A chance encounter....or was it....

Last week I had an experience that I will not soon forget! It was Monday afternoon and I had just given my presentation in our class which, as we all know, was to apologize for poetry. As I walked into the Sub I spotted my friends still sitting where I had left them, so I joined them. They were all aware that I had just given a presentation in my English class so they asked me how it had gone. My friend Dan said, "now what exactly was it about again?" I laughed and tried to quickly explain that I was defending poetry or, in other words, trying to explain the point of studying and reading stories that aren't necessarily true. The crazy thing was that he in turn began telling me that he himself has never understood the point.....he said that reading novels and other such pieces of literature seemed like a waste of time. I shook my head at him as I thought to myself "here we go again." On this occasion, however, he asked if I would give a summary of what I had said in class because he honestly wanted to know my opinion on the subject. (side note: he is an engineering major) I began telling him about Plato, Sydney, Frye, etc. and was able to deliver a very convincing case for why it is important to study and experience literature. After I finished, he looked at me and thanked me very sincerely because he was now convinced that it not only makes sense, but that it is important too! It was so amazing to take all of the things that I have learned in this class, and that I already felt in regards to literature, and share it with someone who was not at first inclined to agree with me. What an amazing opportunity to put into practice that which I had previously only written about-I will forever be grateful for such a chance!

Ghostlier Demarcations, Keener Sounds

It is a crisp fall day as groups of people from around the world crowd into the Civic Center in downtown Great Falls, Montana. The excitement is high as each person settles into their seat and watches with breathless anticipation as the crimson curtain is drawn back to reveal a full orchestra. A cello begins the strains of Bach’s cello suite No. 1 and soon every instrument is moving together, creating such a blend of sound that the beauty captures everyone who listens. Thoughts of life and its troubles melt into the distant past as each person is caught up in the perfection of the moment. It never occurs to anyone to stop entering into the experience and ask “I wonder what the composer intended or meant by this piece?” or “What is the purpose of listening to this?” That is because they recognize the aesthetic quality that the music gives to each moment. Why is it that many people can understand this concept when it relates to music, and then stand in judgment of literature saying that if it isn’t true (such as history is considered), then it has no use? Just as Walter Pater writes, “all the arts aspire to the condition of music” (Glazer). Literature doesn’t have to mean something, teach something, or even be truthful. In fact, the beauty of literature is that it offers us a golden world, becomes the voice by which order is created, and it gives everything the best possible quality that it can have.

Before entering into a discussion on the arguments against literature, it is important to define what is considered literary. According to Northrop Frye, “All structures in words are partly rhetorical and hence literary, and the notion of a scientific or philosophical verbal structure free of rhetorical elements is an illusion” (Frye 350). Therefore, texts written on science and history alike would be considered literary. The difference that I would like to point out is that most people consider literature, such as these, to be very useful and “didactic.” When looking at poetry, fiction, etc. that does not necessarily fit into this definition, many people will claim that they serve no purpose. (For the purpose of this paper I am going to refer to all literature that doesn’t fall under this definition as “poetry.”) This argument has been around for a number of years. In fact, Plato himself considered the poet to be both “useless” and a “liar.”

When confronted by some peers, who are studying engineering, about my choice to pursue English, their response was quite unanimous and similar to this. Why study English? What is the point? They also like to imply that even if someone reads poetry as a means of enjoyment, it is still pointless because it is unrealistic and doesn’t teach you anything. On page 411 of the book Don Quixote by Cervantes, a similar discussion can be found. The canon describes his idea of books on chivalry (such as novels) and how that kind of writing and composition “belongs to the genre called Milesian tales, which are foolish stories meant only to delight and not to teach, unlike moral tales, which delight and teach at the same time” (Cervantes 411). In other words, he would agree with the engineering students that literature has no purpose if it only delights and does not teach. He also believes, as seen in later lines, that if someone is going to write fictional tales, they must “engage the minds of those who read them” (Cervantes 412) and restrain from exaggeration while also moderating impossibilities. The style of books that do not adhere to these constraints are considered by the canon to be-

“fatiguing, the action incredible, the love lascivious, the courtesies clumsy, the battles long, the language foolish, the journeys nonsensical, and, finally, since they are totally lacking in intelligent artifice, they deserve to be banished, like unproductive people, from Christian nations” (Cervantes 412).

This view may seem a bit harsh in its assessment, however, it is not unlike the flippant remarks made by those who fail to see what kind of a world the poet can offer, regardless of whether it imitates real life or not.

