• T Clark
    14k
    Eliot provided his own notes,Cuthbert

    Yes, the version I have has the notes, although I haven't read them. I will. Thanks.
  • T Clark
    14k
    First the last sentence: my post is more about how I read the poem than about the what the poem did. I've experienced time and again that the same words can be read differently.Dawnstorm

    I intended my comment to be complimentary, even if my characterization of your post was inaccurate. I found it very helpful.
  • Moliere
    4.8k


    That was a pleasure to listen to -- there are parts of the poem that I couldn't quite sound out right, and Alec Guinness is great, of course :)

    His choices throughout really add a depth I didn't get through a first read. I think I was mostly drifting along the level of images and the emotions which various sounds would invoke.

    In particular I loved his rendition of the bar room conversation -- I could read the words and knew what it was, but Alec breathed the life into it that I was having a hard time doing. His reading really did sound like a bar room conversation!
  • Moliere
    4.8k
    Heh. I'm having a ball. So you're welcome, and I'm having a good time too. I wasn't even sure if this would generate any conversation, it seeming such a queer line of thinking. So I'm glad that there's been a sounding board for my ideas and being able to comb through other thoughts rather than just thinking on my own.


    ***

    Something I am wondering about, from your article and others across the interwebs, is the moral dimension of poetry being emphasized. I think I can get along with a spiritual dimension to poetry -- the experience itself seems ethereal, given to sensitivities and feelings that are often hard to describe. That's an understandable word to me, at least.

    But I wonder about poetry's supposed moral educational propensities. It seems to beg the question, on its face -- those with a poetic feeling will say there's a moral to be learned from poetry, and those without it will say there's nothing there but sweet sounding words that need to be relegated to the topics of proper morals so as not to mislead people, and neither poets nor Socrates will see one another's viewpoint.

    And I would say -- if poetry could teach morals, then people would be a lot better than they are, given how long it's been about. So while I understand that the feelings evoked by poetry are semi-mystical... I can't say that I'd equate it with moral.
  • Dawnstorm
    249
    I intended my comment to be complimentary, even if my characterization of your post was inaccurate. I found it very helpful.T Clark

    Thanks. To be honest, I'm not sure if you're characterisation of my post was inaccurate; what I think I write isn't always what ends up on the page, even before possible interpretations of others are taken in account. If you could see me produce the posts in realtime, you'd see me type, backspace, retype, delete a paragraph, delete everything, try again, go away, come back later, and try again. I confuse myself writing my own posts, and I often write myself not into a corner but into a wide open space with no direction clearly being forward (corners are comfy, actually, by comparison.) I didn't mean to correct you so much as find my bearings.

    I find the question interesting, actually. I feel like formal aspects of poems are a type of meaning, too (the main anchor of nonsense verse like the first stanza of Jabberwocky, for example). There's a back and forth, and in poetry, where the importance of those formal aspects is institutionally raised, the word meaning and sound meaning give rise to each other in a chicken-egg relationship, only more chaotic.

    Also, I think of language as something meaningful along a lot of other meaningful things, and meaning is how consciousness connects to the world. We engage differently with a text if we think it's a shopping list than if we think it's a poem. (I've heard of a teacher providing a shopping list as an example of a poem, encouraging analysis. It's not something I've come up with. I wish I still had the reference, but it's just something I heard in a course a long time ago.)
  • Cuthbert
    1.1k
    I've heard of a teacher providing a shopping list as an example of a poem, encouraging analysis.Dawnstorm

    Have you seen the meme - Shakespeare Quote of the Day: "An SSL error has occurred and a secure connection to the server cannot be made."
  • T Clark
    14k
    I find the question interesting, actually. I feel like formal aspects of poems are a type of meaning, too (the main anchor of nonsense verse like the first stanza of Jabberwocky, for example). There's a back and forth, and in poetry, where the importance of those formal aspects is institutionally raised, the word meaning and sound meaning give rise to each other in a chicken-egg relationship, only more chaotic.Dawnstorm

    I like to nail things down before I make a foray out into the playground of philosophical discussion. I've been noticing recently that sometimes makes me rigid in my need to characterize and make distinctions and unwilling to make changes. In the case of your posts, I think I'm trying to force you to classify things the same way I do, which is not reasonable. There's not need for you to try to put your ideas in the boxes I've set out, especially given your greater experience.

