Column092 — March/April 2009 « POETICKS

Column092 — March/April 2009





Infra-Verbal Playtime

 


Small Press Review,
Volume 41, Numbers 3/4, March/April 2009




      The Protext Primer, Fourth Edition
      By Will Napoli
      2008; 68 pp; Pa; Protext Press,
      http://www.ProtextPoetry.com. $15.

      not quite write,
      ultra mate ‘em
and
      insightful wry utter

      By paloin biloid
      2008; 16, 12 and 12 pp; Pa; Protext Press,
      http://www.ProtextPoetry.com. $3, each.

      Texistence
      By Geof Huth & mIEKAL aND
      2008; 300 pp; Pa; Xerox Sutra Editions,
      10375 Cty Hway Alphabet, LaFarge WI54639.
      http://www.xexoxial.org. $15 plus shipping and handling.


I was eager to write up the fourth edition of Will Napoli’s The Protext Primer, which is basically a dictionary of terms having to do with what Napoli calls “experimental minimalist poetry,” before I even read it and found out it includes some terms of mine. That’s because I’d seen earlier editions of the Primer, and had long been acquainted with Napoli’s outstanding work in the field as poet and critic. Still, I have to admit that I appreciated his inclusion of such of my words as “infra-verbal poetry,” and “alphaconceptual poetry.” I’m not sure he got the definition of the latter right, though–assuming my own definition of it was right. When I checked it, I wasn’t sure, so I made what I think is a better definition of it, which I went on to explain in detail. In other words, Napoli’s book quickly inspired . . . advanced scholarship.

Result? A definition of alphaconceptual poetry as poetry in which the units of the alphabet (taken to include numerals, punctuation marks, mathematical symbols and the like, as well as letters) are of central aesthetic significance because of what they are conceptually as opposed to what they are verbally, visually or auditorially. For instance, the second “gh” in Aram Saroyan’s “lighght” is centrally significant aesthetically not because it helps a reader to the verbal meaning of a word, or for how it looks or sounds, but because it is a conceptualization of a linguistic state of there/not-there, or visual presence/auditory non-presence. Similarly, that the “xyz” in Ed Conti’s pwoermd, “galaxyz,” is conceptually the end of the alphabet is what makes it aesthetically effective. For one last example, consider my making “boy on a s.wing” the conclusion of a poem of mine. The period is conceptually “something that brings a sentence to a close,” which makes “wing” conceptually “something that disobeys a law of grammar”–the way the boy on the swing transcends the law of gravity.

I checked Napoli’s primer to see if it has a word for poetry using a period for poetic effect, as I did. No. This surprised me, for it seems to have a word for just about every kind of word-play poetry. Like “punctuapery,” which is a class of protext in which punctuation marks replace letters–as in “contract’rs.” “Protext” is defined as “concrete and visual poetry that employs gadgets of experimental poetics useful in defining classes and types of it.” Napoli’s recent synonym for it, also in the primer, is “exploetry,” a term I like a good deal. Most protext seems to me to be infra-verbal poetry, which is poetry depending on what happens inside words for its aesthetic charge. In any case, a central value of The Protext Primer is its some two hundred names for different kinds of minimalist poems; another is its many entertaining specimens of such poems–for instance, the “myspelling” of “testimony” as “testimoney”; or “!nverse,” which is in the entry for “exclamates,” and can be read as both “inverse” and “n verse,” to represent, perhaps, a kind of poetry, or a reference to one of the n possible universes, according to some physicists. Conclusion: it’s a great resource for academics, but lots of fun for browsers, as well.

Protext Press, publisher of the primer, has also recently published three little chapbooks of “paloin biloid’s” protext. One of them, insightful wry utter, is “”(for Bob Grumman),” so my praise of such pieces of protext as “me@ball” can be utterly ignored. My favorite is mathematical:

five

iv

iii

ii

i

biloid’s ultra mate ‘em, dedicated to Chris Franke, consists of thirteen clever word-games matching an “est” word punningly to a regular word. So there’s “slum = divest” and “double agent = molest.” A dive is a slum, a double agent a mole, got it? My favorite of these is “infinity = nest.” Just a hint for that: remember than “n” in mathematics can stand for “a constant integer.” The othe chap, not quite write, is a collection of variations on minimalist poems by Aram Saroyan, to whom it is dedicated. One is “tongh.” The only one with a title, “A Poem Recognizing Something in a Poem,” plays artfully with three letters and a question mark: “owh?/ ow?h/ o?wh/ ?owh/ who?/ wh?o/ w?ho/ ?who/ how? ho?w/ h?ow/ ?how.”

To finish this installment of my column, I have another infra-verbal work to discuss, Texistence, a beautifully packaged collection of 300 Joycean powermds (or one-word poems, as my readers should know) that Geof Huth and mIEKAL aND composed in two days last June. Go to http://xexoxial.org/is/texistence/by/geof_huth_and_mIEKAL_aND for an entertaining short discussion of what they did by Huth–and find out about the many other intriguing wares at Xexoxial Editions, the publisher of Texistence. My favorite word in Texistence is “subpremely.” But there are a slew of good ones in it, such as “slodslip,” “llyllylly,” “opulsed,” “vrititure” (which sounds like one of my taxonomical terms), “fossilitate” . . . Enjoyable these are, at least for infra-verbal nuts like me and Will Napoli. But 300 of them? I dunno. They made me wonder if I could make 300 pwoermds in two days, all of them based on “bob.” -“Boboon.” “Bobloon.” “Doubobloon.” “Bobloom.” “Boblusky.” “Bobaric.” “Boblong.” ‘Bobbit.” “Bobbunny.” “Bobth.” “Bodby.” I think I could but I think I won’t try to.

 

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How to Appreciate a Mathemaku « POETICKS

How to Appreciate a Mathemaku

How to Appreciate a Mathemaku

Click the above to view a pdf file.  On my screen, the pages look best reduced to 75%.
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12 Responses to “How to Appreciate a Mathemaku”

  1. jerry mcguire says:

    Hi, Bob–

    Thanks for the chance to look over your rationale–if that’s the word. Maybe “rubric,” as the departmental committeeists like to say these days. I certainly see what you’re doing here (like the kid who finally “gets” a long division answer right by himself), and follow your explanation o.k. I just want to note two things that work as a kind of impediment for me, which involve one comment about your explanatory process. First, just taking the thing at face value, trying to reason it out, I come up against the “heart” image–as you say, a valentine heart. You’re very aware of the great variety of associations individuals have to words, and here you have one word whose associations would surely differ in the norther and southern hemisphere, in temperate zones and near the equator, in mountains and in deserts (that’s “February”), one word whose associations mostly (I think) depend on cultural mythologies (still, does “Zanzibar” carry those mythologies for Africans as well as Americans?), and one word (actually several words–it’s a homonym) that in one of its manifestations is replete with a great variety of religious significances (you don’t seem to mean, though I don’t see why you couldn’t, a part of the head)–and these, I’d suggest, might be quite intense and quite various, differing for Jews, Buddhists, and Christians. And you have one visual symbol that, misreadings aside, I’d say, can only mean one thing: the division sign. You divisor, meanwhile, is that “heart” image, and here (at last) is my first concern: what does the “heart” image represent? Certainly not (except ironically) the same for me as for some dreamy teenager getting his/her first valentine’s card. The “heart” is also a _heart_–that is, if you aren’t simply swirling in a romantic daze, it calls to mind actual hearts, like mine, with its four stents and tendency to buck under certain circumstances. Your explanation certainly shows that you’re conscious of all these polyvalences and multiplicities, and your anchoring them to a sign that assumes definite properties of number might be read as ironic or “poetic” or simply perverse. But I don’t see how your explanations either explains or explains _away_ the huge variances that might emerge from all those associations. It doesn’t really tell me how I might “appreciate” that kind of compression of logic (the division sign) and imagery (the expression of constructions of the imagination), despite the indisputable fact that this dimension of your mathemaku is also a dimension of most poetry–a dimension notable for it variety of configurations, I’d say. My second point concerns your association of the form with haiku–a connection you carefully and correctly qualify as you offer it. Believe me, I see what you mean, and the fact that I don’t agree with your claim shouldn’t be seen in itself as a criticism of your mathemaku–I just think that haiku work very differently from the process of these poems, that the relation between logic and reason feels very different to me in the haiku and in what you’re doing. In fact, I think I see a kind of dissonance at the heart of your poems, a tension between the freeplay of the image and a desire for definitional/logical rigor represented by the mathematical element. It seems pretty alive to me–a good thing, as lots of poets go there to die, at least as poets.

    Good luck with your show, Bob, and happy new year–I hope these comments turn out to be useful to you in some way. That’s certainly my reason for sending them along.

    best,

    Jerry

  2. Bob Grumman says:

    Thanks much for the most excellent probe, Jerry. I don’t think there’s much difference between your take on what I’m doing and mine, when I go deeper into it than I wanted to in this little guide of mine. My only comment back (for now) is that I generally take it for granted that my poems (usually) are by someone from Connecticut for North Americans (even though I now live in Florida). So, yeah, the Australian version will have to have “August” substituted for “February!”

    all best, Bob

  3. Mike Snider says:

    Bob,

    I came here because of your post on New Poetry.

    My first memory of what we now call ethnic conflict is the massacre and expulsion of Indians and Arabs accompanying Zanzibar’s independence – also my earlist memory of Zanzibar. I had just turned 11, just become interested in politics because of Kennedy’s assasination, the first few people I knew personally who died or were injured in Viet Nam, and the conflicts in Louisville (my hometown) over school and housing desegregation. And, as Jerry McGuire wrote above, Zanzibar was closely associated wth the slave trade — it was, in fact, East Africa’s most important slave port. So, for me, Zanzibar is, rather than a symbol of magic and mystery, a reminder of immense, deliberately caused human suffering. Multiplying Zanzibar and a Valentine’s heart, for me, could result in a temple only if it were a temple desecrated by the heart’s blood of a suffering people. But then, I don’t have a very high opininon of temples either. Until recently, they were among the most efficient causers of murder.

