach is important {or at least useful}, that is, if one, as a reader, wants to have the experience of a poem that the poet *intends* {uh oh}, that is if one wants to hear it as the poet hears it/reads it. {Of course the poet may hear & read quite differently, no?} If I stand by the assertion that it is at least useful to hear linebreak pauses if the poet intends them, how then can we know if the poet intends them?
The poem can be scored by dots a la Duncan or WCW's _Paterson_ {if I remember correctly}. But what if the poem is not scored? Must one hear the poet read? How does one read a line?
& then, as a poet, why does one break the line where one does?
Noah sd that he does not naturally write in lines, that his poetry begins unlineated & so any shaping of lines wld be an imposition of a sort, especially given that no theory of linebreaks seems satisfying at the momen (Conversely, Silliman sez this *apparent* lack of a viable, convincing argument for why these lines & why not those is fuel for New Formalism.)
Mick/Michael & Yuri sd the ends of their lines often contain the beginnings of the next thought (or, dare I link it to Olson by writing, the next perception?). This then is related more to thought than to sound (though these are interwoven in poetry: "the HEAD, by way of the EAR, to the SYLLABLE/the HEART, by way of the BREATH, to the LINE".
I have never sufficiently understood the specifics of these lines from "Projective Verse" though I've grasped the importance of the body-in-the-world to writing poetry. But I've been tempted to argue that Olson's lines are shaped more by a BREATH perhaps of the HEART (is the heart intuition?) than by a BREATH of the body (i.e. physical breath, actual breathing). His readings might be evidence of this.
{I hope this is sufficiently tentative to elicit responses instead of denouncements.})
Where do you break a line & why?
& do you sound linebreaks when you read your own work? the work of others? who? why?
____________________
*Full disclosure: In 1995, I read "Projective Verse" quite literally & quite enthusiastically. I immediately began to write what I thought were projective poems & I read them as I thought such poems should be read. Each line was a breath & so I would pause as if for a breath at the end of each line. Through Ralph Ellison, Sam Cornish (& his reading style), & a desire to impress my future wife, I was also listening to lots of jazz & trying to use it musically in my poems. Linebreak pauses were a way of approximating syncopation. (See {again}: Ellison (esp. Preface to Invisible Man) & the poetry of Sam Cornish.) Many of you will recognize much of the preceding as a common post-Beat, post-New American Poetry rite of passage.
**(As most of you know, I'm a high school English teacher. Too many of my students insist--even after discussing the issue--that a linebreak pause (which emphasizes the rhyme--if there is one--in a sing song manner) is proper. I suppose after 11 or 12 years of hearing teachers read regular, metrical poetry w/ a linebreak pause the students are to be forgiven.)
_________________
slan,
j.c.
Tuesday, November 25, 2003
This correction from Michael Carr:
"I write for myself and strangers. The strangers, dear reader, are an afterthought."
Thanks. I agree Mick. The strangers *do* indeed make it even better.
The last two books I've taught include significant strangers. In Frankenstein, Victor is first introduced as a "stranger" in Walton's letters to his sister. The Beowulf-character is called a "stranger"--and, indirectly, "the fish"--in John Gardner's Grendel.
Since I often blog about not blogging (due to time constraints), I'm apparently **in**.
Back to those recommendations.
slan,
j.c.
"I write for myself and strangers. The strangers, dear reader, are an afterthought."
Thanks. I agree Mick. The strangers *do* indeed make it even better.
The last two books I've taught include significant strangers. In Frankenstein, Victor is first introduced as a "stranger" in Walton's letters to his sister. The Beowulf-character is called a "stranger"--and, indirectly, "the fish"--in John Gardner's Grendel.
Since I often blog about not blogging (due to time constraints), I'm apparently **in**.
Back to those recommendations.
slan,
j.c.
Monday, November 24, 2003
Missed Nathaniel Mackey Thursday night. {Since M. County outed me as a soccer coach last week, I should publicly embrace that avocation: Last Thursday I was presenting awards at a soccer banquet. Despite my love for futbol, I'd rather've been at the reading.}
from "Song of the Andoumboulou: 20":
" I was the what-sayer./Whatever he said I would/ say so what./ Boated whether/ we came by train or by/ bus, green light/loomed on the horizon./ Where we were might've/ been the moon. . ."