    We engage differently with a text if we think it's a shopping list than if we think it's a poem. (I've heard of a teacher providing a shopping list as an example of a poem, encouraging analysis. It's not something I've come up with. I wish I still had the reference, but it's just something I heard in a course a long time ago.)Dawnstorm

    Forgive a bit of self-indulgence, but here is my shopping list poem:

    Sixteen Fortune Cookies

    You have wasted your life.
    Brush your teeth three times a day.
    I am not Chinese.
    You are going to die.
    You are a fool.
    Jump. Now.
    Never buy Chinese food from a restaurant where the waiters are not Chinese.
    Know yourself.
    You will make love to an overweight, 67-year-old civil engineer.
    You will never be happy.
    Drink eight glasses of water every day.
    I am closer to enlightenment than you are.
    Listen to your heart.
    Pay me back the money you owe me.
    I love you very much.
    Don’t eat the cookie.
  • Amity
    5.4k
    That was a pleasure to listen to...Moliere

    I didn't manage a close listen to all of it but look forward to doing that when I have more time.
    Thanks, again, to @Tom Storm for the find on YouTube.
  • Amity
    5.4k
    Something I am wondering about, from your article and others across the interwebs, is the moral dimension of poetry being emphasized.Moliere

    Grateful if you could point me to the article in question and any others you found where the moral dimension is emphasised. My memory isn't as good as it was and I've posted so much on here.

    But I wonder about poetry's supposed moral educational propensitiesMoliere

    As do I. There's a lot more to poetry than meets the eye. I can't remember if we discussed the function of poetry but a quick search throws up this:
    https://englishliterature.net/notes/s-t-coleridge-function-of-poetry

    I'm taking some time out now to pursue other interests/projects/distractions!
    However, will still follow this most intriguing discussion. Thanks for starting and maintaining it so well. :sparkle:
  • mcdoodle
    1.1k
    On the flip side of a shopping list. This is by Billy Collins.

    Last night we ended up on the couch
    trying to remember
    all of the friends who had died so far,

    and this morning I wrote them down
    in alphabetical order
    on the flip side of a shopping list
    you had left on the kitchen table.

    So many of them had been swept away
    as if by a hand from the sky,
    it was good to recall them,
    I was thinking
    under the cold lights of a supermarket
    as I guided a cart with a wobbly wheel
    up and down the long strident aisles.

    I was on the lookout for blueberries,
    English muffins, linguini, heavy cream,
    light bulbs, apples, Canadian bacon,
    and whatever else was on the list,
    which I managed to keep grocery side up,

    until I had passed through the electric doors,
    where I stopped to realize,
    as I turned the list over,
    that I had forgotten Terry O’Shea
    as well as the bananas and the bread.

    It was pouring by then,
    spilling, as they say in Ireland,
    people splashing across the lot to their cars.
    And that is when I set out,
    walking slowly and precisely,
    a soaking-wet man
    bearing bags of groceries,
    walking as if in a procession honoring the dead.

    I felt I owed this to Terry,
    who was such a strong painter,
    for almost forgetting him
    and to all the others who had formed
    a circle around him on the screen in my head.

    I was walking more slowly now
    in the presence of the compassion
    the dead were extending to a comrade,

    plus I was in no hurry to return
    to the kitchen, where I would have to tell you
    all about Terry and the bananas and the bread.
  • mcdoodle
    1.1k
    Regarding the notes to the Waste Land: some of them are deliberately obscure and unhelpful. My long acquaintance with the poem makes me feel your original approach, to go with the flow of the poem and work out complexities later, is the one that most repays you in the end. Personally, it's ended up being a poem that pops up often in my life, along with the 'Four Quartets'. In my end is my beginning.