Consider a woman who is falsely accused of murder and is thrown into jail for life; within her womb, rests a child. Eight months later a baby girl is born, only she is without sight. Over the next ten years the mother and daughter live together in a small cell with cold stone walls, a worn mat, a rickety old bed, a nightstand, and a small candle. Their greatest treasure, apart from each other, is a tattered book of poetry that the mother has read to the little girl almost since the day she was born. As a result, the girl has grown up only knowing the world which was described and created for her through the poems. Despite her circumstances and the brazen world that she is a part of, she only knows the world as beautiful, complete, and perfect. Many people look at the world through a blindfold, they only see the imperfections, the harshness, and even if they do see beauty, it is only a shadow of what it could be. Sir Philip Sydney explains this by pointing out that nature only gives us a brazen world, whereas the poet delivers a golden one (Sydney). This is because the poet is not limited by reality, he gives us a world that expands the rises of imagination and is without constraints. To those people that claim that being didactic is the key to literature’s usefulness, I would agree with Shelley that imagination is often superior to logic and reason (Shelley). We have enough people in the world that allow themselves to stay in the arena of that which is reasonable and logical, yet there is a whole world of possibilities out there that we fail to comprehend without the poet’s help.

Not only does the poet give us a golden world, but through the poet’s words, things within life can take on more meaning and come into alignment and order. There is power in words. In fact they can create a whole new world, and things that previously had little meaning are given a purpose as they take on whatever characteristic the poet wants to give them. The poet is not unlike the woman in the poem “The Idea of Order at Key West,” by Wallace Stevens, who uses words to create her world.

“She was the single artificer of the world
In which she sang. And when she sang, the sea,
Whatever self it had, became the self
That was her song, for she was the maker”( Stevens ).

When she sang, objects that previously stood alone came together through her voice and became a part of the world that she was creating. Through her words, a transformation took place and even nature itself submitted its will to her voice.

Most people look at nature as engulfing-they feel that they are a part of it instead of it being a part of them. In other words, the general view is that nature is the container which holds every living thing. Northrop Frye suggests that, through certain levels of poetry, we can move into a new phase where-

“Nature becomes, not the container, but the thing contained……… Nature is now inside the mind of an infinite man who builds his cities out of the Milky Way. This is not reality, but it is the conceivable or imaginative limit of desire, which is infinite, eternal, and hence apocalyptic” (Frye 119).

The word apocalypse literally translates to “the lifting of the veil” (Apocalypse). In other words, who else but the poet gives us the courage to remove the veil or constraints and see things however we want- through the eyes of our desires which stem from the limitless supply of imagination. Through the voice of the poet, a whole new way of looking at things around us is realized; Wineskins become a giant’s head, peasant girls become noble maidens, and stinky fishing docks become “emblazoned zones and fiery poles” (as described in The Idea of Order at Key West). One can choose to look at this chaotic word, shielding their eyes from seeing order within it, or the choice can be made to read literature that removes the veil, and allows us to see a rose among the thorns, a crystal among the shattered glass, or order among the tangled mess of reality.

The truth of the matter is that we do live in a world that can be chaotic, bleak, harsh, and gloomy; people would love to see things change, yet they lack the conviction that things could ever be different. The historian tells us that things have always been this way, the philosopher tells us that according to our best knowledge we can’t change the way things are; yet the poet, offers an alternative. The poet paints the picture of the potential beauty that everything has. Without the poet we may never see this beauty because we are afraid to dream, afraid to imagine outside the realm of possibility- afraid to build our cities out of the Milky Way. That is because we live in reality; people only want to dream up to what is “realistic” and possible. Yet when we read a story, even if there is little reality to it, we can begin to look for the beauty and possibilities in every moment. Right now I wish so badly that I could stop writing this paper and instead go hike way up in the mountains, follow fresh tracks in the snow, build a shelter out of pine branches, start a fire, and sing until stars come out and dance across the sky; however, all of that requires time and a great deal of it. Here is where poetry finds its way into my hands and reminds me that I can dive into pages and pages of outdoor adventures, travel around the world and, in fact, live an entire lifetime, in the span of only an hour. A few words by William Blake describe this phenomenon perfectly:

“To see a world in a grain of sand
And heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour “(Blake).

Through poetry, I can experience eternity in an hour all while gaining moments that are at their best possible quality because they belong to a world with no faults. If I was to trek through the mountains right now I would be up to my knees in snow, and there would be the possibility of encountering numerous annoyances. By reading about such an adventure I not only cut down on time, but there would be no wet feet, cold wind, bugs, interruptions, etc. only an experience complete with all the beauty possible when not constrained by “reality.”

