Showing posts with label quotations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label quotations. Show all posts

Thursday, June 7, 2007

ten + 1



A few furtive thoughts about the ten + 1 poetics quotes from yesterday:

1. The challenge of the task wasn't limiting myself to only a slight excess of the proposed limit. It was finding statements succinct enough to stand on their own.

2. I tried not to shape the list too much, really only deciding between two contenders when they expressed nearly identical ideas. Nevertheless, most of the quotes deal with three not unrelated themes: poetry as a study of language; attention to language as a transformation of language and a re-thinking of the relationship between language and world; the re-thinking of the world as an involvement in the transformation of social organization. No surprises, I suppose...

3. I probably wouldn't have expected John Taggart to end up on the list. It's not that I don't like his work, but that I've not made an extensive study of his poetics. I'd happened to read the text in question, and it came to mind as a way of thinking about a poem being rooted in sound, as emerging from something like nonsense or gibberish. A mouthing. And I envy his ability to use an incredibly repetitive musicality in his poetry.

4. The Craig Dworkin quote also took a convoluted route to end up on the final list. I'd recently re-read a number of Kenneth Goldsmith's essays, and went back through one or two, hoping to find something useful. It was this quote that stood out, though I'd mis-remembered its sentiment as Goldsmith's. I was even tempted for a moment to include just enough of Goldsmith's signal phrase introducing the quote to call it his, but thought that wouldn't be fair to Dworkin. I think Goldsmith might have liked it, though...



Wednesday, June 6, 2007

Quotes on poetics



Some bloggers have been tagging other bloggers and asking them to quote ten statements of poetics; some of the other bloggers have done so, listing the influences and ideas that inform them, and some have not. Some bloggers have not been tagged at all, but have decided to participate nonetheless.

Here's my list — ten poets, plus Shklovsky. I'll resist the temptation — for today, at least — to provide commentary or explanation, or to elucidate in which ways, exactly, these have shaped my writing and thinking.


Art exists that one may recover the sensation of life; it exists to make one feel things, to make the stone stony. The purpose of art is to impart the sensation of things as they are perceived and not as they are known. The technique of art is to make objects “unfamiliar,” to make forms difficult, to increase the difficulty and length of perception because the process of perception is an aesthetic end in itself and must be prolonged.... [T]he ultimate purpose of the work of art is ... the renewal of perception, the seeing of the world suddenly in a new light, in a new unforeseen way.

— Victor Shklovsky
"Art as Technique"


— - — - —



To begin with, I don't think that the messages are for the poet any more than the radio program is for the radio set. And I think that the radio set doesn't really worry about whether anyone's listening to it or not, and neither does the poet. The poem may have some Nielsen ratings of its own. It carries on in the middle distance somewhere.

—Jack Spicer
"Vancouver Lecture I"


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[A] case can be made out for the poet giving some of his life to the use of the words the and a: both of which are weighted with as much epos and historical destiny as one man can perhaps resolve. Those who do not believe in this are too sure that the little words mean nothing among so many other words.

— Louis Zukofsky
"Poetry / For My Son
When He Can Read"


— - — - —



dont you know that "No" is the wildest word we consign to Language?

— Emily Dickinson
Letter 562, c. 1878
to Otis P. Lord


— - — - —



Due to N. O. Brown's remark that syntax is the arrangement of the army, and Thoreau's that when he heard a sentence he heard feet marching, I became devoted to nonsyntactical "demilitarized" language.

— John Cage
Empty Words


— - — - —



I am a grammarian I do not hesitate but I rearrange prepositions.

— Gertrude Stein
How to Write


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The "open text," by definition, is open to the world and particularly to the reader. It invites participation, rejects the authority of the writer over the reader and thus, by analogy, the authority implicit in other (social, economic, cultural) hierarchies. It speaks for writing that is generative rather than directive.

— Lyn Hejinian
"The Rejection of Closure"


— - — - —



[T]he poet is the Namer or Language-maker, naming things sometimes after their appearance, sometimes after their essence, and giving to every one its own name and not another's, thereby rejoicing the intellect, which delights in detachments or boundary. The poets made all the words, and therefore language is the archives of history.

— Ralph Waldo Emerson
"The Poet"


— - — - —



Say the rhythm before you play it. It may not be necessary to express this in nonsense syllables. Perhaps there could be such syllables which coalesce into words as the poem moves along.

— John Taggart
"Were You: Notes & a Poem
for Michael Palmer"


— - — - —



What would a non-expressive poetry look like? A poetry of intellect rather than emotion? One in which the substitutions at the heart of metaphor and image were replaced by the direct presentation of language itself, with ‘spontaneous overflow’ supplanted by meticulous procedure and exhaustively logical process? In which the self-regard of the poet’s ego were turned back onto the self-reflexive language of the poem itself? So that the test of poetry were no longer whether it could have been done better (the question of the workshop), but whether it could conceivably have been done otherwise.