    I don't know if the recent tv programme about the poem to mark its 100th anniversary is available beyond the United Kingdom. Here it's on the BBC iplayer here: https://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/m001d1yy/ts-eliot-into-the-waste-land

    It focuses rather heavily on the biographical elements of the poem that have been recently (2 years ago) amplified by the publication of Eliot's letters to Emily Hale, but is still an excellent outline of possible interpretations.
  • Moliere
    4.8k
    (I've heard of a teacher providing a shopping list as an example of a poem, encouraging analysis. It's not something I've come up with. I wish I still had the reference, but it's just something I heard in a course a long time ago.)Dawnstorm

    Well, today I need to do a bit of shopping.

    Bagels
    Cream Cheese
    cleaning rags


    I may add more later. But what makes this not a poem, may be an interesting question too?

    The curiosity being if we treated it like a poem then it'd be hard to really mark a distinction between it and poetry. They certainly look similar, even though we think of them as not.

    I think there may be a fear here in that we don't want to limit poetry, too. I believe it likely that people have already published shopping lists on more than one occasion to claim it as poetry. So it may be of no interest to delimit poetry, on that basis. Just worth noting that it didn't occur to me as a reader, or to note that I'm not sure what I'm getting out of treating a shopping list like a poem or why I'd want to other than the play with the notion of poem -- which just seems a bit unsatisfying to my mind.
  • Moliere
    4.8k
    Oof. That's a sad one to read, but good. I connected to the last stanzas the most --

    I was walking more slowly now
    in the presence of the compassion
    the dead were extending to a comrade,

    plus I was in no hurry to return
    to the kitchen, where I would have to tell you
    all about Terry and the bananas and the bread.
    mcdoodle

    I can feel myself slowing down before going home as I read it, from everything before.
  • T Clark
    14k
    On the flip side of a shopping list. This is by Billy Collins.mcdoodle

    First thought - a different poem if it ended at:

    until I had passed through the electric doors,
    where I stopped to realize,
    as I turned the list over,
    that I had forgotten Terry O’Shea
    as well as the bananas and the bread.


    I'll think about it and have more to say.
  • T Clark
    14k
    Bagels
    Cream Cheese
    cleaning rags
    Moliere

    Sesame bagels
    Cream cheese with chives and onions
    Cleaning rags and soap


    See, now it's a haiku.
  • Moliere
    4.8k
    heh, fair enough. It may just be the wrong question, really. It's not that things cannot be poems, but rather, if it isn't one it's a sort of challenge for the poet to turn it into one. So there's no point in delimiting the category, given it's a creative category and will expand as poets continue.
  • T Clark
    14k
    heh, fair enough. It may just be the wrong question, really. It's not that things cannot be poems, but rather, if it isn't one it's a sort of challenge for the poet to turn it into one. So there's no point in delimiting the category, given it's a creative category and will expand as poets continue.Moliere

    One of the things I like about the Billy Collins poem @mcdoodle posted is its everydayness. Low key, straightforward, not trying too hard, but with depth. I am attracted to poems like that. One of my favorite poets is Carl Dennis for that very reason. Example:

    As If

    Before dawn, while you're still sleeping,
    Playing the part of a dreamer whose house is an ark
    Tossed about by a flood that will never subside,
    Its dove doomed to return with no twig,
    Your neighbor's already up, pulling his boots on,
    Playing the part of a fisherman,
    Gathering gear and loading his truck
    And driving to the river and wading in
    As if fishing is all he's ever wanted.
    Three trout by the time you get up and wash
    And come to breakfast served by a woman who smiles
    As if you're first on her short list of wonders,
    And you greet her as if she's first on yours.
    Then you're off to school to fulfill your promise
    To lose yourself for once in your teaching
    And forget the clock facing your desk. Time to behave
    As if the sun's standing still in a painted sky
    And the day isn't a page in a one-page notebook
    To be filled by sundown or never filled,
    First the lines and then the margins,
    The words jammed in till no white shows.

