Archive for March, 2010

Entry 122 — Line 12, Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18

Monday, March 29th, 2010

My first  question about line 12 is whether we should take “to time” to go with “eternal lines” or with “thou grow’st.”  That is, is it “eternal lines to time” or “thou grow’st to time.”  the first comes closer to making sense to me but doesn’t make it well enough.  Vendler is somewhat interesting about about this sonnet, by the way, but does not offer a close reading of it, and says nothing about line 12.

When I asked about the line at the poetry discussion group, New-Poetry, I got some good responses as to the gist of the line but they weren’t as specific as I wanted.  For instance, what I really wanted to know was what “to” and “grow’st.” mean.  I’m sure “lines” must mean lines of poetry, with hints of lineage and maybe lines in faces.  And the line is saying the addressee has been immortalized by poetry.  But how can the lines be “to” time?  A poem to X usually is taken as a poem addressed to X and this one is addressed to a person, “thee.”  I can see “grow’st” as (sort of) having to do with increasing in stature.  Also as actually growing due to the summer
in the addressee’s day although that seems awkward to me.

Brian Hawkins suggested a reading of “time” as “effectively meaning eternity, i.e. you’ll keep growing till eternity)” and thus to be taken as part of “to time thous grow’st” rather than “eternal lines to time.”  Robin Hamilton went with this, in part because the he found a strong metrical pause after “lines,” which I can’t say I do.

Later Brian added  his thought that ”to’ means ‘into’, ‘grow’st’ means ‘continues growing’ (not necessarily getting bigger, but growing, as things do in summer), and time means, rather than eternity as I said earlier, more simply ‘the future.’  So that ‘to time thou grow’st’ means, more or less, ‘you keep growing into the future.’ ”

Robin then, having consulted Abbott, A Shakespearean Grammar (1870), http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/cgi-bin/ptext?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.03.0080;layout=;loc=1;query=toc), interestingly suggested that “to” might mean “against,” which would allow the lines to be “against” time, or a means of defeating time; or the addressee could be thought to be growing or flourishing against (or despite) time.

Robin also gave this from the OED in support of his view:

25. Expressing impact (cf. 1, 5a) or attack: At, against, upon.

Janet Blankfield, going with this, wondered if (battle) ‘lines’ could be something to do with a military response to ‘the enemy’, time.  I like this but find it a stretch.

I’m not fully convinced that “to” can be thought to mean “against,” but would be pleased if it did, for it would settle the problem of what the line precisely means quite well.  In the usage examples in the OED like “If eny man have a quarrel to a nother” “to” could, it seems to me, readily be taken as simply indicating the object of, in this case, a quarrel–the same way “quarrel with another” would (and few, I think, would take “with” ever to mean “against.”  Today.  Maybe then.

So I remain uncertain about the line.  Booth has “line 12, where the beloved, bound to time the destroyer, grows to–fuses with–time, as a grafted scion grows to–and thus along with–a tree.  I find this forced.  I think a metaphor like that either needs to be clearer or fore-shadowed, or shown in some way by the context that it plausibly could be there.

I also thought (or read someone else who suggested) the addressee could be growing to time as to full size–that is, the addressee is becoming time.  But that makes no sense, to me.

According to Robin, Kerrigan (Penguin) and Duncan-Jones (Oxford) both agree that the primary meaning of “lines” is ‘lines of poetry’, with a possible secondary meaning of ‘lineage’.  There are also the lines that Time draws on the human face (in 19: 10, “draw no lines there,” which Duncan-Jones notes).

“Overall,” Robin surmises, “the line would seem to mean (Death shall not brag) ‘when you grow older’ (so long as men breath and see).”  But there’d be no reason for Death to brag he’s captured the addressee while the addressee were still alive.  The context seems to require the line to say that the addressee will still be alive and beautiful after he dies, so (to confuse everyting all the more) “When in eternal lines to time” might be some kind of expression for “when you have left life for eternity.”

