Possibilities
April 28, 2005
I don’t know how to “problematize my reception” or “foreground the struggle of artistic creation.” I’m not sure I want to. I value clarity. I value having something to say and saying it. I can’t bring myself to invoke– or invest in creating– a process filtering what I have to say in order to make it more difficult or obscure for readers. No matter how I think about it, the whole idea seems ludicrous. Yet it must not be, else Josh and other authors I admire wouldn’t be so attached to the idea.
Which leaves me with a few possible conclusions about myself:
- I’m just not complex enough. I don’t have the depth or talent to think natively in a way that is seen as obscure (I was going to say “in a way which obscures” but that’s perverse and probably unfair) rather than a way which attempt to penetrate and illuminate (whether I succeed or not). Meaning, simply, that I am too simple.
- Next– and these are not necessarily exclusive ideas– my talent, such as it is, is suited for a different time. Perhaps my Golden Age was 20, 30, or 40 years ago, unfortunately peaking before I was born. I’m destined to oblivion, an evolutionary dead-end headed for the scrap heap before I’ve begun thanks to complex circumstances of school, friends, reading, and teachers.
- Finally, and by virtue of Occam, the most likely– I am just without talent. That’s me, nonchalantly swimming in waters whose depths I cannot fathom, the frantic flailing of my tiny arms and legs visible from below only as faint flicker… if at all.
Tags:
Poetry and Poetics, Psyche
All me-stream all the time.
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April 28th, 2005 at 9:48 am
Lately I’ve been thinking that the dichotomy in writing isnt postmodern versus traditional or whatever tags one gives those, but maybe it’s ‘natural’ versus ‘artificial’. If one lives in a man-made world and is concerned with man-made constructions then one’s writing will mostly be man-made, or artificial. And difficulty or say complexity is the measure of such writing. On the other hand, a writing concerned with the natural world (as the senses sense it and not how science classifies it) will ultimately lead to something simple and clear. The former has its place I believe in understanding the symptoms inherent in that artificial world. But the latter is more prescriptive. And ultimately curative. Life-affirming. And as my old friend Mr. Dylan said, he not busy being born is busy dying.
April 28th, 2005 at 5:46 pm
On your comment, Greg –
As one who spends a great deal of time mucking about in the “natural world”, I have a hard time perceiving “nature” as either “clear” or “simple” — “clear and simple” seems like a (charming) sentimentality. (I don’t also really believe there is something other than the “natural world†but will go along with it here for sake of discussion.)
I’m feeling a little defensive of “nature” here because I do believe the microbes jigging in the compost heap are no less obscure than “experimental†poetry: rot is a supreme “artifice”: all heaping & complexity. Humans and their endeavors seem far simpler: culture a straightforward bore next to the doings of worms.
I do not think it is legit to equate complexity with artifice — or tradition with good “natural” “wholesome†straightforwardness (whose tradition is straightforward? shakespeare’s? keats? — seething brains, “bush supposed a bearâ€, the fine frenzied eye and all? Surely not that one –).
I do think – if I might stretch this – that as in compost as in poetry, only some of us may find thoughts of the social lives of microbes alluring & want to spend a great deal time thinking about it and working with it with a strange intensity. Most don’t, but we would hope everyone in the end could appreciate, at least in a broad way, the compost’s effect.
And Chris –
Because I think the question is the “nature” of language, not the nature of nature, and for some of us, language which is not always semantically “right†(which may be accused by some of being “obscure” or “obscuring” or “obscurant”) fits better — not as the language of “culture” but as perhaps a native language, rescued from culture’s onslaught of an artificial sense.
Maybe this is only after too much time thinking at the compost heap, watching the wigglers wiggle, but I’ve also noticed that pre- and semi-literate children, composing poems aloud, are awfully “experimental” — driven by sound over sense, sometimes, throwing everything (pop culture, strong emotion, meta-text), in the mix, sometimes driven beyond the poem straight into song, or dance, or painting: no sense of genre there. The “clarity” has to be drilled into them before it becomes “natural”: the nature’s natural an accumulative complexity and relentless lyricism. Tho granted, the kids I hang out with are the post-post-post-avant generation.
Perhaps you should only then see yourself as mature. Or perhaps acknowledge that simplicity is just a very cunning artifice, given the obscurant tendency of the “natural worldâ€. Reading your other posts, I understand the crankiness about the whole “SOQ†vs. “Experimental†softball game going on, but find that there are real aesthetic issues that transcend those glib categories. “SoQ†and “avant-garde†irk me as much “natural†and “unnatural†irk me, but what to do? There is a difference, poem by poem, in what goes on in poetry.
I’m enjoying this discussion.
Anne
April 28th, 2005 at 9:52 pm
I liked the number two “golden age” theory. To quote Dylan again, many decades later: “People are crazy and times are strange. I’m locked in tight, I’m out of range. I used to care, but things have changed.”
April 29th, 2005 at 5:18 am
Chris, I wasnt saying nature was simple and clear. And my dichotomy was man-made versus the “natural.” I understand that it’s possible to say everyhing is natural. Also I was not equating man-made with complexity per se. Our perceptions can be so though.
April 29th, 2005 at 5:21 pm
Well said, Anne.
April 29th, 2005 at 11:40 pm
I ain’t no academic, but kinda identify with Chris somewhat.
Re. being “not complex enough” - My anxiety is usually about my ability to detect and comprehend complexity. However, complexities are often interconnected simplicities, so I’d need to identify the simple stuff as well. As for representing or describing the complex in words, if I’m able to do so effectively to a given audience then it matters not how complex my language is or isn’t.
I am annoyed when I see “academese” in stuff that I read, when it’s obvious that the same could’ve been expressed more elegantly. However, such language may very well be an efficient way of communicating among people within a domain of academia. Still, I don’t see the value in deliberate “obfuscation” by making something sound more complex than it is.
As for talent, the kind that I’d want would be the one that allows me to completely and evocatively put forth in words that which I want to communicate, whether it be complex or simple. I don’t know nothing about the examples you mention, but such language usually makes me gag.
May 14th, 2005 at 12:15 am
My early attempts at poetry were simple observations of nature. I enjoyed them. Others enjoyed them.
My later attempts at poetry were attempts at eccentricity combined with intelligence by dropping in all my 10th and 11th grade vocabulary words.
The same goes for visual art. My early artwork was simply for me. It was very satisfying and entertaining to others. When I tried to impress others or became overly conscious of others, I produced crap.
Chris mentioned not being complex, obscure, or deep enough in an authentic way. I think he is right on, that this cannot and shouldn’t be a goal.
I think the best we can hope for is to approach truth as effectively as possible and with the most clarity.
While a scenario or experience might be complex; relating the truth of it with clarity and authenticity to others is inherently original and possibly obscure and exceedingly valuable.
-Neil
p.s. Hey Chris!