Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Words that make you think....from East Coker (T.S. Eliot)

Y You say I am repeating
Something I have said before I shall say it again.
Shall I say it again? In order to arrive there,
To arrive where you are, to get from where you are not,
You must go by a way wherein there is no ecstasy.
In order to arrive at what you do not know
You must go by a way which is the way of ignorance.
In order to possess what you do not possess
You must go by the way of dispossession.
In order to arrive at what you are not
You must go through the way in which you are not.
And what you do not know is the only thing you know
And what you own is what you do not own
And where you are is where you are not.

Friday, April 15, 2005

Chord of Harmony

Not heard
Until the quiet place is touched,
Sometimes suddenly and unexpectedly,
In the middle of a moment
As when a familiar chord is struck.

Slowly, steadily,
Gently but firmly,
Yet deeply known,
Letting the rhythm live,
That tells us we are not alone.

And which moves us in complete harmony,
Within and without,
Lifted and carried along,
Swept into delight of motion, or of rest,
Where silence and stillness may become,
Song the heart resonates with best.

maggie 2000

As we come to the end of this year of thought, discussion and discovery of poetry, I would like to say that I will take away many memories of poetry read in our tutorials and which I enjoyed so much listening to. Those two hours every week were like being on a mini vacation as far as the refreshment they gave, and the time to just be in a place that could be absorbed with no pressure. I have never had the pleasure of listening to anyone read poetry as I have heard it read by Prof. Kuin. It is a gift to have this sense of the rhythm and meaning in poetry, so that the voice lifts the words from the page and makes them live. Thank you for all those Monday mornings spent in this enjoyment.

I wish everyone in the class the very best in your future studies, and I also wish you moments of harmonic songs that resonate in the heart. God Bless.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

So What?

I have been rummaging about in the 'modern' poetry. Although written in great detail sometimes, it feels like more of the same, and most of this leaves little lasting effect on my thoughts other than to think "so what"? I don't want poetry to continually point out all that is wrong with the world, but rather, some of the wonder of the world. I don't want to keep reading strings of flat words and uninteresting words, and words that drop names as though this is supposed to impress the reader that the poet is brilliant. Let poetry sing about other than the nitty gritty of life, and begin to lift us all into a place where imagination can be set loose once more.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

A Moment In Time

On Monday, March 28, 2005, the Introduction to Poetry 2110 class for 2004-2005 gathered in the darkened lecture hall to hear Professor Kuin read T.S. Eliot's, "The Four Quartets". For those who were not there, the moment, unknown and unnoticed, has gone.

For each person who was there, this reading was individually perceived, and yet, to my mind, there was an awesome sense alive in that room, of a group of people who would not leave in the same way they arrived. Forty minutes in a lifetime that will be remembered as rich, rewarding, and powerfully delivered does not seem like a lot, but the intensity of emotion and feeling for this piece of outstanding literature came through as Professor Kuin's rich voice breathed life into it. Breathing into the words, created far more than mere observation of words on pages could ever do.

The words: "Footfalls echo in the memory down the passage which we did not take towards the door we never opened into the rose-garden. My words echo thus, in your mind. But to what purpose disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves I do not know. " say much to both those present and those absent. The purpose unknown by us, may become known, and it is in the essense of this thought that there is some kernel of great possibility waiting to be discovered.

It was a wonderful way to end this year in this class, but more than ending this year, it was just one of those times in life when it felt good to be alive. Until I heard this group of poems, I had not known what a mark Eliot left on the world when he wrote this. I have, since hearing this, come to the conclusion that this, must be one of the most powerful pieces of literature of the century, and something I hope to read and re-read many times. I wonder if T.S. Eliot, in his lifetime truly knew this was that powerful.

Monday, April 11, 2005

Two Finds

In looking through an old Copp Clark textbook used in Ontario Schools (pub. 1941), I found the following poems. Kathleen Davidson was born in 1920, but otherwise, it reported in this book that there was no biographical information on her. I did a search but came up empty-handed. Clara Bernhardt was born in 1911. They are both Canadian poets, but this is all I could find, as listed in this old book.

