Bob the Ape has made a poem out of one of my posts! After six years of scribbling for St. Blog's, I've finally arrived. Thanks a million, Bob!
Dylan has joie de vivre.
"If you're close enough to read this, you must be a New Critic." Poetry bumperstickers! For AWP! Most of them are obnoxious (really obnoxious) in-jokes, but I can't help but laugh at some of them. Oh, and I'D RATHER BE SCANNING QUANTITATIVE METERS, kthanxbye.
I want this book for Christmas. I'm such a sucker for chiming Anglo-Welsh chamber music.
An article on the wild, untameable holiness of prosody. I don't agree that meter is never imitative (I've certainly speeded up verses to express quick motion), but I think Rothman makes a good point: "...prosody has nothing to do with the referential functions of language. Rather, verse draws its power from an utterly different faculty, the number sense, which orders experience not by construing it into propositions but instead by categorizing and counting, an activity that does not require linguistic syntax." In other words, more poetry critics ought to know music theory.
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1 comments:
I shall be forever in your debt for the phrase "wild, untamable holiness"! (or was it Mr Rothman's coinage?)
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