On the side: The Iliad cont'd...

On second thought, it’s as though the story of The Iliad is not necessarily concerned with the battle between the Greeks and the Trojans – but with that of its characters.

The Iliad symbolizes character development in the way of psychological maturation. There is a contrast between characters who virtually represent and believe-in the same things. This is seen between Achilles and Hektor as they are depicted as the main “heroes” of the Iliad.

Where they may share this common bond of heroism, they are very different. They are so different that they are “extreme” in their differences. Achille’s is an extreme warrior with horrific anger and a suffocating ideological pride. Hektor is a man of “the people” – he is one with his community. He is an outstanding warrior, but he fights for a collective purpose. He fights fair, and he is just. Homer depicts him as the ideal warrior.

There are many hero’s which are evident in the book, but regardless of their capabilities, they are used mainly as vehicles to create a deep contrast between the main characters.

Among the many themes which are evident in the book, the most outstanding is the character insight which is seen with Achilles. His character in unveiled through his actions, and his development as a “human” is plotted throughout the course of the book as he is exposed to, and reacts against, various situations.

His pride is not a “heroic” pride but a selfish pride. It appears immature and child-like. His temperament supports this as he becomes irrational and enraged; all of his senses and sensibilities become consumed by his anger.

A person with such outstanding capabilities in combination with a debilitating instability is a very dangerous person.

Throughout the course of The Iliad, Achilles develops as a human being. He matures from an ignorant, self-indulgent, aggressive, and borderline psychopathic individual, into a more compassionate and logical human being.

Homer’s characters represent many of the psychological instabilities of today. They are unbalanced, extremist personalities who are in control of a vast number of people (some would say, much like a modern government).

The gods have a very important and significant role in this because they act like an “alter ego”. They might represent the idea of “the human conscious”. Because god and religion is such a dominant force, perhaps Homer was alluding to “the voices of the gods” as being a “human conscious”, because this was a “new” and more modern idea. Then, it would have made sense that “the gods were talking” when really, “the gods” represented the conflict of interest in which we all (we, today) use to deliberate the good and the bad in every situation.

The Iliad: Achilles and Priam

The following is a comment on Homer's The Iliad which discusses Achille's personal development as a result of Priam's request.



Pride and passion led to the downfall of Achilles long before his fate. As the greatest warrior in the Achaian army, he was consumed by honor. The first few lines of Book One foreshadow Achilles temperament and irrationality:

Anger be now your song, immortal one,
Akhilleus’ anger, doomed and ruinous,
That caused the Akhaians loss on bitter loss.

His wrath is provoked by his dire sense of honor- he is consumed by his personal morals (not necessarily concerned for the “greater good”) and becomes alienated from the Greeks and eventually, society. It is this distance (his inability to be truly close to anyone; to be passionate about human issues as opposed to aesthetic gain and glory) which inspires his fate. He is willing to endanger his army and the people closest to him in order to preserve his honor.

Honor and glory are driving forces which are characteristic of “the hero”. To be a hero is to accept the conditions and the expectations of a society- to uphold status and to be respected within the community. A hero “accepts his fate”. He will endure suffering and pain, and he will bring glory and good. Public opinion is important to the hero. If this relationship were to sour, his pride would be lost and he would feel as if he was of no value or purpose. This is true of Achilles.

At points, Achilles distances himself from those around him when he feels his sense of identity and honor has been attacked. This also shows Achilles feeling somewhat victimized. His being a “victim” is a result of his pride being attacked, therefore he lashes out and is aggressive towards others- when his honor is questioned, he is tyrannical and irrational and acts-out accordingly.

There is an evident “modern” psychology to Homer’s work. His characters experience distress and anxiety. Achilles is an example of this internal battle. He is never quite understood, as he is never quite “stable”. Achilles is often enraged, angry, hostile- he is never reliably rational because he is constantly consumed with his pride. Upholding his pride often endangers others.

Achilles’ mother is the goddess Thetis. Achilles is conscious of morality and immorality, which is a factor in his inability to function or interact within human society. He is an outsider- he knows he will die (in battle) but he persists because of his passion, ego, and sense of immortality.

There is a definite contrast between Achilles and Hektor. Homer depicts the theme of individual values and morals versus social values through these characters. Hektor is a hero who is motivated by responsibility and obligation to his people. Achilles is motivated in terms of defending his pride.



“The funeral games were over.”

The gods seem to be depicted throughout the Iliad, as an active human conscious. Their dialogue and interaction represents the internal struggle between right and wrong or good and bad- the gods appear as “egos” at play, like a human consciousness battling what is appropriate, fair, just, and deserving. The gods themselves seem like “visual figures” that depict the human consciousness and awareness. Their “play” or interaction with each others opposing ideals is relational to the concept of human indecision.

The gods constantly “play”[I]. This is evident at the beginning of the Iliad and continues through the book up until the end. In Book XX Zeus calls a meeting to ensure that Achilles will not “side-step” his fate- to ensure that he will die. Being immortal, the gods treat this horrific human battle almost like entertainment (maybe not fully, but it appears that way). They are constantly interjecting and changing the course of the events on earth. The gods are divided amongst themselves and debate and argue their way through designing the outcome for the individuals on earth. In Books XX and XXI the gods “instigate” the fighting between the Trojans and the Greeks , which leads to Hektors death in XXII

The goddess Athena plays a crucial and deciding role in battle. She is in support of the Achians. When Achilles and Hektor fight in Book XXII she “speaks” to Hektor, convincing him that he will survive the battle against Achilles. This shows the gods in the role of the human conscious- the battle between good/bad and right/wrong.

In Book XXII the gods have a discussion amongst themselves. Athena addresses Zeus (her father) persuading him to let her take control of the battle between Achilles and Hektor.

My dear and honoured child. I am not bent
on my suggestion, and I would indulge you.
Act as your thought inclines, refrain no longer. (p. 521)

It is evident that the gods have the “upper hand” in the battle at all times- the fate of the mortals, whether the Greek army or the Trojan army, are all in the hands of hegemony. The gods have the higher power- however- they are conveyed as being careless and carefree. This poses a detrimental issue because they are in fact “playing” with human lives.

Book XXIII brings the victory games. Achilles brutally sacrifices captive Trojan men and animals in a large fire-pit in honour of his friend Patroklos. They “wine and dine” and play games to celebrate their victory. Hektor’s body is abused. He is kept face-down in the dirt amongst all of the “festivities”. This further shows Achilles untamed and unjust anger. The gods play a role here because they keep Hektors body from deteriorating- perhaps aware of the following events which were to take place.

The vision Achilles has of Patroklos shows his human qualities. He decides Patroklos needs a proper burial and time to mourn his dead friend. The idea of “a proper burial” is to put a soul to rest. Achilles is sympathetic to this which momentarily restrains his anger.

Achilles is not compassionate towards the body of Hektor. He is brutal and immoral with him. Achilles behaviour creates a contrast between the way Hektor treated Patroklos, and the way Achilles treats him. Hektor (thinking he was fighting Achilles) killed Patroklos but did not mutilate him, whereas Achilles goes above and beyond the realm of “victory” and becomes immoral and unethical in his treatment of Hektor.

This leads to the revealing episode in Book XXIV when Priam appeals to Achilles.

