> 13 op/​positions and a poem…

13 op/​positions and a poem…

Par |2018-10-23T05:58:16+00:00 11 octobre 2012|Catégories : Blog|

 

13 op/​positions and a poem for an era of cri­sis

 

  

A Coat

                                                                                                                            

                                                                                                                             I made myself a coat

                                                                                                                             Covered with embroi­de­ries

                                                                                                                             Out of old mytho­lo­gies

                                                                                                                             From heel to throat ;

                                                                                                                             But the fools caught it

                                                                                                                             Wore it in the world’s eye

                                                                                                                             As though they’d wrought it

                                                                                                                             Song, let them take it

                                                                                                                             For there’s more enter­prise

                                                                                                                             In wal­king naked.

 

                                                                                                                                             W.B. Yeats

 

 

 

* Poetry dwells there where lan­guage has become self-conscious. An era of cri­sis by defi­ni­tion is an era of intense awa­re­ness. An era of cri­sis par­ti­cu­lar­ly wel­comes poe­try.

 

 

* I per­ceive poe­try, to a cer­tain degree, as a major act of humi­li­ty : a poem is built upon that which even­tual­ly over­po­wers it. A ‘defea­ted’ or defea­ted nation might have immense pos­si­bi­li­ties for poe­try. 

 

 

* One of the major tasks of poe­try is to defend the ‘ano­ny­mi­ty’ of the artis­tic crea­tion : we tend, main­ly in an era of cri­sis, to become ano­ny­mous, to iden­ti­fy our­selves with any­thing that still insists on staying alive- a neces­si­ty for artis­tic pro­duc­tion.

 

 

* I tend to per­ceive poe­try as the revenge of lan­guage for the void bet­ween silence and the word. Its real depth is revea­led only during a time of cri­sis. 

 

 

* A poem is not done until it renounces eve­ry­thing else than itself- howe­ver, it hasn’t become poe­try until it renounces itself wel­co­ming that other poem that it’s alrea­dy echoed bet­ween its lines. Renouncing one­self for the sake of a new self is one of the major chal­lenges of the cri­sis per­iod.

 

 

* Mind tends to feel uncom­for­table when confron­ted to cri­sis. Mind tends to feel uncom­for­table when confron­ted to poe­try.

 

 

* The crafts­man­ship of a poet is jud­ged, lar­ge­ly, by the abi­li­ty to cope with mis­takes. Surviving in an era of cri­sis lar­ge­ly depends upon this very skill.  

 

* Crisis par­ti­cu­lar­ly wel­comes diso­rien­ta­tion and loss. You get lost in poe­try too, often pur­po­se­ly never without orien­ta­tion though.

 

 

* Language in an era of cri­sis tends to tell the truth but not in that which it expresses. Poetry always speaks the truth but not in that which it expresses. In a cer­tain degree, the poe­tic lan­guage is, by defi­ni­tion, a lan­guage in cri­sis.

 

 

* Crisis could be over­come through that which is left behind after a long pro­cess of slow refi­ne­ment. The poe­tic verse is but the cyni­cal remain of an ago­ni­zing lin­guis­tic enter­prise- the only that forces lan­guage to move on.

 

 

* A poe­tic com­po­si­tion usual­ly averts com­ple­tion. In advance, the poet knows by ins­tinct that good is the poem that does not coope­rate. Resistance typi­cal­ly cha­rac­te­rizes cri­sis- could poe­try pro­fit from that ?

 

 

* A poet, by defi­ni­tion, tries to reme­dy the self by blee­ding someone else’s woods. Humility and com­pas­sion are, by defi­ni­tion, the only reme­dies for a large-scale cri­sis.

 

 

* I am an ico­no­clast mad­ly in love with images. Every poet -in cri­sis- is.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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