In After Years
Someday, in after years, when time has fled
And vibrant lips are withered, pale and old,
I shall remember many things you said,
And how the sun could touch your hair with gold.

Oh, I shall think of all the things I loved,
With quiet peace, the flower of youth's swift pain;
Of slender hopes and dreams, whose shadows moved
Across my sky, then died like falling rain.

Strange things I shall remember then: cool sand,
Old houses, embers flowing, and a sigh,
A frenzied wind, the comfort of a hand,
Still waters, surging music, a soft cry.

And I shall smile, remembering a word
You did not say, my dear, but which I heard.

Clara Bernhardt

Two Prayers
Two men went forth at eventide,
Over the purpling drift of the downs,
Beyond gold rings of lantern light,
And the rusty singing of coarse-souled towns.

And one was a tall and splendid youth,
His dark eyes starred with a keen desire,
And all the wisdom of nineteen years
Frowned in his brow and his eyes' fire.

The other was gnarled and twisted and old,
His brown face leathered with wind and dew,
But his eyes were lamps full of welcome light
As though he had met a friend he knew.

Both went to pray 'neath the great, green boughs,
The youth knelt pleading with cries and tears,
He spoke to God in a frenzy of fire,
Telling his needs, and desires, and fears.

The old man stood 'neath the whispering trees,
Silent, above the star-deep sod,
With parted lips and glowing face,
Listening to God.

Kathleen Davidson

Mum's Favourite

The following poem is simple, and contains simple wisdom. It was my mother's favourite, and one that she learned while at school. As a child, she would begin to recite this poem whenever she saw any of us getting in a flap about whatever kids get into flaps about. It has been written onto my mind, and often I begin to think about the lines in this poem when there are just too many things coming at me.


Leisure
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

W. H. Davies 1871-1940
Born in southern Wales. Stowed away to America where he took to the road as a tramp, travelling through North America as well as other lands during the next thirty years. He wrote Autobiography of a Super-Tramp.

More Lovely Grows The Earth

More lovely grows the earth as we grow old,
More tenderness is in the dawning spring,
More bronze upon the blackbird's burnished wing;
And richer is the autumn cloth-of-gold;
A deeper meaning, too, the years unfold,
Until to waiting hearts each living thing
For very love its bounty seems to bring,
Intreating us with beauty to behold.

Or is is that with years we grow more wise
And reverent to the mystery profound--
Withheld from careless or indifferent eyes--
That broods in simple things the world around,
More conscious of the Love that glorifies
The common ways and makes them holy ground?

Helene Coleman 1906

Helena Coleman: A Canadian, born at Newcastle, Ontario.

from Poems Worth Knowing 1941

Modernism and Poetry

This will be my last post on "Modernism", even though I have not discussed anything about the death of God (part of Modernism). I have posted these particular writings because I think it is very important for people to choose wisely how they give explanation of this word, "Modernism". I believe, just as there was some pressing need for humanity to come to grips with the enormity of the destruction of life and property during both World War I and World War II of which humankind was discovered to be capable of, there is also some pressing need today to recognize the emptiness and hollowness of a culture based on consumerism, greed, instant gratification, and the rapidity of the changing masses' belief in popular culture as that which one needs to be in the know about in order to be considered in the know. There is some fearful (to me) wave that sweeps through and declares itself as the 'majority' that this is "in" and that is "out", and if the thing that is considered "out" is mentioned, it's improper to do this. Do not let us become the people watching the naked emperor and declaring "it is good" because it makes us feel part of the group. We all need to be thinking human beings, and people who ask questions.

The following are examples of what was being espoused in the early 1900s as "Modernism":
Joseph T. Shipley's Dictionary of World Literary Terms, as well as other specialized dictionaries or literary encyclopaedia, list the word "Modernism", but appear to be uninterested in the question of when and how "modernism" became a specifically literary or artistic notion. The use of "modernism" in the language of criticism is quite recent, and nothing is more difficult to deal with than recent history. It seems safe to assume that in the English-speaking countries, the terms "modernism" acquired a distinctive literary significance during the first two decades of the 20th-century.