{"/" indicates linebreaks; spacings are more or less accurate; I don't quite know how to format poems properly. I will learn when I have more time--fewer papers to grade and recommendations to write.}
Found Whatsaid Serif some years back at Mercer Books in Manhattan. A joy to reread. Shocking how poor a reader I was the first time around. I think Mackey's poetics must've been just enough post-The-New-American-Poetry-1945-1960-Book-I that I was baffled. But rereading now I wonder if it was just a lack of an adequate searchlight of the mind or ... or... . So much can get in the way of poetry that one later is knocked out by. {Ron Silliman had some words about this recently.} Whatever the reason--& perhaps it was that I came home w/ another bk that stole my mind; did I buy Spicer's Collected Books on that trip to Mercer?--I've only just been as turned on by Mackey's poetry as I'd been by his prose. (There was no lack of motivation to experience the poems. Based on Gerrit's word, a few essays, & Mackey's {thinly?} veiled appearance in bell hooks' Wounds of Passion , I wanted to read & grasp the poems as best I cld.)
Perhaps more on the old New American Poetry later. {Spicer from Bk II for what it's worth. {Nothing?}} More on Allen, {& then} Rothenberg, Quasha, and Joris as anthologists too might be necessary. But I say that--"more later"--a lot. More is seldom forthcoming. Where does the time go?
And so it goes.
*
"I write for myself and for others. The others, dear reader, are an afterthought."
These words are a close paraphrase of words written by Gertrude Stein. G.S.'s words appeared in the Boston Globe during my youth.
*
And how much has reading made any of us who we are? How much does reading change us? Guess that's the central question that binds the work of earlier this evening--recommendation writing--with that of later this evening--reading Whatsaid Serif? This weekend a good friend said that reading is more important than writing. Guess that's in my mind too.
slan,
j.c.
from "Song of the Andoumboulou: 20":
" I was the what-sayer./Whatever he said I would/ say so what./ Boated whether/ we came by train or by/ bus, green light/loomed on the horizon./ Where we were might've/ been the moon. . ."
{"/" indicates linebreaks; spacings are more or less accurate; I don't quite know how to format poems properly. I will learn when I have more time--fewer papers to grade and recommendations to write.}
Found Whatsaid Serif some years back at Mercer Books in Manhattan. A joy to reread. Shocking how poor a reader I was the first time around. I think Mackey's poetics must've been just enough post-The-New-American-Poetry-1945-1960-Book-I that I was baffled. But rereading now I wonder if it was just a lack of an adequate searchlight of the mind or ... or... . So much can get in the way of poetry that one later is knocked out by. {Ron Silliman had some words about this recently.} Whatever the reason--& perhaps it was that I came home w/ another bk that stole my mind; did I buy Spicer's Collected Books on that trip to Mercer?--I've only just been as turned on by Mackey's poetry as I'd been by his prose. (There was no lack of motivation to experience the poems. Based on Gerrit's word, a few essays, & Mackey's {thinly?} veiled appearance in bell hooks' Wounds of Passion , I wanted to read & grasp the poems as best I cld.)
Perhaps more on the old New American Poetry later. {Spicer from Bk II for what it's worth. {Nothing?}} More on Allen, {& then} Rothenberg, Quasha, and Joris as anthologists too might be necessary. But I say that--"more later"--a lot. More is seldom forthcoming. Where does the time go?
And so it goes.
*
"I write for myself and for others. The others, dear reader, are an afterthought."
These words are a close paraphrase of words written by Gertrude Stein. G.S.'s words appeared in the Boston Globe during my youth.
*
And how much has reading made any of us who we are? How much does reading change us? Guess that's the central question that binds the work of earlier this evening--recommendation writing--with that of later this evening--reading Whatsaid Serif? This weekend a good friend said that reading is more important than writing. Guess that's in my mind too.
slan,
j.c.
Tuesday, November 18, 2003
Went to the Cambridge Y last night to hear a panel discussion on subversive theater. Cutting to the quick: it was mostly disappointing in all the usual ways. The right was uselessly caricatured. Critiques led quickly to self-congratulation. Important & interesting distinctions were avoided in the name of solidarity. Panelists talked across and through each other most of evening.
I'm glad I went neverthessless. If only for this from Brecht: Is the policeman a worker?
W/ a brother in the military this has been an important question for me over the last few years.
Another good outcome: I will reread Fanny Howe's essay in the new Poker w/ other notions of poetry & politics & lives lived in mind.
~
More on the event: (I've said nothing yet about the four panelists. As you'll notice two of 'em are well known. Maybe I'll get to that later.)
