Well, bless you, Dave, but it boohoos me then not to eschew your remaining
(and clearly intact) wordplay faculties: what say you to "Buxtehude in
kedgeree"?* (And John Temple, if you're back inna here: Would this be the
sort of "folk attitude" you read in Prynne's ex-song-ui-nation?)
Be well,
Candice
* J.H. Prynne, _Unanswering Rational Shore_:
So by a thousand cuts the sky quivers and re-parts
to shed harvest home, Buxtehude in kedgeree firm
assignment all trusted and coated the word is out
at play in field dilemmas where they grow strong
and split and multiply....
on 1/19/02 1:42 PM, david.bircumshaw at [log in to unmask] wrote:
>> Surely this bespeaks a failure of imagination, Dave!
>
> It more likely bespeaks a streaming cold, Candice, which hath come upon me
> since before the mid of the day, and now doth stuff all imagine-a-native and
> intellect-you-all faculties.
>
> At-ish-hoo!
>
> Best
>
> Dave
>
>
> David Bircumshaw
>
> Leicester, England
>
> Home Page
>
> A Chide's Alphabet
>
> Painting Without Numbers
>
> http://homepage.ntlworld.com/david.bircumshaw/index.htm
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "Candice Ward" <[log in to unmask]>
> To: <[log in to unmask]>
> Sent: Saturday, January 19, 2002 6:30 PM
> Subject: Re: Freedom / Future of the list
>
>
>> on 1/19/02 7:25 AM, david.bircumshaw at [log in to unmask]
> wrote:
>>
>>> Hill's sense of place there, as could my own, be regarded as atavistic,
> even
>>> offensive to non-English English speakers. He is, after all, insisting
> on
>>> the language roots, in space as well as time. Which brings one to the
>>> questions that hedge around Global English, how does one write poetry in
> a
>>> language that once belonged somewhere, and a very small somewhere, but
> now
>>> belongs nowhere, it being, as Ben Jonson would spell it, every-where?
>>>
>>> I don't have that problem mesen because I am still from its heart, but
> I'm
>>> very aware of the dilution of the speech, even here.
>>
>> Surely this bespeaks a failure of imagination, Dave!
>>
>> . . . Then he who was speaking to him answered: "Still, you must sing to
>> me." "What," said he, "must I sing?" And the other said: "Sing to me of
> the
>> beginning. . . ."
>>
>> . . . He began at once to sing in praise. . . .
>>
>>
>> If Paul Muldoon can put Caedmon's _nu sculon herigean_ in the mouth of a
> New
>> Jersey wine waiter in 1999, does it come any less from the heart of this
>> language than you are "still," as you say?
>>
>> The devil you say: Eala middangeard! (Eala upheofen!)
>>
>>
>> Candice
>>
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