It is the gods which inspire Priam to seek Achilles. Zeus holds yet another meeting discussing Achilles irrational behaviour. They argue but decide to return Hektor’s body to Priam for a proper burial.

When Priam visits Achilles in Book XXIV, it is evident that, up until this point, Achilles has been consumed by irrational feelings of anger, ego, and unjust pride. Now, Priam appeals to Achilles emotional intelligence, appearing as the father of Hektor and not as the King of Troy. He asks Achilles to remember his own father- suggesting that a father’s wish is to see his son treated with the respect he deserves.

Remember your own father,
Akhilleus, in your godlike youth: his years
Like mine are many, and he stands upon
The fearful doorstep of old age. He, too,
Is hard pressed, it may be, by those around him,
There being no one able to defend him from bane of war and ruin…

Ten days ago you killed him, fighting for his land, my prince,
Hektor.

It is for him that I have come among these ships,
to beg him back from you,
And I bring ransom without stint. (p. 584)



Achilles is compassionate. He remembers the “vision” of Patroklos, looking inside himself and understanding Priam’s pain and anguish. This adds to the psychological component of the book. Achilles is aware of himself in a more humane way- he is sympathetic to Priam. His uncontrolled anger has subsided and he has reached a state of enlightenment and personal development.

Much of the success of Homer’s Iliad is due to the psychological development of Achilles as he comes “full circle” with his wrath. His ability to give Hektor’s body back to Troy symbolizes his willingness to let go of his pride in the name of honour. He realizes here, what “honour” really represents.



[I] Book XX, p. 471



Homer's, The Iliad Anchor Books, 1974. Translated by Robert Fitzgerald.

Naming of Parts

Henry Reed was born in Birmingham, earned a BA, worked as a teacher, and served in the British Army. His poem, Naming of Parts is a clever piece which offers a glimpse into the psyche of a cadet-in-training.


Naming of Parts
Henry Reed, 1914-1986


To-day we have naming of parts. Yesterday,
We had daily cleaning. And to-morrow morning,
We shall have what to do after firing. But today,T
o-day we have naming of parts. Japonica
Glistens like coral in all of the neighbouring gardens,
And to-day we have naming of parts.


The first three lines are very forthright and factual which suggests the tone is commanding… in line four the subject matter changes and the speakers voice is contemplating nature and his environment…


This is the lower sling swivel. And this
Is the upper sling swivel, whose use you will see,
When you are given your slings. And this is the piling swivel,
Which in your case you have not got. The branches
Hold in the gardens their silent, eloquent gestures,
Which in our case we have not got.


The speakers voice is a commander, maybe an officer- an authority figure. He is addressing a classroom of cadets, showing them the machinery, how to handle a gun. Techinical and mechanical words like “upper sling swivel” is probably a reference to a gun of some sort. The tone changes in forth line as th speaker begins to talk of nature- this is such a dramatic change it alludes to the voice of a different speaker altogether. This person is a cadet, sitting in the classroom, listening to a lecture on guns, and staring out the window and thinking about how lovely and beautiful it is outside. There are two very different dynamics here- war versus nature…


This is the safety-catch, which is always released
With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me
See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy
If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms
Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see
Any of them using their finger.


This passage confirms there are two separate voices: one is the voice of the teacher, the other is the voice of the student. The student is thinking to himself, half listening to the instructions, half day-dreaming of the day outside- away from the institutional walls. The repetiton is clever. The teacher instructs that he dosen’t want to see anyone “using his finger” and the student, who is seemingly in and out of consiousness (he’s physically in the classroom but his mind is elsewhere) is overhearing “bits and pieces” of the lecture. At the end of each stanza he repeats something his teacher said. This is a very clever and unique style of writing- there is a deep, psychological element to this piece.


And this you can see is the bolt. The purpose of this
Is to open the breech, as you see. We can slide it
Rapidly backwards and forwards: we call this Easing the spring.
And rapidly backwards and forwards
The early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers:
They call it easing the Spring.


This is a particularly clever stanza. Unique word choice is evident in this passage. There appears to be certain words which belong to the same category: “Bolt” and “spring” are mechanical or techincal words. “Backwards”, “forwards”, “rapidly”, and “fumbling” are chaotic action words. There is a relationship between the students observations of nature, newness, and Springtime, with the relationship of “bees assaulting and fumbling the flowers”. There is a sexual connotation here as well as with other descriptions of “opening the breech” and “easing the spring”. The contrast of war and nature is also apparent here with the description of the bees “assulting” and harrassing the flowers.


They call it easing the Spring; it is perfectly easy
If you have any strength in your thumb; like the bolt,
And the breech, and the cockingpiece, and the point of balance,
Which in our case we have not got; and the almond blossom
Silent in all of the gardens and the bees going backwards and forwards
For to-day we have naming of parts.


In the last stanza, it appears as though the student’s mind has begun to wander into the erotic- he’s fantacizing. As the teacher relays the lesson, he’s imagining sexual activity. As he looks out the window admiring nature, he’s thinking about “the birds and the bees” and the newness which tends to come in Spring.

Afterthought...the title to the poem is erotic as well (in a scientific sort-of-way)..

Modernism, continued...

In the past poets wrote for themselves or for people they knew personally. With the Modernist movement came something “difficult”- the exploration of “having patience with poetry”. This meant that “meaning” took on a “new” meaning. Things were not always evident. The idea of “patience” with poetry erupted through the “impatience” found in deciphering modernist poetry.

T. S. Eliot and Ezra Pound were the “social connection” and worked together as a consciously revolutionary team[I]. Imagery became important in poetry. Imagist poems were like photographs. Imagists like Pound and H. D. (Hilda Doolittle) found that their objectives were to, “present an emotional and intellectual complex in an instant of time."[II] This is a great way to describe the idea of Imagist poems being much like photographs. They can articulate complex emotions in only a few lines by using specific words which suggest sensuality and emotional intensity.

As a result of this heavy and rich style of writing, in order to understand the context, one might find themselves perplexed or impatient. Asking themselves (as we often do) what in the world does this mean? There came a point where poets would provide a vehicle by which to communicate their ideas, so that their ideas would reach a larger audience.

T. S. Eliot was a poet, critic, and editor. He wrote with an imagist style which unlocked the subtleties of the unconscious[III].

T. S. Eliot’s The Waste Land is one of the greatest poems in modernist literature. Eliot uses many references and sources in his work- an example of this is his reference to the bible and Christianity, as well as the work of his peers and predecessors. This shows his wide-range of interest, profound knowledge, and insight. The poem itself is a reference to the city as a wasteland. Eliot’s poem “shattered notions of poetry”[IV] in that it had to be one specific thing, with a specific purpose and a specifc structure by which to follow- Eliot encorporated references to many poets with a likeness to encorporate their ideas and style into his own, and ended-up expressing those ideas in a way that they couldn’t. The poem is divided in to five sections of the poem operate as an orientation, a reference to the earth (and all its properties: earth, fire, air, and water). He incorporated irony, metonymy, simile, paradox, personification, and metaphor which were the literary devices he used to convey his ideas.

I will attempt to decipher the whole of Eliot's The Waste Land at a later date. Characteristic of modernist poetry, understanding the poem will take time. Although there are many resources available to "walk me through" it, I would much rather attempt it first and foremost on my own, see how far I get, how much I read into it- and compare my notes.

Stay tuned..