— - — - —



[W]riting which seems to be "about" meaning also takes as its goal the challenging of existing frames and the widening of this social realm of possibility. It involves testing the horizon, setting up a probe, by violating codes so that each unit keeps getting reframed — or keeps reframing what's going on before it and what might come next as you challenge these wider and wider concentric circles of normalization, or of a functional fit, almost a machinelike fit that exists within the social dimension of language. So this larger operation of the entire body of language — the internal relations of this totality — can begin to be recast.... The methods by which meaning arrives in a prefabricated way are challenged and, at the same time, so are the limitsof the socal order.

— Bruce Andrews
"Total Equals What"






Sunday, May 13, 2007

The mouth, that "channel of vocal utterance"




Mouth, from the Century Dictionary and Cyclopedia (1889-1991)



— - — - — - —

[An excerpt from Vocal Sounds by Edward Search (1773):]

If on pronouncing u psilon you change to "au" you will find your under jaw drop, and your lips expand in a nearly circular form; if from thence to "o," you will find the corners of your lips draw in so as to turn into an oval; if to "u," you will find the orifice still more contracted, and the lips a little thrust forwards, the tongue in all these three operations lying close at the bottom of the mouth; if from thence you pass to "a," the lips at the corners will widen so as to form the long diameter of an ellipsis, the jaw remaining as before, and the tongue rising and spreading a very little; the transition thence to "e," is effected only by raising the hinder part of the tongue in the manner you did for an "h," and that to "i," by throwing the tongue into a convex, corresponding with the hollow roof of the mouth.



Tuesday, May 8, 2007

Appendix (the letter L)



L, as in:
salt. battle. sold. saddle. coolness. channel. lily. loose. shield. feel. real. reel. ideal. deal. vial. vile. would. alms. salmon. half. talk. folk. trouble. handled. struggling. awfully. pool. fiddle. like. canal. fall. full. tell. bell. foul. fool. prowl. growl. foal.

— - — - — - —


[From An American Dictionary of the English Language, by Noah Webster (1828):]


L, the twelfth letter of the English Alphabet, is usually denominated a semi-vowel, or a liquid. It represents an imperfect articulation, formed by placing the tip of the tongue against the gum that incloses the roots of the upper teeth; but the sides of the tongue not being in close contact with the roof of the mouth, the breath of course not being entirely intercepted, this articulation is attended with an imperfect sound…

— - — - — - —


[From "The Poetical Alphabet" by Benjamin Paul Blood (1879):]


L is the chilling and polishing letter…. L, by itself, makes all clear, lucid, placid, liquid; it is the polish of glow, gleam, glide, glassy, glance, glitter, etc. The l lends the cold, metallic quality to the solidity of lead; it gives lustre and ring to silver, as the r roughens and darkens iron.

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[From "A Checklist: The Alphabet of the Mind," by Velimir Khlebnikov (1916). Note that Paul Schmidt's translation of this material, necessarily relies on transliteration from the Cyrillic alphabet of the author's original Russian.]


Л [L] is the conversion of motion from motion along a line to motion over an area transverse to it that intersects the path of the motion. L = the square root of -1. Lob [forehead], laty [armor], lyzhi [skis], lodka [boat], let [flight], luzha [pond] (the motion of weight), lava [cavalry charge], i.e., a laterally extended formation.

— - — - — - —


[From Khlebnikov's "Let us consider two words" (1912):]


L indicates that the distance between the comprehending mind and the object comprehended has decreased: the object leans toward or clings to [l'net] the individual.

L is the motion of a point that derives from its own force.

The active voice, where the actor embraces [l'net] the action is based on the letter l of let [lift, flight]…

So les [forest], which reaches for the sky and arbitrarily increases its distance from everything immobile, from the perceiving consciousness, independently of that consciousness, begins with the letter l…. So we can establish l as a marker for self-instigated motion toward an immobile point.

The letter l everywhere begins words describing self-initiating actions that cut through what surrounds them.

L refers to those motions where the cause of motion is a moving point.

L is the reduction of distance as an action caused by the force of a motionless body.

— - — - — - —


[From "The Warrior of the Kingdom," also by Khlebnikov:]


Л [L]—the uncontrolled movement of a great force of freedom (time past).






[A set of addenda to yesterday's post, designed to give a sense of the range of approaches to language's carnality, and to the symbolism that can be applied to a single sound.]