    I think this points to a general problem with visual poetry – imagery is not discursive; its meanings are not bound with the same force with which verbal meanings are bound. Neither, of course, are bound with anything remotely like the precision of mathematics. In your mathematical visual poetry, you try to introduce something like syntax with mathemaical symbols, but the things you link in this way are simply not bounded in the way mathematical terms are. Your Zanzibar is not my Zanzibar, or that of any person with a serious interest in history or poiltics, or, for that matter, that of a commodities trader in the spice market or that of a lover of cloves, so placing it in a quasi-mathematical function will yield wildly different results for different “readers.” Integer division is not like that: even the repeating decimals resulting from operations like 10/3 can be precisely and uniquely located on a number line by constructive methods.

    Not to say that verbal lyrics don’t have some of the same problems: we no longer sing “My Old Kentucky Home” with all of Stephen Foster’s words, even though Frederick Douglas thought those original words aroused “sympathies for the slave, in which anti-slavery principles take root and flourish.” (That last from the wikipedia article on the song)

  4. Bob Grumman says:

    Thanks for taking the time to comment, Mike. I would only say that I believe the context of the poem will eliminate the political connotations “Zanzibar” and “temple” have for you for those with a serious aesthetic interest in poetry. As for “things I link” with mathematics not being “bounded in the way mathematical terms are,” that’s a main point of my mathematical poems–exploitation of the tension between the poetic and the mathematical, or anti-poetic. And the mathematical elements (I wouldn’t call them “functions,” myself) are mathematical, not “quasi-mathematical.” The long division is long division–but long division of words rather than mathematical elements. Finally, though, my presentation is not intended to defend long division poetry, only to show what I hope is a way to appreciate it, at least for those of my temperament.

    What, by the way, do you think of those who despise formal poetry because it seems to them fascist?

  5. Mike Snider says:

    To answer your question – there is no historical connection between formal poetry and fascism. In fact, Ezra Pound, probably the most important proponent of of “new” forms of poetry, was an explicit supporter of Mussolini, the original fascist.

    Here’s a question for you – if the mathematical elements are, in fact, mathematical, then where is the logical structure to show that its results are the necessary (even if only probabilistically so) consequences of initial premises and formal rules?

  6. Bob Grumman says:

    There doesn’t have to be a historical connection for formalism to be considered fascist, a philosophical one will do: the fact that rules are forced on people by both fascism and (strict) poetic form. But that’s beside the point, which is that some people subjectively consider formal poetry fascist or authoritarian and therefore flawed the same way you subjectively consider a poem with “Zanzibar” in it politically tainted and therefore flawed. In both cases one is unable to put aside political feelings that really have nothing to do with the poems involved. Obviously, I’m not writing a poem honoring a dictionary as being part of some war and/or slave-trading, nor do your sonnets have anything to do with fascism.

    As for the logical structure you speak of, I’m not sure what you mean. What I believe is that the long division symbol, which I call the dividend shed, acts in my poem exactly the way it does in arithmetic: it states that what is inside it is to be divided by the term to its left. Or: it asks what the term on its left has to be multiplied to equal it, or almost equal it. The difference is that the terms are (usually) words; but they are metaphorically taken to act like numbers to reveal a relationship among them like numbers in a long division reveal how they relate to each other. Intuition takes over from pure reason, or pure reason sets up a situation allowing an intuitive (poetic) understanding of words (or whatever non-mathematical terms are involved, such as graphics) to find out something new about how they inter-relate–or something old arrived at in a refreshingly different way.

    It’s mathematical poetry: half mathematics–the operation–and half poetry–the terms. Mathematics might be said to be taking over (in a way) for metrical form.

    I would ask what is going on in the poems if nothing mathematical is. Surely the dividend shed is doing something.

    Another thought: how would you take the following equation: agility times height equals success-in-basketball?

    –Bob

  7. Mike Snider says:

    Just a quick very partial response before unconsciousness – agility times height does does not equal success-in-basketball without thousands of hours of drill and practice. And the shed is a metaphor, not a bad metaphor, but not mathematics.

  8. Mike Snider says:

    That should be “thousands of hours of drill and practice under the guidance of a very good coach and in the company of of other players, similarly talented and well-coached.”

  9. Bob Grumman says:

    The dividend shed is mathematics used metaphorically. As for the basketball equation, what I want to know is what you take it as, not how valid you think it. Is it in any way mathematical? But change “agility” to “potential,” if you want a greater degree of validity.

  10. Mike Snider says:

    Bob, three messages back the “the mathematical elements are … mathematical, not ‘quasi-mathematical’,” now it’s “mathematics used metaphorically.” Which is it? And, for the life of me, I can’t see what difference it makes to substitute “potential”for “agility.” Mathematics is a formal system defined in such a way that the outcome of a set of operations performed on a particular set of properly formed inputs will necessarily produce such-and-such a set of results. Metaphors don’t work that way. Poetry doesn’t work that way.

    I would never claim that what you do is not art — it’s sometimes very good art, which is all any of us can hope for. But it certainly isn’t mathematics, and while it sits fairly comfortably next to more traditional poetry, it should be no surprise to you that poets generally don’t feel it has much to do with their work — no more than you think sonnets have much to do with your work.

  11. Mike Snider says:

    I’ve been thinking a little more about the connections between fascism and Ezra Pound’s dictum “make it new.” There was a sense in the early twentieth century that everything could be remade in more rational form – even, and perhaps especially, human nature. Fascism and Communism were both attempts to do this, despite their very different notions of the Good. Artists from both sides of that divide worked to discover new forms to encourage/model/engage what they felt to be the newly emerging human consciousness, and both sides, both politically and artistically, declared old forms to be “reactionary,” or “bourgeois.” Free verse was most definitely connected with this revolutionary spirit, and formal poetry definitely considered by the revolutionaries on both sides to be an affront to the new orders they respectively desired. Art is always messy, and there were certainly exceptions on both sides, but there is a way in which metrical verse is a celebration of the continuity of the human endeavor while free verse is a deliberate attack on that continuity: “Make it new.” Both Fascism and Communism, and the various poetics of the new poetries, assume that human nature is infinitely malleable — but it is not.

    It isn’t as important that there be or not be rules for doing this or making that as it is that what rules there are arise from a delight in and a respect for human capacity and desire as they are revealed in spontaneous human interaction with their world, including the other people in it. Metrical verse, rhyme, and narrative, from their ubiquity in human culture, clearly are genuine expressions of that human capacity and desire.

    Of course, so is war. But madrigals don’t kill people.

  12. Bob Grumman says:

    I give up, Mike–I see no way of making you see that my poems are mathematical, just not entirely mathematical. The dividend shed works the same way in my long division poems as it does in arithmetic. Its mathematical operation is then used metaphorically, but that doesn’t make it not mathematical. In fact, to work as a metaphor it has to remain mathematical.

    As for free verse linking with fascism, a politics of slavery, I don’t see it. Again, though, I was not arguing that formal verse and fascism go together, but something else. (See preceding comment.)

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Chettle’s Testimony Regarding Shakespeare « POETICKS

Chettle’s Testimony Regarding Shakespeare

Henry Chettle’s Testimony Regarding William Shakespeare

I contend that Chettle speaks of the Crow of Greenes Groatsworth of Wit as a playwright in a preface he wrote for a pamphlet of his, Kind-Harts Dreame (1592). There, he mentions two playwrights who had taken offense at the Groatsworth, which Chettle edited or wrote.  Here’s the key passage: “With neither of them that take offence was I acquainted, and with one of them I care not if I neuer be: The other, whome at that time I did not so much spare, as since I wish I had, for that as I haue moderated the heate of liuing writers, and might have vsde my owne discretion (especially in such a case) the Narrator being dead, that I did not, I am as sory as if the originall fault had beene my fault, because my selfe haue seene his demeanor no lesse ciuill than he excellent in the qualitie he professes: Besides, diuers of worship haue reported his uprightness of dealing, which argues his honesty, and his facetious grace in writting, that aprooues his Art.”

The first point I want to make may seem a trivial, even dopey point, but it will prove important, trust me. It has to do with the reactions of the two playwrights who complained about what the Groatsworth said. In the case of Playwright #1, Chettle says (immediately after the passage just quoted), “For the first, whose learning I reuerence, and at the perusing of Greenes Booke, stroke out what then in conscience I thought he in some displeasure writ: or had it beene true, yet to publish it, was intollerable: him I would wish to vse me no worse that I deserue.” Playwright #1 therefore had to be complaining of an injury done to him personally since Chettle would not likely have thought, prior to meeting this man, that he “stroke out” a passage for him, or in his behalf, if the line were about someone else. That is, while Playwright #1 could have been upset over something said about someone else, Chettle would hardly, when readying the Groatsworth for publication, notice a passage that maligns Mr. X—intollerably—and at that point decide to take it out for someone other than Mr. X., in this case, Playwright #1.

In the case of Playwright #2, Chettle says, “The other, whome at that time I did not so much spare, as since I wish I had . . .” Ergo, Playwright #2 had to have taken offense at an injury done to him personally (and specifically) because Chettle is speaking of now wishing he had spared him—as opposed to wishing he had spared someone else concerning whose treatment Playwright #2 was upset. Moreover, Chettle goes on to give as his reason for now wishing he had
spared him the fact he had “seene his demeanor no lesse ciuill than he excellent in the qualitie he professes: Besides, diuers of worship haue reported his uprightness of dealing, which argues his honesty, and his facetious grace in writting, that aprooues his Art.” Would it make sense for Chettle to wish he had toned down words insulting Mr. X—Playwright #2, who had taken offense on Mr. X.’s behalf—has turned out to be a very decent and worthy fellow?

