1/20/14
To jump or to fly?
"...the author who attempts to organize space while neglecting time is venturing into a field in which materials and the tools - paint, canvas, stone, metal, wood, and camera lens - are more effective than language. He is working in two or three dimensions instead of four and is thus evading what seems to me a more difficult challenge and a greater opportunity for innovation."
This is Malcom Cowley's (one of Malcom Cowley's) attacks on the avant-garde, and specifically Robbe-Grillet's idea of the "new novel" and Andy Warhol's a in Cowley's essay A Defense of Storytelling.
It seems to me that he has a point, though a decidedly conservative one - for after all, a writer must be able to write whatever a writer wants to write, right?
But it's true, one must admit, that one advantage writing has over, say, painting, sculpture, music even, is time. The writer has the ability to lead the reader through maze after maze, the seeing forest and the hearing field, across the street and up the stairs, to open the door, to enter the room, to walk over to the window, to open the window, to step out onto the ledge, to look down, to sigh, and then, perhaps, to go back in or to jump or to fly.
1/7/14
12/27/13
Writing Is Wrought
12/11/13
Walled In
11/18/13
The Singing Truth
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| Cuetzpaltzin after having his poems misunderstood by Cortes. |
He goes his way singing, offering flowers
And his words ring down
Like jade and quetzal plumes
Is this what pleases the Giver of Life
Is that the only truth on Earth?
- Ayocuan Cuetzpaltzin (Nahuatl poet, 15th century)
The tlamatinime people of precolonial Mexico suggested that immutable truth is by its nature beyond human experience. Their philosophers believed that, because we are mortal, we cannot know Truth. If we cannot grasp eternity, then we cannot grasp eternal truth.
The passage above is a kind of poetics solution to this riddle. We cannot know truth, but we can sing the things around us. And through singing gain access to truth.
The poet continues:
From whence come the flowers that enrapture man
The songs that intoxicate, the lovely songs?
Only from the innermost part of heaven.
Through art we access grace, or other, or truth. Perhaps this seems obvious, or cliche now. But it strikes me that this was a realization of an early 15th century poet from subtropical north america, one of millions doomed by the fast approach of material Europe.
11/7/13
Poet as Chicken
"The man who has fed the chicken every day throughout its life, one day wrings its neck instead, showing that more refined views as to the uniformity of nature would have been useful to the chicken."
-Bertrand Russel
10/10/13
Issue VI Now Available!
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| Arreguin's The Bull Got Into the Flower Garden |
Issue VI is now available via this website (see "Buy a Copy" button), with work by Jeff Encke, Annie Chou, Greg Bachar, Nadine Maestas, Fred Sasaki, Rachel Kessler, Greg Bem, Marissa F. Baum, and Simone Sachs. Art by Alfredo Arreguin.
Please buy a copy! All proceeds go to the next issue of struggling literary magazines based in Seattle that rhyme with 'crazed goy.' You're gonna love it!
9/27/13
Neglection Slip
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| Ms. Rich |
Rich responded:
"A poem often becomes a kind of commodity in the competitive literary world of curriculum vitae, though I deplore the fact. I would be very sorry if either this mischance, or your numerous recognitions, were to get between you and the life of poetry, which is an art, not a competition, an art demanding self-discipline and apprenticeship, often through very unencouraging circumstances, for stakes which have nothing to do with the market."
9/11/13
Meaning as Poverty
- Sontag (from "Against Interpretation," which is required reading!)
9/5/13
8/25/13
singing and dancing and talking about it too
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| Rodin's Poet and Critic. |
"There is no reason ever in the world for the critic and poet to be at odds, and for the following reason: the primary motion of the poet is to put things together and touch a source that feels like life, at times even more powerful than life. It is a synthesis of analogies and associations that promotes, in the best hands, and even when disjunctive, a sense of renewed vitality. That is what one feels. That is a fact whether noticed by poet or critic. The critic makes another kind of synthesis; his or her synthesis comes as a result of what can be added up after taking things apart. What is added up, as in dissertations and works of critical discourse, is thought to be subtler and finer than the work that gave rise to it. But that cannot be, because the two modes of thought, the creative and the analytical, are not comparable; they are apples and oranges."