    And while you're speaking as if everyone's listening,
    A mile from school, at the city hall,
    The mayor is behaving as if it matters
    That the blueprints drawn up for the low-rent housing
    Include the extra windows he's budgeted,
    That the architects don't transfer the funds
    To shutters and grates as they did last year
    But understand that brightness is no extravagance.
    And when lunch interrupts him, it's a business lunch
    To plan the autumn parade, as if the fate of the nation
    Hangs on keeping the floats of the poorer precincts
    From looking skimpy and threadbare.

    The strollers out on the street today
    Don't have to believe all men are created equal,
    All endowed by their creator with certain rights,
    As long as they behave as if they do,
    As if they believe the country will be better off
    If more people do likewise, that acting this way
    May help their fellow Americans better pursue
    The happiness your housemate believes she's pursuing
    Sharing her house with you, that the fisherman
    Wants to believe he's found in fishing.

    Now while you're thinking you can make her happy
    As long as she's willing to behave as if you can
    The fisherman keeps so still on his log
    As he munches a biscuit that the fish
    Rise to the surface to share his crumbs.
    And the heron stands on the sandbank silently staring
    As if it's wondering what the man is thinking,
    Its gray eyes glinting like tin or glass.
  • Dawnstorm
    249
    Forgive a bit of self-indulgence, but here is my shopping list poem:T Clark

    I tried to google "shopping list" and "poem" to maybe find some hint as to what I remember. Instead I found a whole host of shoppinglist-poems. Seems to be a popular topic.

    Have you seen the meme - Shakespeare Quote of the Day: "An SSL error has occurred and a secure connection to the server cannot be made."Cuthbert

    I haven't. Heh. It's perfect.

    Bagels
    Cream Cheese
    cleaning rags
    Moliere

    Definite rhythm: dam-da dam-da dam-da-dam

    Also: line 1 and 2 = food; line 3 =/= food.

    Also very nearly an alphabetic progression of the first letters of each line. Definitely so far no line starts with a letter that comes earlier in the alphabet.

    I think there may be a fear here in that we don't want to limit poetry, too.Moliere

    I think what this episode shows is that what institutionalises poetry might be part of every-day language, just not emphasised in either production or exception.

    Take for example Roman Jakobson's Functions of Language. Jakobson identifies 6 factors involved in language: Context, addresser, addressee, contact, code and message, and assigns functions to language according to those factors. "Meaning", as most people usually think of it, would probably fall under "reference" which is the function of context, "expression", which is the function of the addresser, and the "conative function", which is the function with respect to the addressee. The "poetic function" is concerned with the message itself (how it reads, sounds, what words are used - all the formal stuff).

    If you think of the poetic function of language as a subtype of "fun with pattern recognition" (alongside seeing bunnies in clouds and such), that might even have contributed to the creation of language in the first place. Shared social grunt-play. Would make sense to me.

    A scene from the anime Yuyushiki that may or may not demonstrate what I mean (depending on how much sense I make):

  • Tom Storm
    9.2k
    From one of Australia's great poets Les Murray

    "An Absolutely Ordinary Rainbow"

    The word goes round Repins,
    the murmur goes round Lorenzinis,
    at Tattersalls, men look up from sheets of numbers,
    the Stock Exchange scribblers forget the chalk in their hands
    and men with bread in their pockets leave the Greek Club:
    There's a fellow crying in Martin Place. They can't stop him.

    The traffic in George Street is banked up for half a mile
    and drained of motion. The crowds are edgy with talk
    and more crowds come hurrying. Many run in the back streets
    which minutes ago were busy main streets, pointing:
    There's a fellow weeping down there. No one can stop him.

    The man we surround, the man no one approaches
    simply weeps, and does not cover it, weeps
    not like a child, not like the wind, like a man
    and does not declaim it, nor beat his breast, nor even
    sob very loudly - yet the dignity of his weeping

    holds us back from his space, the hollow he makes about him
    in the midday light, in his pentagram of sorrow,
    and uniforms back in the crowd who tried to seize him
    stare out at him, and feel, with amazement, their minds
    longing for tears as children for a rainbow.