Now, if one accepts that each of the two persons took offense at having been personally maligned by something in the Groatsworth letter (and I think one must accept that, if nothing else I argue), it follows that the two must have been among the persons the Groatsworth letter
specifically mentions (and this is why my point was important to me to make). There were six of these, but two who were briefly mentioned but identified in no way toward the end of the letter are too insignificantly referred to, to count, even for the anti-Stratfordians I’ve read.

So, we’re dealing with just four persons: the Crow, and the three playwrights to whom the letter was addressed. So far as the playwrights the Groatsworth addresses are concerned, I agree with the consensus among literary scholars, a strong one, that identifies them as Christopher Marlowe, Thomas Nashe and George Peele. Their identity isn’t crucial to any of the arguments I’ll be making, but it’s important enough to say a little more about it.

The first of them to be mentioned is spoken of as a “famous gracer of Tragedians,” a description that would have best fit Marlowe among the playwrights writing at the time, according to D. Allen Carroll, whose 1994 edition of the Groatsworth is the main source for my comments
on the Groatsworth. The Groatsworth-author also describes this playwright as having prosecutably wild opinions on touchy matters like religion, just as Marlowe was reputed to have had. The Groatsworth-author wonders if the cause of this is that “pestilent Machivilian pollicy (or unscrupulous cunning) that thou hast studied,” and not only did rumors have it that Marlowe was a disciple of Machiavelli, but Marlowe had Machiavelli serve as the Prologue to his play, The Jew of Malta. It is thus “by near universal consent” (Carroll states) that the
Groatsworth-narrator’s “famous gracer of Tragedians” should be taken as Marlowe.

The second playwright the Groatsworth-narrator addresses is believed to have been Nashe, like Peele and Marlowe, a known associate of Greene—and whoever the Groatsworth-author was, he is in this letter playing the part of Greene, which means the associates he refers to ought to have been genuine associates of Greene’s. Chief among the reasons it makes sense to take the second playwright as Nashe is that the Groatsworth-narrator calls him “yong Juvenall, that byting Satyrist” and Nashe, just 25 then (nine years younger than Greene), was the preeminent satirist of the time. The Groatsworth-narrator advises him to leave his targets anonymous so as to avoid getting “many enemies by bitter wordes,” and Nashe had more than once been attacked by those he had previously directed “bitter wordes” at.

That the third playwright is Peele is based almost entirely on the Groatsworth-narrator’s roundaboutly bringing in St. George in what seems a rather transparent hint at Peele’s first name—and the lack of anyone else better for the role. But the third playwright is also said to have been “driven to extreme shifts,” like the Groatsworth-narrator; that is, as Carroll points out in a footnote, the third playwright was, like the popular conception of Peele then and now, in “constant, near-desperate want.”

It is true, too, that the reference to St. George would tie into Peele’s reputation as “an outrageous jingo in politics, a fire-eater and mouther of marvelous patriotic hyperboles” (C. F. T. Brooke, Literary History of England, edited by Baugh, et al. [1948], 455)—as particularly indicated by the publication of Peele’s poem on the Order of the Garter, which makes much of St. George, England’s patron, in 1593, the very year of Greene’s Groatsworth of Wit.

So, the four candidates for Playwright #2 are the Crow, and Marlowe, Nashe and Peele. To cut this number by one, we can in short order dispose of Marlowe—by showing that he was Playwright #1. This makes sense because Marlowe had by far the most reason of anyone
dealt with by the Groatsworth letter to have been upset by it, for it described him as a disciple of Machiavelli, and claimed he had said, “There is no God,” and gave “no glorie to the giver.” At the very least, then, the letter accuses Marlowe of atheism, about the most serious offense one could be charged with then, and of Machiavellism, which was close to satanism for the letter-writer, and many other Elizabethans. How could Marlowe not have protested?

Moreover, there’s Chettle’s saying that he “stroke out” something in the letter about Playwright #2 that “had it beene true, yet to publish it, was intollerable. Unlike Nashe and Peele—or the Crow (so far as we know)—Marlowe could well have been guilty of something it would have been “intollerable” to impute to him (homosexuality, the scholarly opinion is, though why Chettle would have viewed that worse than atheism, I’m not sure). Marlowe also seems to have been considered especially learned and more likely to have been “reverenced” for it by
Chettle than any of the other three. He was clearly irascible, as well—the kind of person one would not be surprised Chettle found hard to get along with, for he was twice involved in duels, and died in a tavern brawl (or the equivalent thereof—except for those who believe he
wrote the plays of Shakespeare). That Marlowe was Playwright #1 is therefore close to universally acknowledged.

Which leaves Nashe, Peele and the Crow as the only viable candidates for the position of Playwright #2. There is a definite problem with the Crow’s candidacy, one that I’ve avoided to this point for the sake of narrative flow. It is Chettle’s saying that the Groatsworth letter was
“offensively taken” by two of the playwrights it was addressed to, which would exclude the Crow, who was not addressed by it. I claim, however, that Chettle overlooked or forgot that the letter was not directly, only indirectly, written to the Crow. Chettle, in this interpretation, would have done this because he wrongly assumed the Crow had been one of the playwrights the Groatsworth letter addressed. Not a bizarre error on Chettle’s part, and quite plausible if he rushed his apology, as he and many authors of such bits of journalism in those days did (and still do in ours). That he did indeed rush his apology is strongly suggested by its slapdash nature. For
instance, Chettle says the Groatsworth was written to “diuers playmakers,” which suggests that he hasn’t a copy of the letter at hand as he is writing, or is not consulting it very closely if he does, since three is less than most people would take “divers” to mean. He then says that the letter was offensively taken by “one or two” of the play-makers it was written to—again, an inexactness that suggests hurried writing.

His reference to the offended pair, who “wilfully forge in their conceites a liuing Narrator,” is something short of respectful, yet just a few lines later he describes the second of the two in glowing terms and says he is as sorry that he let the bad parts of the letter through unedited as if he had written them himself—that is, his tone changes drastically, and he pretty much contradicts his earlier stance toward the second play-maker—evidence, again, of hurried, careless writing.

The only other point against the Crow I know of is similar. It is Chettle’s speaking of how well-known in book circles Chettle was for hindering “the bitter inveying against schollers,” which strongly suggests that he viewed them, as the OED has it, as men “who had studied at the university, and who, not having entered any of the learned professions or obtained any fixed employment, sought to gain a living by literary work.” The Groatsworth also uses that term to
describe the playwrights it was addressed to. Since the Crow can be presumed for several reasons not to have been a university man, he could not, the reasoning goes, have been Playwright #2. But, (1) that Chettle says he’s tried his best in the past to temper exhanges between scholars does not necessarily mean he must now be speaking of an exchange between scholars—he may be speaking of just an exchange; (2) he may have meant by schollers, simply “writers”; he does seem in this passage to use “scholler” and “writer” as synonyms (as do others of his time); or (3) he may have thought Playwright #2, whom he did not know, was a university man, or—not knowing whether he was or not—decided to be courteous and treat him as such,
or—again (shame on me)—have forgotten that he was speaking of university men.

Just to thoroughly confuse the issue, Thomas Beard in 1597 said of Marlowe that he was “by profession a scholler . . . but by practice a playmaker and a poet . . .” thus distinguishing between writers and schollers. Whether Chettle wrote his apology carelessly quickly or not,
though, there are good reasons for believing that the Crow was one of the two who took offense—reasons that, in my view, trump the two (weak) reasons against just given.

One is that Chettle makes a point (implicitly) of addressing the charges made in the letter against the Crow, point by point. To begin with, the Groatsworth charges the Crow with being riff-raff, a lowly actor, cruel and inconsiderate, ungenerous, a braggart; Chettle addresses this by asserting that the second playwright has a civil demeanor—is in fact, a decent fellow.

The Groatsworth is sarcastic about the Crow’s ability to create blank verse; Chettle speaks of Playwright #2’s facetious grace in writing, etc.

The Groatsworth couples the Crow with those who have, it would seem, unfairly denied Greene money in his time of need; Chettle speaks of the second playwright’s uprightness of dealing and honesty (or honor).

The Groatsworth scorns the Crow’s occupation, acting (the Crow is an ugly black creature without the dialogue supplied by his betters), but Chettle praises his “qualitie,” which he implicitly grants at least respectability as something professed.

Now, it might be protested that I’m claiming some care on the part of Chettle here, and full remembrance of the details of the wrongs done to the Crow—in direct contradiction to my previous picture of a sloppy, forgetful Chettle. True; however it seems plausible to me that Chettle could have checked that part of the letter that was complained of,it being the main reason for his apology, before writing the apology but not bothered with the rest. Chettle, to go on, speaks of wishing he’d spared Playwright #2 more than he did, not that he wishes he spared him entirely. This also favors the Crow as Playwright #2 because the Crow was manhandled not only personally, but as an actor, in insults of actors scattered throughout the Groatsworth letter. For Chettle to have removed all the bad that was said about actors would have disposed of just about the whole letter, so he could not have entirely spared the Crow. He could, however, have entirely spared any of the other two in the running by removing, in Nashe’s case, the only line that spoke ill of him in any significant way, one about his having been made to consider religion “lothsome” (and every other line that some anti-Stratfordian thinks could have offended him, like one saying he and his friends would be “base-minded” if they didn’t heed the Groatsworth-narrator’s words); in Peele’s case Chettle could have removed that same line, since it referred to him (and Marlowe) as well as to Nashe, plus a reference to him suggesting that he deserved to be poor since he’d cast his lot with actors. One additional point in the Crow’s favor is that only he among the playwrights mentioned in the Groastworth has some vocation other than his art, as Chettle’s text suggests Playwright #2 does, for it covers four of his characteristics: his demeanor, his vocation, his character and his art. It would be strangely unbalanced diction to speak of demeanor and vocation, and then character and vocation (as would be the case if the play-maker’s art was his vocation)—that is, to praise his writing twice in such a locution. This doubling of occupations strengthens the case for the second play-maker’s being the Crow since none of the other three playwrights of the Groatsworth letter had any vocation other than writing. It also tends to indicate that the second play-maker’s vocation was acting, the same as the Crow’s, Chettle using “qualitie” secondarily to imply that. What else would the man be professing whose excellance Chettle would have been in a position to judge? Aside from that, as several scholars have pointed out, “the qualitie” the Crow is said to profess was often used in Shakespeare’s time to mean specifically the acting trade.

