After class, I was contemplating the bias and personal experience we bring into poetry interpretation. In a way, I think poetry lends itself to this, allowing it (to a point) to cross time and culture and the reader can still appreciate a poem and connect with it on the level of his or her own life. On the other hand, I agree that we can't interpret poetry any which way we want. Sometimes I struggle to interpret poetry at all, but that's neither here nor there.
Anyway. The class got into quite the tangle over #258, debating whether it is joyful or oppressive or what, so I'm tossing in my two cents from the safety of my blog. In my South Dakota winter experience, the slant of winter light is almost an oppressive bit of joy. Especially when we hit January, I'm fed up with winter and sunken deeply into the winter blues. The brief hours of winter light are a relief from the gloom, but almost an oppressive, sobering relief; winter light is nothing like the gorgeous, life-giving light of summer. Winter light teasing us weakly for a few hours and then goes, leaving us still in the dead of gloom and frozen tundra. Sometimes, winter light pretends like there could be a touch of warmth outside, tempting a venture outdoors. Then, BOOM! I get slapped in the face with frosty, biting air.
Just taking from my own experience, I read this with an eye to the fleeting promises winter light gives. It offers a bit of life and warmth, yet leaves despair. It tempts with hope, but rarely comes through. That's enough of that. I need to go outside and convince myself we aren't back in January now.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
"This is the common air that bathes the globe"
(it is 'section', correct?)
On a first read-through of Whitman, he seemed pretty full of himself. After nosing through him a little more and some class discussion, I changed my mind a little. I think, to a point, he's just being open and writing how he sees things. I also think Whitman is trying to write in a way that is representative of human experience, especially after taking a closer look at 17 (page 1023). To me, it seems as if Whitman assumes his poetry speaks for all people, but counts it as worthless if it does not accomplish this.
If they are not yours as much as they are mine they are nothing, or next to nothing.
-line 356
Furthermore, he sees the human experience he's writing about as being organic, arising naturally and:
This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is,
This is the common air that bathes the globe.
-line 359-360
Whitman is a bit ambitious in this, but I don't think he's an arrogant jerk necessarily. The more I read of his poetry, as provocative as some of it is, the more I enjoy him and his flowing, beautiful writing style.
On a first read-through of Whitman, he seemed pretty full of himself. After nosing through him a little more and some class discussion, I changed my mind a little. I think, to a point, he's just being open and writing how he sees things. I also think Whitman is trying to write in a way that is representative of human experience, especially after taking a closer look at 17 (page 1023). To me, it seems as if Whitman assumes his poetry speaks for all people, but counts it as worthless if it does not accomplish this.
If they are not yours as much as they are mine they are nothing, or next to nothing.
-line 356
Furthermore, he sees the human experience he's writing about as being organic, arising naturally and:
This is the grass that grows wherever the land is and the water is,
This is the common air that bathes the globe.
-line 359-360
Whitman is a bit ambitious in this, but I don't think he's an arrogant jerk necessarily. The more I read of his poetry, as provocative as some of it is, the more I enjoy him and his flowing, beautiful writing style.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Annabel Lee
I would just like to ask a few questions about this particular poem. Why are they living in a kingdom by the sea? What is a kingdom by the sea? They sound like mermaids. And Annabel sounds very delicate if the wind killed her. And furthermore, this sounds like Romeo and Juliet with kids thinking they're super deeply in love... until someone dies. Annabel is a little bit dependent. Why is her whole life based on loving and being loved by the narrator? No wonder the first cold breeze killed her. She had no life substance.
Ok, that was mean. Poe is kind of angsty and dramatic when it comes to love though. His rhyme is, once again, fantastic and keeps the poem moving. On a more positive note, I can see this poem being adapted into a Tim Burton movie along the lines of Corpse Bride with Annabel coming out of the sea dressed in seaweed.
Ok, that was mean. Poe is kind of angsty and dramatic when it comes to love though. His rhyme is, once again, fantastic and keeps the poem moving. On a more positive note, I can see this poem being adapted into a Tim Burton movie along the lines of Corpse Bride with Annabel coming out of the sea dressed in seaweed.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Initial thoughts on Whitman
Whitman's poetry is beautiful, but a little obscure. I feel like it strays into the transcendental, seeing nature as spiritual and seeing self as almost one with nature. It also tends toward the sensual and even the sexual at times. He was pushing boundaries and I can imagine it still causes some discomfort. He definitely sees life as a cycle, with death making provision for new life.
Random favorite stanzas:
Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat,
Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not even the best,
Only the lull I like, the hum of your vavled voice.
(lines 83-86)
Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere, waiting for you.
(lines1343-1345)
Random favorite stanzas:
Loafe with me on the grass, loose the stop from your throat,
Not words, not music or rhyme I want, not custom or lecture, not even the best,
Only the lull I like, the hum of your vavled voice.
(lines 83-86)
Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere, waiting for you.
(lines1343-1345)
Detective Poe
Throughout The Purloined Letter, I felt like I was reading a Sherlock Holmes episode. At first, I was outraged that Poe seemed to have ripped off Doyle. In class, I come to find out that Poe was somewhat of the father of the detective novel. Oops. Anyway, there were plenty of similar elements. There is an abnormally clever, snarky, pipe-smoking detective and the story is relayed from the perspective of a nerdy sidekick. The bumbling police officer seems to have come to the detective seeking help for other cases unsolved by the struggling police department. Furthermore, the case is one of the odd little Holmes-eque problems. Thanks Poe for inspiring a great genre.
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