Step outside, would you, Andrew.
I have returned to the poem and tried to read it as you have with regard to
your remarks on the last paragraph. I disagree.
Understand that I am really glad you think the poem brilliant and that you
loved it. Also I greatly respect your critical faculty. However (he forms
his hands into mental fists perhaps), having some regard for my own
critical faculty, I disagree
You charge that the final paragraph is
too declarative
out of 'mood' with the above
tidy
Point One. Too declarative for what or whom?
& why is it *too declarative? The poem is full of declarative statements:-
Usually all the religious icons have been smashed.
[...]
Winter is close: the flat extremities
of the inhabitants cast low shadows
[...]
no one succeeds in communicating anything
beyond malice.
[...]
There is too much salt in the soil for proper crops.
There is too much sulphur in the air to breathe correctly;
but a sniggering sort of laughter is permissible.
[...]
There is ample evidence that pepper sprays are only mildly carcinogenic
and are not therefore greatly deleterious to health
unless the target should be grossly asthmatic.
[...]
We must not be scared by the loss of one or two battles.
[...]
Everyone should have several of these in their wardrobe.
[...]
Everything combines to hinder or delay a new campaign.
[...]
The plan was hastily conceived.
Some of them were self-assured;
some of them tried to smile and look composed.
None wanted to fight. None wanted to retreat. None wanted to die.
They copied each others' identity papers and pretended
to relationships they did not have.
[...]
None were well but most survived and all contained their rage
until there should be some possibility of retribution.
[...]
The photographs do not do justice to this excellent piece.
[...]
the guns
are in position and the population has been gradually led
into the demoralising temptations of arcades,baths and banquets.
Point Two.
Regarding the mood, I hope that the above quotes will make it clearer that
the mood of the voice and therefore presumably of the poem as a whole
changes.
There are mechanical reasons for that, which I have gone into on the list
already, though the evidence is there: different sources for quotations for
a start
The last paragraph is fairly close to the voice when it is saying
Cut out the sentimentality. Cut out
all of it or I'll cut it out of you myself.
but it differs as well. It keeps differing.
In the final paragraph, it's aggression at one remove; and bullshit.
It's - for me - in a box with Cameron's remarks in Iraq in the UN just
now; but I don't doubt you have your own examples. (I doubt I'll have
another opportunity so I'll just mention that he near as damn says "Well we
have to do something", my favourite buffoon expostulation just now.)
Point Three.
I dispute that it is a tidy ending. I cannot dispute that it is an ending;
but it doesn't have to be at the end. One draft had it placed after the
long "Cut out the sentimentality" paragraph. As, in yet another draft, the
poem opened with the diamond / axe image.
(It is of course a somewhat sentimental utterance itself, or one aimed at
arousing sentiment i.e. of that type - made up by me but could be anything
from Oswald Mosley of the Blackshirts to Nigel Farage, leader of UK
Independence Party - unfortunately - all too present.)
There is little tidiness! It could be the end of a speech; but it might
also be a groundnote for a speech, to be elaborated upon.
It is less typical of the other paragraphs than many; but I want to stress
the variety.
I think of the poem as something like a mobile which I either realise in
html or some other computer language in order to effect the mobility, or
leave it in one state. I chose the latter because it is more important to
me to stress the jump-cutting than the mobility.
best
L
On 25 September 2014 06:27, Andrew Burke <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Brilliant! I loved it. Somehow I would have left off the last verse - too
> declarative and out of 'mood' with the above. (I am anti tidy endings
> because they invariably colour what has gone before one way or the other -
> but not the reader's way.)
>
> But it's the Hit of the Week, as far as I'm concerned ...
>
> Andrew
>
> On 25 September 2014 02:30, Lawrence Upton <[log in to unmask]>
> wrote:
>
> > Well, as before, I am grateful for such a close reader... I don't have a
> > tv. Haven't had one for over ten years and haven't seen much in 20.
> > Sometimes I may see something on my laptop, but I have the sound turned
> > down - you see a lot you wouldnt see otherwise without the sound! Yes, I
> > get my knowledge of what's going on from the web but more from BBC World
> > Service and Radio 4. Verbal. Still photos. Or when I look out the window
> > and the wind's blowing and moving things.