SYMPOSIUM ON SUBVERSIVE PAPIER-MÂCHÉ AND OTHER TOOLS FOR CREATIVE DISSENT
Monday, November 17, 7 pm
with Peter Schumann (Director, Bread and Puppet Theater), Howard Zinn (Historian and Playwright), Robbie McCauley (Performance Artist, Director, and Emerson College professor), Xander Marra (Movie Maker, Puppeteer and member of Dirt Palace, a feminist art collective in Providence, RI); moderated by Dr. John Bell (Puppet Historian, Emerson College professor and author of Puppets, Masks and Performing Objects) suggested donation $5
~
From the soft city:
walking w/ friends after parking the car, I realized I spend far more time walking in Medford, Somerville, Cambridge, and Boston than I do here in Gloucester.
(This has many implications. But they'll have to wait until after teaching & meeting.)
~
slan,
j.c.
I'm glad I went neverthessless. If only for this from Brecht: Is the policeman a worker?
W/ a brother in the military this has been an important question for me over the last few years.
Another good outcome: I will reread Fanny Howe's essay in the new Poker w/ other notions of poetry & politics & lives lived in mind.
~
More on the event: (I've said nothing yet about the four panelists. As you'll notice two of 'em are well known. Maybe I'll get to that later.)
SYMPOSIUM ON SUBVERSIVE PAPIER-MÂCHÉ AND OTHER TOOLS FOR CREATIVE DISSENT
Monday, November 17, 7 pm
with Peter Schumann (Director, Bread and Puppet Theater), Howard Zinn (Historian and Playwright), Robbie McCauley (Performance Artist, Director, and Emerson College professor), Xander Marra (Movie Maker, Puppeteer and member of Dirt Palace, a feminist art collective in Providence, RI); moderated by Dr. John Bell (Puppet Historian, Emerson College professor and author of Puppets, Masks and Performing Objects) suggested donation $5
~
From the soft city:
walking w/ friends after parking the car, I realized I spend far more time walking in Medford, Somerville, Cambridge, and Boston than I do here in Gloucester.
(This has many implications. But they'll have to wait until after teaching & meeting.)
~
slan,
j.c.
Monday, November 17, 2003
from the observation tower of the ghost city {w/ reports from the flesh}:
* I am a ghost-ghost. I am not even here.
* ...whereas you are there. Aren't you?
* There is a children's program on PBS set in "cyperspace". I learned about civics and logic w/ my nephews. Except for its setting, the show is a conventional public television cartoon.
* When I stand up and turn around I can see my nephews' house from this room. Do you believe me?
* I am still reading Poker 3. Want to talk to Aaron Kunin 'bout his piece 'cause tho' I think I grasp his point, I don't grasp the import of the point. Aaron are you there? Could anyone send him my (e)way?
* I have also been thinking about Richard Demming's introduction to the Williams talk/essay/fragment/notes in Poker 3. That bit about the Eliotic & Williamsesque responses to tradition is, I think, quite relevent to our moment. (Unfortunately, I don't have the text in front of me.)
*Saturday I read and enjoyed James Thomas Stevens' Tonkinish. Cover reminded me of Fanny Howe's Amerinidan Coastline Poem.
* It's about time I started to acknowledge Throwing Muses & especially Ms. Hersh as a significant influence on the "Arguments" I've been writing of late.
* Joel Sloman's transformations of Trakl must find a way into the wider world. "I'm attracted to you because you [create? attract?] violence." "Tiny black larvae like em dashes..."
* More Joel: "Patchwork": "the modern patchwork" "speech clarified" "if one was listening/one was tired/tired of speech" "one was modern/one was composite"
* From Xtina: "we must suffer them all again patterns..." "grieving reaches out and pistol whips your name here..." "if we had remember[ed?] a gesture of locations"
* My argument w/ poetry is as yet unsettled.
* Who among you has read Lovecraft's "The Outsider"?
slan,
j.c.
* I am a ghost-ghost. I am not even here.
* ...whereas you are there. Aren't you?
* There is a children's program on PBS set in "cyperspace". I learned about civics and logic w/ my nephews. Except for its setting, the show is a conventional public television cartoon.
* When I stand up and turn around I can see my nephews' house from this room. Do you believe me?
* I am still reading Poker 3. Want to talk to Aaron Kunin 'bout his piece 'cause tho' I think I grasp his point, I don't grasp the import of the point. Aaron are you there? Could anyone send him my (e)way?
* I have also been thinking about Richard Demming's introduction to the Williams talk/essay/fragment/notes in Poker 3. That bit about the Eliotic & Williamsesque responses to tradition is, I think, quite relevent to our moment. (Unfortunately, I don't have the text in front of me.)
*Saturday I read and enjoyed James Thomas Stevens' Tonkinish. Cover reminded me of Fanny Howe's Amerinidan Coastline Poem.