Imagism

At the end of the 19th century it was evident that the “rules” had to be changed. Modernism was experimentation with form which challenged patience and revolutionized the way poetry was written. Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot were at the forefront of the modernist movement. From this movement stemmed “Imagism”.

While reading-up on Imagism, I came upon information on The Poet’s Club and the inspiration of the Imagists as a result of their opposing ideas. The imagists rejected romantic and Victorian traditions and favoured imagery in “clear and sharp language”. The imagists were the first modernist “group” and included women writers.

The Poet’s Club which was established by T. E. Hulme became a platform of debate. The “new age poet” F. S. Flint, was critical of Hulme’s theories. Strangely enough, a friendship was formed from this divide. They began to meet at the Eiffel Tower (in Paris) to discuss the reformation of poetry from the confines of rigid structure to free verse (and haiku) and to take-away any “unnecessary” information or “verbiage”.

*I thought this was a very romantic image. I pictured them talking about poetry, sipping café, smoking from pipes, thinking progressively, and contemplating the day.
Ezra Pound was introduced to the group because his ideas were similar to his own. He was an American poet who studied romantic literature and whose inspiration came from the likes of Dante and Cavalcanti.

Together, and with the help of others, they determined “a few don’ts” in regards to poetry. The group’s position believed in the following:

1. Direct treatment of the "thing", whether subjective or objective.
2. To use absolutely no word that does not contribute to the presentation.
3. As regarding rhythm: to compose in sequence of the musical phrase, not in sequence of the metronome.

Pound decided to publish an anthology which were a collection of peoms he selected and that he determined, best reflected their three “rules”. Pound was a critic who was respected by many, including W.B. Yeats and James Joyce.

(Note: This information is based on readings from the online encyclopedia resource: http://en.wikipedia.org)

Among the Imagists were John Keats and D. H. Lawerence. Keats in particular felt he was “walking in the shadows” of previous poets. The themes in Keats work was often love and romance and was full of whistful imagination. His poem, Ode to a Nightingale is full of imagery and reference to beauty - it is very “fairytale-like” with a focus on free verse/thought.

Ode to a Nightingale considers the different thought-provoking characteristics of human life. Keats considers the opposite feelings of pain/happiness, the actual versus the ideal, and life and death. Ode to a Nightingale is a poem about the movement of feeling- it is about change, it is concerning yourself with all aspects of life, it is objective.

The poem alludes to escapism. He experiences joy and pain, feeling and numbness, and he searches to find some sort of higher meaning through the bird. The bird is a living thing, an object by which draws his affection, however as the poem moves forward, the birds purpose is more evident as a symbol of life- that symbol being the “ideal”. This ideal relates to the ideal “state of being” in life. Unmixed, unaffected joy- perhaps the ablity to be insightful and content in any given sitution.

The development of this is shown when he contemplates the wine. Its most obvious purpose (to become intoxicated) is not the focal point, rather, he uses the wine as “symbol” of intoxication- contemplating the state or experience he would have- of becoming “closer” to something. The word “vintage” suggests he is looking for a certain “quality” within this enlightenment. He is obviously concerned with “quality” in life, however he is pursuing the ideal- the ability to have “quality”- perhaps meaning that, when one has quality, they have everything- there is no pending injury (meaning there “are no strings attached”).

He describes the relationship of the bird, to the world. He becomes aware of his state of mind, of becoming intoxicated with the Nightingale and realizing his senses are affected. As the poem progresses he experiences both “loss” and “connection” with the bird and with relationship to the world. This relationship mimics a “real” relationship one might experience when in love. The “honeymoon” stage, willingly being intoxicated by this state, realizing that “life goes on” and having to enter the “real” together- having to leave the honeymoon and enter the real world- and in this world there are many more factors which exist, and in order to sustain the relationship, a certain “quality” must be achieved. This quality is found in the ability to objectively look at the relationship and all its components. Near the end of the poem the poet wonders if he has learned anything- if he has acheieved this connection- if he has achieved this “quality” he was intently seeking.

It is curious to relate this poem to that of a marriage or a blooming relationship, as the interactions of the poet and the Nightingale mimic the stages and actions of human relationships.

Exams

Time's Up?


My hands are numb,
I can't feel my finger or my thumb,
Still sitting on my bum,
It's almost time.

The clock strikes one,
No one is having fun,
At least we're almost done,
This time.

The clock strikes two,
I sneeze- someone says: "bless you",
I look around the room,
We're out of time.

The professor says: "Hey you",
I say: "Sir, just these last few?",
He tells me it's due,
It's time.


Ha.

**note: I am aware that this is a sad, sad, very bad poem.
I am reeling from an exam- wrote it fifteen minutes ago- this is a little reflection...
Let it rest in *piece.

Working Class Hero

Working Class Hero

By John Lennon


As soon as you're born they make you feel small
By giving you no time instead of it all
Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be

They hurt you at home and they hit you at school
They hate you if you're clever and they despise a fool
Till you're so f****g crazy you can't follow their rules
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be

When they've tortured and scared you for twenty odd years
Then they expect you to pick a career
When you can't really function you're so full of fear
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be

Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV
And you think you're so clever and classless and free
But you're still f*****g peasants as far as I can see
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be

There's room at the top they are telling you still
But first you must learn how to smile as you kil
lIf you want to be like the folks on the hill
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be
If you want to be a hero well just follow me
If you want to be a hero well just follow me


The working class have struggled for centuries. For those of us who have read Henry Fielding’s Joseph Andrews or Charles Dicken’s Hard Times – we have a first-class glimpse into the literature which has reflected the harsh realities of later times. However, the "harsh" realities of the past are still evident in the present. Change, of course, can be accounted for through history- the rise of the "Union", the legalities following sexual offenses, and so on.

However, I believe Lennon is expressing that, the poor of the past and the poor of the present (as well as the morally poor) are all victim to the stranglehold and influence the mighty dollar has and has had, on humanity.

Lennon describes a mid-20th century perspective of “the mighty struggle” while his message rings true of centuries before (and likely centuries to come). Lennon focuses on the “corporation” and it’s influence on society. From birth to death we are consumed, driven, and fueld by dollars and cents- many of us for varying reasons.

Someone once said to me “the more you have, the more you want” just like “the more you have, the more you spend- and- the less you have, the more you need” …

I think in today’s age, many of us (speaking strictly of Western culture- aka the limit of my exposure) are in search of commodity as opposed to quality. Take for example, Christmas. The “quality” aspect would be found with Mom’s homemade pies, the hearth, funny stories, and biscuits. Now, Christmas is more of an enterprise- a corporate advantage- a marketing tool. Christmas equals money. Christmas means presents and overindulgences, and acquiring “things”.

When Lennon suggests we’re all still “peasants” I think he’s saying we don’t know what we’ve done, or what we have , or what we’ve given-up. He’s basically saying we don’t know what “quality” is- we’re conditioned, we’re too busy pursuing the “ideal” yet we don’t know what that ideal is…we just keep looking for it in “things”. In acquiring “things” we hope to discover our purpose…

I was once told that, "In order to have a stable economy there has to be suffering. There needs to be poverty in the world. Pleople need to "need" things- and the people who give these things, are the people who profit- this is the way profit is made."

