Archive for the ‘Language’ Category

In Praise of Clever

April 7, 2012

Clever is underrated.

Clever describes one who possesses brilliance, mental sharpness, originality, or quick intelligence. But the word clever also implies shallowness and superficiality.

Fables teach our children that the clever fox is subordinate to the wise old owl. Cleverness is ephemeral but wisdom abides.

According to this distinction between cleverness and wisdom, cleverness is quick and slick whereas wisdom is an invaluable beverage which must ferment over time: wisdom enlightens; cleverness simply amuses. But without intelligence there is no wisdom; there is merely pablum which seeks to comfort.

And even the least refined cleverness has value. Every flash illuminates, if only for an instant.

I hope you enjoy these witty rhymes from Lyrics on Several Occasions. Ira Gershwin was very clever and that is good enough for me.*

Ira Gershwin rhymed embraceable you with irreplaceable you and silk and laceable you in Embraceable You (29-30)

Ira Gershwin rhymed divorcement with of course, meant and he rhymed painless with ball-and-chainless in Sweet Nevada (78)

Ira Gershwin rhymed enjoyment with for girl and boy meant in Nice Work if You can Get it (96)

Ira Gershwin rhymed caress men with yes men and chessmen in How Long has this Been Going On? (277)

Ira Gershwin rhymed four leaf clover time with (my heart) working overtime in ‘S Wonderful (251)

* I realize, of course, that the word clever has often been used to disparage the accomplishments of Jews, just as the word sinister has often been used to impugn their motives. This is not my intention.

Richard W. Bray

Take it Decently

March 17, 2012
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Nadine Gordimer

The remark that did most harm at the club was a silly aside to the effect that the so-called white races are really pinko-grey. He only said this to be cheery, he did not realize that “white” has no more to do with a colour than “God save the King” with a god, and that it is the height of impropriety to consider what it does connote.

—from A Passage to India by E.M. Forster (62)

I stand astonished at my own moderation.

Robert Clive’s response to a Parliamentary Inquiry on the plunder of India

Take it Decently

The obvious difference in pigmentation between the Europeans and Africans is the original point of reference for countless imaginary polarities: black and white, pure and impure, tame and wild, civilized and barbaric, rational and emotional, good and evil, decent and indecent. And in a culture built upon the systematic, racist murder and subjugation of tens of millions of Africans and Asians, members of the dominant class risk much pain and psychic confusion if they are unable to reconcile this tissue of false dichotomies at the core of imperialism.

The barter between the boy and the elderly native in “The Train from Rhodesia” is a microcosm of the imperial enterprise because it amuses the boy to toy with an old man who is attempting to eke out a meager livelihood. Oblivious to his own depravity, the boy represents all those who reveled in the plunder of Southern Africa.

“He laughed. ‘I was arguing with him for fun.’”

When the girl berates the boy for the callousness of his actions, he is “shocked by the dismay in her face.” Because the boy has internalized the imperialist denial of the old man’s humanity, the native is merely a thing to be trifled with for sport.

Unlike her boorish companion, the girl in “The Train from Rhodesia” has empathy for the old man, but as a member of the ruling race, she too is steeped in the toxic juices of Apartheid. Thus, her blindness to the inherent malevolence of imperialism is exposed by her protest that the boy should have found a way to “take it decently.”

The “shame that mounted through her legs and body and sounded in her ears like the sound of sand pouring” is merely the genesis of an appropriate response to a monstrous crime committed against entire populations for centuries.

The indecent mass murder, rape, and pillage of so much of the planet perpetrated by the Europeans over five centuries was carried out in direct contradiction to their notions of civility. When the Europeans commit such atrocities in the name of civilization who then are the real barbarians?

Richard W. Bray

The Steaming Complaint of the Resting Beast

March 11, 2012

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The Steaming Complaint of the Resting Beast


The anthropomorphic train in Nadine Gordimer’s “The Train from Rhodesia” is not a single, neat, easily-envisioned metaphor
. But by utilizing contradictory symbols and images, Gordimer gives birth to a beast like none that ever lived, a creature which embodies human frailties and longings through the collision of beastly, anthropomorphic, and inanimate qualities.