Someone (Robin?) made the point that “the line reads succinctly & clearly without ‘to time’ and that should tell us something.  It may be cop out to say so, but?maybe the ‘to time’ operates as a quick bridge built by the Bard to fill out the meter.”  I like that.

My final comment was that I leaned toward “thou growest to time” and hope it was a standard phrase of the time that meant something like take a place in a culture’s permanent memory or the like.

Entry 121 — Definition of Scientific Account

Thursday, March 18th, 2010

Many of my thoughts and hypotheses keep getting hammered for being unscientific, including my poetics (which I consider definitely scientific, which is why so many poets hate it).  So, here once again, although newly formed, is my definition of what a scientific account of some aspect of reality is:

An account of some aspect of reality is scientific if it satisfies the following four criteria:

1. It contradicts no law of nature held by the consensus of intelligent, informed observers.

2. Data accepted by the consensus above as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to support it.

3. No data accepted by the consensus above as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to refute it.

4. It is falsifiable.

Note: satisfying the four criteria only makes an account scientific; it doesn’t necessarily make it valid or of any importance.  Moreover, it will always be temporary since new data can always show up.

Because many highly regarded accounts of aspects of nature do not satisfy my four criteria but are accepted by a great deal of experts in the fields they are concerned with, such as physics’s big bang theory, which some facts contradict (the ones requiring the further hypothesis of the existence of unobserved “dark matter”) and which breaks certain laws of nature (the ones requiring such certain laws of nature to be different when the big bang occurred),  I also have a definition of what I call “Near-Scientific Accounts.”

An account of some aspect of reality is near-scientific if it satisfies the following four criteria:

1. If it contradicts a law of nature held by the consensus of intelligent, informed observers, the same consensus agrees that some end-around (like dark matter) is plausible.

2. Data accepted by the consensus above as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to support it.

3. If some data accepted as factual can be shown by standard logic directly to refute it, experts agree that some end-around is plausible.

4. It is falsifiable.

An account of some aspect of reality that is neither scientific nor near-scientific is unscientific.

Okay, in a few hours I should be an a Greyhound bus on my way to South Carolina.  I hope to post at least once from there.  If not, expect a new entry around April Fools’ Day.

Entry 120 — Responding to Narratives of Misery

Wednesday, March 17th, 2010

Topic: why some people like narratives about miserable people.   A variation on why people like tragedy–as, on the surface, they should not, if my claim that the object of art is to give pleasure is true.

1. The standard answer: one experiencing the narrative experiences the beauty of the ugly material’s aesthetic expression.  The artist provides a taming order to horror, and pleasurable details, for instance, as with Macbeth’s famous “sound and fury.”

2. A simple psychological answer: it results in an “Ah, I’m not alone!” for someone empathetic who is exposed to it.

3. Another obvious one: it produces in the person experiencing it the kind of happiness one gets from looking through a window of a snug, secure house at a blizzard.

Entry 119 — Defining Visual Poetry Again

Tuesday, March 16th, 2010

In a month or so, John Bennett’s and my selection for a gallery of visual poems in The Pedestal should be appearing.  John and I each will be providing a preface for it, as I understand it.  In any case, I started thinking about mine last night.  Once again I returned to my obsession with defining “visual poetry.”  This time, though, I wasn’t concerned with my main definitional obsession, the requirement of visual poetry to contain words, but with a lesser obsession, the requirement that a visual poem be more than an illustrated poem, or poetically captioned illustration–because of an excellent submission I got consisting of several arresting visual images, each with a haiku running across its bottom.

Dogma#1: a visual poem must consist of a significant graphic element significantly interacting with a significant verbal element.  Dogma #2: a reader of the poem must experience the poem’s graphic and verbal elements simultaneously.  There will come a day when neurophysiologists will be able to detect this simultaneous experience.  Thereupon we will have an objective way of determining whether a not a given work is a visual poem–for a given person.