My final argument for Playwright #2 as the Crow is the unlikelihood that the Crow, maltreated personally as a bad but very conceited would be playwright with a cruel heart who, it is implied, was party to ignoring the dying Greene’s needs—and was, on top of it, an actor, and thus about as degenerate as can be (see the line about “Epicures” again for just one piece of evidence of that)—would not complain. It seems to me that I have now established the Crow as a viable
candidate for Chettle’s second playwright. But what about the other two? Might they not be even more likely candidates? I believe not.

There are several reasons for eliminating Nashe, whom I will take first, from consideration. He may have been treated a little condescendingly in the letter, but it’s hard to imagine he could have taken offense at it, particularly inasmuch as he was also flattered. (The letter terms him a “byting Satyrist” who ought to “inveigh against vaine men, for (he) canst do it, no man better,” but he ought not to name those he’s satirizing. The Groatsworth never personally insults Nashe.) And the compliments Chettle directs at Playwright #2 would do nothing to address any complaint Nashe would have had about what the letter said about him personally.

Besides that, whereas Chettle states that he had not previously met either of the playwrights who took offense, he probably knew Nashe. Both he and Nashe specialized in pamphlets, were on the same side in the major disputes of the time, and were intimately connected with
Danter, who published the Groatsworth and pamphlets of Nashe’s (though it is unknown whether they both knew Danter when Danter put out the Groatsworth). Moreover, in Have With You To Saffron-walden, Nashe asserts he’s not some contentious maniac who attacks everyone
without reason: “…I neuer abused Marloe, Greene, Chettle in my life, nor anie of my frends that vsde me like a frend; which both Marloe and Greene (if they were aliue) vnder their hands would testifie, euen as Harry Chettle hath in a short note here,” which indicates that he and Chettle were friends at some point in their lives. As does Thomas Dekker’s A Knight’s Conjuring, in which Chettle is described as an “old acquaintance” of Nashe, Marlowe and Greene.

It should also be pointed out that Nashe publically denied gossip that made him the author of the Groatsworth. It would not seem likely that anyone would suspect him of that had the letter contained anything maligning him seriously enough to be complained about.

As for Peele, the Groatsworth letter says of him personally the following: “And thou no lesse deserving than the other two, in some things rarer, in nothing inferiour; driven (as my selfe) to extreme shifts, a litle have I to say to thee: and were it not an idolatrous oth, I would sweare by sweet S. George, thou art unworthy better hap, sith thou dependest on so meane a stay.” This seems to me a pretty weak denigration, though Jerry Downs feels that someone “of Peele’s
pretensions” could have been quite hurt by being described as poor. I doubt that but even so, what would all Chettle’s compliments of Playwright #2 do to assuage such a hurt? Why wouldn’t he have found “divers of worship” to say Playwright #2 was thriving?

In conclusion, while there is evidence both for and against each of the three candidates for the role of Playwright #2, the evidence for the Crow is much stronger than the evidence for the other two, and the evidence against the Crow much less reliable than the evidence against
the other two.  From this, it follows that Chettle testifies that the Crow was a playwright, thus corroborating my argument that the Groatsworth-author said that. This additional evidence that the Crow was a playwright, in turn, helps confirm the Groatsworth’s identifying him as the particular playwright, William Shakespeare.

That Chettle also speaks of Playwright #2’s civility, something Jonson, Heywood and others noted about Shakespeare, and of his “facetious grace in writting,” which is close to the way Shakespeare’s writing style is often thereafter described, is strong secondary evidence that laywright #2 was the Crow aka William Shakespeare. In conclusion, Greenes Groatsworth of Wit and Chettle’s preface, taken together, are sufficient to pretty much confirm that William Shakespeare was an actor/writer, by themselves. But we knew that already, right?

2 Responses to “Chettle’s Testimony Regarding Shakespeare”

  1. Bob,

    I assume this essay was written as a direct counter-point to Lukas Erne’s 1998 article arguing that George Peele was the second playwright Chettle claims had been insulted by Greene’s “letter written to divers play-makers.”

    Erne does make a very strong argument against Shakespeare (and for Peele) in Chettle’s apology, an apparently dangerous argument if accepted, since Chettle’s Apology is taken to “help[s] confirm the Groatsworth’s identifying [the Crow] as the particular playwright, William Shakespeare.”

    If that peg is allowed to be knocked over, then the Shakespeare interpretation of Groatsworth has some of the wind knocked out of its sails (though Erne does not seem to care). Therefore, it must be defended vigourously.

    Erne’s essay [Erne, Lukas (1998) ‘Biography and mythography: Rereading Chettle’s alleged apology to Shakespeare’, English Studies, 79: 5, 430 — 440.] needs to be more widely read and discussed.

    Regards,

    Daryl Pinksen

  2. Bob Grumman says:

    Daryl, sorry I took so long to approve your comment and reply to it. All I can say is that I’ve been very disorganized, as usual. As for Erne’s article, I’ve read it. I can’t remember whether I said anything in my essay in particular against what he said. If not, it was because I thought my argument more than enough to defeat his. Erne seems to me just another scholar who knows that to make a splash in Shakespeare scholarship, you have to deconstruct something or other.

    –Bob

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Learn to Write Poetry: Creative Writing Lessons

Most people think that poetry is a genius piece of work that only the most intelligent and talented people can undertake. This is however very wrong. Poetry is an open practice that anyone can engage in. There’s no doubt that the talented people will always come up with great poems quickly but this doesn’t mean […]

Scientific American Guest Blog Images « POETICKS

Scientific American Guest Blog Images

Because a few visitors to my guest blog at Scientific American found certain images difficult to read because of their small size, I am posting larger, images with better resolution here.  The following five are from my April 2013 entry.  If you hold down on your Control key, and hit the + button, you can enlarge them.

MonetBoats1-FinalCopy
Note: parts of the triptych are intentionally difficult to read.

MonetBoats2-FinalCopy

 I believe these three works are not so much sequential as different perspectives on Monet’s creative process.

MonetBoats3-FinalCopySmall

I haven’t decided if I’ll call the following an addition to the triptych above or something else.  It is certainly very much related to it. 

MonetBoats4-FinalCopy

The last image is “Mathemaku for Robert Lax, from 2002:

 

Mathemaku4RobertLax

I will continue to post images from my Scientific American blog that need extra resolution.
.

 

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Column008 — September 1994 « POETICKS

Column008 — September 1994

 

 

From A Penny Up

 


Small Press Review, Vol. 26, No. 9, September 1994



 

1CENT, No. 297 & No. 298, April, 1993; 1 p.; Curvd H&Z, 1357
Lansdowne Ave., Toronto, Ontario M6H 3Z9 Canada. $0.50.

Central Park, No. 23, Spring, 1994; 198 pp.; Neword
Productions, Inc., Box 1446, New York NY 10023. $7.50.


For close to ten years, I would guess, jwcurry has been overseeing a series of hand-outs devoted mostly to poetry, but also occasionally to illumagery or prose. Various presses, including his own Curved H&Z, publish the issues, with curry distributing them–at just a penny a copy. Which accounts for the name of the series, 1CENT. Of course, curry also charges a half-a-buck or so for postage, but since he generally mails out several issues in one envelope, the cost for each is rarely more than a quarter.

Most 1Cents are broadsheets or on business cards or the like, but a few are small chapbooks. Production values vary but are usually down&dirty. #297, for instance, is just a 4″ by 5″ piece of paper while #298 consists of two pieces of typewriter-paper stapled together. The issues vary in aesthetic merit, too, but most of them are at least interesting.

#297 contains just three texts: the words, “DYSLEXIC ESSAY:/ too:/ TRANSLATION:,” which are jittered by double-printing; some information about number of copies printed, etc.; and a three-word poem (by “NE”):

MOOM IN VALLEY

Perhaps this is minor but there’s something about it that strongly appeals to me. The suggestion of a half-moon, or obscured full-moon, and its reflection in a pond is part of it. Also the idea of the word for moon’s being corrected! (Because surely “moom” is a better spelling of the word than the conventional one.) Due to its title, the poem also conveys an impression of someone’s immersion into and dyslexically back from rather than linearly straight through the moon.

#298 is “a triple memorial issue for RDHanson, dom sylvester houedard and Joe Singer.” Hanson was a little-known but talented Canadian poet who was only 33 when he died, houedard one of Canada’s–and the world’s–leading pluraesthetic poets, and Singer (who shot himself last year at the age of 42) a publisher/writer well-known in the small press for The Printer’s Devil. The issue includes reminiscences of his dead friends by curry; a news article on houedard; scraps of Hanson’s, houedard’s and Singer’s work; and additional pieces by Gustave Morin, Alberto Rizzo and Rosemary Hollingshead.

I was bowled over by Morin’s cover for #298, which is labeled, “ECOSYSTEM: A FRAGMENT.” Two knife-&-fork settings are shown in it, one large, the other much smaller, and between the knife and fork of the first–which jolts us into taking the settings as upright, with one deep in the distance, and makes us see how the place-settings existence provides for us recede into nothingness.

But the piece is also a quietly devastating satire on man’s irresponsible use and understanding of existence as nothing but a series of meals for human beings, tastefully served up.

Central Park, which is printed on excellent paper and has a glossy, perfect-bound cover, is at the opposite end of the production-value spectrum from 1CENT. It specializes in “forms of thought and feeling that address the most general and pressing concerns of our time, and do so through passionate and/or unpredictable means,” according to its editors. The following are just a few of the fine items it contains:

A refreshingly even-handed and thoughtful discussion of “Political Correctness and Popular Culture” by Robert Stam, who feels that the left should stop looking for correctness of character and text, “and assume instead imperfection and contradiction. A correct left is not only a privileged left, but also . . . a losing left.”

