2.27.2007

This poem is indebted to Gregory Bateson’s ecologic and dynamic concepts;to René Thom’s catastrophe/chreod theory; and to C.S. Peirce’s concepts ofthreeness. The authors share Ollivier Dyens’s views of technologicalreality and Kenny Goldsmith’s and Dirk Vekemans’s senses of the need torelate to non-human algorithmic potential.

this is part of the intro to Stephanie Strickland and Cynthia Lawson Jaramillo with video by Paul Ryan

http://slippingglimpse.org

chreod comments coming soon
it'll most likely go in as girls girls girls; I dreamed a bunch of titles last night but didn't write them down -- they started along the lines of color commentary, custom color, style catalog, perennial color, blah blah

the problem with girls is that it is exactly what the poems are about, that the idea of girls is commercialized, sexualized, a product, and the style on the surface only obfuscates the meaning and existence therein

in another development, re-reading lola ridge's ol' lecture re: why are there no great female writers -- by which she means, I think, why do we only have a dozen or so european female novelists from 1600-1900 -- she mentioned assuredly minor Selma Lagerlof who was the first woman to win the nobel -- this sort of "looking for greatness defined how, perhaps by who receives prizes" always a tricky business -- in any case, ol' Ridge, obviously a Jane Austen hater, not liking George Eliot much, and surely not Charlotte Bronte, Mary Shelley -- because surely a "one hit wonder" isn't GREAT as Huysmans! oooh nooo -- and surprisingly then lists a litany of very minor male aesthete / decadent poets wondering why they have no female peer -- for which we can easily say -- morality -- or -- look at some of the novels, stories, and letters written by women, especially courtesans, et.al. from the same time period for a comp -- it becomes clear that she is looking inside the accepted world of literature

so common at the time period -- such an ordinary and hateful speech, of course written for money -- the idea of "no GREAT women artists, saints, heathens" being a whipping horse for -- dunno -- fundraising?

"There is no woman among the great penitents of literature.
When we come to the question of form--or spiritual unity--in the work of women, we find it generally weak. If a work of art has good form--if the various parts are correlated into a perfect whole--the mind, in retrospect, should be able to encompass it in a single gesture. . But this masculine sense of form, this completeness as of a whole, is usually missing in women's work."

Now here, I perk up, still working on the awp talk, and knowing that she is self justifying her switch to form (which she was not the site of her talents) and her unpublished long work

then she starts blathering on assuredly minor lagerlof

and making some strange lists

male
organization
form
civilization

female
inspiration / genius


In 1894 Lagerlöf met a fellow writer Sophie Elkan (1853-1921), who became her lifelong companion. Well, except for some guy. And Lagerlof didn't die until 1940. In any case, Elkan was author of a bio of a Swedish king.

2.26.2007

so, in short, I can't find more oppenheim, but I found LOTS of "Cahun" -- newly republished in french, but FREE!!! in french original -- but perhaps problemetized by claims of her collaboration with her partner -- persuasive, from what I've seen, esp. visually --

writing my talk for inventors in the temple: avant garde formalism

I belatedly realize I'm the NYS person on the panel, gotta hold up my end

__

an arguable quote from Rich:

Critical discourse about poetry has said little about the daily conditions of our material existence, past and present: how they imprint the life of the feelings, of involuntary human responses - how we glimpse a blur of smoke in the air, look at a pair of shoes in a shop window, or a group of men on a street-corner, how we hear rain on the roof or music on the radio upstairs, how we meet or avoid the eyes of a neighbour or a stranger. That pressure bends our angle of vision whether we recognise it or not.

2.25.2007

Lucy Schwob / Claude Cahun

Heroines -- looking for a text version of samples to babelfish for here

got it as images -- and more more more!!!
http://tinyurl.com/3yxesq


But, among other symptoms, the overproduction of objects which are increasingly more unusual (like the microscopic tweezers, useful only under the microscope) guarantees that, in every way, our reality cracks: the chain of forced, brutalizing work, the golden bit of passions broken and rebroken, before perhaps the fading photograph of perishable objects spread out under my eyes.