* It's about time I started to acknowledge Throwing Muses & especially Ms. Hersh as a significant influence on the "Arguments" I've been writing of late.
* Joel Sloman's transformations of Trakl must find a way into the wider world. "I'm attracted to you because you [create? attract?] violence." "Tiny black larvae like em dashes..."
* More Joel: "Patchwork": "the modern patchwork" "speech clarified" "if one was listening/one was tired/tired of speech" "one was modern/one was composite"
* From Xtina: "we must suffer them all again patterns..." "grieving reaches out and pistol whips your name here..." "if we had remember[ed?] a gesture of locations"
* My argument w/ poetry is as yet unsettled.
* Who among you has read Lovecraft's "The Outsider"?
slan,
j.c.
Friday, November 14, 2003
Saturday, November 01, 2003
It was a day to be someone else. Just one day. I envy Karl. The grass is always more interesting on the other side of the fence. Over there it's softer. A good place to sleep. Down the street sharper. Keeps them up nights working on their moon-howling. Here it's brown & patchy. Guess that's not altogether uninteresting. But I'm always tempted to use the green spraypaint.
*
Amanda & Xtina sat next to me at the outdoor mass. We sat in chairs on the street but no cars came & we may not have been in their way had they come. I think we were on a deadend in the South End. The priest ignored us. Mark was bored. Looked over at the episcopalians who were walking into their small, elegant church a half-block down the street. I, too, turned & watched them process into their church. The Catholic priest gave up & left while we weren't looking. Joel read the whole time. At least I think it was Joel. When we realized the priest had left we picked up our chairs & headed inside. This, as you've guessed, was a dream. A dream I'm glad I remembered. I thank the power that decided to go out Thursday night.
*
Many of you are w/in walking distance. But I'll have to be satisfied w/ this typing. Hope to see you tomorrow. Yes, you.
slan,
j.c.
*
Amanda & Xtina sat next to me at the outdoor mass. We sat in chairs on the street but no cars came & we may not have been in their way had they come. I think we were on a deadend in the South End. The priest ignored us. Mark was bored. Looked over at the episcopalians who were walking into their small, elegant church a half-block down the street. I, too, turned & watched them process into their church. The Catholic priest gave up & left while we weren't looking. Joel read the whole time. At least I think it was Joel. When we realized the priest had left we picked up our chairs & headed inside. This, as you've guessed, was a dream. A dream I'm glad I remembered. I thank the power that decided to go out Thursday night.
*
Many of you are w/in walking distance. But I'll have to be satisfied w/ this typing. Hope to see you tomorrow. Yes, you.
slan,
j.c.
Thursday, October 30, 2003
Wednesday, October 22, 2003
Two weeks since last post. That long?
Three strong readings last week: thank you George Stanley, Jack Kimball, and Tim Peterson.
Heartbreak cliche last Thursday night.
These fall days in which I am tired and continually forgetting things I often imagine poetry as an escape. What draws me to certain poetry is the freedom of thought I find therein. Play of the imagination too. & invention. All that is denied a bureaucrat (which is what a public school teacher often is). To claim freedom, imagination, invention is a political act. & *is* different from other escapes. Passive ones, especially. Not that I don't indulge in these but I want to make special claims for poetry.
We've heard this all before. But today these comments are a way of thanking George, Jack, and Tim. None of whom may read this.
Now I will try to remember all that I am currently forgetting.
slan,
j.c.
Three strong readings last week: thank you George Stanley, Jack Kimball, and Tim Peterson.
Heartbreak cliche last Thursday night.
These fall days in which I am tired and continually forgetting things I often imagine poetry as an escape. What draws me to certain poetry is the freedom of thought I find therein. Play of the imagination too. & invention. All that is denied a bureaucrat (which is what a public school teacher often is). To claim freedom, imagination, invention is a political act. & *is* different from other escapes. Passive ones, especially. Not that I don't indulge in these but I want to make special claims for poetry.
We've heard this all before. But today these comments are a way of thanking George, Jack, and Tim. None of whom may read this.
Now I will try to remember all that I am currently forgetting.
slan,
j.c.
Wednesday, October 08, 2003
Amanda returns tonight. Touches down in East Boston at 8:56.
*
Read & discussed Jordan Davis' poem "W" in a Brit Lit class today. "Brit Lit?," you ask. "Yes," I answer. "W" deals (humorously & seriously, I think) w/ many theories about monsters. & in the Brit Lit curriculum here at GHS we teach _Beowulf_, _Grendel_, _Lord of the Flies_, _Frankenstein_ as well "Tyger" & "The Second Coming" (though most teachers only dabble in the poetry).
