I'm not really keen on spending much time demonstrating, line by line,
the shortcomings of John Xiros Cooper's review of OTHER: it's hardly
worth it at this stage, or productive as a framework to move forward
on. As for the introduction we wrote to that anthology, yes, as David
says, it expected some beating, and could, to a large extent, have
predicted the sources. I'm personally far enough beyond it now to see
the imperfections of the intro, (which are very different to the bits
which JXC tousles, it seems to me) and of course, discuss them if
that's what people want. Nothing like a bit of public self-abasement;
and let he or she who has written a flawless anthology introduction
cast the first brickbat. I'm not, however, keen to discuss the
ommissions from the anthology: the list is too long and too
self-evident. I hope we made it clear that our intentions were
non-canonical.
In general, though, what horrifies me about this review is JXC's sheer
negligent academic rudeness to the work included, and its authors, his
critical refusal to take it seriously - although this is indeed an
example of an attitude which caused us to put the anthology together
in the first place. The technique is consistent: quote highly
selectively and divorced from context, and offer no critique other
than a kind of "pshaw!" noise. Thus, quoting a part from Peter Finch's
"Scaring Hens" without explanation, he doesn't even even bother to
comment on the following excerpt:
kid kid kid kootje
kid kid kid kootje
kootje
kutch
kootje
kutch kutch.
- other than to suggest that it's obvious (to him) that few people
would want to buy a book with this in it.
Let me, then, suggest a couple of reasons why I for one like this
small piece, and why I wanted it included in Other, and why I think
it's regretable that few of the rest of the available anthologies of
British and Irish poetry have this kind of work in them.
1. It's deft and well-written: JXC hasn't found it worth noting that
it's essentially a scoring-out from a found text of "Animal Call
Words"; what Finch brings to it is the level of tight aural control
which makes the piece work as an exploration of this little corner of
proto-language.
2. Its value lies in this act of physical exploration of human noise.
A lofty "Paradise Lost" it ain't (I'm happy to report) - nevertheless,
there it is, a small celebration of the noises humans make, of our
shared humanity.
3. As well as being deft and human, it's funny. Admittedly, this isn't
a quality which readers of Xiros Cooper's other critical work would
expect him to appreciate; nevertheless, I do hold it to be important,
and I find the noises which this poem makes (the noises it makes me
make) make me laugh. I'm grateful to its author for that.
I find it sad that we go into a new century still carrying academics
in the system who are unable to -engage- at any level with work with
such qualities, and I find it annoying that there are those such as
JXC who still resort to the old bluster-and-ridicule methods in order
to discredit, rather than seek to engage (which I'd've thought would
be their academic duty, correct me if I'm wrong). Above all, I'm sorry
for the authors, who have on the whole had to put up with this kind of
chauvinism, bile, and yes, fear, I suppose, for most of their lengthy
and honourable careers. Nothing changes, it seems.
On we go -
R
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