Gordimer’s beast has many human attributes: It is ambulatory, vocal, sighted, blind, lonely, animated, rebellious, respiratory, contentious, melancholy and tragic. Ironically, the totality of these images forge a humanity which by far surpasses that of all but one of the white characters in the story.

Despite its numerous human qualities, Gordimer’s train can also be viewed as a beast of burden. The image of its “blind end pulled helplessly” would be familiar to any farmer who has led an oxen and plough. Also typical of a beast of burden, the train is not a silent, complacent victim. It “grunts”, “jerks” and brays out “the steaming complaint of the resting beast”. As the metaphor becomes less coherent, the train transforms into something at once animal, mechanical, and human.

Both men and beasts cry out when they feel pain, but only humans are capable of comprehending their fate. A train’s whistle is an eerie sound evocative of a howling wolf. And like our Hunting Fathers, the wolf is a carnivore which lives and hunts in small packs. So it is natural for people to associate the wolf’s cry with feelings of existential angst. But whatever the howling wolf may be feeling, its howl is not an existential lament because a wolf is not cognizant of its own mortality. When the train calls out “I’m coming” Gordimer’s metaphor is expanding into something exceeding the images of a train, a beast, or a person.

The train cries out “and again there was no answer” because its whistle echoes the inherent loneliness of self awareness. Just as humans have been calling out to the cosmos through prayers and radio antennae for millennia, the train’s cry is a prayer. Thus the man-made device mocks our craving for an omnipotent creator.

Like the trajectory of a human life, Gordimer’s train travels in one direction “over the single straight track” of time.” And the manner in which human existence is connected to an inescapable fate is captured by the complexity of the metaphor.

Ultimately, we must accept the messiness of the metaphor in order to appreciate its multiple meanings.

Richard W. Bray

William Faulkner and the English Language

February 11, 2012

Carl_Van_Vechten_-_William_Faulkner

(Below are notes from a presentation I gave in graduate school.)

Question: Some people say they can’t understand your writing, even when they’ve read it two or three times. What approach would you suggest for them?

Faulkner: Read it four times.

—Interview with Jean Stein vanden Heuvel 1955 (Meriwether 250)

William Faulkner’s flamboyant use of language is a widely-discussed topic which includes a variety of subjects, including his use of part of speech, punctuation, long sentences, stream of consciousness, redundancy, visual imagery, metaphors, dialect, word clusters, coinages, paradox and poetics (particularly meter).

This presentation will cover some of these topics, particularly

1. Faulkner’s often playful use of parts of speech
2. The significance of sentence structure (in a historical perspective)
3. Word clusters (including redundancy)
4. Coinages (particularly with prefixes and suffixes)

Faulkner’s style is still controversial. Even those who acknowledge his greatness are often annoyed by it. According to Warren Beck:

No other contemporary American novelist of comparable stature has been as frequently or severely criticized for his style as William Faulkner. Yet he is a brilliantly original and versatile stylist. The condemnations of his way of writing have been in part just; all but the most idolatrous of Faulkner’s admirers must have wished he had blotted a thousand infelicities (142).

Placed in its historical context, Faulkner’s style can be seen as a stark contrast to the “muscular” or “masculine” style of prose utilized by many of his contemporaries, particularly Hemingway, Stevens and Cummings. During the fist part of the twentieth century, a lean style (labelled nominalism by Panthea Reid Broughton) was hailed for its commitment to Truth

Wallace Stevens’ dictum: Not Ideas about the Thing, but the Thing Itself

And Cummings and his entire generation seem to have developed an almost paranoid fear of the abstract phrase. (Broughton 12)

Earnest Hemingway, Faulkner’s obvious rival, argued that writing should strip the language clean, lay it bare down to the bone. (Broughton 14)

But nomalism has its limitations. According to Broughton,

Nominalism is reductionist first of all because it ignores the complexity of reality, the evasiveness of truth. It is grounded in the assumption that truth objectively knowable, that perception is entirely accurate (16).

Faulkner took the opposite approach. Because words are so inadequate to capture reality, Faulkner piles words upon words in order to depict a variety of images and ideas which might at least add up to a fragmented picture of reality.

Faulkner on Hemingway:

I thought that he found out early what he could do and he stayed inside of that. He never did try to get outside the boundary of what he really could do and risk failure. He did what he could do marvelously well, first rate, but to me that is not success but failure….failure to me is the best to try something you can’t do, because it’s too much (to hope for) but still try and fail, then try it again. That to me is success (Meriwether 88).