(Ach! the poem is back in my classroom; I'm typing in the copier room during my prep block. {Since this is the last block of the day there's no more prep to be done, though plenty of grading.}) In any case the poem is polyvocal (no single narrator it seems or no single occasion for narration perhaps) & so offers the students a bit of a challenge, but no one they were unwilling to take up. The discussion was heartening. They were willing to talk about the different tones of the different narrators. (Or perhaps one narrator w/ many tones. As a romantic, I'm tempted to read J.D.'s poems this way.) This possibility was in fact enormously helpful to them in understanding/experiencing the poem. (Understanding implies a kind of *answer* that I'm not sure the poem gives.) Maybe I'll have a chance to talk more specifically about the poem later but I thought I'd jot down a few things about a specific poem I like (& teach) so maybe others could do the same.
Also if non-bloggers want to write a little informal response to a particular poem, I could post said responses here.
Off to a school newspaper meeting, my next teacherly task.
slan,
j.c.
*
Read & discussed Jordan Davis' poem "W" in a Brit Lit class today. "Brit Lit?," you ask. "Yes," I answer. "W" deals (humorously & seriously, I think) w/ many theories about monsters. & in the Brit Lit curriculum here at GHS we teach _Beowulf_, _Grendel_, _Lord of the Flies_, _Frankenstein_ as well "Tyger" & "The Second Coming" (though most teachers only dabble in the poetry).
(Ach! the poem is back in my classroom; I'm typing in the copier room during my prep block. {Since this is the last block of the day there's no more prep to be done, though plenty of grading.}) In any case the poem is polyvocal (no single narrator it seems or no single occasion for narration perhaps) & so offers the students a bit of a challenge, but no one they were unwilling to take up. The discussion was heartening. They were willing to talk about the different tones of the different narrators. (Or perhaps one narrator w/ many tones. As a romantic, I'm tempted to read J.D.'s poems this way.) This possibility was in fact enormously helpful to them in understanding/experiencing the poem. (Understanding implies a kind of *answer* that I'm not sure the poem gives.) Maybe I'll have a chance to talk more specifically about the poem later but I thought I'd jot down a few things about a specific poem I like (& teach) so maybe others could do the same.
Also if non-bloggers want to write a little informal response to a particular poem, I could post said responses here.
Off to a school newspaper meeting, my next teacherly task.
slan,
j.c.
Monday, October 06, 2003
At GHS late grading papers.
Would like to hear more about the Friday & Saturday readings at Waterstones from those who were there. New poems from Mr. Bouchard? Was tired & disturbed by the world Saturday. A good day to stay in Gloucester. Sad to miss the poems. In better spirits on Sunday & am glad not to have stayed home. Many thanks to all who made the day. Many thanks to the weather too. Thanks to my students for not lynching me when I came in without all their essays graded. When I return home I'll finish rereading Midwinter Day lent to me by Tim Peterson. Many thanks to Tim. Many thanks to yesterdays Wordsworth readers.
***
$.02
Finally got around to checking out the Boston Comment stuff. (Yup I know I'm behind. Look at the date of my last post.) The Post-Post Dementia essay gets downright silly when discussing Christina Mengert's poem in Slope.
Here's the poem
Is an axle's excavation
an axiom's inversion
that muzzles
the ventriloquist breath
of a nipple. The revolving door
of its throat.
Though Houlihan says words don't matter in Mengert to my eye & ear they seem chosen quite purposefully. Houlihan says "revolving" might just as well be "sliding," etc. But what then about the "axel"? (& its suggestion also of "axle")? She says "throat" might just as well be "scalp"; what then of the "breath"? I'm not going to argue that it's a great poem but to say that the word choices are random & meaningless is just plain silly.
So I propose, bloggers of the ghost city, that we--I guess me too--take a bit of time to talk about some poems we like, love, find pleasure in, find x in, etc. What is it that we see there? Dementia?
***
I've only recently been able to listen to The Smiths again. For many years the music too painfully reminded me of adolescence & young adulthood--all my shortcomings, cowardice, failures, awkwardness, loneliness, misunderstandings, delusions, etc. But now I can hear the music again & I hear it half remembering but half uncomprehending what it was I once heard, since now the pleasures in the music are quite different than they were then.
To Shin Yu & Aaron: I would like to nominate as anthems of a sort, "Ask" & "Stretch Out & Wait". I should also say that due to my age my first Smiths tape was Strangeways, Here We Come. Because I had it w/ me in England & Scotland at age 16 the music has a particularly lurid sonic glow.
slan,
j.c.