Obviously we'll all jump on the banwagon and declare this untrue. I believe there is truth to this statement, however sad it may be. The difference though, is the clarification of "poverty". I do not believe that there needs to be all-out suffering in the world. I do not believe there needs to be "poverty" in the world- I belive that there is a fine balance which can be achieved, for those willing to attempt it. As it stands, I fully believe (and this might be way off topic) but I believe that the world economy is astronomically off-balance.

Something to consider too is, it is human nature to "want more" ...when you acquire something, you immediately "want more" (in whatever respect) ...so keeping that in mind, if the world was balanced in this sense, yet everyone still aspired to "have more" - what would happen then?

Thoughts on the grill.



Something to think about.

The WB

William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

He was an Irish poet, dramatist, and prose writer. Among some of his topics, Yeats wrote about old age, the process of ageing, love, nature, war and art.

The following is a lyrical poem by W.B. Yeats:

The Lamentation of the Old Pensioner

Although I shelter from the rain
Under a broken tree,
My chair was nearest to the fireIn every company
That talked of love or politics,
Ere Time transfigured me.

Though lads are making pikes again
For some conspiracy,
And crazy rascals rage their fill
At human tyranny,
My contemplations are of Time
That has transfigured me.

There's not a woman turns her face
Upon a broken tree,
And yet the beauties that I loved
Are in my memory;
I spit into the face of Time
That has transfigured me.

"Although" and "Under" occur in the opening lines and help to slow the poem- long vowel sounds convey the mood and the element of Time passed.

In the first stanza, there is a feeling of desperation, pride, and misfortune. It sounds as though he is trying to express that the condition he appears to be in, is not a result of his doing- it is a result of his misfortune- he seems to be blaming the world for his circumstances.

An old man is taking shelter from the rain under a "broken" tree- he is describing his pitiful situation, he appears as though he is looking for compassion and for someone to feel sorry for him. He continues to suggest the reason for his misery and misfortune in the following few sentences, implying his chair was nearest to the fire (nearest to trouble) in every company (at every point in his life) - meaning- he always got screwed around- and eventually Time took its toll.

"Ere Time transfigured me." He repeats this at the end of each stanza- placing blame.

Placing blame as a result of anger or ego? Does he wants us to know it was Time which made him how he appears in order to disguise...something else? A result of his own doing? Is it easier to blame Time then to take ownership of your past decisions and mistakes?

He blames Time. And he REALLY wants us to know

(It was TIME, I swear, It was Nothing I did!) ...?

He talks about conspiracy, human tyranny, rejection, and the beauty he remembers from his 'good days' - he's given-up. He's not hiding the fact that he's down and out, he's miserable. He is so miserable, it's as though his misery has given him a new purpose. He is consumed by contemplations of 'what was and what could have been' - he is "spitting" on time, blaming time for "transfiguring" him. His bitterness seems to empower him. Judging from what we know of his history, things haven't gone so well...and this "power" is the only thing he is in control of- his anger, his frustration, his contempt.

This poem reaches me in a few ways...

At face value, I thought it was a pretty poem- filled with sarrow and turmoil, sure- but a poem that articulated "life" through the eyes of someone who had "been around the block".

Maybe he is so incredibly consumed by his situation- he's become passionate about his life again- he's fired-up- he's so full of hate, he's actually enjoying himself for once. "And yet the beauties that I loved, Are in my memory"- he living in his memory.

He may not be a homeless man, the title confirms this- he sounds like an old retiree, sitting on his front lawn, watching the young saunter by, cursing "bad luck" and circumstance.

Were things really all that bad? Could he not have made a change for himself?

"And the beauties that I loved..."

This leads me to think he perhaps loved, but didn't acquire the same love in return? Did loneliness turn him sour?

His anger must have started before...

In the first stanza he talks of politics, in the second he alludes to hegemony, and in the third he speaks of love being only a memory.

The one thing that is clear- as poetry is not often simple to decipher- is the focus on himself.

He ends each stanza with "me". He wants the last memory you have, to be of him.

At least he can have that.

Hardy

The Darkling Thrush

I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-gray,
And Winter's dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres, And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be
The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overheadIn a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.

- Thomas Hardy

"Poetry is the best words in the best order." - Coleridge

To my knowledge Thomas Hardy is infamous for creating dark, ominous imagery in his poetry. For anyone keen on the concept of "approaches to style" this poem is an example of very select word choice at a very select time.

This particular poem consists of select words which are placed at appropriate points in the work and carry very significant connotations and it is evident that Hardy's has been able to "kill two birds with one stone".

What do I mean?

He delivers a message. It is up to his audience to intake that message and create a meaning. I would assume Hardy had a distinct idea of what he wanted to impress on his audience, therefore he chose words which "gave one idea and alluded to another".

Take for example the title of the poem The Darkling Thrush. The word "Thrush" means "little bird" and his using this description allows both the bird and the bird's environment to be illuminated. If you read further, you find that the orientation of the poem is highlighted with the nouns "coppice", "frost", "winter", "bine-stems", and so on. Hardy has described a natural environment; a wooded area during the wintertime. His word choice allows him to "say alot in a little space" (which is something I'm sure many of us aspire to do).

Word selection is important. Looking at Hardy's poem this is evermore evident. He chooses words which sound similar, look similar, rhyme and reason and are aesthetically pleasing (tangled, strings, broken, twigs, sharp). Combining these words in the poem create a "feeling" and carry a message through the work. All of those word descriptions are somewhat harsh, violent, aggressive - this adds to the darkness and "death-like" feel to the poem.

He uses the word "fervourless" to describe and contrast two things in one feeling:

And every spirit upon earth

Seemed fervourless as I

This selection occurs in the first stanza. The mood is dim, there is a feeling of vacancy and weariness. By using the word "fervourless" Hardy is implying that the narrator is alive, awakened, and deep in-thought. This word contrasts with the description of his environment. He is tired from the winter, the earth is weary and worn, there is a feeling of desolate darkness and death. Although this word identifies what seems to be an opposite feeling to the narrators experience, it validates his intense feelings while acting as a vehicle which moves the poem forward into further exploring this newfound awareness.

"The weakening eye of the day" represents the sun-setting and the day coming to a close. This occurs in the first stanza which is a clever way to further add feeling to the poem. "The Darkling Thrush" really means "The bird in the night" (or something like that), and the bird is only introduced near the end of the poem which means as each stanza moves forward, the sun continues to set until the bird emerges once darkness falls.

The tangled bine-stems scored the sky

Like strings of broken lyres

Here, Hardy illuminates the mood by comparing the environment and the narrator. The narrator feels broken as does the land which is desolate and bare. This is shown by the representation of a "lyre" which is worn-out and run-down, whose strings are broken. This creates the image of being tangled, unwoven, deshevled, and so on. It is further complimentry to the poem because the "lyre" would be played by a human, and the strings which are broken is comparable to the narrator who feels broken himself.

(I am in awe of the complexities of word choice. It is an art, a science, and a creation- but really only as good as its placement) ... *thinking...

Continuing with Hardy...

To identify the cold, unwelcoming and unfriendly environment Hardy describes this bleakness with literary metaphor.

The land's sharp features seemed to be

The Century's corpse outleant,

His crypt the cloudy canopy,

The wind his death-lament.