And, He did it fine, but he didn’t try for the impossible. (Slatoff 185)

So we can begin to understand the method in Faulkner’s madness by appreciating that he was trying for the impossible. He did this by experimenting with language and the convention of the novel in a variety of ways. One method was the use of paradox in the form of oxymoron. According to Walter J. Slatoff

The oxymoron, on the one hand, achieves a kind of order, definiteness, and coherence by virtue of the clear antithesis it involves. On the other, it moves towards disorder and incoherence by virtue of its qualities of irresolution and self-contradiction….Traditionally it has often been used to reflect desperately divided states of mind (Slatoff 177)

So Faulkner attempts to achieve clarity by means of depicting confusion. (That’s a paradox.)

Hightower’s face is at once gaunt and flabby
the church has a stern and formal fury
Singing from a church is a sound at once austere and rich, abject and proud
Joe Christmas’ feet move in a deliberate random manner
Armstid’s eye’s at once vague and intense
Abe Snopes’ homestead is a cluttered isolation
Eula Varner seems to exist in a teeming vacuum
Houston and the girl he is to marry: Up to this point their struggle, or all its deadly seriousness…had retained something of childhood, something both illogical and consistent, both reasonable and bizarre

Faulkner’s use of redundancy to clarify meaning is a practice which Edwin R. Hunter has labeled “word hunting.” This involves the author searching for the appropriate word not only in his mind, but on the page as well. Hunter has described eight different types of “word hunting” in the work of Faulkner. (130-132)

1. Questions the exactness of a word.
2. Comments openly about the rightness of a word.
3. Searches for a word only to come back to original.
4. Seeks openly for a word.
5. Records progress, step by step.
6. Corrects word on the spot.
7. Acquiesces in inexact word.
8. Sets down and repeats in.

Faulkner also uses the redundancy of adjective clusters to create a kind of depth in his depiction of reality. Hunter has painstakingly discovered 1416 examples of three-, four-, five-, six-, seven-, eight-, nine-, ten-, and even a thirteen-adjective clusters. (See chart).

Examples: (Hunter 136-139)

Three Adjectives–1009 examples
‘Pa stands over the bed, dangle-armed, humped, motionless
she advanced in identical and anonymous and deliberate wagons…
‘Houston, followed by the big, quiet regal dog’

Four-Adjectives –268 examples
the wealcolored, the strong pallid, Iowacorncolored hair
In the glare its eyes roll with soft, fleet, wild opaline fire

Five-adjective–84 (136)
the last old sapless indomitable unavanquished widow or maid had died’
the big rambling multigalleried multistoried steamboat-gothic hotel

Six-adjective–30 examples (136-7)
a lean, loose-jointed, cotton-socked, shrew, ruthless old man
with his little high hard round intractable canon-ball head

Seven-adjective–16 examples (137)
a brawling lean fierce mangy durable imperishable old lion

Eight-adjective–4 examples (137-8)
the youth fleeing, the forsaken aging yet indomitable betrothed perusing, abject, constant, undismayed, undeflectable, terrifying not in effect but in fidelity
“These may be nine or or even ten adjective clusters. One cannot be sure.”

Nine or more adjective
he approached, chop-striding, bull-chested, virile, in appearance impervious and indestructible, starred and exalted and, within this particular eye-range of Earth, supreme and omnipotent still

Faulkner also utilizes redundancy through a process which Hunter calls “Repeated Cluster Patterns” (139-40).

Examples:

a bell tinkled…high and clear and small

a belltinkled…to make that clear small sound

The little bell tinkled once, faint and clear and invisible

She just looked at me, serene and secret and chewing

She looked at me, chewing, her eyes black and unwinking and friendly

She stood in the road…her eyes still and black and unwinking

She looked at me, black and secret and friendly

We see a good indication of Faulkner’s playfulness in his uncommon use of parts of speech. One example of this is what Hunter calls Adjective Clusters.
Examples:

Stem Adverb Clusters (Hunter 152)

his uncle told it, rapid and condensed and succinct
He shook hands with him, Charles, quick and brief and hard too