"Thousands of papers may be written about Rodin and many of them may know more about Rodin than Rodin did but they will not resemble sculpture. Rodin made the sculpture. No one else did."
"We will dance and sing. Sometime later we will talk about singing and dancing, and in that effort, we will need all the help we can get from the critics or anyone else."
8/1/13
Poetry's Dead And Jazz Ain't Cool
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| Jazz may not be cool, but that pink tie is. |
7/25/13
Dead Letter Text
"The logos of a bad writer throws words together in no order at all, perhaps beginning at the point where it should end and wholly ignorant of organic sequence. You can enter this logos at any point and find it saying the same thing. Once it is written down it continues to say that same thing forever over and over within itself, over and over in time. As communication, such a text is a dead letter."
Anne Carson (in Eros the Bittersweet)
6/13/13
Baudelaire's Doggie Bag
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| Baudelaire with dog hidden in shirt. |
Come here, my dear, good, beautiful doggie, and smell this excellent perfume from the best perfumer of Paris.
And the dog, wagging his tail, which I believe is that poor creature's way of laughing and smiling, came up and put his nose to the uncorked bottle. Then, suddenly, backed away in terror, barking at me reproachfully.
"Ah miserable dog, if I'd offered you a bag of shit you would have sniffed at it with delight and perhaps devoured it. In this you're like the public, which should never be offered delicate perfumes that infuriate them, but only carefully selected garbage."
6/12/13
Lips or roots?
6/5/13
5/4/13
Love Lavished
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| The thick smear of a blue spot. |
- William Gass
4/24/13
The Flesh made Gass.
4/3/13
Mr. Ed.
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| Who knows why or should |
- Steinbeck
Steinbeck goes on to answer this question in his introduction to Cannery Row. But what good are answers? (If you're curious, find it in the Bantam edition [1947]). We all have to all of us be grateful for the question.
Of course the book itself, Cannery Row, is an attempt to answer the question. What isn't?
... Incidentally, Steinbeck waxes Steinian in the same edition when he dedicates the book (without punctuation):
For
Ed Ricketts
who knows why or should
3/25/13
Douglas Miller's Ars
Here's a link to PageBoy contributor Douglas Miller's Ars Poetica (warning: brief nudity [hands], viewer discretion is advised):
3/12/13
The Thoroughly Dead
2/18/13
Serious Humor
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| The, um, frosting on the cake. aka 'Looking Inwardly Serious.' |
"If it is with outer seriousness, it must be with inner humor. If it is with outer humor, it must be with inner seriousness. Neither one alone without the other under it will do."
-Robert Frost.
But then again, either one alone with the other over it will do as well. As will one or both with the other under it, or over it. And neither one not alone without the other under (or over) it. Any of these is fine ... seriously.
2/5/13
The Ungood and the Unbad
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| Nietzsche, moments after God shouted "Nietzsche is dead!" |
-Robert Corrigan in Comedy; Meaning and Form.
One might add equally 'good' or equally 'bad,' in that there is no longer one accepted perspective to judge these things by. This is, of course, both a good and a bad thing. In relation to poetry, this is why nothing is no damn good nomore and everything is often always bad. And if you think otherwise well then you're right too!
1/20/13
1/19/13
Surprise!
| Sartre seeing against himself. |
If you apply the same approach to writing, you get "I write against myself." If you are suspicious of that which comes easily, too easily, you might arrive at something outside yourself, larger than yourself. You might. You might not, but you might.
It's recognizable at readings when a poet/writer is comfortable writing in some certain way. The poems are difficult to distinguish from each other, difficult to distinguish from the poems he/she read at their last reading, or perhaps they've been reading the same poems at successive readings, for successive (gulp) years even. Not only is this a creative bog for the writer, but it's also a wriggling morass for an audience, who can't possibly be expected to be surprised by the same thing again and again and again ad nauseum.
