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O brave new world that has such sharp readers L On 25 September 2014 18:34, Douglas Barbour <[log in to unmask]> wrote: > Ha, well I take Andrew's point, somewhat & generally, but also, rereading, > see those final ones as carrying a sharpened stick, & inviting either > complete abjection or sudden recognition, & that bifurcation leads both > back into the poem as a whole or onwards to whatever.... > > Doug > On Sep 25, 2014, at 5:25 AM, Lawrence Upton <[log in to unmask]> > wrote: > > > 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 > >> > > > > Douglas Barbour > [log in to unmask] > > Recent publications: (With Sheila E Murphy) Continuations & Continuation 2 > (UofAPress). > Recording Dates (Rubicon Press). > > that we are only > as we find out we are > > Charles Olson >