-ly-ended Adverb Clusters (Hunter 152)

he was mentally and spiritually, and with only an occasional aberration, physically faithful to her
the group commander was listening…quietly and courteously and inattentively

Faulkner’s coinages are also often amusing and playful. One way he did this was by creating negatives by adding prefixes and suffixes to a variety of words. (Hunter 176-8)

Some examples of Faulkner’s wordplay from The Sound and The Fury

Parts of speech
Jason snuffled (68)

wind chill and raw (290)

anticked (297)

he loaded himself mountainously (268)

Coinages via prefixes and suffixes:

unimpatient (87)

peacefullest (174)

unsecret (177)

unhurriedly (288)

unmindful (297)

paintless (299)

Paradox:

clairvoyant yet obtuse (280)

Conclusion:

Maybe William Faulkner was greatest American novelist of the twentieth century; maybe he was an unreadable buffoon. What cannot be argued is that he continues to exert a tremendous influence upon the conventions of modern fiction.

Endnotes

Beck, Warren. William Faulkner’s Style, William Faulkner: Three Decades of Criticism

Ed. Frederick J. Hoffman and Olga W. Vickery. Lansing: Michigan State UP, 1960.

Broughton, Panthea Reid. William Faulkner: The Abstract and the Actual. Baton Rouge:

Louisiana State UP, 1974.

Faulkner, William. The Sound and the Fury New York: Random House, 1990.

Hunter, Edwin R. William Faulkner: Narrative Practice and Prose Style. Washington,

DC: Windhover Press, 1973.

Meriwether, James B. and Michael Millgate. Lion in the Garden: Interviews with

William Faulkner, 1926-1962. New York: Random House, 1962.

Slatoff, Walter J. “The Edge of Order: The Pattern of Faulkner’s Rhetoric.” William

Faulkner: Three Decades of Criticism Ed. Frederick J. Hoffman and Olga W.

Vickery. Lansing: Michigan State UP, 1960.

Richard W. Bray

Some Provocative Sentences

January 7, 2012

The most lively thought is still inferior to the dullest sensation.

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By the time I was done with the car it looked worse than any typical Indian car that had been driven all its life on reservation roads, which they always say are like government promises—full of holes.

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I tell you his mind bled almost visibly.

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Why should so much poetry be written about sexual love and so little about eating—which is just as pleasurable and never lets you down—or about family affection, or about the love of mathematics.

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In the morning there was a big wind blowing and the waves were running high up on the beach and he was awake a long time before he remembered that his heart was broken.

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Well, then, says I, what’s the use you learning to do right, when it’s troublesome to do right and ain’t no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same?

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Perhaps, when we remember wars, we should paint ourselves blue and go on all fours all day long and grunt like pigs. That would surely be more appropriate than noble oratory and shows of flags and well-oiled guns.

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“Keep your pores open.”

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“But, by what I have gathered from your own Relation, and the Answers I have with much pain wringed from you; I cannot but conclude the Bulk of your Natives, to be the most pernicious Race of little odious Vermin that Nature ever suffered to crawl upon the Surface of the Earth.”

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“There is special providence in the fall of a sparrow.”

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It is only when our appointed activities seem by a lucky accident to obey the particular earnestness of our temperament that we can taste the comfort of complete self-deception.

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“If you could look deep enough into anyone’s character, even perhaps your own, you would find a sense of machismo.”

Compiled by Richard W. Bray

Rough Draft Peer Review WorkSheet and an Amusing Teacher Story

December 9, 2011

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I have students bring two copies of their rough drafts. While the students are doing their peer reviews, I scan the other copy, looking at the structure of the essays rather than proofreading them. The students are free to proofread one another’s essays.

Directions

1. Turn in one copy of paper to instructor.
2. Take two Peer Review Worksheets.
3. Get into groups of 3-4 Students.
4. Take turns reading papers ALOUD to group.
5. Pass paper clockwise (or counterclockwise if you’re feeling rebellious).
6. Silently read another student’s paper and fill out worksheet.
7. Repeat steps 5 & 6.

Rough Draft Peer Review Sheet

Author: __________________________________________________

Reader:__________________________________________________

Paper Title:_______________________________________________

This paper is ______pages long (excluding Works Cited page)

This paper includes a Works Cited page in MLA format: Yes No

Thesis statement is in paragraph # _____

Copy thesis statement verbatim.