“Counting Sheep,” a poem by Maria L. McLeod that contrasts a “good” wife (who, for example, won’t mind your owning a copy of Playboy) with “I,” who will burn your Playboy and lock you out of the house till you’ve gotten a series of articles into print called, “Pornography: One Link in the Patriarchal Chain of the Victimization of Women.”

A very funny piece of fiction by Jonathan Brannen whose narrator is trying in vain to recall the name of a film someone called C made. He runs through the film’s plot–and plots of others of C’s films. They are all absurd, full of loony situations, and characters like the two women “who live in each other’s bodies.”

Excellent criticism by Stephen-Paul Martin, Kirpal Gordon, Susan Smith Nash and others. And . . .


 

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NewBlog Entries « POETICKS

NewBlog Entries

Bob Grumman’s po-X-cetera Blog

The Past Week’s Entries

22 October 2009: The following essay on d. a. levy (from #574) is either a review I wrote for the May 1992 issue of Small Press Review (my copy of which I seem to have lost) or an expansion of it I later did. Whichever, I think I did a pretty good job on it, although no levy scholar has paid any attention whatever to it:

d.a. levy, Pioneer in Visio-Textual Art
Zen Concrete & Etc.
by d.a. levy, edited by Ingrid Swanberg. 245 pp; 1991; Pa;
ghost pony press, 2518 Gregory St., Madison WI 53711. $29.50 ppd.

The initial charm of this nicely-produced, richly-illustrated large book is the immediacy with which it brings the sixties to life, at least for anyone who spent his twenties there, as I did. Just about everything of the era is in it: the sometimes jejune but always impassioned and compassionate politics; the sometimes jejune but always free-ranging and committed devotion to art; the struggles over obscenity, complete with busts; marijuana and various psychedelic drugs; the paraphernalia both physical and mental of exotic Oriental religions; and the wonderful, if sometimes frazzling, sense of everything’s coming to fruition at once.
Almost always an implicit or louder part of the textual poems that make up about half the book are the politics of the time, as in his “Suburban Monastery Death Poem,” for example, where he writes, “Really/ the police try to protect/ the banks – and everything else/ is secondary,” or in his four “visualized prayers to the American God,” which are comprised mainly of dollar signs.

The devotion to art is burstingly there in the sheer amount of poems and collages in the book, particularly considering that they are a mere selection from the ouevre of a man who died at 26.

As for the obscenity wars, they explode in the excellent over-view from the early seventies of levy’s life provided by Douglas Blazek. Twice, according to Blazek, levy was arrested for distributing obscene poems. AND THIS COURT HAS A RIGHT TO PROTECT KIDS FROM THIS KIND OF FILTH FOR THE SAKE OF FILTH AND NOTHING ELSE as one of the judges involved thoughtfully put it. Levy was clearly a victim of persecution, for one of his arrests was for publishing a poem by a minor that contained the word, “fuck,” in it. Although levy was never convicted of the charges against him, the persecution took its toll on him and certainly contributed to his eventually killing himself.

Drugs are only peripherally in levy’s poems and collages, but get more attention from levy’s friend, the poet D. R. Wagner, whom the book’s editor, Ingrid Swansen, interviews, and in the personal reminiscences of levy by Kent Taylor, as well as in a wonderfully black-humored fragment from a radio talk show featuring levy and a few of his friends which ends with a woman caller’s saying, “I think the boys are absolutely right! I think it’s great! Why don’t we all just bug out, and we’ll see who provides the groceries, and makes the shoes…” with Levy interrupting by asking who needs shoes and the host’s observing that levy is wearing a pair.

Buddhism permeates levy’s poetry and collages, though in tension with his propensity for agitation and despair. As for the sense of going-somewhere that the sixties symbolized for so many, it is there not only in levy’s poems and collages, but in the descriptions of his publishing (via offset and then mimeo), his organizing of and contributions to poetry readings, his leaving free copies of books he’d published at public libraries, and selling them on the street, and all his interactions with people like Ed Sanders and Allen Ginsberg.

By now it should be apparent that a signal virtue of this book is its bringing levy himself, through his friends’ reminiscenses of him, to life. Literary Biography and Social Document– as just these two things alone, Zen Concrete is well worth buying. But its greatest value is as a collection of levy’s art.

That begins with Zen Concrete, 1967, which consists of a sequence of what levy called “experiments in destructive writing.” Its first page contains something that apparently was a poem, but all its letters have been blacked out. Trivial? Perhaps. But considered as a kind of drawing of literary process, it begins to say more than On one level it says not of silence but of silenced writing–and this no doubt refers, in part, to the attempt of the police in Cleveland to silence levy as a poet by twice arresting him for purveying obscenity. But it also speaks of the poet’s disappointment with his medium. Also, the canceled words look like they’re seeping larger, flowing toward the paper’s edge, or even misting upward off it, into subtler expression. Other things that cross the mind: that some portions of the poem are only lightly scratched out, and others heavily, and passionately, defaced suggests the poem’s personality–as does its still apparent shape. As a composition its author turned against, it is amusing, too, particularly at its start, where lines between lines had to be canceled–as if the poet, dissatisfied with his effort first tried to rewrite the beginning of it, then gave up. The title, “Selected Writings,” which is left unmarked at the top of the page with levy’s name and the year of composition, suggests something of the artist’s sardonic self-contempt for his presuming to work up an Ouevre out of matter better blacked out.

But the piece is most important for setting up levy’s series as a whole. The second work in it, “Totem,” consists of more blacked out lines of print, but with a little oval sun added off to the left, and the text reversed (due, d.r. wagner informs us in an interview included in the book, to levy’s practice of “backfeeding” pages through his mimeograph). Most of the text is in a narrow, irregular column, and looks like a totem pole. But not all the letters in the thing have been blacked out. The result? Words in the process of going against themselves, and into self- obliteration in an act of worship? Or the reverse: letters backing out of a dying act of worship and on their way toward asensual pragmatism as normal words? Both, I contend–into a tension of opposed magics.

In the third segment of levy’s sequence cut-up texts are superimposed on a silenced text; one of the additions concerns Cambodian statues of the Buddha; another is a snippet that contains just the word, “(dharma).” The main addition, however, is an upside-down text, mostly blackened out. But scraps of material remain readable: “come,” “gain refuge” and “they didn’t,” among them in the upside-down portion; “red walls” “as twilight formed” and “staring at” in the rightside-up text it covers. Many meanings are possible: a world of words and orientations going meaningless, but with havens preserved within? And of course more than a hint of the salvation of levy’s brand of Zen. So, like many poets after him such as Doris Cross, John Stickney, Greg Evason, jwcurry and Tom Phillips, levy is here silencing a given text down to some poetic or otherwise aesthetically meaningful essence.

As the sequence continues levy adds more and more subteties, e.g., a half-page with just a few scattered fragments of illegible words above a text on . . . the Beginning, which opposes a page whose silenced text looks like a brick wall. As a whole, Zen Concrete becomes a treatise on the Varieties of Disintegration and Ressurection, as well as a visual poem one can go back to as often as one can to the best paintings.

A year later levy was adding visual cut-outs from girlie magazines, books of reproductions of Buddhist statues and other artworks, and elsewhere, while building on his techniques of textual destruction and collage for even richer though sometimes disorganized-seeming work that looks contemporary, and has had a wide if not yet academically- acknowledged influence on the best visual poets of the present..

Meanwhile he was turning out visio-textual work of an elegance that almost seems slick. Ny favorite of these appears to be something clipped from a Greek newspaper. Three circles of equal diameter have been collaged over the clipping, and two more circles of the same size drawn intersecting two of them. One of the first set of circles contains blown-up Greek lettering in white on a black ground; a second has similar lettering in black on a white ground. The texts are perpendicular to the clipping’s text. The third of the cut-out circles is mostly blank, with just a shade of small disappearing lettering. Some dots, a dotted line, a solid line and a bent line have also been drawn on the work to suggest, for me, some kind of geometric analysis.

What to make of such a jumble? I’m not sure. But I find all kinds of hints of antiquity versus the ultra-modern field that particle physics, with its extensive re-use of greek lettering, is; headline-topicality versus details of Final Importance that are turning away and rising from them. Platonic ideals.

As a textual poet, levy was not as significant or groundbreaking as he was in what I call “pluraesthetic art” to mean art that is meaningful in more than one aesthetic way, as visual poetry is expressive both as words and as visual images. An early extended poem, “Cleveland undercovers,” is mostly angry stream of consciousness near-prose in the manner of Ginsberg’s “Howl” about levy’s hometown, and perhaps greatest obsession, for he wrote about it constantly, and could not seem to leave it for more than a month or two at a time, in spite of the growing attentions of the police. But some of its lines have a poetic flare, for example, “i have a city to cover with lines,/ with textured words &/ the sweaty brick-flesh images of a/ drunken tied-up whorehouse cowtown/ sprawling & brawling on its back.” He was only 23 or 24 when he wrote it. Others of his longer poems are as energetic, and solider. My favorite of them (at the moment), “Warriors Rest,” performs all kinds of incantatory, surrealistic zigs on the idea of a “Spade Queen” as playing card, queen of night, queen of death, black woman, whose “dark dancing is/ a shadow moving across/ the moon at dusk,” versus a warrior’s white horses, and other whites until “later the shadows/ of new sun dances/ enter her mind/ like frightened moons// in the morning smoke/ like black bridges to cross.”

There is so much more to be said, but, oh, the Cleveland of space considerations! So I will end with my conviction that it would be no disservice to Keats, one of my greatest heroes, to describe d.a. levy as his 20th-Century American equivalent.