The "land's sharp features" are in reference to human features as he carries this idea forward with the word "corpse". Pathetic Fallacy is seen here as he unifies man and nature (similar to stanza one with "broken lyre"). "His crypt the cloudy canopy" might refer to (the human conscious?) acting as a reference to the human brain. The cloudy canopy could also refer to confusion or intense thoughts- this character's mind might be "lost in a fog" so-to-speak. This carries forward the theme of the relationship between man and nature as the canopy also reflects the clouds and the sky.

Irritation and frustration is immediately evident when the bird emerges, singing in the night. The narrator is not impressed. The word "beruffled" highlights his annoyance with the little bird. The bird is ignorant to the "shrunkenness" and "desolateness" below and continues to sing. This is a point where the stream of consciousness which is evident throughout the poem becomes evermore clear.

The play between external and internal evaluations is constant but more evident at this point in the poetry. As the little bird sings, the internal dialogue of the narrator processes this in accordance with his own personal thoughts and feelings. He is interpreting the bird. This creates a level of irony (because it's a bird) and because the bird is fully ignorant to the intensity below and the desruption his presence is causing- however, the narrator takes the birds' presence as a sign; a type of "escapisim" or "enlightenment" from his gloom and suffering.

This part of the poem carries a message. The audience can interpret the hostile, dark, desolate feel as "depression" because of such factors as: weariness, age, the time of season, and determine that the mood is quite intense because the narrator is feeling intense. The bird's presence highlights for the narrator, a brief irritance as well as an escape from his internal struggle.

Reading this part of the poem creates an awareness for the audience ( for me, personally) because I see someone struggling with his internal emotions, and the contrast which is set by the bird, fully ignorant to this...but I interpret this message to be "things are not always as bad as they seem" - the bird is a sign of winter coming to an end and of springtime on it's way, the bird is a sign (that ignorance is bliss?) and that life if forward-moving and each of us will have to continuously adapt to change.

Comments by Lester Bangs

On popularity:

You'll meet them all again on your long journey to the middle.

On The Music of America:

Here's a theory for you to disregard completely: Music, true music, it chooses you...from the vast, scenic bridges of your brain and angelic choirs...it's a place apart from the lap of America.

On real Buffoons:

The Doors by Jim Morrison? He's a drunken buffoon posing as a poet- give me the Guess Who- they have the courage to be drunken buffoons which makes them poetic.

On accomplishments:

The Letter by The Box Tops, it takes them one minute and fifty-eight seconds, less than two minutes to accomplish what takes Jethro Tull hours to Not accomplish.

On Rock Journalism:

It's an industry of cool...what passes for rock these days, silence is more compelling.

Quotes by Lester Bangs as represented by director Cameron Crowe in his motion picture
Almost Famous (bootleg cut)

END OF THE CENTURY

The Victorian era was a period of social, political, and ecconomic change. Some of the key Victorian poets during this time were, Lord Tennyson, Robert Browning, and Elizabeth Browning.

Change occurred with the end of Queen Victoria’s reign (1837-1901)[I] which meant a sense of loss and unrest for the Victorians. From this change, focus was placed on “sensibility” and “rigidity” which inspired “movement” in poetry. These sensual and emotive movements included a focus on aesthetics and decadance which suggested that poetry should convey sensual pleasure as opposed to a centralized focus on moral messages and meanings. “Aestheticism” was a concept with the intent to capture essence and beauty. This meant a heightened focus on colour, words, music- anything visually or sensually enhancing, inspiring, or beautiful.

Oscar Wilde and W. B. Yeats were men who found this concept enlightening.

Oscar Wilde was a playwrite, novelist, and poet who was convicted of “indecency” because he was a homosexual.

After Wilde was released from prison in 1897[II] he wrote a famous poem, perhaps a reflection of his state of mind, called The Ballad of Reading Gaol.

The following are specific stanza’s from The Ballad of Reading Gaol which I find are very different from his rich, aesthetic-style of writing (theatre, comedy, fairy-tales) and demonstrates his (what I would think would be a “darker state of mind”) as opposed to his previous comedic and “art is life” style of writing.

He walked amongst the Trial Men
In a suit of shabby grey;A cricket cap was on his head,
And his step seemed light and gay;
But I never saw a man who looked
So wistfully at the day.

Here, I picture a man walking in-line with other men, wearing a coveralls and reflecting on his life, thinking about his past, thinking about himself…

I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blueWhich prisoners call the sky,
And at every drifting cloud that wentWith sails of silver by.

“Tent of Blue” creates a visual sky within the words. There is a slow-motion feeling to this walk, like they are walking toward their fate, anticipating the inevitable…

I walked, with other souls in pain,
Within another ring,
And was wondering if the man had done
A great or little thing,
When a voice behind me whispered low,'THAT FELLOW'S GOT TO SWING.'

The second line insinuates he is observing a man walking toward his fate, he’s observing his behaviour, wondering what the man is contemplating. He is wondering what kind of crime this individual had committed. The implication of “little” leads me to wonder what constitutes a small crime, or an insignificant crime- it also leads me to belive that he himself realizes the systems injustice and that he considers his institutional commitment as unjust. That he is aware of his crime being a “little thing”…

Dear Christ! the very prison walls
Suddenly seemed to reel,
And the sky above my head became
Like a casque of scorching steel;
And, though I was a soul in pain,
My pain I could not feel.

At this point I feel something dramatic has happened. There is a change of pace. I feel he’s been taken a different direction, physically put somewhere or he’s back inside the prison walls. He was somber, curious, and reflective when he was outside- now he’s frantic and panicky- like he’s been led inside…

I only knew what hunted thought
Quickened his step, and why
He looked upon the garish day
With such a wistful eye;The man had killed the thing he loved,
And so he had to die.

He realizes this man was looking at the day unlike many would contemplate the day- he was looking at like it was his last day.

This poem is about the death chamber and is haunting and disturbing. Much of the poem describes the events leading up to the prisoner’s death. Near the end he talks about man-made law and the idea harsh realities of the institution…

I know not whether Laws be right,
Or whether Laws be wrong;
All that we know who lie in gaol
Is that the wall is strong;
And that each day is like a year,A year whose days are long.

But this I know, that every Law
That men have made for Man,
Since first Man took his brother's life,
And the sad world began,But straws the wheat and saves the chaff
With a most evil fan.

This too I know - and wise it were
If each could know the same -That every prison that men build
Is built with bricks of shame,
And bound with bars lest Christ should see
How men their brothers maim.

Here he describes the bitter realities of prison. The weak become weaker, the tough become tougher- all of them becoming “harder” people. The conditions of the jail – poor diet and poor chambers- the violence and inhumanity. “And all but lust” – perhaps this is insinuating (forced) homosexual experiences and assault.

For they starve the little frightened child
Till it weeps both night and day:
And they scourge the weak, and flog the fool,
And gibe the old and grey,
And some grow mad, and all grow bad,
And none a word may say.

Each narrow cell in which we dwell
Is a foul and dark latrine,
And the fetid breath of living Death
Chokes up each grated screen,
And all, but Lust, is turned to dust
In Humanity's machine.

The brackish water that we drink
Creeps with a loathsome slime,
And the bitter bread they weigh in scales
Is full of chalk and lime,
And Sleep will not lie down, but walks
Wild-eyed, and cries to Time.

"Wild-eyed" implies Wilde himself, looking wild-eyed like the many men who endured the same pain and circumstance.