Two enlightening quotations from sources that the author utilized are:

and

Two notable sentences that the author composed are:

and

What is the paper’s strongest feature?

An Amusing Teacher Story

During a discussion about ESP, a student informed the class that he possessed a “sixth scent.” Miraculously, I resisted the temptation to say, “You’re telling me, buddy.” (Life rarely provides such a perfect straight line.)

by Richard W. Bray

On Redundancy, Oxymora, and Grammatical Correctness

November 19, 2011

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It would be redundant to say that Dave was “completely devastated” when his hamster died because there cannot be degrees of devastation. I can be extremely scared by radio reports of zombies in my neighborhood, but it would be inexact to say that I am extremely terrified. Conversely, it would be oxymoronic* to declare that Dave was only “slightly devastated” by the news of his hamster’s untimely demise.

For the poet (by which I also of course mean the novelist) the phrases completely devastated and slightly devastated have all sorts of wonderful possibilities. However, writers seeking precision with their words (students enrolled in a Freshman Composition class, for example) should avoid such phrases.

* George Carlin has helpful lists of redundancies and oxymora in his book Braindroppings

Evaluation

State whether the highlighted portions of the following sentences are redundant, oxymoronic, or grammatically acceptable.

1. I was a tad heartbroken when my wife left me for my younger brother.

2. My aunt is a little bit pregnant.

3. Dresden was totally incinerated by the Allied bombing.

4. Pizza is extremely overrated.

5. My cat was completely dead after the accident.

6. Gertrude was a little bit exhausted after studying six straight hours for her English exam.

7. Osvaldo was completely miserable after he lost the tiddlywinks tournament.

8. The traffic around here is somewhat slow after jai alai matches.

9. Pham was extremely furious when I told her the results from Dancing with the Stars.

10. Ted overdosed slightly on pain medication.

by Richard W. Bray

The Perils of Bardolatry: Harold Bloom’s Limited Perception of Hamlet

September 14, 2011

Harold Bloom

The Perils of Bardolatry: Harold Bloom’s Limited Perception of Hamlet

The activity of art is based on the fact that a man, receiving through his sense of hearing or sight another man’s expression of feeling, is capable of experiencing the emotion which moved the man who expressed it.

Leo Tolstoy, What is Art? (178)

The essential function of art is moral. Not aesthetic, not decorative, not pastime and recreation. But moral.

D.H. Lawrence, Studies in Classic American Literature (180)

When Kurt Vonnegut was working on Slaughterhouse-Five, he told movie-producer Harrison Starr that it was going to be an anti-war novel.

“Why don’t you write an anti-glacier book instead?” Starr quipped.

Vonnegut found the comment amusing, agreeing that wars are “as easy to stop as glaciers.” This knowledge did not dissuade Vonnegut from completing his masterpiece because he realized that no work of art could ever rectify the human situation, and only the silliest sort of fool creates a work of art hoping somehow to fix the world. (This is what logicians refer to as assigning an irrelevant goal.)

But literature has its uses. And W. H. Auden notwithstanding, poetry makes all sorts of things happen. Great works of art render our world a lot more beautiful and slightly less confusing.

Harold Bloom, one of America’s most acclaimed literary critics, has released a curious collection of musings on William Shakespeare’s Hamlet entitled Poem Unlimited. According to Bloom, “of all poems” Hamlet is the “most unlimited,” and, as a “meditation upon human fragility in confrontation with death,” the play “competes only with the world’s great scriptures” (3).

Bloom has long been an idiosyncratic critic, cocksure about his own brilliance and emphatic about the singular authenticity of his opinions. His general predisposition towards even the most revered literary figures is often miserly in terms of handing out approbation. For example, Bloom dismisses Matthew Arnold’s oeuvre in one sentence: “Arnold, long admired both for his poetry and for his literary criticism, was not particularly good at either” (The Best Poems of the English Language 684).

And like the notoriously fussy Mikey from the Life Cereal advertisement of my youth, when Bloom finally comes across something that pleases him, he really likes it.

Hamlet remains our world’s most advanced drama, imitated but scarcely transcended by Ibsen, Chekhov, Pirandello, and Beckett. You cannot get beyond Hamlet, which establishes the limits of theatricality. (7).