In #575, I passed on an anouncement P. R. Primeau and Geof Huth had posted for an anthology called The Ghetto of Concretism devoted to concrete poetry of the strictest sort–nothing but textual symbols, for instance. I don’t know what came of this project or whether I submitted anything to it. Geof, like me, is great at coming up with project ideas like this that don’t go far.
After an entry in which I posted Klee’s The Villa R and boilerplated on and on about what kind of work it was, I reported in #577, that my Merriam Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary defined “eme” as “significantly distinctive unit of language structure.” Ergo, all the “eme” neologisms I’d recently come up with (“texteme,” for instance, for “unit of language structure having to do with textual material”) were as clear and reasonable as such words can be!

This led to the following list of coinages in #577 through #580 (inspired by “morpheme” and “grapheme”):

“techneme” for technical term having to do with language.

“enhanceme” for

“denoteme” for verbal element that denotes.

“connoteme” for verbal element that denotes. (Yes, one word can be two or more emes.) “rhetoriceme” (soft c) for rhetorical element.

“paralleleme” for verbal element that is part of a parallelism.

“poetreme” for unit of poetry.

“repeneme” (an old one) for repeated textual element–such as the alliterative l in the text, “loony lout.”

Eventually, the list changed to one concern with varieties of schemes present in poems:

“poetic scheme” for any possible way a poem can be shaped as a scheme consisting of the units defining the shape–e.g., rhyme scheme. A texteme scheme will use x’s or the equivalent to show where each texteme in a poem is. Or x’s and X’s, to indicate size. A linguexpressive poem’s texteme scheme would be its overall abstract shape. A poem in general’s “aestheme” scheme would be its overall abstract shape. Right now it seems to me that the only other consequential schemes linguexpressive poetry uses are repeneme schemes. Visimagistic schemes, color schemes and the like would come into play in visual poetry, and musical schemes for sound poetry, and so forth.

I decided that now that I had the terms, “poetic scheme,” and “poetreme,” I could get around the form/content problem by stating, simply, that every poem consists of just two fundamental things: poetic schemes and poetremes. All these term will make more sense when I get around to making an essay of the material in #558 through #568 and #571 through #573. Note: I do believe I have more than I need–and that one or more may be ridiculous.

23 October 2009: Last night I had another of my moments of Important Versophical Insight. It came upon me that aesthetic pleasure, while necessarily sensory pleasure, could also (but needn’t) be narrative and/or conceptual pleasure. A work of art may also give an engagent moral pleasure, but it needn’t, and I claim that such pleasure is different from aesthetic pleasure. Indeed, if the moral effect of a work purported to be an artwork is greater than its aesthetic effect, it cannot be called an artwork but must be called a work of advocature–because its main function will be to persuade rather than to delight.
As always, I am bemused by how brilliant I consider a thought of mine–and at the same time embarrassedly wonder why it took me so long (decades) to come up with so banal and obvious a one.

(I hope Karl Kempton, who criticized me for excessive use of neologies in my discussion of aesthetics reads this and sees that while I could have called “sensory, narrative and conceptual pleasure” “initiaceptual, sagaceptual and reducticeptual pleasure,” to connect it to my theory of psychology, I didn’t. “Narrative pleasure,” by the way, is simply the pleasure stories of people, or animals or things acting like people, as they pursue some goal and succeed or fail to attain it. “Conceptual pleasure” is the pleasure pure ideas can give one, and pure design.

Now, back to my still ongoing project to #583 for “paramorpheme,” meaning “textual element other than morpheme, such as a punctuation mark, to add the list of “eme” words I expect all my visitors to have copied.

Next, the following piece, which is by Nico Vassilakis, was in two of my entries, #581 and #582:


In #584 I observed, unbrilliantly but correctly, that the (necessary) jargon or any original verosophical undertaking should be introduced gradually. In my next entry I showcased Andrew Russ’s most excellent

lst
last
then an entry trivial even for me on terminology followed by one where I cross swords with Marcus Bales again–actually, it was more Kaz Maslanka crossing swords with him on my behalf at New-Poetry, for Marcus was attacking my math poetry.

In #588 I discussed my struggle to find a term meaning, “text that has been poetically misspelled,” finally coming up with “errographism”–“air RAH gruh FIZ ‘m.” I reported that I’d changed the remainder of my division of poetry by metaphor to “forsythia” in #589, and noted that a selection of my Poem poems Mary Veazey had posted at her Sticks site had gotten a nicely favorable (and, I thought, intelligent) review from Particle in Light. Finally, in #590, I wrote scornfully of a statement of Pound’s, “Take a man’s mind off the human value of the poem he is reading (and in this case the human value is the art value), switch it on to some question of grammar and you begin his dehumanization.” Jeff Newberry had posted it at New-Poetry, asking us to guess who wrote it. I didn’t know, and was very disappointed to find out Pound had said it, but opined that it probably made more sense in context than it did by itself, and that although Pound said a lot of stupid things, I still considered him one of the very few people every who had written intelligently about poetry.

24 October 2009: My next set of ten entries began with one reporting that I’d returned to my “Arithmepoetic Analysis of Color” sequence to good effect, determining all the terms of one (the division of orange), and a good half of the terms of the second (the division of green). That was slightly more than four years ago, but I haven’t yet even begun to finish either of these. Typically. I added a few further comments on the unfinished pieces in my next entry, along with an epigram of sorts: “Give me a religion in which reverence is mandatory, kneeling forbidden.”
In the next entry, #593, I said I believed many of my most important life-moments have occurred when I’ve been in books. I would now amend that to “Many of my most important and happiest moments have occurred when I’ve been in a work of literature, someone else’s or my own.” Many of my other hapiest and important moments have occurred when I’ve been in some other form of art. In other words, I was meant for a kind of sub-life, not life. I have a few happy, important moments in real life, too–but not many.

#594 has some works by Tommaso Marinetti I stole from a website I was directed to by Karl Kempton. It would seem that Marinetti was as important for the introduction of modern visual poetry as Apollinaire, but coming out of visual rather than verbal art. (Note, running into Karl’s name in this entry reminded me of how valuable a follower of my blog he’s been over its five plus years–however upset with each other we’ve sometimes been.)

In my next entry I posted a 1914 piece by another Futurist, Carlo Carra:

Carra is someone I hadn’t heard of, or had heard of but forgotten. Great piece, although it seems to me a textual visimage rather than a visual poem. Words, yes–but no genuine verbality.
I seem at the time of these entries, September 2005, to have begun work on a serious essay on Cummings–which I discussed a bit in #596, mentioning the “mimeostream” as where the influence of Cummings has been most decisive, albeit not as acknowledged as it should be. I featured Eustorg de Beaulieu’s pattern poem, “Gloire à dieu seul” (1537), in my next blog, stealing it and some cogent remarks on it from Geof Huth’s blog. I sketched my impression that pattern poems like de Beaulieu’s were not concrete poems because significantly more literary than concrete poems. I quoted Karl’s disagreement with what he thought me to be saying in #598, clarifying my stand to the observation that classical concrete poems like Gomringer’s “Silence,” almost never contain textual elements which, by themselves, would add up to anything close to a poem, and therefore seem significantly different from classical pattern poems like George Herbert’s “Altar,” which contain textual elements that, by themselves, almost always add up to full-scale poems. Even de Beaulieu’s is a full sentence, “Glory (be) to God alone,” which makes it linguistically larger than any concrete poem I can think of, offhand. But I suspect Karl misread me to be saying pattern poems weren’t visual poems, which I was not.

In #598 I also returned to my Cummings essay, posting what I said about stasguards’ opinion of Cummings’s influence, to wit: “As for Collins, Kenner and the other mainstream poets and critics, and professors who have rated Cummings uninfluential, I think their condition due in good part simply to their lack of sympathy for his poetry. Many academics are bothered by his romantic individualism, frequent sentimentality, and–to them–narrow interests (in spring, stars and flowers, for instance). They tend also to be too verbal to appreciate the visual aspects of his poetry, and too techniphobic to have much interest in the nuts and bolts of poetry beyond such long-familiar nuts and bolts as rhyme and meter.

“Even were mainstreamers capable of sympathy for Cummings’s work, though, they would have trouble tracing its influence on contemporary poetry (because of their ignorance of the mimeostream).”

I’m now going to re-post the chapter from my Of Manywhere-at-Once that dealt with my theory of aesthetics in my ridiculously continuing hope that someone intelligent will see it and take it seriously enough to discuss it with me:

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A Rough Sketch of my Theory of Aesthetic Affect–from circa 1990

Back in the spring of my 26th year I was mulling over an article I’d read somewhere on memory when I became convinced that to understand memory would be to understand the entire workings of the human mind.. I have therefore over the years spent much time thinking about memory. In fact, in an earlier draft of this chapter, I used several pages to describe the theory that resulted, certain it would provide, in the most dazzling manner possible, the Final Neurophysiological Basis for all I’ve so far said about poetry, and all I would later say. Well, those pages so baffled the readers of my first final draft–and me as weIl, if the truth be known–that I decided to withdraw them. They will, however, reappear (revised) in a later book. I can’t remain entirely silent about my theory, though. Otherwise my forthcoming discussion of aaaesthetic affect, and how it relates to poetry, will make little sense.

So, on to the “master-cells” (or “m-cells”) in the brain which my theory places at the center of the human memory-process (or “retroception”). These cells are connected to sensors, such as the light-sensitive rods and cones in the retina, which are turned on by exposure to certain environmental stimuli. Once on, a sensor activates its m-cell, whereupon the m-cell distributes energy to other m-cells (and, occasionally, back to itself). This m-cell-to-m-cell energy can also activate an m-cell. Whenever an m-cell is active, the mind will experience its state as a sensation. The sensation arising from a given m-cell’s activation will always be the same sensation, a sensation unique to it. That will be the case whether the cell has been activated by sensor or m-cell energy. I call sensor-mediated sensations “percepts,” however, to distinguish them from m-cell- mediated sensations, which I call, “retrocepts.” (A given sensation’s context is generally what the mind uses to tell whether the sensation is one or the other, I might add.)