> >
> >
> > Some of the things in this piece, the events I mean, are made up,
> gestural
> > things, there's a bit where a woman turns her head and her hair moves
> > forwards... One sees that all the time both with friends and intimates
> and
> > people passing in the street
> >
> >
> > The last lines are not quotes for instance. Just made up. I don't doubt
> > someone has said them, but I made them up based on other things people
> have
> > said; but wrote them off the top of my head. Or so I believe. I've been
> > writing this for nearly 20 years! On and off, you know. Those lines were
> > much as they are ten years ago.
> >
> >
> > Some of the writing came, I believe, from an issue of the Cotton Traders
> > catalogue - that or some other clothing catalogue. You can spot that -
> > colours, fabrics etc. I've got a piece I'm performing with Benedict
> Taylor,
> > next month, my voice and his viola, where counting comes in and out of
> the
> > text, but such short outtakes from such a long list of numbers that it
> may
> > seem random.
> >
> >
> > May be random.
> >
> >
> > I'd like to consider the possibility that the voice changes. Can't say
> > how. Can't say more or less anything. To try to explain I'd like to go
> back
> > to that idea of editing film, cutting one section against another.
> >
> >
> > Obviously (?) it's not another Dziga Vertov idea - I think I referred to
> > him before. But important as he is to me, there's no point in just doing
> > the same thing again and again; but it's in that territory. What you can
> > achieve by cutting a text as if it were audio tape.
> >
> >
> > Once that idea is there one doesn't an original continuity to cut.
> >
> >
> > Originally the piece was called Montage. Then I thought it ought to be
> > Conceptual Montage. Then I thought that is not the subject. What's the
> > subject?
> >
> >
> > Laughter.
> >
> >
> > Maybe I'll stop now. I don't know if any of that is any use. I didn't
> > really think about it till you asked. Or rather I may have had a
> different
> > explanation on the tip of my notional tongue. Ive just responded with
> this
> > as if I'm chatting
> >
> >
> > thanks so much
> >
> >
> > best
> >
> >
> > L
> >
> >
> >
> >
> >
> > On 24 September 2014 16:57, Doug Barbour <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> >
> > > Phew, Lawrence.
> > >
> > > I began reading & wasnt sure ow to respond. It seemed, that early part,
> > so
> > > distanced & cool, not partaking of any of the many things/events
> > described.
> > > But it builds, & that voice of no one while mostly staying firm in its
> > > declining any real interest does get involved,& so the build up, the
> > > accumulation of images (mostly from TV or the web?) savages the reader,
> > > despite or almost because of that refusal to emote, or so it felt to
> > me...
> > >
> > > Doug
> > > On Sep 24, 2014, at 6:25 AM, Lawrence Upton <[log in to unmask]>
> > > wrote:
> > >
> > > > a square of denim, squareness imposed
> > > >
> > > > by the photograph containing its image,
> > > >
> > > > buttons done up; head level, tapering into
> > > >
> > > > a kind of wedge which one might call the nose;
> > > >
> > > > all's quiet, the houses smoking, hills deserted
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > the virgin has sumptuous hair, the child god set aside,
> > > >
> > > > her hands clasped together loosely in an ill-fitting jumper.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Usually all the religious icons have been smashed.
> > > >
> > > > He clenches his fist, but does not look at anyone.
> > > >
> > > > The sleeping bag slips slowly off the bed, half unzipped, flaps
> > > >
> > > > folded back, turned down like lapels;
> > > >
> > > > or skin and flesh in a bungled operation;
> > > >
> > > > a joke gorilla breaks through the forest,
> > > >
> > > > pretending to be the god of war,
> > > >
> > > > but no one believes in it;
> > > >
> > > > a young girl scratches her head,
> > > >
> > > > a sign of sophisticated bewilderment
> > > >
> > > > because she is smiling
> > > >
> > > > and does not seem to be at all afraid.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Winter is close: the flat extremities
> > > >
> > > > of the inhabitants cast low shadows
> > > >
> > > > and do not raise themselves above the artificial
> > > >
> > > > darkness coming in off the sea; all growl
> > > >
> > > > at each other and attempt to speak,
> > > >
> > > > but no one succeeds in communicating anything
> > > >
> > > > beyond malice.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Two headless corpses have been laid, face up,
> > > >
> > > > upon each other; hands which slapped together
> > > >
> > > > in a childish game; one man's shirt is glistening
> > > >
> > > > with blood; she looks up at him from the warm floor;
> > > >
> > > > firelight reflects off a bright cheek;
> > > >
> > > > she is smiling; she is welcoming; he hesitates
> > > >
> > > > and then he speaks. She does not listen.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > The steps of the pyramid rise towards midday sun.