Of course, Bloom is hardly the first critic to gush over Hamlet.

It is perhaps not necessary to emphasize the quality of the prose in Hamlet. Here are passages which represent the highest point Shakespeare ever reached in this medium….it is the excellence and the importance of the prose which separates Hamlet from, and in many ways above, all the other plays (George H. W. Rylands, Words and Poetry 159).

So Bloom, a devout secularist who considers “Bardolatry” to be “only another name for authentic response to Shakespeare,” is ecstatic about Hamlet (7). This play’s the thing for Bloom, and its eponymous hero is the pinnacle of literary achievement, eliciting rapturous bellows of praise from the usually cantankerous critic:

[Hamlet] himself is a frontier of consciousness yet to be passed (7);

Hamlet always has had nothing in common with his father, his mother and his uncle. He is a kind of changeling…fathered by himself (9);

Hamlet becomes the freest artist of himself in all literature (51);

We cannot play upon him: he is cleverer than we are, and more dangerous (54);

[T]he likes of] whom we have scarcely encountered before (82);

[H]e is more intelligent than you are, whoever you are (88);

[H]e is a mortal god in an immortal play (90);

Hamlet is the truth, insofar as any hero of consciousness can be (96).

Thus inebriated in adoration, Bloom almost completely ignores the enigma at the core of Hamlet’s personality which has confounded and infuriated critics for centuries: Yes, Hamlet is a devilishly clever young man, full of all sorts of wonderful words. But he is also cruel, capricious, and ditheringly indecisive. Indeed, the very expression “playing Hamlet” is a synonym for indecisiveness.

No one could seriously question Bloom’s assertion that Hamlet is a font of fabulous words. But if, as D. H. Lawrence argues, the moral function of art is paramount, then there is no escaping the fact that Hamlet is an abject failure as a man. If Hamlet had simply killed Claudius (the man who murdered Hamlet’s father), so much senseless death and mayhem could have been avoided. The Polonius family—who, whatever their faults, were decent, loyal and loving human beings—is utterly destroyed due to Hamlet’s vacillating stupidity.

Unlike Hamlet, Laertes has no need to navigate a sea of words in order to determine the right course of action. Hamlet himself speaks of Laertes as a “great gentleman,” and Hamlet admires the “bravery of his grief.” Furthermore, the similarity of their plight is not lost on Hamlet, who says of Laertes, “by the image of my cause, I see/The portraiture of his.”

Yet Harold Bloom will have none of it: “Laertes is too absurdly slight to be Hamlet’s ‘second self,’ as many critics aver” (104).

Along with Laertes, the other heroic figure in Hamlet is Horatio. According to Hamlet, Horatio is

A man that fortune’s buffets and rewards
Hast ta’en with equal thanks: and blest are those
Whose blood and judgement are so well commedled
That they are not a pipe for fortune’s finger
To sound what stop she please. Give me that man
That is not passion’s slave, and I will wear him
In my heart’s core, ay, in my heart of heart,
As i do thee.

Again, Bloom is unwilling to listen, not even to Hamlet:

Though critics have asserted that Hamlet finds qualities in Horatio that are absent from himself, they are plainly mistaken. Hamlet is so various that he contains every quality, while Horatio, totally colorless, has none to speak of (15).

Alan Lerner jested that “The French don’t care what they do actually/As long as they pronounce it properly.” Similarly, Harold Bloom doesn’t care what Hamlet does, actually—whom he berates, whom he stabs, whom he has murdered, whom he brutishly badgers to the point of suicide, how many ways he contradicts himself, how many people die for his indecisiveness—as long as Hamlet collocates his lovely words better than anyone else.

by Richard W. Bray

Application #6

July 1, 2011

Matthew Arnold

Application # 6
(Something I wrote in graduate school)

The “interpoetic relationship” between Matthew Arnold’s Dover Beach and Anthony Hecht’s The Dover Bitch could hardly be less subtle. Hecht “clears poetic space” for himself by means of a “purposeful misreading” of Arnold in which Hecht inserts himself as a peripheral character in “Dover Beach”. This playful approach belies Harold Bloom’s contention that poets inevitably grapple with the “anxiety of influence” of prior works.