[I] Note from lecture 2/28/05
[II] http://en.wikipedia.org

The Force That Through...

In keeping with the theme of tragedy, a dark piece...


The Froce That Through The Green Fuse Drives The Flower
Dylan Thomas

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
Is my destroyer.
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose
My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.

The force that drives the water through the rocks
Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams
Turns mine to wax.
And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins
How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks.

The hand that whirls the water in the pool
Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind
Hauls my shroud sail.
And I am dumb to tell the hanging man
How of my clay is made the hangman's lime.

The lips of time leech to the fountain head;
Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood
Shall calm her sores.
And I am dumb to tell a weather's wind
How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.

And I am dumb to tell the lover's tomb
How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.

Dylan's poem is complex in its simplicity.

This poem describes the cycle of life and death, while acknowledging that destruction is a key part of the same process, both for man and for nature. Each stanza presents the flow of time moving towards its conclusion.

This poem is saturated with imagery and metaphor. Imagery is evident in the first stanza with descriptions of death in relation to “wintry fever”. The green “fuse” is the stem which is the life-blood of the flower, connecting it like a baby to its mother through its umbilical cord.

Violent words such as “force” to describe something as beautiful as the growth and maturation of a flower is unlikely, and this poem is dark in that these violent images are often used to take the focus off of the beauty and progression of life, and rather remind us that death is inevitable for the weathered flower.

This poem compares the human existence to that of nature represented as a flower. It reminds us that we are all ‘one with the earth’, we all experience similar stages towards death, we all experience the process of aging, and that we will all eventually meet the same fate.

Italians and Englishmen

Elizabethean dramatic poetry assisted the English language as it awakened a certain consciousness within it. Language in literature became “rich and alive” as “the world is a text”(Lecture: 01/17). Representation of the times became important with elaborate costumes and visuals to unify theatre and literature.
Comedy and Tragedy are examples of dramatic poetry.

The following is an example of a dramatic monologue which comes from Robert Browning’s “My last Dutchess”:

That's my last Duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive. I call
That piece a wonder, now: Fra Pandolf's hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will't please you sit and look at her? I said
"Fra Pandolf" by design, for never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion of its earnest glance,
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a glance came there; so, not the first
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 'twas not
Her husband's presence only, called that spot
Of joy into the Duchess' cheek: perhaps
Fra Pandolf chanced to say "Her mantle laps
Over my lady's wrist too much," or "Paint
Must never hope to reproduce the faint
Half-flush that dies along her throat": such stuff
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough
For calling up that spot of joy. She had
A heart---how shall I say?---too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, 'twas all one! My favour at her breast,
The dropping of the daylight in the West,
The bough of cherries some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule
She rode with round the terrace---all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech,
Or blush, at least. She thanked men,---good! but thanked
Somehow---I know not how---as if she ranked
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blame
This sort of trifling? Even had you skill
In speech---(which I have not)---to make your will
Quite clear to such an one, and say, "Just this
Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,
Or there exceed the mark"---and if she let
Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set
Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse,
---E'en then would be some stooping; and I choose
Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt,
Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without
Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands
As if alive. Will't please you rise? We'll meet
The company below, then. I repeat,
The Count your master's known munificence
Is ample warrant that no just pretence
Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;
Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowed
At starting, is my object. Nay, we'll go
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!


This poem is a classic example of a monologue and grammatically uses poetic structures such as enjambment, and the speaker is identified as being separate from the poet. The character of the Duke is seen as ‘ridiculous’ as his personality is slightly off-colour. He mimics other characters, imitates them, suggests situations which are not evident (all which suggest irony to the audience as the reader is clearly able to see truth while he does not have the capability to see past his madness).

This poem places emphasis on aesthetic value and explores issues of sex and violence as the idea of self-consciousness and immorality are heightened as the Dutchess is punished for her sexual exploration.
Her husband's presence only, called that spot Of joy into the Duchess' cheek: perhaps Fra Pandolf chanced to say "Her mantle laps
Over my lady's wrist too much,"

As this poem is a monologue, the audience could consider that the “madness” and anger came from a ‘war of consciousnesses’ in the characters mind.

The poem places emphasis on the word “last” implying that the Duke is in the midst of finishing with one, and is in search of another Dutchess. This adds a certain element to the poem as it demonstrates the treatment of women and the way in which feminine qualities are appreciated and/or abused.

Irony is evident that while the Duke is in constant conversation with himself, and the audience is able to see the value of the entire situation and piece together another level of psychology that exists in the context, we see humour in his madness and irrationality. The fact that men are attracted to female sexuality, yet become engaged in an ever-constant battle to conserve these qualities.

The Lovers

Poetry is about passion. It can be terrifying and destructive, and it should convey sensitivity and sincerity to its audience.[1]

Greece:

Sappho was a female Greek lyrist who, in reflection of the times, wrote lyrical poetry that was accompanied by a lyre (which was discussed in class prior to the break). She was the inventor of the Sapphic metre which is: A line that consists of five equal beats, of which the central one alone is of three syllables, while the others consist of two each. [2]

Her style is sensual and melodic. She composed songs of love and reflection and centered much of her focus on woman in art, and was later considered for its homoerotic content. Her writing suggests that the expression of same-sex love was not frowned upon then as it was in more recent times. She has been known to be the “lesbian writer” of love poetry or the “undying Aphrodite”.[3]

Rome:

We’re taken to a time much different from the period of Sappho.
Catullus, Tibullus, and Propertius represent the emergence of lyric poetry in Rome from approximately 60 to 10 BC.

It is at this point where we see men writing about love. Historically the ideas of lyric poetry involve much sexuality (Sappho) with romanticized ideas incorporating love, politics, sex and self-expression.
These poets are often referred of as writing in a time of “luxury”. Cattulus in particular was noted for writing during a period where the former conservative Roman empire became revolutionized by need for extravagance and bourgeois displays of wealth.

Catullus wrote:

"At leisure, Licinius, yesterday
We'd much fun at my writing-tablets
As we'd agreed to be frivolous.
Each of us writing light verses
Playing now with this metre, now that,
Capping each other's jokes with toasts,"[4]

This depicts a period where there was time for luxury: feasts, lavish dinners, and extravagance.

You'll dine well, my Fabullus, at mineOne day soon if the Gods are kind to you,If you will bring with you a dinnerGood and large plus a pretty girl And wine and salt and all the laughs. If, I repeat, you bring these with you, Our charmer, you'll dine well; for your Catullus' purse is full of cobwebs. But in return you'll get love neat Or something still more choice and fragrant; For I'll porvide the perfume given My girl by Venuses and Cupids And when you smell it you'll ask the Gods, Fabullus, to make you one large nose.
Translated by Guy Lee [5]


This is an example of a very sexual poem which insinuates the sharing of women, love-play, and eroticism.

As discussed in lecture, Ovid wrote a series of poems called “elegies in elegiac meter which were sophisticated poems about life and times and sex.

The first work is called “The Theme of Love” is his writings of Amore.

I interpret book one, “The Theme of Love” as a discussion between himself and his conscious (“Cupid”) as inevitably his passion for love outweighs the realities of violent times.

A discussion on Ovid’s Amores…

A selection from “The Theme of Love.”