People need to stop asking what the use is of literature that isn’t true or “realistic”. They need to suspend their disbelief when reading and instead gain from everything they read, the aesthetic quality that it offers. When we enjoy music, we do not focus on what it is teaching us because it is not about the didactic quality, it is about the experience. This concept can be applied just as well to literature as it is to music. When I pick up a piece of poetry, I read it for the experience whether it teaches me anything or not. This experience takes place in a golden world; one that is created without constraints or limits placed on the imagination, it creates and reveals order in the midst of chaos, beauty in the midst of disaster, and gives our moments immortality and the very best possible quality that they can have. As Stanley Fish pointed out, “Poetry is that which one sees with poetry seeing eyes” (Mecklenburg); those who do not wish to smell the roses will walk right past them, just as those who do not wish to see the aesthetic quality that poetry gives to the world will not read it. We all have the choice to see poetry for its value or to turn our backs on it and call it useless; however, my English Professor Dr. Sexson would probably say that if you have an issue with a piece of poetry, the real problem lies not with the work itself, but with you.

References

"Apocalypse." Babylon. 18 Nov. 2008 .

Blake, William. "William Blake (1757-1827)." 2000. 20 Nov. 2008 .

Cervantes Saavedra, Miguel De, and Harold Bloom. "Chapter XLVII." Don Quixote. Trans. Edith Grossman. New York: HarperCollins, 2005. P. 411-12.

Frye, Northrop, and Harold Bloom. "Tentative Conclusion." P.350. “Theory of Symbols.” P. 119. Anatomy of Criticism : Four Essays. New York: Princeton UP, 2000.

Glazer, Lee. Reviewed work(s): Painting the Musical City: Jazz and Cultural Identity in American Art, 1910-1940 by Donna M. Cassidy. American Music, Vol. 16, No. 2 (Summer, 1998), pp. 230-232

Mecklenburg, Rosanna. "9 specific critics." Weblog comment. Decluing, vigilence and chalis. 3 Nov. 2008. 22 Nov. 2008 .

Shelley, Percy B. "A Defence of Poetry." Bartleby.com. 18 Nov. 2008 .

Stevens, Wallace. "The Idea of Order at Key West." 18 Nov. 2008 .

Sydney, Sir Philip. "The Defense of Poesy." Bartleby.com. 19 Nov. 2008 .

~Innocence~

Over the last several days there is a song that I have played over and over.....finally today, it occurred to me why I am so drawn to this song, and that it has ties to what we have discussed in English 300. The song is "Innocence" by Avril Lavigne (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ir2Sg_8hC3w) and the lyrics go like this:


Waking up I see that everything is OK
The first time in my life and now it's so great
Slowing down I look around and I am so amazed
I think about the little things that make life great
I wouldn't change a thing about it
This is the best feeling

[Chorus]
This innocence is brilliant
I hope that it will stay
This moment is perfect
Please don't go away
I need you now
And I'll hold on to it
Don't you let it pass you by

I found a place so safe, not a single tear
The first time in my life and now it's so clear
Feel calm, I belong, I'm so happy here
It's so strong and now I let myself be sincere

I wouldn't change a thing about it
This is the best feeling

It's a state of bliss, you think you're dreaming
It's the happiness inside that you're feeling
It's so beautiful it makes you wanna cry
It's a state of bliss, you think you're dreaming
It's the happiness inside that you're feeling
It's so beautiful it makes you wanna cry

It's so beautiful it makes you wanna cry
This innocence is brilliant
Makes you wanna cry
This innocence is brilliance
Please don't go away
Cause I need you now
And I'll hold on to it
Don't you let it pass you by


How very interesting that this song speaks to the same ideas that are brought up in both "My Book and Heart Shall Never Part," and "Don Quixote." The song shows the emotions that get stirred up when discussing innocence and its loss. When we are innocent, we look at everything as beautiful, we "think about the little things that make life great." It is a reality that we will indeed lose much of our innocence, however, I have found that many people (including myself) wish to remain in that beautiful state. The chorus of this song echos a place that I have often been, wishing that my innocence would stay forever, never go away, and that I could hold onto it because I need it. Innocence allows you to look at the world the way that DQ does....in fact the other characters in Don Quixote have let there innocence drift so far away, that they simply cannot relate to DQ's desire to see the world the way it used to be- before the veil of innocence was removed from their eyes. I am realizing, however, that we still encounter moments of innocence. They can be recognized by this --

It's a state of bliss, you think you're dreaming
It's the happiness inside that you're feeling
It's so beautiful it makes you wanna cry

When we encounter these moments, we must grasp onto them and then proceed to carry them with us into the harsh reality of life as we have come to know it.