In 1919, The Modernist: A Monthly Magazine of Modern Arts and Letters, was published for a short time. The first issue listed among the contributors such as George Bernard Shaw, Theodore Dreiser, Hart Crane, Georges Duhamel. None of these contributors offered the magazine anything previously unpublished. In the first issue of the magazine, the foreword made it clear that The Modernist was more concerned with politics than with literature or the arts. Following World War I, the magazine was committed to the cause of progress, revolutionary change, and socialism. The editor, James Waldo Fawcett wrote: "every tradition, every inherited standard has been tested; many laws have been destroyed, many pretences have been abandoned…In the sky of Russia a new star has appeared, a star progressing westward, watched now by the poor and downtrodden of ever land with shining, eager eyes…The very atmosphere is electric with impending revolution, revision and reconstruction in all the affairs of life. The past is dead. Only the present is reality. We dream of the future, but we may not see it yet as it will truly be."

In The Fugitive: A Journal of Poetry, Vol. III, No 1, February, 1924, John Crowe Ransom, a person who created the label of "New Criticism" and became one of the major representatives of this movement, did not attempt to define modernism, but some of the points he made show how modernism was viewed in the early 1920s. Ransom writes: "The arts generally have had to recognize Modernism - how should poetry escape? And yet what is Modernism? It is undefined…In poetry the Imagists, in our time and place, made a valiant effort to formulate their program. Their modernist manifestos were exciting, their practice was crude…They announced at least two notable principles. In the first place, they declared for honest of theme and accuracy of expression…They conceived the first duty of the Moderns as being to disembarrass poetry of its terrible incubus of piety, in the full classical sense of that term, and they rendered the service. The second principle followed. Emphasizing the newness of the matter,…they were obliged to make their meters more elastic to accommodate their novelties…Their free verse was no form at all, yet it made history.

As John Crowe Ransom pointed out, against the formlessness involved by the second of these principles, there came a "sweeping reaction". The problem was to take account of the dual role of words in poetry, and "to conclude a logical sequence with their meanings on the one hand, and to realize an objective pattern with the sounds on the other". Ransom was conscious of the fact that the difficulties posed by such a strict poetics were insurmountable and were bound to lead to a situation of crisis. Although the word "crisis" does not occur in his article, this notion is clearly implied, and it is probably more important for the understanding of Ransom's concept of modernism than the actual terms in which he formulates the modern poet's predicament: "But we moderns are impatient and destructive. We forget entirely the enormous technical difficulty of the poetic art, and we examine the meaning of poems with a more and more microscopic analysis: we examine them in fact just as strictly as we examine the meanings of a prose which was composed without any handicap of metrical restrictions; and we do not obtain so readily as our fathers the ecstasy which is the total effect of poetry, the sense of miracle before the union of inner meaning and objective form. Our souls are not, in fact, in the enjoyment of full good health. For no art and no religion is possible until we make allowances…Modern poets are their own severest critics; their own documents, on second reading, have been known to induce in poets a fatal paralysis of the writing digit…The future of poetry is immense? One is not so sure in these days, since it has felt the fatal irritant of Modernism. Too much is demanded by the critic, attempted by the poet…The intelligent poet of today is very painfully perched in a position which he cannot indefinitely occupy: vulgarly, he is straddling the fence, and cannot with safety land on either side."

In 1927 Laura Riding and Robert Graves published Survey of Modernist Poetry. They defined "modernist" poetry (as distinct from "modern" poetry in the neutral chronological sense) by its wilful deviation from accepted poetic tradition, by the attempt to "free the poem of many of the traditional habits which prevented it from achieving its full significance". Seen from this point of view, the most outstanding feature of "modernist" poetry is the difficulty it presents to the average reader. Their survey is to a large extent an attempt to explain the "unpopularity of modernist poetry with the plain reader" and to point out the specifically aesthetic reasons for "the divorce of advanced contemporary poetry from the common-sense standards of ordinary intelligence."