Or, as Frost says: "No surprise for the writer, no surprise for the reader."
1/14/13
Interview Re Issue V
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| Magritte's little known painting, Thinking Moustache. |
The venerable documentarian Paul E. Nelson has graciously posted an interview with myself and Sierra Nelson re the magazine. You may find it here: Yellow Snow.
1/9/13
Stranger Review
Reading PageBoy might make your face do this! It might transport you to exotic climes (or wherever he is)! So loosen your tie, and put on a pair of (special-spy-issue-unscrambling) sun glasses and read child read!
If you're still unsure, you can find Mr. Constant's review here: Please Amy, Use Lube.
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1/3/13
Oh Beautiful Useless
12/15/12
Issue V Release Party Pics/Vid
Some photos from the Issue V release party:
And if pictures aren't enough, video has been posted here: Wow. Enjoy!
| the seeing fields and the hearing forest |
| the four hoarse men harassing |
| Paul Nelson playing 'I Spy Pim' |
| Bill Carty impersonating Bill Carty |
| George Ciardi casting an analog spell |
| Alex Bleecker reading five poems at once |
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| Jeremy Springsteed cropping his fingers off |
| Sierra Nelson has published more books than she has hands |
| The Editor drank so much wine his hands, even, were blurry |
12/9/12
I'm a Monkey!
| Self Portrait of Myself Writing This Blog |
"What can be said, can be said clearly. What cannot be said clearly, is not in the world and one must be silent about it."
- Wittgenstein.
I have this quote written in one of my notebooks. I just realized today that I've been misreading it (because my handwriting is so horrible) as saying "What cannot be said clearly, is not in the world and one cannot be silent about it." As in, one is compelled to art by those things outside of the world that we cannot say. The very fact that they cannot be said necessitates the attempt to say them. I've long thought that poetry was an attempt to say what is impossible to say. To speak the unspeakable. And anything sayable isn't worth saying at all.
Wittgenstein though is talking about God. He has said that he likes the idea of a silent religion, and I agree with him there. He was not referring to the arts, so I am not only misreading, but taking the quote out of context and applying it to a different subject altogether. This, I guess, is also what poets do. That ruthless and unethical race of baboons.
12/4/12
Hate Gass
11/15/12
PageBoy Reading 12/1 Seattle!
| Happy Holidays! |
Readers will include current contributors Sierra Nelson, William Carty, Jeremy Springsteed, Sarah Galvin, Alex Bleecker, and Paul Nelson. Photographer George Ciardi will be showing prints. The We Don't Know Yets will be playing music. Also: I don't know what else, it could be anything!
Magazines will be for sale! Wine will be for free!
Please join us in this pre-emptive pagan event so that together we might end this endless yuletide squabbling, and begin again the beginningless pagan offering. Okay?
11/7/12
Invisible Trolls
| Dylan Thomas with several invisible trolls searching his chins for an apple. |
- Dylan Thomas in a letter to J.M. Brinnin. This published in Dylan Thomas in America, which three out of three PageBoy Magazine editors agree is a very lovely and very trashy little book.
11/6/12
Vote YES on BS!
11/5/12
10/31/12
DT: Damn Tfool
10/14/12
10/8/12
Right (T)here
9/17/12
8/18/12
Ping Pong
| Mr. Wang (with broom) representing Ping, and Mr. Shan (sans broom) as Pong. |
8th century Chinese poet Han Shan had this to say about his predecessor, a certain Mr. Wang:
"Mr. Wang's degree says Flourishing Talent.
He loves to find fault with my poems.
He says I don't follow the regulations,
and don't use the right techniques.
He says I don't use the four tones correctly,
and just stick in words any which way.
I laugh at what he calls poetry: a blind man's
rhymes in lukewarm praise of the sun."
to which Mr. Wang replied:
"Mr. Shan's degree says Master of Subversion.