Book I, Elegy I

Just now, I was preparing to start with heavy fighting
and violent war, with a measure to fit the matter.
Good enough for lesser verse – laughed Cupid
so they say, and stole a foot away.
‘Cruel boy, who gave you power over this song?
Poets are the Muses’, we’re not in your crowd.
What if Venus snatched golden Minerva’s weapons,
while golden Minerva fanned the flaming fires?
Who’d approve of Ceres ruling the wooded hills,
with the Virgin’s quiver to cultivate the fields?
Who’d grant long-haired Phoebus a sharp spear,
while Mars played the Aonian lyre?
You’ve a mighty kingdom, boy, and too much power,
ambitious one, why aspire to fresh works?
Or is everything yours?

Elegy II is entitled “Love’s Victim” and compares the idea of love to war, as they are both about passion and violence and unrequited desires.

How to say what it’s like, how hard my mattress
seems, and the sheets won’t stay on the bed,
and the sleepless nights, so long to endure,
tossing with every weary bone of my body in pain?
But, I think, if desire were attacking me I’d feel it.
Surely he’s crept in and skilfully hurt me with secret art.
That’s it: a slender arrow sticks fast in my heart,
and cruel Love lives there, in my conquered breast.
Shall I give in: to go down fighting might bank the fires?
I give in! The burden that’s carried with grace is lighter.
I’ve seen the torch that’s swung about grow brighter
and the still one, on the contrary, quenched.
The oxen that shirk when first seized for the yoke
get more lashes than those that are used to the plough.
The hot steed’s mouth is bruised from the harsh curb,
the one that’s been in harness, feels reins less.
Love oppresses reluctant lovers more harshly and insolently
than those who acknowledge they’ll bear his slavery.
Look I confess! Cupid, I’m your latest prize:
stretching out conquered arms towards your justice.
War’s not the thing – I come seeking peace:
no glory for you in conquering unarmed men.

Once love has overtaken duty, this poetry continues to describe various levels of consciousness and describes encounters where, in great detail, love and sex are discussed as giving-way to great need for passion.

Elegy VII:

If there’s a friend here, tie my hands –
they merit chains – while my fury wanes!
Just now my fury thoughtlessly struck my girl:
my darling’s weeping, wounded by my mad hands.
Then I could have done violence to my dear parents
or savagely taken a scourge to the sacred gods!
Well? Didn’t Lord Ajax of the seven-layered shield
lay out the sheep he caught all over the fields,
and didn’t lawless Orestes’s, avenging his father
on his mother, dare to call up a spear for the secret Sisters?
So can’t I tear at her done-up hair?

Here it is seen again that through the stages of seeking and yearning for love, falling in love, courting love, enjoying love, testing love, finally lends way to violence, characteristic of Book I and depicts the violence that can be found in love, as it is found on the battle-field.

Elegy IX is adequately entitled: Love is War. It lends to the admission and recognition of the violence found in nature and in love.

Every lover’s in arms, and Cupid holds the fort:
Atticus, believe me, every lover’s in arms.
The age that’s good for war, is also right for love.
An old soldier’s a disgrace, and an old lover.
That spirit a commander looks for in a brave army,
a lovely girl looks for in a love partner.
Both keep watch: both sleep on the ground,
one serves at his lady’s entrance, the other his general’s.
A long road’s a soldier’s task: but send the girl off,
and a restless lover will follow her to the end.

I interpret this next part as a kind of revolutionary thought, meaning, the once inexperienced lover has now gone through the elements and stages of having loved, and has tasted both the good and the bad, and now reflects on love as mature, wiser, and experience lover.

Elegy X:

I feared eagles and bulls, for you,
and whatever else great Jupiter might make love as.
Now all fear’s gone, my mind is healed of error,
now your beauty can’t captivate my eyes.
Why am I changed, you ask? Because you want gifts.
That’s the cause that stops you from pleasing me.
Once you were innocent, I loved you body and soul:
now your beauty’s flawed by this defect of mind.
Love is a child and naked: without the shabbiness of age
and without clothing, so he’s all openness.

And…

When making love pleases both partners alike,
why should she sell and the other buy?
When a man and a woman perform a joint act
why should the pleasure hurt me and profit you?
It’s wrong for witnesses to perjure themselves for gain,
it’s wrong to open the purse of the chosen judges.
It’s a disgrace to defend the accused with a bought tongue:
a disgraceful court makes itself wealthy:
it’s wrong to swell family wealth with the bed’s proceeds,
or prostitute your good looks for money.
un-purchased, things deserve our thanks, on merit:
no thanks for the evil of a bought bed.
The buyer loosens all bonds

In the last elegy of his first book, he reflects on what he has experienced in love, hurt, and death. This also sets a dark, moody, and restless tone to his work.

So, while granite, while the unyielding ploughshare
perish with the years, poetry will not die.
Leaders and countries yield to the triumphs of song,
and the lavish waters of gold-bearing Tagus yield!
Let the masses gaze at trash: let golden-haired Apollo
offer me a brimming cup of Castalian waters,
and I’ll wear a wreathe of myrtle, that hates the cold,
and be read by many an anxious lover!
Envy feeds on the living: it’s quiet after death,
while everyone who’s dead gets their due honours.
So even when I’m given to the final flames,
I’ll live, and the better part of me will survive.

It’s a more humorous approach to writing for his time. It is sophisticated and incorporates the reality of love with descriptions that give-way to a sense of naivety and despair.

I think looking at Ovid is a great example of passionate and sophisitcated poetry.

Texts:
[1] 2110 Tutorial: Love. Jan 3, 2005
[2] Encyclopedia.org/s/sa/sapphic
[3] 2110 Lecture: Love. Jan 3, 2005
[4] Lee, Guy. The Poems of Catullus. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990.
Reference: www.tonykline.co.uk/browsebages/latin/amoureshome
[5] Lee, Guy. The Poems of Catullus. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990.

Side Note,

Another thought on love and music…

I was thinking about the concept of the oral tradition and the importance of “hearing” literature as opposed a conventional (or a more modern way) of reading literature.

Something just occurred to me: music.

Although it’s simple enough to understand on its own, the impact of the Oral tradition didn’t really hit home until I thought about “new music”. By vocalizing literature you gain the power to manipulate a text just by the way you pronounce key parts, and, that by doing this you can bring a new meaning to the text, context, or subtext, each time.

In relation to new music, more often than not, the written work (I'm refering to compositions, songs) have potential to be garbage as far as anything near intellectual, insightful, or revolutionary is concerned. A result of "pop-like" materialisim which sells aesthetic promises instead of real value or worth...

I’m generalizing...

But I’m going with this unfinished thought; trying to make a point…a point which came to me loud and clear when I payed close attention to a song I fully enjoy, and realized there is little to no substance at all…and being one to appreciate music on various levels, I found it both hilarious and insulting.

I jam to this song.
I love this (great) song.
I need a new word for this song.