Concerning the term "modernism" itself, Riding and Graves seem to take it for granted and as a result do not try to offer an even remotely systematic definition. The main elements for such a definition are there, however, and the reader can bring them together and work out a fairly consistent concept of modernism. The basic opposition between traditional poetry/modernist poetry is stated from the outset. Modernist poetry is also characterized as advanced ("the sophistications of advanced modern poetry", "advanced contemporary poetry"). Modernist poets like e.e. cummings, we are told, are supported by "the pressure of more advanced critical opinion". In one chapter of the book called "Modernist Poetry and Civilization" they bring forth new and helpful terminological clarifications. The authors distinguish between "genuine modernism" and the "vulgar meaning of modernism…which is modern-ness, a keeping-up in poetry with the pace of civilization and intellectual history". In a "perverted sense", modernism can become a sort of anti-traditional "tyranny, increasing contemporary mannerisms in poetry". The sense of modernism can be further perverted, the authors go on to say, by the existence of the middle class - representing "the intelligent plain-man point of view". This middle population…is the prop and advocate of civilization; and the idea of civilization as a steady human progress does not exclude the idea of a modernist, historically forward poetry. A possible rapprochement exists, therefore, between the middle population, to whom poetry is just one of the many instruments of progress, and that type of contemporary poetical writing which advertises itself by its historical progressiveness.

But surely this is false modernism. True modernism is not historically but only aesthetically forward. False modernism, then, is reducible to "faith in history", while genuine modernism is nothing more than "faith in the immediate, the new doings of poems (or poets or poetry) as not necessarily derived from history". But why call such a poetry "modernist"? Riding and Graves fail to give a satisfactory answer to this important question. The fact that the representatives of "new poetry" are called (and call themselves) modernists is more than just a matter of arbitrary preference. Is not the cult of novelty a specific product of the history of modernity? Is not the "purist" creed of some outstanding modernists an attitude toward history and specifically toward modernity? Is not modernism's anti-traditionalism an aesthetic manifestation of the characteristically modern urge for change (an urge that has been historically served by the myth of progress but that can exist outside and sometimes even in direct opposition to that myth)?

The argument of modernism's neutrality with regard to history is unconvincing, as is the opinion of Riding and Graves that the term "modernism" as applied to the innovative trends in the poetry of the 1920s is justified by little more than a subjective preference: "There is indeed, a genuine modernism which is not a part of a 'modernist' programme but a natural and personal manner and attitude in the poet to his work, and which accepts the denomination 'modernist' because it prefers it to other denominations"

At this time, it was too early for a more comprehensive critical synthesis or for a critical assessment of the concept of modernism, and yet opinions were already being formulated. The student of terminology should also consider another aspect of historical semantics that may explain why the development of an independent notion of "modernism" was rather slow in England and in the United States. This comparative slowness was partially due to the evolution of "modern" as both an adjective and a noun. When "modern" ceased to be a synonym for "contemporary", it became capable of performing the basic semantic functions of "modernism", unimpeded by the potentially pejorative or vulgar associations from which the latter term had freed itself only very recently. Thus, a large number of aesthetic theories, insights, and choices, which today we would not hesitate to describe as "modernist", went on being formulated within the broader framework of the idea of "the modern".

(Information for this blog was taken from Five Faces of Modernity: Modernism, Avant-Garde, Decadence, Kitsch, Postmodernism, by Matei Calinescu, Professor of Comparative Literature, English, and West European Studies at Indiana University.)

Sunday, April 10, 2005

Modernism and the idea of Time

During the last 150 years, the terms "modern", "modernity" and "modernism" have been used in artistic or literary contexts to put forth an increasingly sharp sense of historical relativism, which is a form of criticism of tradition. From the point of view of modernity, an artist is cut off from the past with fixed ideas, and tradition has no legitimate examples to offer him to imitate. His own awareness of the present appears as the main source of inspiration and creativity. This was a major cultural shift from a time-honoured aesthetic of permanence, based on a belief in an unchanging and transcendent ideal of beauty, to an aesthetic of the transitory and immanence, whose central values are change and novelty.

Modernity in the broadest sense, is reflected in the irreconcilable opposition between the set of values corresponding to a) the objectified socially measurable time of capitalist civilization (time as a commodity, bought and sold on the market) and b) the person, subjective, imaginative private time created by the unfolding of the "self". This identity of time and self constitutes the foundation of modernist culture. For all its objectivity and rationality, modernity has lacked (after the demise of religion), any compelling moral or metaphysical justification. The time consciousness reflected in modernist culture that is produced by the isolated self, is a reaction against the dehumanized time of social activity.

