On Wed, 3 Nov 1999 13:27:32 +0900, pain wrote:
> I suggested that
>there is an arbitrariness to rhythm --it differs from person to person.
I think you're perhaps confusing "arbitrary" with "varied" here. Each
individual poets' responses to rhythmic requirements are different,
but highly specific to their needs - I'd say. If one takes some
snippets of different poets, at semi-random:
I would like to make it clear that I have bought
this tablecloth with its simple repeating pattern
of dark purple blooms not named by any botanist
(A. Motion: On The Table)
Sure blight back, laid to a true scene
for nothing charm the last delay, as
never been, found dead in a bundle
(J. Prynne: from Not-You)
Be patient, be quiet
God in his landscape
makes you, this is the gentlest pre-prison:
(B. Griffiths: School)
Note that I'm not claiming these as in anyway "representative"
fragments - but they show, I think, the radical _differences_ in
rhythmic impulse, in apprehension of rhythm, between these three -
differs, as you say, from person to person, but not arbitrarily: each
has developed his own set of requirements. I find - predictably,
you'll say - the first deliberate, but languid to a point of
inattention, but the other two both - in their ways - edgy, engaged
with their own beat and stresses, _articulate_ in a way very far
removed from arbitrary.
Walking isn't the only way by miles (Harriet Tarlo where are you? I
know you've done the walk'n'write routine productively for some time
now) but whilst I was, of course, being humorous when I outlined the
difficulties of _literally_ walking-and-writing, I also tried to say
that some recognition of the physical rhythms in and around you are
important. But what is it, please, which makes the donut'n'coffee
regime good for you, Stephen? How does this help the language threads
form into rhythmic specificities for you?
RC
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