Many, perhaps most, percepts and retrocepts occur randomly and transiently. But some tend to occur together often enough for the m-cells responsible for them to form what I call a “knowlecule” (or “NAH luh kyool”). A knowlecule is a cerebral representation of some significant piece of knowledge such as the image of a car, a cat, an apple or one’s Aunt Jenny–or, for that matter, the idea of knowledge itself.

For my purposes here, the main thing to understand, is that a knowlecule is a unified group of m-cells that can be perceptually or retroceptually activated (or both), whereupon it will transmit stimulation to other knowlecules in an attempt to activate them as memories. It does this via a chain of storage-cells (s-cells) called the “mnemoduct” which is responsible for routing m-cell stimulation. How it does this is, of course, the crux of my theory–but too complicated to get into here. It isn’t necessary to know anything about it to follow my theory of aesthetic affect, anyway.

According to that theory, each knowlecule, in effect, tries to predict what will follow it in the awareness. Its success in doing so determines how pleasurably, or painfully, one experiences what actually follows. If a given knowlecule predicts what ensues too strongly, the result will be boredom; if it fails to predict it strongly enough, the result will be pain. If it predicts it neither too strongly nor too weakly, however, pleasure will result.

For example, if I heard the name “Laura,” those of my m-cells active as a result might try to rouse a memory of my niece Laura’s appearance; they would do this by sending energy to cells involved in imaging blue eyes and the other main particulars of my niece’s visual appearance. Three outcomes would then be possible: (l) the energy the auditory knowlecule, “Laura,” caused to be dispersed could succeed in activating a memory; (2) that energy could fail to do this but the environment present a picture of Laura, or the girl in person, and I would experience an image of Laura anyway; or (3) both the energy and the environment together could fail to provide me with an image of Laura. I would, to summarize, remember what Laura looks like, or be shown, or neither. In cases (1) and (2) the spoken word “Laura” would, in a manner of speaking, have predicted the visual image of Laura which followed. The probable result would be pleasure. In case (3), however, the word would have failed to predict what followed it and I would probably have experienced pain.

I have, of course, grossly over-simplified the matter. The word “Laura” would undoubtedly have tried for many more memories than that of Laura’s visual appearance, and some of them would undoubtedly have become active. On the other hand, any image of Laura that came into my awareness would not likely have exactly matched what was “predicted” if certain cells would have gotten energy but failed to become active. And the environment would certainly have contained elements unlooked for which would have added unpredicted material to what I experienced. All that is unimportant, however: if a given knowlecule sufficiently resembles the one the knowlecule just before it “predicted,” the person involved will experience pleasure; if not, the person will experience pain, or some state in between pleasure and pain. If a knowlecule is too like what the previous knowlecule predicted, though, the result will be boredom.

To account for this in more detail I hypothesize the existence of value-points of which there are two kinds: “realization-points” and “frustration-points,” or r-points and f-points. Each m-cell that receives retroceptual energy (or m-cell energy) during a given event (or instant of awareness) will release r-points or f-points depending on whether or not it is activated during the next event. (Whether it then becomes active retroceptually or perceptually, or both, incidentally, is irrelevant.) The number of value-points produced will be proportional to the amount of retroceptual energy involved.

The key to my theory is that the aaaesthetic affect produced by a given knowlecule depends simply on the value-points it causes to be produced. First a brain-center determines the number of the two kinds of value-points caused by the knowlecule’s activation, then what percentage of this number consists of realization-points. If this percentage is high, the knowlecule under consideration must be boring–because a very high score indicates that it was expected–or predictable. On the other hand, if the score is low, the moment is painful, because such a score indicates the knowlecule was unexpected–or disruptive. It is only a score neither too high nor too low which causes pleasure–a score (and this is only a guess) between 50 and 60 percent, perhaps. There is one further way a person can feel about an knowlecule: indifferent. This will occur when a score is either higher or lower than optimum but neither so high nor so low as to cause boredom or pain.

To sum up, my theory of aaesthetic affect is that we automatically consider that which is too familiar to be boring, that which is familiar but not too familiar to be pleasurable, and that which is unfamiliar to be painful, and that there are levels of familiarity between the boring and the pleasurable, and between the pleasurable and the painful, which are emotionally neutral–and, I might add, probably occur far more often than any other kind.

All this, it seems to me, fits in with the fact that human beings tend to withdraw from that which is painful, shun the boring, and advance toward that which is pleasurable. If, as my theory has it, it is the under-familiar which is painful, it would make sense to withdraw from it: better to retreat from something until one has come to understand it–i.e., become familiar with it–then chance its being dangerous. It is equally sensible to embrace the familiar since, if something were not good for us, it could not generally become familiar– it would injure or kill us first. But if we stuck with the familiar too slavishly, we would never work out cultural improvements or zestfully explore our habitat; hence the value of the over-familiar’s causing boredom.

As for my theory’s fit with everyday experience, surely it is a rare person who has never heard some song he considered ear-damagingly bad which, when he’d heard it a few more times, turned into a favorite of his. . . only to become, after he’d heard it too many hundreds of additional times, boring beyond endurance. Tschaikowski affects most reasonably intelligent admirers of classical music this way, but there are sundry other examples. My theory similarly accounts for the importance of simple repetition in all the arts–such as the use of symmetry in architecture, repeated phrases throughout music, from popular songs to Mozart, and the recurrence of steps in dance routines. As it also provides a plausible explanation of the pleasurable effects of simple melodation like rhyme’s repetition–and the avoidance of repetition by equaphors (metaphors and the like).

This set of ten entries from the past ended with one devoted to Richard Kostelanetz’s fascinating mathematical (but not visual) poem below:


25 October 2009: The following poem, which I had in #601, having returned to my Cummings essay, seems to me about as good as a poem can be:

dim  i  nu  tiv    e this park is e  mpty(everyb  ody's elsewher  e except me 6 e    nglish sparrow  s)a  utumn & t  he rai    n  th  e  raintherain  

It’s from 95 Poems. I wonder if it was influenced by Robert Lax–or influenced Robert Lax. What an intense mood it expresses–appropriately of almost anything you find that mood to be. Loneliness, sure–but equally a wonderful sense of solitude . . . in a crowded city . . . rendered as near to one with Nature by the rain as one can normally be.
Another semi-amazing math poem (if that indeed is what it is, and I think it is) by Richard Kostelanetz took up most of #602:


In #603 I posted a quotation from Charles Olson that indicated he had read and made a fairly close study of E. E. Cummings, which for me was good evidence that he was influenced by Cummings, as I have always been claimed, without convincing any language poet, so far as I know. I had the following in both #604 and #605, with a few comments on why I thought it under the influence (in part) of Cummings:

P. INMAN    from OCKER          debris clud                           (sbrim               	 m,nce                  (nome,id                           (armbjor,         (droit,cur.  

Next up, an announcement that a college textbook called, Literature: Reading, Reacting, Writing, Sixth Edition, by Laurie G. Kirszner & Stephen R. Mandell, and published by Wasworth College Publishers, wanted permission to reprint my “Mathemaku No. 10.” I told them they could print it free of chargbe if they sent me a copy of the book. They eventually used it, but never sent me the book. I finally bought a second-hand copy over the Internet.
In #607 I floated a few inconsequential ideas about poetic influence and originality, then displayed a poem by Stephen-Paul Martin that I think was a descendent of Cummings’s poetry in #608 and made some minor comments in #609 on the correct classification of a work by Karl Young next. Then in #610 came:


which is a poem of mine whose final point I no longer understand. When I composed it, I thought the zero to the power of zero which made it equal one in the final instance of “poem” was brilliant, but it now makes no sense at all to me. That happens quite a bit with me, sometimes because of a short circuit while composing a poem that makes me think it super, sometimes a later short circuit that prevents me from understanding a brilliance actually there. I’m pretty sure it’s the former in this case.

26 October 2009: At eleven this morning, a little over three hours from now, I’ll be in a hospital awaiting minor surgery on my urinary bladder. Chances are good that’ll I’ll be back home by five or six. I don’t feel much like writing a real entry now, though, and doubt I will if I’m back this evening. I have to ride to a supermarket for milk before going to the hospital, too. So this will be it for this entry.
LATEST ENTRY 27October 2009: Well, luck wasn’t with me at the hospital: I had to spend the night there. Not only that: I’ll be wearing a Foley catheter for a week, and am forbidden tennis for two weeks. I’m also Very Tired. But the surgery went well, there was just more scar tissue to slice out of me than the surgeon thought there would be. And I’m home now. I’m not up to saying more here than this, though. Tomorrow I should be.

DAILY ENTRIES

Selected Mathemaku, 2004 – 2009

Doing Long Division of Poetry.

Essays by Bob Grumman.
Contents of this Site © 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009 by Bob Grumman

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Column093 — May/June 2009 « POETICKS

Column093 — May/June 2009




The State of North American Vizpo, Part One

 


Small Press Review,
Volume 41, Numbers 5/6, May/June 2009




      Poetry, Volume 193, Issue 2, November 2008
      Edited by Christian Wiman
      100 pp; 444 N. Michigan Ave., Ste.1850,
      Chicago IL 60611. $5.50 ppd./copy.

 


 

Is visual poetry and related art finally beginning to get its due in our country? Possibly. Last November Poetry, the leading mainstream American poetry periodical, published a gallery of thirteen specimens of such work edited by Geof Huth. At around the same time, three anthologies of such work have appeared. I therefore thought a relatively detailed overview of the field might be in order, starting with a tour of the Poetry gallery.