Would like to hear more about the Friday & Saturday readings at Waterstones from those who were there. New poems from Mr. Bouchard? Was tired & disturbed by the world Saturday. A good day to stay in Gloucester. Sad to miss the poems. In better spirits on Sunday & am glad not to have stayed home. Many thanks to all who made the day. Many thanks to the weather too. Thanks to my students for not lynching me when I came in without all their essays graded. When I return home I'll finish rereading Midwinter Day lent to me by Tim Peterson. Many thanks to Tim. Many thanks to yesterdays Wordsworth readers.
***
$.02
Finally got around to checking out the Boston Comment stuff. (Yup I know I'm behind. Look at the date of my last post.) The Post-Post Dementia essay gets downright silly when discussing Christina Mengert's poem in Slope.
Here's the poem
Is an axle's excavation
an axiom's inversion
that muzzles
the ventriloquist breath
of a nipple. The revolving door
of its throat.
Though Houlihan says words don't matter in Mengert to my eye & ear they seem chosen quite purposefully. Houlihan says "revolving" might just as well be "sliding," etc. But what then about the "axel"? (& its suggestion also of "axle")? She says "throat" might just as well be "scalp"; what then of the "breath"? I'm not going to argue that it's a great poem but to say that the word choices are random & meaningless is just plain silly.
So I propose, bloggers of the ghost city, that we--I guess me too--take a bit of time to talk about some poems we like, love, find pleasure in, find x in, etc. What is it that we see there? Dementia?
***
I've only recently been able to listen to The Smiths again. For many years the music too painfully reminded me of adolescence & young adulthood--all my shortcomings, cowardice, failures, awkwardness, loneliness, misunderstandings, delusions, etc. But now I can hear the music again & I hear it half remembering but half uncomprehending what it was I once heard, since now the pleasures in the music are quite different than they were then.
To Shin Yu & Aaron: I would like to nominate as anthems of a sort, "Ask" & "Stretch Out & Wait". I should also say that due to my age my first Smiths tape was Strangeways, Here We Come. Because I had it w/ me in England & Scotland at age 16 the music has a particularly lurid sonic glow.
slan,
j.c.
Friday, September 12, 2003
I realize no one will read this. I realize many have stopped checking this site because of the infrequency of posts. I realize I have bored you one time too many.
~
Don't go to the Independent Christian Church (Unitarian-Universalist) on Saturday September 13 to hear me read poems. Do not walk through the doors at seven for the soundcheck or at seven thirty for the opening act or at eight for the poetry or at eight thirty for the featured performer. Don't.
~
Please email me ideas for potentially objectionable passages from well known works (the Nausikaa chapter of Ulysses for example). I may read the passages you suggest to the UU crowd on Saturday.
~
I am tired & sad. How are you?
~
I will have a shot of whiskey for Johnny Cash. I hope to get drunk soon. I'm tired & sad. How are you?
~
My principal informed us that the people killed in the World Trade Center towers two years ago were killed "just because they were [U.S.] American." What about the ones who weren't citizens of the United States of America? What were they killed for? I was also informed that we are attacked because of our democracy & freedoms. Curious that the terrorists neglected Canada. I wonder if they know about Canada. Where I am right now I can't have a shot, though I thought of bringing a flask today. A bad sign? More than a bit indulgent & melodramatic? Guilty as charged.
~
Thanks to Mark & Christina & all who have written recently.
~
My Marine brother arrived back in the U.S. Wednesday. I will be happy to see him.
~
Back to school.
~
slainte & paz,
j.c.
~
Don't go to the Independent Christian Church (Unitarian-Universalist) on Saturday September 13 to hear me read poems. Do not walk through the doors at seven for the soundcheck or at seven thirty for the opening act or at eight for the poetry or at eight thirty for the featured performer. Don't.
~
Please email me ideas for potentially objectionable passages from well known works (the Nausikaa chapter of Ulysses for example). I may read the passages you suggest to the UU crowd on Saturday.
~
I am tired & sad. How are you?
~
I will have a shot of whiskey for Johnny Cash. I hope to get drunk soon. I'm tired & sad. How are you?
~
My principal informed us that the people killed in the World Trade Center towers two years ago were killed "just because they were [U.S.] American." What about the ones who weren't citizens of the United States of America? What were they killed for? I was also informed that we are attacked because of our democracy & freedoms. Curious that the terrorists neglected Canada. I wonder if they know about Canada. Where I am right now I can't have a shot, though I thought of bringing a flask today. A bad sign? More than a bit indulgent & melodramatic? Guilty as charged.
~
Thanks to Mark & Christina & all who have written recently.
