Good Lord, Dom
only while walking in the vicinity of Leicester railway station? (I hate
that area y'know, I find it so depressing, even by Lestah standards. And you
must admit that feeling depressed is a quality that this town specialises in
generating, almost as good as Coventry or Northampton in that! I say that
with some feeling as I spent 4 years living just by the station)
And a love of Wendy Cope?
I'd stick to the alcohol if I were you (joking)
I don't think the point about stupidity involves switching one's brains off
altogether, to extend the Eliotic point, he believed that poets had to be
both extremely sophisticated and equally primitive, which I translate as
clever and dumb, at the same time.
I don't find a comparison of poetry and drink satisfactory, yes, the desire
for the two might have a common ground, but the experiences are so
different. I speak as one who is no stranger to either.
Your point about the work of unconscious processes is exactly _it_ which
touches on why I feel dissatisfaction with intellections of poetry, of
tabular schematics of something that is, in its very nature, unpredictable,
unaccountable, unamenable to the voices of control.
Best
Dave
David Bircumshaw
Leicester, England
Home Page
A Chide's Alphabet
Painting Without Numbers
www.paintstuff.20m.com/index.htm
http://homepage.ntlworld.com/david.bircumshaw/index.htm
----- Original Message -----
From: "domfox" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Tuesday, November 27, 2001 10:57 PM
Subject: Re: Back on Planet Earth
> The cerebral dominance of intellection is meat and drink to me. Except
when
> I'm getting drunk, in which case it's drink that's drink to me. Actually,
I
> don't know that my cerebrum is really up to dominating anything very much.
> It's certainly readily enough overpowered - again, drink comes to mind.
>
> I expect the dominance of anything very much is inimical to poetry -
hooray
> for poetry. On the other hand, I don't believe anything good can come of
> switching one's brains off altogether, and have irritated scores (or
fewer)
> of lovers by refusing to do so when asked.
>
> I'd like to pretend that I make up poems by choosing a subject and then
> intellectualising extremely hard about it, just to annoy everybody, but in
> actual fact for me the process tends to involve The Unconscious, A State
of
> Peculiar Reverie (usually whilst walking to, or from, Leicester railway
> station, for some reason) and quite often - I may have mentioned this
> already - *alcohol*. I still love Wendy Cope's poem about policing the
> unconscious of Ted Hughes, though.
>
> Dominic
>
|