> > > >
> > > > A rotten cow's head feeds flies. It is the autumn.
> > > >
> > > > The people have no hope of returning to their homes;
> > > >
> > > > but, perhaps, if they can stop laughing, there is still something
> > > >
> > > > to be done. There shall be no escape, but there is a chance
> > > >
> > > > that some sense of community may be faked in these circumstances,
> > > >
> > > > despite all. They gain nothing by submission,
> > > >
> > > > except heavier burdens. Whether their masters quarrel
> > > >
> > > > with each other or agree, their bondage is equally ruinous.
> > > >
> > > > There is too much salt in the soil for proper crops.
> > > >
> > > > There is too much sulphur in the air to breathe correctly;
> > > >
> > > > but a sniggering sort of laughter is permissible.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Headless corpses descend the escalator.
> > > >
> > > > An attendant calls out the range for the buyers to hear:
> > > >
> > > > green over blue, blue over blue, blue denim. Squared off blues
> > > >
> > > > in curving shapes. Our heavyweight stone-washed classic
> > > >
> > > > is a real classic. Nothing is any longer safe from their greed and
> lust
> > > >
> > > > yet what a mere handful the invaders are.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > She adopts the stance of a man and leans upon his shoulder.
> > > >
> > > > He affects not to see her. He does not reject the advance.
> > > >
> > > > He puts on his glasses, throws his jacket backwards
> > > >
> > > > over the other shoulder, and looks into the middle distance
> > > >
> > > > with smug assurance: blue denim, blue over blue, ecru, black.
> > > >
> > > > There are two styles for men and one for ladies.
> > > >
> > > > Blue denim, blue over blue, green over blue, ecru and black.
> > > >
> > > > Her majesty's equerry takes over the microphone. Looks like
> > > >
> > > > an elongated diamond or a double-headed axe. Bottle. Navy.
> > > >
> > > > Raspberry. White. Cut from a generously-sized unisex block.
> > > >
> > > > Can be worn on its own or underneath a jacket, giving a smart
> > > >
> > > > but casual look. Style reference Alan. He is on his own.
> > > >
> > > > The sky has darkened. Leggings are made from our soft quality cotton.
> > > >
> > > > There is ample evidence that pepper sprays are only mildly
> carcinogenic
> > > >
> > > > and are not therefore greatly deleterious to health
> > > >
> > > > unless the target should be grossly asthmatic. Camel; khaki;
> > > >
> > > > ecru; taupe. Style reference Stan, who has nearly thirty years with
> the
> > > > force.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > We must not be scared by the loss of one or two battles.
> > > >
> > > > Wear your best working clothes, put your hand behind your head
> > > >
> > > > and stretch and laugh. Ankle length. Black, navy, grey marl, ecru.
> > > >
> > > > Everyone should have several of these in their wardrobe.
> > > >
> > > > He pulls a brick from the wall and hurls it towards the enemy;
> > > >
> > > > but they laugh as they come forward. They have water-cannon;
> > > >
> > > > they have rockets; they have curved sticks set with broken glass;
> > > >
> > > > they have the newspapers behind them and bright lights to dazzle.
> > > >
> > > > One size fits all. The same paralysis in the face of the foe;
> > > >
> > > > the same insubordination towards that which had been agreed.
> > > >
> > > > She, however, wore his boots and wore them to great effect,
> > > >
> > > > one leg curled around her, one leg cocked, elbow on it at the knee,
> > > >
> > > > the hand of the other arm and hand sub-system clutching
> > > >
> > > > the ankle of the leg curled round her. She had full lips
> > > >
> > > > and slightly tousled hair; her smile suggested honour and dignity
> > > >
> > > > but stopped short of bloodshed.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > The kids came out of the woods after a hard struggle:
> > > >
> > > > bottle, red, navy, white, birch grey. They were made
> > > >
> > > > from the same heavy fabric as their parents,
> > > >
> > > > the summer now far spent, and they were watching
> > > >
> > > > the points where danger threatens. Bottle; black; navy; birch grey.