    Some will say, in the years to come, a halo
    or force stood around him. There is no such thing.
    Some will say they were shocked and would have stopped him
    but they will not have been there. The fiercest manhood,
    the toughest reserve, the slickest wit amongst us

    trembles with silence, and burns with unexpected
    judgements of peace. Some in the concourse scream
    who thought themselves happy. Only the smallest children
    and such as look out of Paradise come near him
    and sit at his feet, with dogs and dusty pigeons.

    Ridiculous, says a man near me, and stops
    his mouth with his hands, as if it uttered vomit -
    and I see a woman, shining, stretch her hand
    and shake as she receives the gift of weeping;
    as many as follow her also receive it

    and many weep for sheer acceptance, and more
    refuse to weep for fear of all acceptance,
    but the weeping man, like the earth, requires nothing,
    the man who weeps ignores us, and cries out
    of his writhen face and ordinary body

    not words, but grief, not messages, but sorrow,
    hard as the earth, sheer, present as the sea -
    and when he stops, he simply walks between us
    mopping his face with the dignity of one
    man who has wept, and now has finished weeping.

    Evading believers, he hurries off down Pitt Street.

    Les Murray
  • Moliere
    4.8k
    Take for example Roman Jakobson's Functions of Language.Dawnstorm

    This was an excellent resource for me, so thank you. Just the sort of terms I'm looking for to think through my thoughts.

    I've already assigned myself other homework, but in the spirit of continuing bad habits I'll assign myself more. ;)

    But I have the desire to take some of the theories from that website and make it mesh with the question from earlier about counting phrases, but after I have your terms here down better:

    Basically morphemes make words make phrases make clauses, and after that you get into text analysis and leave the realm of syntax. A phrase can be composes of words and other phrases and even clauses. For example, one way to count phrases, could be the follwoing: "the red apple":

    1. Determiner Phrase: "the red apple"
    2. Noun phrase: "red apple"
    3. a) adjective phrase: "red"
    3. b) noun phrase: "apple".
    Dawnstorm

    Then, apply it to one of the shorter poems we have here.

    (in addition I'm still working through The Wasteland in order to provide an interpretation, but I don't have enough to share as of yet -- it's all impressionistic)
  • Dawnstorm
    249


    Just a short note: in that post about phrases I used the term "Determiner Phrase". I'd advise you to ignore it. It's a minority theory and might be more confusing. Also, even under the DP-theory, I forgot to account for the determiner on level 2. And finally, it's important that this is only one way of looking at things.

    I like immediate-constituancy-analysis, which this is supposed to be, but IC-analysis doesn't usually use determiner-phrase theory. All of this is probably beyond what people in this thread need, but... well, it's best to ignore the term "determiner phrase", as if you look up phrases you're not likely to encounter it (or at least not as used here).

    This is what IC-analysis looks like: within square brackets, there's a phrase: [the [[red] [apple]]] Note that I didn't put a square bracket around "the"; it's not clear to me at the moment whether I sould have.

    The next step would be naming the phrases:

    NP[the NP[AP[red]NP[apple]]]

    Whether you call the whole thing a NP or a DP phrase isn't all that important until you understand the theory thoroughly (which I'm not sure I do, actually), and it's probably best not to default to a minority position.

    (Note that Constituency grammars order phrases differently than, say, dependency grammars.)

    My mistake here can be summarised as: too much theory, too unsystematically presented.
  • T Clark
    14k
    If you think of the poetic function of language as a subtype of "fun with pattern recognition" (alongside seeing bunnies in clouds and such), that might even have contributed to the creation of language in the first place. Shared social grunt-play. Would make sense to me.

    A scene from the anime Yuyushiki that may or may not demonstrate what I mean (depending on how much sense I make):
    Dawnstorm

    For me, all language is play and poetry is particularly playful. Metaphors are jokes. Pronunciation, rhyming, rhythm, and alliteration are music. I liked the video.
  • T Clark
    14k


    I just remembered something I hadn't thought about in a long time. In my Boy Scout troop, we played games after our weekly meeting. One of my favorites was Gab Fest. Two people stand close and look each other in the eye. When someone says "start" they have to start talking fast without stop or pause. The first one to run out of things to say loses. The words don't have to be meaningful, but you can't just repeat the same thing over and over.

    I was good at it.
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