It’s called:

“We Haven’t Turned Around Yet” - Gomez

We came, we came, we came again
To stem the tide and point the blame
Came back from more
Came back to see what you had in store
Everyone join the line, everyone
Yeah
So you wanna spin the world around?
So you wanna spin the world around?
And anybody else, cut ’em down
So you wanna make catastrophe?
Won’t you send it right over to me
I got some time
Everybody running high
The same, the same, the same again
To steal the time and haunt the graves
Just because it’s there
Don’t mean you see it anywhere
Maybe it’s a trick of the light
Maybe, yeah
So you wanna spin the world around?
So you wanna spin the world around?
And anybody else, cut ’em down
So you wanna make catastrophe?
Don’t you send it right over to me
I got some timeEverybody come alive
Yeah
So you wanna spin the world around?
So you wanna spin the world around?
And anybody else, cut ’em down
So you wanna make catastrophe?
Don’t you send it right over to me
I got some timeEverybody running high
So you wanna spin the world around?
So you wanna spin the world around?
And anybody else, cut ’em down
So you say we haven’t turned around?
So you say we haven’t turned around?
Just everybody else is going wrong
Going wrong

The matter is simple. Before you can fully understand what I mean by any of this, you must HEAR this song. It exudes feeling. It is an incredible song at face value and it makes you feel profound just standing alone- a mess of yourself- there, in your living room, and it invokes emotion in you, it inspires you, it makes you feel…lovely.

And then you read the lyrics…and you feel tricked, or maybe you feel ridiculous, or maybe you still feel the same, only…

You really ‘get it’ now.

I feel this song is a perfect example and alludes to the fact that the “oral tradition” really is more than what we take it for, at first. Sure we all “get” the concept…but you don’t really “get it” until it affects you on your own, personal level with your select choice of material.

It’s worth checking out…hearing those lyrics and reading those lyrics…really are night and day.

So what gives it essence? The sound, the tone, the “accidental” grammatical features, it’s cohesiveness: it’s lexicality in repetition and metaphor. Maybe?

Which leads me into another thought that, beauty if found in the most simple of things…

...and this song as beautiful as it is simple, leaves me confused and appreciative, because I can value its worth in terms of a discovered feeling, found, in accidental simplicity.

(It pissed me off) I was sure it was deep...

Just a rant.

bits n' bites

On Love,

The most passionate love song I have ever encountered is one called “Be Mine” by R.E.M. It is a very simple song but (by that principal alone) exudes extraordinary feeling. It takes you from the beginning of life in love, through the trials and tribulations of life lived as one, through to our final course in life, death.

I never thought of this as funny
It speaks another world to me
I want to be your easter bunny
I want to be your christmas tree
I’ll strip the world that you must live in
Of all it’s godforsaken greed
I’ll ply the tar out of your feathers
I’ll pluck the thorns out of your feet
You and me
You and me
You and me
And if I choose your sanctuary
I’ll want to wash you with my hair
I’ll want to drink of sacred fountains
And find the riches hidden there
I’ll eat the lotus and peyote
I’ll want to hear the caged-bird sing
I’ll want the secrets of the temple
I’ll want the finger with the ring
You and me
You and me
You and me
And if you make me your religion
I’ll give you all you will need
I’ll be the drawing of your breath
I’ll be the cup if you should bleed
I’ll be the sky above the ganges
I’ll be the vast and stormy sea
I’ll be the lights that guide you inland
I’ll be the visions you will see
Visions you will see
You will see
You will see
You and me

- REM



In consideration of the Iliad, and our previous discussions concerning epic poetry, I continued to think (a little abstractly) about love, the condition and theme of it all as being a thread which weaves it’s way through most all poetry. Love is found in the making of a poem, if not all together evident in the poem itself, it can be found in the passion of the poet which by this vehical, lends to his creation. Passionate, highly descriptive and strong, articulate phrases add character and tone to a poem. These grammatical elements acsentuate and are highly representative of the poets determination, or love.
Love is often distinct in its in-distinction.

As a side-note…

I’ve been thinking about love and music. My first thought, off the top of my head, was that, as poetry has dramatically changed over time, as has music changed, evidently so have the ways in which we express love.

Typical of written material and especially material meant for oral composition, as poetry often is, I was considering the “epic” music of the earlier centuries as compared to the poetry of those times…were they representative of each other?

Yes poetry was rich and expressive and complex but was music just as expressive?

I am not considering the great composers (Bach, Mozart, or Beethoven). I am considering prior to 1200c with the emergence of baroque-type music. Music which was popular and contrasted the literature of the time, as it was quite simplistic in nature and detail.

Not unlike today? Where simple “pop-like” lyrics dominate. Simple songs of a simple nature, with little detail, with little to no depth in context, rule. Simplicity dominates the popular vote. Not unlike today, as poetry does not receive the popular vote.


Simple…easy…mindless…

These are valuable assets.

Anyone want to pick-up on what I’m putting down?

The Ingrediants:

Ween-out the sense of it all,
Add a little glam,
Ten minutes or less,
You have a top ten plan.

The method:

Turn your mind off,
There’s no time to think,
If you want to make it big,
You’ve gotta have what it takes,
A gimic.

Gone are the days,
Of taking your time,
Enjoying eachother,
A piece of work, a good rhyme,
We just can’t seem to wait,
To re-create another fake.

Thus, an unfinished thought.

Quite fitting.

A Comment: Homer's Iliad

A Comment: Homer’s Iliad

The idea of heroism and the characteristics which are attributed to “the hero” have been the primary focus in past topics concerning Greek literature including mythology, and the Iliad. I find one of the most intriguing themes which is crucial to foreseeing the rise and development of tragedy in Homer’s Iliad, occur within the relationship between mortals and gods. Gods represent hierarchal, powerful beings with diverse and insurmountable power. Compared to mortals, they share similarities of greed, love, hate, lust, and honor. The most idealized similarity which is seen in the Iliad is the result of uncontrollable rage, the lust after power and dire devotion to honor.

Evidence of tragedy, before tragedy begins, is shown within the relationship between the gods. Their impact is crucial. Their role is crucial. The gods foreshadow the future events of the play as well as set the tone.

Supreme beings themselves, the inter-play they experience with eachother, whether it be positive or negative, has little effect on their own kind. Gods are immortal. This being said, it is important to see the effects of their actions when directed toward the mortals in the story, as their presence as well as their intentions, directly shape the events which take place on earth. It is in this recognition that the audience shares in the tragedy, before the entirety of the tragedy occurs, as we see these events unfold, we have the opportunity to “read between the lines” and concern ourselves with the unfortunate impact the gods have on the humans in regards to their personal agenda being a driving force which empowers a series of unfortunate events.

Characteristic of mythology, each god has their “strong suit” in which they have a certain power, signature to them alone. There are various representations of this throughout the literature, whereby human emotion appears enhanced by the presence or interference of a god. This shows that the gods play an almost active role in human affairs. The disturbing element in this theme is that, while the gods “play” with eachother and interact in violent or scarcastic ways which are either a result of vengeance or gratitude, the result of their behaviour does not affect their kind, as it would with mortals.

Therefore, their actions are very dangerous when imposed onto human circumstance- physical or emotional. They become the tone, the driving force, the sometimes physical force, behind the events which take place. Their own agenda of greed or vengeance between eachother, becomes a game…a game which represents life or death to mortals.

In a modern sense, the idea of gods playing a role in which dictated or manipulated the path of the human, can be compared to what we consider human consciousness. What we think and feel…what “drives us” to act certain ways, is a result of our inner conscious. In this light, it is as though Homer is depicting the natural and animalistic senses which are characteristic of human nature and shows the impact of civilization and maybe even the impact and integration of religion in human existence, which makes these “raw” instincts submerge until something triggers those instincts again…such as the voice of the gods, or rather, the voice of the human conscious.

That’s all.