> > > >
> > > > Everything combines to hinder or delay a new campaign. Bottles,
> > > >
> > > > broken in fights or by carelessness, it hardly matters. Birch grey,
> > > >
> > > > alder, oak and ash. White where the fires burned the fiercest.
> > > >
> > > > Red of your blood --
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > Cut out the sentimentality. Cut out
> > > >
> > > > all of it or I'll cut it out of you myself.
> > > >
> > > > The plan was hastily conceived.
> > > >
> > > > Some of them were self-assured;
> > > >
> > > > some of them tried to smile and look composed.
> > > >
> > > > None wanted to fight. None wanted to retreat. None wanted to die.
> > > >
> > > > They copied each others' identity papers and pretended
> > > >
> > > > to relationships they did not have. Black, navy, green and red,
> > > >
> > > > Bordeaux and green, style reference Rome. The strong carried the
> weak.
> > > >
> > > > None were well but most survived and all contained their rage
> > > >
> > > > until there should be some possibility of retribution. Navy, dark
> red,
> > > >
> > > > olive, petrol; black, navy, bottle of wine; dark denim, light denim,
> > > >
> > > > they were suddenly upon us, swimming whilst carrying their arms,
> > > >
> > > > their horses under control, the background music synched
> > > >
> > > > to the camera. What could embarrass or defeat a foe who attacked like
> > > that?
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > The photographs do not do justice to this excellent piece.
> > > >
> > > > A small roll neck, the head disabled or cut off.
> > > >
> > > > Other features include an open welt.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > She turns her back to the camera, then turns her head to face it.
> > > >
> > > > The hair flounces forward with the movement; the face starts to
> smile.
> > > >
> > > > The hands are wrong; the jumper's shapeless; but the guns
> > > >
> > > > are in position and the population has been gradually led
> > > >
> > > > into the demoralising temptations of arcades,baths and banquets.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > This is an established classic and is equally suitable for men and
> > women.
> > > >
> > > > He stands behind her with the gun in the small of her back.
> > > >
> > > > They smile at the commandant who is baffled and in despair.
> > > >
> > > > Black. Indigo. Black, indigo. And then she gets the joke
> > > >
> > > > and she just can't stop laughing. I'm going to fall off the log,
> > > >
> > > > you bastard, she says. A woman passing with her dog on a leash
> > > >
> > > > tries to look shocked, can't quite make it. Flecks of mud stain
> > > >
> > > > his white shirt. Slowly she takes off the superfluous rain coat
> > > >
> > > > to reveal her jacket, nautical blue, cactus, India ink.
> > > >
> > > > We've chosen this jacket with great care.
> > > >
> > > > Produced from the finest, heavy grain hide,
> > > >
> > > > it is really a substantial garment. It will get better and better
> > > >
> > > > with age whilst keeping out the worst that the English winter
> > > >
> > > > can throw at you, whilst looking incredibly stylish as well.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > When I consider the motives we have for fighting
> > > >
> > > > and the critical positions we are in, I have a strong feeling
> > > >
> > > > that the united front you are showing today will mean
> > > >
> > > > the dawn of liberty for the whole of Britain.
> > > >
> > >
> > > Douglas Barbour
> > > [log in to unmask]
> > >
> > > http://www.ualberta.ca/~dbarbour/
> > > http://eclecticruckus.wordpress.com/
> > >
> > > Latest books:
> > > Continuations & Continuations 2 (with Sheila E Murphy)
> > > http://www.uap.ualberta.ca/UAP.asp?LID=41&bookID=962
> > > Recording Dates
> > > (Rubicon Press)
> > >
> > > If once a man indulges himself in murder, very soon he comes to think
> > > little of robbing; and from robbing he comes next to drinking and
> > > sabbath-breaking, and from that to incivility and procrastination.
> > >
> > > Thomas De Quincey
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > >
> >
>
>
>
> --
> Andrew
> http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
> 'Undercover of Lightness'
> http://walleahpress.com.au/recent-publications.html
> 'Shikibu Shuffle'
>
> http://abovegroundpress.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/new-from-aboveground-press-shikibu.html
>
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