Those with work in it are Huth himself, mIEKAL aND, K.S. Ernst and Sheila E. Murphy working as a team, derek beaulieu, Peter Ciccariello, Bob Dahlquist, Jesse Patrick Ferguson, Scott Helmes, Joel Lipman, gustave morin, jorg piringer, Philip Gallo and Michael Basinski. Huth’s piece is technically not part of the gallery, but given a page (front and back) as the gallery’s cover illustration. It’s just a mildly pleasant piece of graphic design in black&white using the letters in its title, “jHegaf.” Grade? C+.

aND composed his piece out of (white) typography some forgotten scholar once invented to use to represent a variety of Amerindian language on a black background. The result I would also call just a “textscape,” but it is suggestive of an undeciphered ancient artifact, so conceptually a little more interesting than the Huth piece. Rating: B-. “Vortextique,” by Ernst and Murphy is a wonderfully loud-colored dazzler of text-like elements flung every which way with just one word, “vortex,” in it–as an embedded title. Rating: A-.

The piece by beaulieu makes up for its lack of color by sizzling with sounds (e.g., “sssss” and “rrrrr”). It is the first of the pieces verbal enough (although barely verbal) to call a visual poem. I give it an A-. The same grade goes to Ciccariello’s fine “The Disremembered Glossalist.” As in nearly all the works of Ciccariello’s I’ve seen, some kind of extremely three-dimensional, gorgeously-colored terrain is overlain (via some kind of clever computer manipulations) with an originally-readable text whose letters follow the contours of the scene in and out of visibility to become basically averbal.

Another monochromatic piece follows Ciccariello’s, Dahlquist’s “alwaysendeavor.” It has two layers of the text, “ALWAYS ENDEAVOR TO FIND INTERESTING NOTATION,” one of which is printed in reverse exactly on top of the other. It is interesting and amusing (especially for those who like puzzles as much as I)–what I’d call a conceptual linguiscape. B+ (not higher because a bit low in visual appeal, in my view). “Mama,” by Ferguson, is a bunch of e’s (hence barely verbal, like beaulieu’s piece–and morin’s) but vividly expressive. For Huth (who annotates all the pieces in the gallery), it is expressive of a child’s warbling cry, for me that plus a child on a roller-coaster ride (because one large e swoops up and then slight down like a roller coaster and seems to fling another e upward, like a roller coaster . . . and/or a mother, propel–ling a child into a higher life (or just into life). In any case, something to think about and feel: A-.

One of the two pieces in the collection I give an A+ to is Helmes’s “haiku #62,” a vivid collage of snippings of magazine ads patterned to suggest a haiku in shape, its colors and shape and hints of words suggesting a haiku’s tone. My other A+ favorite is Joel Lipman’s excerpt from Origins of Poetry. It consists of three layers. The one on the bottom seems to be a page from an old physics textbook that describes experiments with electric charges. A second, framing layer consists of repeated rubber-stampings in red of some ideograph that seems Asian. On top of the other two is a text rubber-stamped in black giving the text of a poem that seems a sort of paraphrase of one of the experiments described in layer one but also directions for the performance of a magic trick. Its title is “Origins of Poetry,” its final words, “Leaves will diverge and flower.” To me, a masterpiece as both poem and visual artwork. As well as the two interacting, multiply-interacting.

“toon tune,” by morin, is a collage of 63 toon-hued fragments of comic-book exclamations like “Aaaarrrrrgh,” and “Whoooosh.” Blastfully successful in capturing its subject, and as a work of visual art. A. The piringer piece that follows morin’s is the one I fear I liked least: a black&white depiction of a pile of junk, each piece of which is a letter. That the letters are from The Communist Manifesto doesn’t make it resonate for me–all I needed was the concept fully to get it; no visualization was necessary. C. I didn’t much care for Gallo’s black&white conceptual piece, either. “PING PONG et tu ut DITERROT,” it spells, first rightside up, then upside-down. Nice bit of typographic design, but I’m less taken by that kind of thing than Huth is. C. The final work in the gallery (although one is directed to an Internet gallery I haven’t been to for additional works) is Basinski’s wacked-out “Labile.” There are words in it, but mostly it’s a “cacaphony of text and shape,” as Huth has it. Vivid colors, too. Of the many possible appropriate things it could be, the one that hit me first is a swirl of mostly nonsensical babble through a room a cocktail party is at its peak in, seen from above. Very much a fun piece to which I award an A.

It remains to be seen whether Poetry is serious about giving visual poetry and related art a boost or has just tokened it in briefly so it can claim to be open to everything. If the former, it needs reviews of books of such work, and intelligent critical discussion of the field in general as well as continued specimens of it in its pages. In any case, I cannot deny that it has done those of us involved with this kind of art a favor by exposing its readers to this quite good representative sampling of what we’ve been doing near-invisibly for so long.

 

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Column069 — November/December 2004 « POETICKS

Column069 — November/December 2004



 

Hydrocodone/APAP

 


Small Press Review,
Volume 36, Numbers 11/12, November/December 2004





The Compact Duchamp Amp After Amp.
Guy R. Beining. 70 pp; 2003; Pa;
Chapultepec Press, 111 East University,
Cincinnati OH 45219.
www.tokyoroserecords.com. $23.

Farrago, 2/4, 2001.
Edited by Reed Altemus. 128 pp;
Reed Altemus, Box 52,
Portland ME 04112. $10.

Modern Haiku, Volume 35, Number 3, Autumn 2004.
Edited by Lee Gurga. 128 pp;
Modern Haiku, Box 68, Lincoln IL 62656. $8.


 

I’ve decided to write this column in one hour or less. A weekend I meant to finish the column in is almost over, and I’ve done nothing on it but list the material to be discussed, so something has to be done. I figure if I can make a game of let’s see how fast I can do it, it’ll be fun to do. More important, I can claim it was just an experiment in speed- writing in case it’s stinko. Its title comes into it because that’s the name of the pain pill I’m on. It was prescribed a little over a week ago for a toothache, but I only needed it for a few days. I felt so good last Sunday after taking it, though, and felt so crappy (psychologically) earlier today that it made sense to take it again. I think the pill must have some kind of barbiturate in it, because it doesn’t just blot out pain, it makes you feel . . . content. (Hey, I did have a bit of a headache, too.)

The pill got me feeling so content just thinking about how fast I’d write this column that I almost never started it. I did, though! Sorta. ***

Aaaarggggghh, I was cruisin’ but all of a sudden I need a bridge and can’t think of one! I want to make a few remarks on Hurricane Jeanne, which hit my neighborhood a few weeks ago. From my last column you will remember that my neighborhood got blasted fairly substantially by Charley. Jeanne was nicer to us, staying a reasonable distance away. But she messed up my mind by lasting hours and hours–during the night when I couldn’t see what she was doing, just hear her, and she sounded a lot like Charley. I now understand shell-shock.

The first exposure wasn’t so bad, but–once sensitized–reminders, even faint, can devastate. Result: I slept very badly the night of Jeanne, and got knocked back out of rhythm–after almost getting back into it, finally, after Charley. Obviously, I’m still not back in it, but– hey–this column is almost half done, and I’ve only been typing twenty minutes or so. Never found a damned bridge, though. I hate that. I also hate the fact that I use “though” so much. Dunno how to avoid it. Well, aside from just not using it.

Okay, first up for review is the mail-art publication, Farrago. An assemblage, which means a bunch of people each sent Editor Altemus a hundred copies of a page and he collated the pages into 100 copies of an anthology. I assume he accepted everything sent. That’s usually the way it works. In any case, Farrago (alas, the last one he’ll do), is very encouraging about the state of vizpo and related art, for its level of yow is surprisingly high. The pieces are mainly collages. Mainly playful Dadaisms. Like Robert Pomerhn’s (yes, that’s spelled correctly) “Mainstream TRENDY Viewing,” to take a random example, which is a mix of texts like “If Britney’s bOObtube goes bust/ say Sayonara Ms. Spears” and fuzzy graphics that look like stills from B-movies. The other side of his page depicts “The Surrealist World Series,” by showing the “bags loaded” with Louis Aragon, Antonin Artaud and Philippe Soupault, and Dali coming to bat. Dopey, I know, but . . . Other pages do other things, some of them wonderfully using full color.

I’m reviewing the latest issue of Modern Haiku only because of Charles Trumbull’s review. It’s of Ampersand Squared, Geof Huth’s anthology of “pwoermds” that I recently mentioned in this column, flagrantly breaking all kinds of reviewing proprieties because I published the thing, and have two pwoermds in it. Trumbull lauded Huth’s introduction, and quoted four of the pwoermds, including Nicholas Virgilio’s “fossilence,” which I think a particularly fine specimen of the genre. When I first saw it, I thought of phosphorescence and thought of the glow through the ages of fossils. Only just now did I see “silence.” I’m a visual poet so I shoulda seen that before hearing “phosphorescence!”

Seriously, you ain’t serious about haiku if you don’t subscribe to Modern Haiku. Not just haiku and reviews but in-depth interviews and/or discussions of the state of the art. This issue features a conversation with Hoshinaga Fumio that skillfully reveals not only the mind and personality of a distinguished haijin (maker of haiku) and his haiku, but whispers us intimately into the fascinating otherness of the culture of Japan.

My hour is up. I didn’t finish. Well, I could say I finished, but I was aiming at (about) a thousand words, which is my usual total (including the book data at the top). And I do want to mention Guy Beining’s The Compact Duchamp Amp After Amp again. I don’t feel I did it justice in the earlier column I treated it in. Nor will I now. It’s too visual. But here’s what’s on one page: “nail the mOOn/ spike the sun,/ run harvest thru red vest of money,” in a white rectangle. Grey background. Below the text, a “visimage (“picture,” in Grummanese) of two of the Egyptian pyramids and mostly nothing else. Above, to the right a strange image of a woman whose torso forms a triangle mirrored by a similar triangle formed by the woman’s crossing legs, cropped at the knees; to the left, a photo of a smiling girl looking through what seems the back of a chair. Much else. Hard to pin down but fossilescent, to me. My blog has a copy of it with a few further musings here. (Ooops, no longer true; I’ll try to add what I said here eventually.)

There. Finished in eighty minutes. Not bad. And I still have ten hydrocodone/APAP tablets left!

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