“Dover Bitch” is a lighthearted parody which mocks the sincerity and the seriousness of the original text. Hetch does this by transforming the object of desire in “Dover Beach” into a “girl” who is quite unworthy of her lofty stature. The woman spoken to in “Dover Beach” is the recipient of a protestation of a love which is meant to replace all the shattered Victorian certitudes which no longer exist:

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world ….
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain

This is quite a tall order to fill: Make my life meaningful in a world without God. Hecht slyly deflates Arnold’s heroic affirmation of devotion by turning its recipient into a woman far more interested in having a good time than resolving Arnold’s spiritual devastation. Hecht does not merely remove her from her pedestal, but makes her scornful of Arnold’s attempt to recreate her “(A)s a sort of mournful cosmic last resort”.

Hecht’s attempt to supplant his predecessor offers a rich vein to be tapped by those who would extract psychoanalytical deposits from the rivalries which exist between authors. When Hecht proclaims “I knew this girl”, he means it in the biblical sense. It is hard to resist the Oedipal interpretation in which Hecht not only seduces the fictional object of Arnold’s desire, but has his way with his poem as well.

Hecht’s reduction of Arnold’s contemplation on the meaning of life into a tawdry one night stand is possible because Arnold permits him the space to do so. Arnold’s failure to consider how the poem plays to its internal audience makes it possible for the reader to accept her as seeing him as an insufferable blowhard.

by Richard W. Bray

Eleven Stanzas that Strike Like a Chime through the Mind

May 29, 2011

Christina Rossetti

Richard Wilbur

e e cummings

Does the road wind up-hill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.

from Uphill by Christina Rossetti

Let Observation with extensive view,
Survey mankind, from China to Peru:
Reark each anxious toil, each eager strife:
Then say how hope and fear, desire and hate,
O’spread with snares the clouded maze of fate,
Where wavering man, betrayed by venomous pride,
To tread the dreary paths without a guide,
But scarce observed, the knowing and the bold
Fall in the general massacre of gold;
Wide-wasting pest! That rages unconfined,
And crowds with crimes the record of mankind;
For gold his sword the hireling ruffian draws,
For gold the hireling judge distorts the laws;
Wealth heaped on wealth, not truth nor safety buys,
The Dangers Gather as the Treasures rise

from The Vanity of Human Wishes (The Tenth Satire of Juvenal Imitated) by Samuel Johnson

We have it and it doesn’t do us any
Good because nobody gets what they
Deserve more than everybody else.

from Family Values by Robert Pinsky

I am tired of tears and laughter,
And men that laugh and weep;
Of what may come hereafter
For men that sow to reap:
I am weary of days and hours,
Blown buds of barren flowers,
Desires and dreams and powers
And everything but sleep.

from Garden of Proserpine by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of Roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten:
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

from The Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd by Sir Walter Ralegh

Joy’s trick is to supply
Dry lips with what can cool and slake,
Leaving them dumbstruck also with an ache
Nothing can satisfy.

from Hamlen Brook by Richard Wilbur

“I see the guilty world forgiven,”
Dreamer and drunkard sing,
“The ladders let down out of heaven,
The laurel springing from the martyr’s blood,
The children skipping where the weeper stood,
The lovers natural and the beasts all good.”
So dreamer and drunkard sing
Till day their sobriety bring:
Parrotwise with Death’s reply
From whelping fear and nesting lie,
Woods and their echoes ring.
The desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews,
Not to be born is the best for man;
The second-best is a formal order,
The dance’s pattern; dance while you can.

from Death’s Echo by W. H. Auden

To fight aloud, is very brave —
But gallanter, I know
Who charge within the bosom
The Cavalry of Woe —

from To Fight Aloud is Very Brave by Emily Dickinson

I knew a woman, lovely in her bones,
When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them;
Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one:
The shapes a bright container can contain!
Of her choice virtues only gods should speak,
Or English poets who grew up on Greek
(I’d have them sing in chorus, cheek to cheek.)

from I Knew a Woman by Theodore Roethke

and nothing quite so least as truth
—i say though hate were why man breathe—
because my father lived his soul
love is the whole and more than all

from my father moved through dooms of love by e.e. cummings

No memory of having starred
Atones for later disregard
Or keeps the end from being hard.

from Provide, Provide by Robert Frost

by Richard W. Bray