"Beware the domestic objects",Cahiers d'art 1936.

Le Croisic. – Le ciel est pâle, à peine nuancé ; les bancs de sable sont pâles, à peine dorés d’un soleil pâle. La mer s’est retirée du Traict, ne laissant derrière elle qu’un étroit canal vert pâle ; et c’est sur ce périlleux sentier que s’aventure une chaloupe de pêche Toute pâle, sa coque verte se confond avec ses voiles vertes tendues à demi comme deux fines ailes. Je la vois s’avancer et je prévois la chute inévitable. Cet étroit ruisseau vert ne la mènera pas au port, que je sache ! Il est à sec. Où veut-elle donc aller ? La bise enfle ses voiles minces ; elle approche si lentement qu’à vrai dire elle semble ne pas bouger. Le dernier rayon du soleil couchant m’éclaire. Je distingue une corde, seul trait net de ce pâle tableau : la chaloupe est à l’ancre au milieu du canal.

Arcadie. – L’enfant est pâle, sa peau à peine nuancée ; ses cheveux courts et légers sont pâles, à peine dorés d’un soleil pâle. Il est assis et tient entre ses doigts serrés un brin d’herbe vert pâle ; et c’est sur ce périlleux sentier qu s’aventure la sauterelle prise au vol dans un champ voisin. Toute pâle, son corps vert se confond avec ses ailes vertes qui frémissent comme des feuilles légères. Je la vois s’avancer et je prévois la chute inévitable. Cet étroit sentier vert ne mène pas à la liberté, que je sache ! L’enfant la retiendrait. Où veut-elle donc aller ? La brise agite ses ailes minces ; elle approche si lentement qu’à vrai dire elle semble ne pas bouger. Le dernier rayon du soleil couchant m’éclaire. Je distingue un fil de soie, seul trait net de ce pâle tableau : la sauterelle agile est attachée par la patte au milieu du brin d’herbe.

Qui roule n’amasse mousse, mais glaise où collent graviers, débris, si bien agglomérés au mouvement, si bien incorporés, qu’on perd de vue la forme et le point de départ. La pelote du bousier grossit, durcit, suffit à déclencher une avalanche. Qui songe à mettre à nu son âme doit s’attendre à voir le douteux amalgame lui fondre entièrement dans la main.
Cette lame chirurgicale dont l’analyse ou la religion nous arme contre nous-même rencontrera-t-elle un noyau d’ivoire – ou seulement déchets, déchets, ramassis de déchets jusqu’au centre méconnaissable, poussière entraînée par le vent ?
I just CAN'T think of a title; the ms. is better than ever, but I just can't work on it anymore -- it is too hard to think of audience for a contest, I think, having never won one -- i.e., it is MUCH easier to devise a project you know a publisher will like than to package some poems you like in such a way that a publisher will like them -- and of course I should be doing NEITHER

discarded titles

cosmetology
coloratura
exquisite slip
the august sleeve
accoutrements
girls, girls, girls
red light, blue light
female costumes historical and ... somethin' else
sewing girls
sewing scissors
sewing with scissors
Girl Guide

ornament and girls -- same etymology? sew and couture?

Ron's suggestion:

The Adventures of Po in Outer Space
somethin' catalog
http://meaningmaker.org/
struggling with re-titling book I'm revising to send out to a contest, I know, why, I never win these things

but the existing titles were so bad

the poems are, in general, about how experience clothes reality / truth, and names, language, style, as part of experience, part of this scrim or veil; what is of the essense, what is revealed by the slip-page of lyricism, in these poems

no closer to a title tho

the method of the poems is Negative - Via Negativa or Apophatic -- that attempts to describe by negation, to speakonly in terms of what may not be said.