Even during the late 17th and 18th-centuries, most of the 'moderns' continued to consider beauty as transcendental and eternal. They were still connected to the ancients, even if they believed they had gained a better, more rational understanding of its laws. Romanticism in the late 18th and early 19th centuries first defined its historical legitimacy as a reaction against the basic assumptions of classicism, however, and the concept of a universally intelligible and timeless beauty began to undergo a process of steady erosion. This process first became self-conscious in France. A French writer named Stendhal (1783-1842) had a notion of romanticism that carried not only a sense of commitment to an aesthetic programme, but also a sense of presentness and immediacy. Most of his predecessors, however, saw in romanticism nothing less than an artistic expression of the whole of Christianity as opposed to the world-view of pagan antiquity. [Stendhal wrote The Red and the Black - the red signifying the army and liberation, and the black signifying the reactionary clergy.]

With the breakup of tradition, aesthetic authority, time, change, and the self-consciousness of the present have tended increasingly to become sources of value in the "adversary culture" (Lionel Trilling) of modernism. Historically, Baudelaire, one of the first artists to oppose aesthetic modernity not only to tradition but also to the practical modernity of bourgeois civilization, illustrates the intriguing moment when the old notion of the universal beauty had shrunk enough to reach a delicate equilibrium with its modern counterconcept, the beauty of transitoriness. In Les Fleurs du Mal, he wrote: "Modernity is the transitory, the fugitive, the contingent, the half of art, of which the other half is the eternal and the immutable…" After Baudelaire, the ever-changing consciousness of modernity as a source of beauty succeeded in prevailing and finally in eliminating, the "other half" of art. Tradition was rejected with increasing violence and the artistic imagination started priding itself on exploring and mapping the realm of the "not yet." Modernity opened the path to the avant-gardes. At the same time, modernity turned against itself, and by regarding itself as 'decadence', dramatized its own deep sense of crisis.

The end result of both modernities seems to be 'relativism'. The clash between the two modernities, renewed with increasing intensity over the last 150 years or so, appears to have led to a near-exhaustion of both as intellectual myths. After the Second World War, and especially since the 1950s, the concept of a post-modern age has been advanced by a variety of thinkers and scholars.

(Information for this blog was taken from Five Faces of Modernity: Modernism, Avant-Garde, Decadence, Kitsch, Postmodernism, by Matei Calinescu, Professor of Comparative Literature, English, and West European Studies at Indiana University.)

Saturday, April 09, 2005

Two Camps of Modernity and the emerging push of the Middle Class

In a book, Five Faces of Modernitiy: Modernism, Avant-Garde, Decadence, Kitsch, Postmodernism, by Matei Calinescu, published by Duke University Press, Durham, NC in 1987, I have been doing some reading about the "modern", and "modernism", and "postmodernism". Calinescu is a Professor of Comparative Literature, English, and West European Studies at Indiana University. His books and articles include studies on modernism, postmodernism, and the relations between literature, religion, and politics.

He has written: At some point during the first half of the 19th-century, an irreversible split occurred between modernity as a stage in the history of Western civilization - a product of scientific and tehnological progress, of the industrial revolution, of the sweeping economic and social changes brought about by capitalism - and modernity as an aesthetic concept.

With regard to modernity as a stage in the history of Western civilization, the bourgeois idea of modernity, it has continued the outstanding traditions of earlier periods in the history of the modern idea:

*the doctrine of progress,

*the confidence in the beneficial possibilities of science and technology,

*the concern with time (a measurable time, a time that can be bought and sold and therefore has, like any other commodity, a calculable equivalent in money),

*the cult of reason,

*the ideal of freedom defined within the framework of an abstract humanism,

*the orientation toward pragmatism and the cult of action and success - all have been associated in various degrees with the battle for the modern and were kept alive and promoted as key values in the triumphant civilization established by the middle class.