This simultaneous experience seems to me the whole point of visual poetry, difficult though it be to provide it.   My “Nocturne” demonstrates how it is done, so that’s the poem I’ll be using as my “Editor’s Poem” for the gallery.  It’s based on the simple idea of dotting all the letters in “night” to suggest stars, then doing the same with “voice” to indicate a voice with stars in it.  Very sentimental, but a favorite of mine.  For some reason, though, I can’t find it in my computer files, so apparently have not yet saved it digitally.

Entry 118 — Geof Huth’s Collected Pwoermds

Monday, March 15th, 2010

I haven’t started my trip yet. My body conked out before I could–some kind of virus, I guess. So I’m still at home. Should be leaving in a couple of days.

I was feeling too lousy to post anything here for two or three days, and wouldn’t today, either, although I feel a lot better.   However, today I got a copy of Geof Huth’s NTST, the subtitle of which is the collected pwoermds of geof huth. It’s perfect for a blog entry because I can quote whole poems from it quickly, and because I found some pwoermds I can be quickly insightful about.   So, here’s one page:

an/atomy

shadowl

rayns

watearth

upond

psilence

These pwoerds are absolutely representative of the many (hundreds?) pwoermds in the collection, which I mention in case anyone suspects I chose them to show him at his very best.  Two thoughts: that he misspelled “psylence,” and that “shadowl” is such an especially good pwoermd that it ought to be on a page by iself.  The selections on this page are intended, I’m sure, to be stand-alones, but they also look like and work as a five-line poem.   That I find “sahdowl” better clearly by itself is ironic, for I’ve several times opined that while pwoermds could occasionally be terrific, they work best as part of longer poems.

Oddly, I find evidence for this (in my opinion) on the very next page of NTST:

Pebbleslight


stilllllife


I like it much better as “pebbleslight stilllllife.”  Of course, with the title (and Geof defines pwoermds as one-word poems without a title), one still reads pebbles into the still life.  I just like the linkage closer.  I’d like a detail or two more, too–really, I’d like a full-scale haiku using “pebbleslight stilllllife.”  Which is absolutely not to say I don’t extremely like the piece exactly as Geof has it.

Oh, NTST was published in England by if p then q (apparently not an offshoot of Geof’s dbqp press).  Its website is at www.ifpthenq.co.uk.

Entry 117 — Another Vacation

Thursday, March 11th, 2010

I don’t know how long this one will last–I need to go out of state to help out with one of my brothers, who is sick (as is his wife).  Will be very busy–and probably not have access to a computer.

Entry 116 — Finally Back

Tuesday, March 9th, 2010

All I have today is a revision of my last mathemaku:

The title of the piece is “Mathemaku in Honor of Andrea Bianco’s 1436 Map of the World.”  I changed the previous quotient from “music” to a picture of a lute.  My reasoning was that “music” was too general; I wanted something that said “medieval.”  I’m satisfied with it now.

I’m a bit shocked to see how long it’s been since my last entry here.  I thought it’d only been four or five days.  I’m going to try to post more often now, maybe not daily but at least three or four times a week.  The past three days I’ve woken up feeling good.  I’ve been more productive though not as productive as I’d like to be.  Still, I’m out of the null zone I was in.

Part of the reason for that is that my bad leg (due apparently to sciatica) is better, although I still can’t run on it to any extent.  I’m optimistic that it will fully come around if I give it time and don’t play tennis again till I’m sure it’s okay.  Three times I played when it seemed okay but not right, and each time suffered during the next few days.

The pain pills I’m taking for the problem are probably (alas) the main reason I’m feeling so good psychologically.  Also contributing it the fact that I’m winning the game of Civilization I’m playing in!  I’ve never won it at the level I’m now playing it at.  This shouldn’t mean anything but it means a ridiculously lot!  Winning just about any kind of competition really zings me!

That’s it for now.  Hope to be back tomorrow.  Will definitely be back before the week ends.