He loves to find fault with my poems.
He says I don't follow his regulations,
and don't use the right techniques.
He says I don't use the four tones correctly,
and choose my words too carefully.
I laugh at what he calls poetry: a blind man's
rhymes in lukewarm praise of the sun."
8/3/12
Title This Blogpost Please
7/26/12
Why Don't Hejinian Nunchucks Exist?
Your search - hejinian nunchucks - did not match any image results.
(use your imagination)
"To some extent, each sentence has to be the whole story."
-Hejinian.
That is, each sentence has to be a hole (read 'rabbit hole') within the, um, story. Not simply le mot juste, but lemon juiced in just the precise Hejinianian way. These such Hejinianianisms are the nonesuch and nunchucks of obsessively paratactic poetry nerds such as haunt the hallowed halls of PageBoy Magazine's corporate hindquarters. It was cold outside.
(use your imagination)
"To some extent, each sentence has to be the whole story."
-Hejinian.
That is, each sentence has to be a hole (read 'rabbit hole') within the, um, story. Not simply le mot juste, but lemon juiced in just the precise Hejinianian way. These such Hejinianianisms are the nonesuch and nunchucks of obsessively paratactic poetry nerds such as haunt the hallowed halls of PageBoy Magazine's corporate hindquarters. It was cold outside.
7/13/12
Get Out of the Way!
7/11/12
Irish Football Coach Korg Delusional!
"Reading poetry does not help us to do anything; it simply helps us to gain a greater awareness of our experiences than we can achieve ourselves."
"A poem does not offer a copy of, or a comment upon actuality, but a sensation of insight peculiar to itself. Its value does not depend upon its 'truth' to reality, but on its ability to provide, within itself, a clear and coherent experience."
-both quotes from Jacob Korg in An Introduction to Poetry, sometimes it's nice to be reintroduced.
6/17/12
Monkey Mouth
"In the beginning was the word..."
Gospel of John.
"In the beginning of heaven and earth there were no words, words came out of the womb of matter."
Lao Tzu.
I wish these two would end their endless squabbling over words. The word is that in the beginning was the beginning of the word, but even so there were no words that came out of the womb of matter. Can we all just agree, finally, that words came from monkeys. And note the trends in new poetic writing: the return to monkey mouth!
Gospel of John.
"In the beginning of heaven and earth there were no words, words came out of the womb of matter."
Lao Tzu.
I wish these two would end their endless squabbling over words. The word is that in the beginning was the beginning of the word, but even so there were no words that came out of the womb of matter. Can we all just agree, finally, that words came from monkeys. And note the trends in new poetic writing: the return to monkey mouth!
6/5/12
Reading Lolita in London
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| Olympia Press's evocative cover. (oh the understatement!) |
"The filthiest book I have ever read. Sheer unrestrained pornography."
- John Gordon (ed. of the London Sunday Express) in a review of Nabokov's Lolita.
Obviously Mr. Gordon needs to get better porn, and filthier books! Were the '50s that bleak?
This quote reminds me of Umberto Eco's comment on the Marquis de Sade (who Gordon obviously never read). It's something to the effect of "The most disturbing thing about Sade's work is that just when you start to get turned on he goes off on some philosophical rant that lasts upwards of 50 pages. How is one to enjoy onesself, there's way too much philosophy!"
5/24/12
Muppets, uh... Critics.
5/15/12
Ludwig Lovelace
"Even to express a false thought boldly and clearly is to have gained a great deal."
-Ludwig Wittgenstein.
"I never realized how many lies you have to tell to sell a book."
-Linda Lovelace.
It is estimated that Linda Lovelace has sold up to 10 times as many books as Wittgenstein. Interestingly, Lovelace's book Ordeal begins with the wonderfully philosophical line "My name is not Linda Lovelace." If Wittgenstein had enjoyed anything (he evidently didn't), I think he would have enjoyed Lovelace's double entendre. It's a kind of pornographic version of Rimbaud's je est une autre.
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