By contrast, the other modernity, the one that was to bring into being the avant-gardes, was from its romantic beginnings inclined toward radical antibourgeois attitudes. It was disgusted with the middle-class scale of values and expressed its disgust through the most diverse means, ranging from rebellion, anarchy, and aristocratic self-exile. More than its positive aspirations, what defines cultural modernity is its outright rejection of bourgeois modernity, and its consuming negative passion.

The Oxford English Dictionary records the first occurrence of "modernity" (meaning "present times") in 1627. It also cites Horace Walpole, who in a letter of 1782 spoke of Chatterton's poems in terms of "the modernity of modulation", which "nobody can get over". Horace Walpole's use of "modernity" as an argument in the famous controversy about the Rowley Poems (1777) of Thomas Chatterton - a poet whose work and tragic myth were to become so popular with the next, fully romantic generation - implies a subtle sense of aesthetic modernity. "Modernity" appears to be close to both the idea of personal "fashion" ("the fashion of the poems was Chatterton's own") and to what Walpole terms "the recent cast of ideas and phraseology" but one should not confuse it with either. Its actual sense, in Walpole's view, was one of sound and "modulation", and we can best comprehend it musically. As for France, the corresponding term "modernité" was not used before the middle of the 19th-century.

"Chatterton's influence has been detected in Keats's Medieval poems The Eve of St. Agnes and The Eve of St. Mark. A closer parallel to Chatterton's recreation of fifteenth-century Bristol in the Rowley poems, however, may be Keats's depiction of ancient Greece in Endymion, a poem dedicated "to the Memory of Thomas Chatterton." For both poets, the attempt to revive a past world is in part a consequence of their social positions and has political implications.
In the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, both historiography and the study or interpretation of classical literature were preserves of the elite, educated classes and therefore considered off-limits to young men trained as legal copyists and surgeon apothecaries like Chatterton and Keats. In presuming to participate in antiquarian research or "[touch] the beautiful mythology of Greece" Chatterton and Keats were presumptuously aspiring beyond their traditional class prerogatives, as is made clear by the criticism to which both were subjected by conservative critics. Chatterton and Keats were part of a growing number of middle-class people claiming a right to engage in activities once the exclusive preserves of gentlemen. The harsh condemnations they and others of their class received reflect the anxieties of those in authority who feared a breakdown in traditional social hierarchies." (above paragraph taken from: Protest, "Nativism" and Impersonation in the Works of Chatterton and Keats Journal article by Beth Lau; Studies in Romanticism, Vol. 42, 2003)

The history of the alienation of the modern writer started with the romantic movement. In an early phase, the object of hatred and ridicule was 'philistinism', a typical form of middle-class hypocrisy. The best example is pre-romantic and romantic Germany, where the critique of philistine mentality (with its pretensions, and false, totally inadequate praise of intellectual values to disguise an obsessive preoccupation with material ones) played an essential role in the overall picture of cultural life. While the term "philistine", acquired a definite social meaning, first in Germany, it then spread into all Western cultures. The philistine is defined mainly by his class background, all his intellectual attitudes being nothing but disguises of practical interests and social concerns.

The idea of art's autonomy was not a novelty in the 1830s, when the battlecry of Art for Art's Sake became popular in France among circles of young Behemian poets and painters. The view of art as an autonomous activity had been defended half a century earlier by Kant, who in his Critique of Judgment (1790), had formulated his paradoxical concept of art's "purposiveness without a purpose" and thus affirmed art's fundamental disinterestedness. But l'art pour l'art as it was conceived by Théophile Gautier and his followers was not so much a full-fledged aesthetic theory as a rallying cry for artists who had become weary of empty romantic humanitarianism and felt the need to express their hatred of bourgeois mercantilism and vulgar utilitarianism. In contrast to the view defended by Kant and his disciples in Germany, the partisans of l'art pour l'art promote a primary concept of beauty, derived not so much from an ideal of disinterestedness as from an aggressive assertion of art's total gratuitousness. This concept of beauty is perfectly summed up by the famous formula - épater le bourgeois. Art for Art's Sake was the first product of aesthetic modernity's rebellion against the modernity of the philistine.