Entry 465 — A Long Walk
July 8th, 2011
I walked four miles today. My physical therapist and my surgeon are agreed that I shouldn’t walk more than half a mile. But I had somewhere to go, and have this weird self-belief in my ability to walk. I don’t have the same self-belief in any other physical ability so haven’t done and won’t do anything else I’m not supposed to. I’m not sure what my point is–maybe something about aconceptual knowledge versus conceptual expertise.
But also to explain why I’m too tired to say more, today, about William Logan in the latest issue of New Criterion except that he has finally actually written about a poet I consider avant-garde (albeit, barely), Rae Armantrout. I guess he had to since she’s a Pulitzer Prize winner and has been a member of the Academy of American Poets and otherwise credentialed for quite a while. He pans her, of course. Ignorantly, of course. Okay, semi-ignorantly. The main thing is that he discusses her–for over a page. Bringing the New Criterion briefly up to 1980.
He also discusses Wilbur’s latest, but I only read the part about Armantrout. Tired. I’ll read the rest of Logan’s commentary, though–I read every word of every issue of the New Criterion. I figure it gives me a good anchor in 1950 to sail into newer things from. I truly wish there were a magazine around as good about 2000 as it is about 1950 (and cultural figures repeating it in 2011).
Later Note: The book was Broken English, by Heather McHugh. It showed up. I had left it in the car of the friends who’d driven me home from the healthcare center with a lot of other stuff in a large shopping bag. I guess I’m glad I found it. I’m very glad of the stuff that turned up with it, which included some magazines and two other books that it would have driven me beserk to have looked for and not found. I wasn’t totally stupid, by the way: I called Linda, my ride home, and asked her to check her car.
Entry 464 — A Follow-Up Visit to the Surgeon
July 6th, 2011
I saw my surgeon yesterday. He was very pleased with my progress. But he said it’d be three or four more months before I would be a non-gimp. He had told me before the operation that it’d take two to five months for me to reach that point, so I felt I’d make it in two with hard work, if the operation went well. I’ve worked hard and the operation went well but am not considered likely to be able to do more than I’m doing now, which is walk fast in a straight line, and take care of myself in my home. Sure doesn’t give me much motivation to continue going all-out on my exercise program.
Meanwhile, my old lethargy is still with me. I’ve done a little work on my Shakespeare book since getting home, but not much else. I’m hoping I’m just suffering from the stress any change in one’s circumstances tends to cause, even a good change like getting home from a care facility.
Entry 463 — I’m Home
July 2nd, 2011
Just a note to say I got back from the rehab center yesterday, and after putting the stuff I brought home with me away, walked a mile–at a blazing 3 miles and hour. But I’m not allowed to go much faster. Running will be forbidden for another week. Not allowed to twist, either. I’m supposedly ahead of schedule. I feel good about my progress. I feel good about most everything, in fact.
Had a therapist make a house call yesterday. He gave me some exercises that seem good ones. Gotta do two of them once an hour, though, so I’ve been busy. Also walked another mile and did some writing.
More tomorrow, I hope.
Entry 462 — A New Saying
June 27th, 2011
Criticism of criticism: the mediocrity’s primary defense against being found out.
Entry 461 — The Latest from the Rehab Center
June 19th, 2011
I guess it’s about ime I posted another entry. Not much going on here. I had hoped to be home from now–was making good progress with my physical therapy. The a setback: my surgical incision was infected. Result: an IV anti-biotic has been administered to me each day for the past five days. Five more round of it, then I get to go home, assuming it has worked, and all signs are that it will have.
I was pretty disgusted. So much time going by with little or nothing accomplished, even compared to some of my recent poor days at home. Then I remembered a chore I could do here: posting all my Small Press Review columns here at my new blog, something I’ve been meaning to do for some time. It’s been hard getting them properly formatted, but I’m getting them much more quickly posted now than when I did four days or so ago when I started the chore. They are in the Pages, under “Bob Grumman’s Small Press Review Columns,” 21 so far, but I hope to add a few more today.
I’ve read most of them as I posted them, relieved to find they seem pretty good to me. I hope to published two books of them, with commentary. They remain about the only published commentary on avant garde poetry anywhere in this country as far as I know.
Entry 460 — I’m an Avant Garde Poet
June 18th, 2011
Geof Huth recently claimed at his blog that there’s no such thing as avant garde poetry–because (as I understand him) all poetry issues from prior poetry. He instantly persuaded me of the existence of avant garde poetry, about which I’d been previously skeptical because nothing significantly new seemed to have been happening or even capable of happening in the arts anymore. I still believe the latter but what I suddenly realized is that “avant garde” means, or should mean, not significantly new but merely more new than the status quo. As, for instance, my mathematical and cryptograhic poetry are. I’m with Geof, though, in not thinking that considering onelf avant garde is that big a deal. An avant garde poet is not necessarily superior to a status quo poet.
Supporting Note: if Finnegans Wake was not avant garde, what was it? (I would add that it’s still avant garde.
Entry 459 — Week No. 2 at the Rehab Center
June 13th, 2011
I’m doing all the exercises I’ve been asked to do. Today I got my own walker. This means I’m allowed to walk everywhere in the building on my own–so long a s I use the walker. I can walk, slowly, without it, but am not supposed to. There are all kinds of movements I’m supposed to avoid (and do). I seem in good shape but can’t walk naturally, or unnaturally without thinking about what I’m doing. No word yet on when I’ll be able to go home. I don’t mind being here much. Not getting anything done, though–unless you count finishing reading beautiful & pointless, by David Orr, which may be the worst book about poetry ever written. Orr thinks there’s no reason for poets to think they know anything more about using words than the man in the street does. Granted, many do not. Still . . .
Entry 458 — A Quick In&Out
June 7th, 2011
I’m okay. Took me a long time to get access to a computer, and from it to the Internet. Am now trying to delete items in my server’s inbox so as not to go over my limit and I apparently don’t know how to do it because I’m doing it one e.mail at a time. I know I’ve at other times deleted many more at one time but can’t now. When done, almost certainly not until tomorrow, will say more about my current situation.
Entry 457 — Off to the Hospital
June 1st, 2011
I’ll be off to the hospital in another half hour or so. I feel good. Things should go well. If everything works out maximally well, I’ll be able to make a blog entry from the hospital tomorrow. Don’t bank on that, though.
Entry 456 — My Latest Poem
May 31st, 2011
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I posted it at New-Poetry early this morning. No comments back yet. I was hoping someone would say, “Wow, that’s great!” I really think it’s possible that few if anyone at New-Poetry–or maybe anywhere, can appreciate it as I do. I really do think that few people are not segreceptual, or incapable of quickly darting from one sensual modality to another, in this case from verboceptuality to wherever we process spelling and the conceptual significance of spellings quickly enough to appreciate the poem. A word-frame as the house of vowels, and then vacant.
I will be leaving my house tomorrow morning around six for the hospital and my hip surgery, so may not post an entry then, or for a while. I am not sure when I’ll next have access to the Internet. So don’t be surprised if there’s nothing new here for a week or more.
Note: I got all the things written I felt I had to before going to the hospital–after dawdling on all of them for days or weeks. Weird. I just couldn’t get them done–until I had to. Same thing happened most of the time with me in high school.