Touchstone....

"I began by seeing how man was formed by circumstances--and what are circumstances but touchstones of his heart? And what are touchstones but provings of his heart, but fortifiers or alterers of his nature? And what is altered nature but his Soul? --and what was his Soul before it came into the world and had these provings and alterations and perfectionings? --An intelligence without Identity--and how is this Identity to be made? Through the medium of the Heart? And how is the heart to become this Medium but in a world of Circumstances?"

-John Keats

In response to Dr. Sexson's request, I will now share with you a poem that, upon using the above description from Keats, would be referred to as a "touchstone" for me. My understanding of what Keats is depicting may not be exactly what he intended, however, I would hate to fall into the intentional fallacy by failing to share my response to this concept, so here it is.

When we look at our past and then look to our future, we must understand that from birth until death, our lives will be made up of circumstances. These circumstances serve to teach us, alter our nature, impact us, and mold our hearts- they also prove what our hearts contain and are made of. The alterations of our nature are really the alterations of who we are at our core, in our souls. When we were created in our mother's wombs, our souls held the opportunity for intelligence yet they did not yet have an identity. What forms our identity? What else but the very circumstances that build our lives-the emotional ways that we respond to them; anger, fear, joy, etc. things that we carry in our hearts from one circumstance to another. It makes sense then to say that our heart is the medium used to create our identity. However, without the circumstances, our hearts would be nothing more than an empty slate, a potential tool, a place void of identity and passion....

With this fresh insight, I have began to examine my circumstances to see what has given them meaning. I have found that, indeed, the way that my heart is touched and what it carries, gives them meaning and the ability to be a building block in my life.

In all honesty, my heart has been carrying hurt and sadness....a "touchstone" of my heart that is serving to alter me, perfect my strength, and form my identity at this point in my life is going through the experience of my grandfather's Alzheimer's with him. I live in my grandparents home and, as a result, am confronted with the reality of the situation on a regular basis. You may not be following me at this point, and instead wondering why I am sharing my life with you, but I do so because it provides the background for what my touchstone poem at this point is.

When I was reading through one of my old literature books, I came upon this poem that can be described as something that alters my life and touches my heart because of its familiarity.

Alzheimer's

"He stands at the door, a crazy old man
Back from the hospital, his mind rattling
Like the suitcase, swinging from his hand,
That contains shaving cream, a piggy bank,
A book he sometimes pretends to read,
His clothes. On the brick wall beside him
Roses and columbine slug it out from space, claw the mortar.
The sun is shining, as it does late in the afternoon
In England, after rain.
Sun hardens the house, reifies it,
Strikes the iron grillwork like a smithy
And sparks fly off, burning in the bushes--
The rosebushes--
While the white wood trim defines solidity in space.
This is his house. He remembers it as his,
And the garage, the rhododendron he planted in back,
A younger man, in a tweed hat, a man who loved
Music. There is no time for that now. No time for music,
The peculiar screeching of strings, the luxurious
Fiddling with emotion.
Other things have become more urgent.
Other matters are now of greater importance, have more
Consequences, must be attended to. The first
Thing he must do, now that he is home, is decide who
This woman is, this old, white-haired woman
Standing here in the doorway,
Welcoming him in."

--Kelly Cherry


It is my belief that touchstone passages and moments do not only flow from a place of elevated joy and happiness, but from a place of understanding; Where you encounter something that strikes you hard, gives you new insight, redefines who you are, and overall touches you deeply.

~The Sublime~

This whole idea of the "sublime" is a fascinating one. Sublime comes from the Latin word sublimis, which means "to look up from." In other words, this is experienced when we encounter something that elevates our thoughts, emotions, etc. above the natural, or above our consciousness, taking us into what (if I understand right) Frye would call the world of anagogy.

I have a very special place in my heart for music and, throughout my life, I have had trouble expressing what music does to me- what it makes me feel and experience. It has previously been something that no words could define and to which nothing could be compared or given justice to. Now, however, certain possibilities are coming together in my mind. When I listen to music, I become wrapped up in emotions and into the powerful sensation that I am flying, dancing, swirling with a force that takes my heart and lifts it up and outside of myself. Now to explain that to the average person may prove to be quite difficult...through the discussions in our class and the insight of Chris, I have come to realize that what happens to me when I encounter music can be summed up in the word "sublime."