~
My Marine brother arrived back in the U.S. Wednesday. I will be happy to see him.
~
Back to school.
~
slainte & paz,
j.c.
Friday, August 29, 2003
La Fiesta
Mars obscured. Lucy swinging. Pool playing for Columbine. Seamus drumming. Mars is the Milky Way. Jim toca la guitara. Consuming red globes. Didn't greet Mark w/ "Huya" sign. The Milky Way is Mars. Zac sleepy. Salvation Army filled with striped shirts. Freces y chocolate de Ariane. Seven Nation Army is the White Stripes. Is trash dip. 2:30.
slan,
j.c.
Mars obscured. Lucy swinging. Pool playing for Columbine. Seamus drumming. Mars is the Milky Way. Jim toca la guitara. Consuming red globes. Didn't greet Mark w/ "Huya" sign. The Milky Way is Mars. Zac sleepy. Salvation Army filled with striped shirts. Freces y chocolate de Ariane. Seven Nation Army is the White Stripes. Is trash dip. 2:30.
slan,
j.c.
Friday, August 22, 2003
After visiting Aaron's Fishblog I decided to check out Emerson College's rankings. Here's what I found:
Emerson College's
Best 351 Colleges Rankings
Click on the list name to see all the schools on that list or
click the category name to see all the lists in the category.
Rank List Category
#19 Gay Community Accepted
#7 Students Ignore God on a Regular Basis
#1 Great College Radio Station
#1 Great College Theater
#5 Intercollegiate Sports Unpopular or Nonexistent Extracurriculars
#1 Nobody Plays Intramural Sports
#1 Dodge Ball Targets
Hmm. As an 'ERS d.j., Lions soccer player, & former Catholic, what should I think?
~
Haircut. Met knew teacher. No beer. School bike. Fish taco. Car at Linsky's. Pool: Amanda in, Zac & I play. Brother's birthday. Flava ice. Flava Flav. Cold lampin'. Hot & humid. Griff news Ball Square. Nearly four o'clock. SLEEPING on the Wing. The DELUXE TRANSITIVE VAMPIRE. Dred of ride home. Reactions to haircut. New keyboard. New hard drive. At school. Past four. Time to go. Miss you.
slan,
j.c.
Emerson College's
Best 351 Colleges Rankings
Click on the list name to see all the schools on that list or
click the category name to see all the lists in the category.
Rank List Category
#19 Gay Community Accepted
#7 Students Ignore God on a Regular Basis
#1 Great College Radio Station
#1 Great College Theater
#5 Intercollegiate Sports Unpopular or Nonexistent Extracurriculars
#1 Nobody Plays Intramural Sports
#1 Dodge Ball Targets
Hmm. As an 'ERS d.j., Lions soccer player, & former Catholic, what should I think?
~
Haircut. Met knew teacher. No beer. School bike. Fish taco. Car at Linsky's. Pool: Amanda in, Zac & I play. Brother's birthday. Flava ice. Flava Flav. Cold lampin'. Hot & humid. Griff news Ball Square. Nearly four o'clock. SLEEPING on the Wing. The DELUXE TRANSITIVE VAMPIRE. Dred of ride home. Reactions to haircut. New keyboard. New hard drive. At school. Past four. Time to go. Miss you.
slan,
j.c.
Wednesday, August 20, 2003
Pack. Drive. Stop. Percolator. Portsmouth. Drive. Chinese buffet. Augusta. Drive. Answer. St. Croix, New Brunswick. Drive. Break. Young moose. Drive. Stop. Fredricton. Sleep. Dream. Wake. Drive. Sackville. Talk. Drive. Buy. Essays & Poems. Sackville history. Maps. Paper. Walk. Vegetables. Cheese. Wrap. Coffee. Walk. Library closed. Walk. Book. Drive. Buy. Sackville history. Drive. Amherst Shores, Nova Scotia. Camp. Walk. Swim. Walk. Percolate. Coffee. Sardines. Salad. Wash. Read. Write. Fire. Water. Sleep. Wake. Sleep. Wake. Sleep. Wake. Percolate. Coffee. Cook. Eggs. Bacon. Drive. Moncton, N.B. Walk. Coffee. Boston Cream. Walk. Buy. Canadian folkways. Bowering. Koch. Intimate History of New Brunswick. Notes. Walk. No albums. Walk. Consume. Stout. Poutine Rapees. Mussels. Walk. Coffee. Drive. Stop. Maritime folksongs. Fundy National Park. Tent. Walk out. Red squirrel. Red spruce. Mine residue. Red spruce. Red squirrels. Walk back. Cook. Garlic. Olive Oil. Onions. Black beans. Salad. Wash. Fire. Water. Sleep. Dream. Wake. Percolate. Coffee. Eggs. Bacon. Wash. Walk. Wash. Drive. Lake. Walk. Black spruce. Stream. Wade. Talk. Walk. Drive. Stop. Onion rings. Chowder. Burger. Shake. Past Sussex. Drive. Saint John. Check in. Drive. Carleton Martello Tower. Drive. Walk. Buy. The the. Sugar. Walk. Saint John Market. Acadia flag. New Brunswick flag. Nova Scotia flag. Strawberry shake. Sparkling water. Smell. Fish. Meat. Fruit. Vegetables. See. Trinkets. Drive. Read. Walk. Consume. Haddock w/ Mexican spices & mint. Margaritas. Walk. Sleep. Dream. Wake. Read. Eat. Pancakes. Fruit. Coffee. Drive. Walk. Talk. Maritime history. Loyalists. Book business. Buy. Irish in Canada. Walk. Drive. Stop. Machias, ME. Eat. Tuna melt. Fried clams. Drive. Stop. Belfast, ME. Walk. Drink. Iced Mocha. Eat. Lavender vanilla ice cream. Walk. Co-op. Pickled fiddleheads. Walk. Drive. Stop. Portsmouth. Friendly toast. Eat. Matt #2. Drink. PBR. Moxie. Drive. A. Piatt Andrew Bridge. Grant Circle. Washington Street. Stop. Annisquam, Gloucester, MA. Smell. Cooler. Clean. Sleep. Dream. Wake. Unpack. Drive. GHS. Talk. Principal. Email. Blogs. Type.
slan,
j.c.
slan,
j.c.
Pack. Drive. Stop. Percolator. Portsmouth. Drive. Chinese buffet. Augusta. Drive. Answer. St. Croix, New Brunswick. Drive. Break. Young moose. Drive. Stop. Fredricton. Sleep. Dream. Wake. Drive. Sackville. Talk. Drive. Buy. Essays & Poems. Sackville history. Maps. Paper. Walk. Vegetables. Cheese. Wrap. Coffee. Walk. Library closed. Walk. Book. Drive. Buy. Sackville history. Drive. Amherst Shores, Nova Scotia. Camp. Walk. Swim. Walk. Percolate. Coffee. Sardines. Salad. Wash. Read. Write. Fire. Water. Sleep. Wake. Sleep. Wake. Sleep. Wake. Percolate. Coffee. Cook. Eggs. Bacon. Drive. Moncton, N.B. Walk. Coffee. Boston Cream. Walk. Buy. Canadian folkways. Bowering. Koch. Intimate History of New Brunswick. Notes. Walk. No albums. Walk. Consume. Stout. Poutine Rapees. Mussels. Walk. Coffee. Drive. Stop. Maritime folksongs. Fundy National Park. Tent. Walk out. Red squirrel. Red spruce. Mine residue. Red spruce. Red squirrels. Walk back. Cook. Garlic. Olive Oil. Onions. Black beans. Salad. Wash. Fire. Water. Sleep. Dream. Wake. Percolate. Coffee. Eggs. Bacon. Wash. Walk. Wash. Drive. Lake. Walk. Stream. Wade. Talk. Walk. Drive. Stop. Onion rings. Chowder. Burger. Shake. Past Sussex. Drive. Saint John. Check in. Drive. Carleton Martello Tower. Drive. Walk. Buy. The the. Sugar. Walk. Saint John Market. Acadian flag. New Brunswick flag. Nova Scotia flag. Strawberry shake. Sparkling water. Smell. Fish. Meat. Fruit. Vegetables. See. Trinkets. Drive. Read. Walk. Consume. Haddock w/ Mexican spices & mint. Margaritas. Walk. Sleep. Dream. Wake. Read. Eat. Pancakes. Fruit. Coffee. Drive. Walk. Talk. Maritime history. Loyalists. Book business. Buy. Irish in Canada. Walk. Drive. Stop. Machias, ME. Eat. Tuna melt. Fried clams. Drive. Stop. Belfast, ME. Walk. Drink. Iced Mocha. Eat. Lavender vanilla ice cream. Walk. Co-op. Pickled fiddleheads. Walk. Drive. Stop. Portsmouth. Friendly toast. Eat. Matt #2. Drink. PBR. Moxie. Drive. Stop. Annisquam, Gloucester, MA. Smell. Cooler. Clean. Sleep. Dream. Wake. Unpack. Drive. GHS. Talk. Principal. Email. Blogs. Type.
slan,
j.c.
slan,
j.c.
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