This realization is exciting to me because it wraps up all of my emotions, thoughts, and expressions relating to music, putting them into a word which allows everyone (or at least those who understand the sublime) to know that music stirs my heart to look up from my daily circumstances, reality, problems, and fears, separating myself from them and allowing me to have, what I would call, a divine/religious experience. Some of the music that has the greatest affect on me in this way is from artists such as Celtic Woman. In order to enter into the sublime with me, I will post a link for one of their videos. Sit back, close your eyes, and enjoy.........


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sfO6JpR5Ip8

Today in class!

Today in class we were introduced to more fascinating literary critics: Hélène Cixous, Wolfgang Iser, Sigmund Freud, and Edward Said.


Heather
Hélène Cixous

-Born in Algeria, 1937

-Jewish

-Wrote without a genre

-Most famous theory "Le rire de la méduse" which encouraged women to communicate with their bodies and not with words.

-Said "It is impossible to define a feminine practice of writing, and this is an impossibility that will remain, for this practice can never be theorized, enclosed, encoded, coded -- which doesn't mean that it doesn't exist. But it will always surpass the discourse that regulates the phallocentric system: it does and will take place in areas other than those subordinated to philosophical-theoretical domination. It will be conceived of only by subjects who are breakers of automatisms, by peripheral figures that no authority can ever subjugate"

Brittini

Wolfgang Iser

-Born in Germany
-PhD in English
-Interested in intercultural exchange
-Believes that meaning are not crated solely by the author

Kyle
Sigmund Freud

-Born in the Australia empire, 1856
-Developed the idea of the id, ego, and super ego
-Godfather of psychoanalysis
-Believed that literature always had sexual desires, phallic symbols, etc. as its underlying theme or motivation.

Jiwon
Edward Said
-Jewish
-Believed any history is not standardized but idealistic
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

-Matthew Arnold-

*Poetry as a "criticism of life"
*Poetry deals with the questions in the meanings of life
*Poetry as a substitution for religion
*"More and more mankind will discover that we have to turn to poetry to provide for us, to console us, to sustain us, and to interprit life for us."
*Notions to take away from the essay:
-Notion of "Touchstones"
-Poetry as a religion

What you should know!

Hayden White has made many contributions to literary criticism, however, here are what I believe to be the most important.

1) Hayden believes that the techniques and strategies that historians and imaginative writers use in the composition of their discourses can be shown to be extremely similar. Essentially his opinion is that the writing of history is a poetic act and that historians and poets have "mutual implicativeness" in their respective techniques of composition, description, imitation, narration, and demonstration.

2) They key words to remember for Hayden White are "Master Tropes." He believes that Master tropes are the basis-the mode of consciousness-for all interpretation; and they resonate with modes of representing the world:

1. Metaphor
2. Metonymy
3. Synecdoche
4. Irony

Too bad this may not make much sense....

As I was going through my notes today, something grabbed my attention in a new way--the word "Apocalypse." In essence, this word means to "remove the veil." The more that we have studied literature and discussed it in class, the more I have come to see how poetry is essentially an apocalypse. This goes right along with our discussion on innocence, because poetry has a way of removing the veil of innocence from our eyes and allowing us to see things in a very new and revealing light. For example, in the movie "My Book and Heart Shall Never Part," the children new little of the world except for what they had seen or been told. When they learned to read and opened up books, however, they began to learn about lust, death, racism, etc. In other words, poetry (used as a metonymy here) slowly pulls away the veil that keeps a child innocent, and opens up their eyes to the reality of what really exists in the "real" world.

Spoken poetry also has a way of removing veils, giving us the ability to see the the true beauty of the world. This can be seen in the poem "The Idea of Order at Key West."

Ramon Fernandez, tell me, if you know,
Why, when the singing ended and we turned
Toward the town, tell why the glassy lights,
The lights in the fishing boats at anchor there,
As the night descended, tilting in the air,
Mastered the night and portioned out the sea,
Fixing emblazoned zones and fiery poles,
Arranging, deepening, enchanting night.

The question being asked here is why, after hearing her sing, did the town suddenly look so much more beautiful, enchanting, and magical. It seem as if, through her words, the town itself did not change, but the way that people looked at the town changed. The veil had been removed from their eyes and gave them the sight needed to see the real potential that the world can have when seen through the eyes of poetry.