Presentations

Wow. Amazing. Bizz’s movie was so funny, her dad is a scream. A tremendous amount of work went into that little production. And I couldn’t help smiling as I watched Lauren try to keep up with Dustin’s heady discourse. There was practically steam rolling out her ears as she attmepted to sign the words he was using. I’m impressed that he can relate so seemingly effortlessly, such deep concepts. It shows how comfortable he is with these esoteric ideas. Meg’s story, ah, so touching, and interesting–a really creative way to wrap up the course. Oranda, that was insightful, well done. I liked the Nebuchadnezzar connection. Looks like J.P. dodged a bullet. Look forward to hearing his finished paper first thing Wed.  Our professor is merciful. That’s all folks.

A Stone

In reading Muse Megan’s blog, she referred to Stevens’ obituary. I had come upon this image earlier in the year, and was saving it til now. This is his marker, a simple stone.

I like that it’s all he wanted–no mausoleum, no towering monument. Just a stone. A thinking stone…a rock.

Also liked the Stevens’ words she cited, which I too had underlined and made note of: “Death is the mother of beauty. Only the perishable can be beautiful, which is why we are unmoved by artificial flowers.” I’ve wondered about that. Artificial flowers are pretty amazing these days, made of silk, so real, mini-works of art really. And yet they are not the same as real, because death was not required.

Crazy

I’m researching for my paper and finding so much that provokes thought, so much I want to include, a zillion threads beckoning me to follow, that I’m going just a little bit crazy.

I’ve written pages and pages of notes, toyed with all kinds of rabbit trails.

As I was thinking about how to weave together my disparate musings, I had a thought literally pop into my head. “Wallace Stevens was a racist.” Now, you can imagine my surprise. I immediately argued with the voice in my head, “I don’t think so.”

But, having heard this voice clearly, I googled ‘Wallace Stevens and Racism’ and pulled up articles exploring that idea. Not only was he racist, some say, but sexist as well. Now, that would not be entirely uncommon for a man born in his lifetime. Old ways of thinking die hard. Nevertheless, it surprised me.  For someone of such obvious intelligence to fall so stupendously in what is a basic tenet of decency, valuing people, is, well, shocking. Then I visited a link on James blog, the Wallace Stevens Society, and saw the link “enemies of Wallace Stevens.” Curious, I navigated there and read a letter from a very disgruntled employee who claimed that Wallace Stevens was exceedingly stingy with praise, and held his co-workers in contempt, particularly if they did not agree with him. It was quite a long letter, and certainly exposed Stevens’ shortcomings. It seems he was a difficult man. Brilliant, no doubt. But hard to get along with and quite acerbic. Mr. Evan Dougherty says:  “He always felt free to make any remark that occurs to him, no matter how insulting or what the effect on a man’s pride.” Sounds like he had no filters. That’s another kind of crazy. All I can say is that Stevens may have been extremely smart, but perhaps had less emotional intelligence. I wonder if he was a bit autistic(savant-like in his ability with words/poetry) and just didn’t ‘get’ how to connect with people. Sometimes a brilliant minds exists in a strata all its own, quite unconnected to relationship.

As for racism, I don’t know the degree, if at all. It was an interesting rabbit trail. His one poem uses the ‘n’ word, but so did Mark Twain in making social commentary. My own father on two occasions made disparaging remarks about black people(using the N word). Years later I remembered and that was shocking to me as well. I think it was a product of being a white northern male, raised in a very white society, where old prejudices flowed quietly beneath the surface. My father was not unkind. It was a type of ignorance. I am probably on thin ice here, but I had to take Stevens off his pedestal to really get at the man. I don’t know why I was surprised at the humanness of Stevens. Often geniuses are eccentric and flawed. I loved Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ, but man, Gibson has some issues. Possibly anti-semitic, could be abusive, certainly alcoholic. But there’s no-one else like him in his portrayal of William Wallace in Braveheart.

Having broken the Stevens’ bubble, I must also add that from my readings it seems he did grow and change. He evolved as a human over the course of his life and writing career. Perhaps life softened him(as it does if we are learning), gave some compassion, taught him to value ‘the other,'(and how to filter his thoughts?) I see a difference in his final poems. I know life has changed me, made me more compassionate, less quick to judge.

So, I continue to plug away at this paper. Eventually I’ll write my way clear. And how does my ‘insight’ into Stevens’ feet of clay influence my topic? It has to do with disillusionment, disappointment, decreation.

Things are starting to make sense. It’ll all come together. Soon a form will appear.

Then I’ll just be the good kind of crazy.

Sexson Honored

Please follow the link to see what our professor was up to last Friday. He mentioned something about ‘regent business’ as his reason for canceling class Friday, but I had no idea he was being so feted.  A much deserved honor, I must say. And two of our classmates pictured to boot. He was named regents’ professor.

“The designation of Regents’ Professor is an honored position reserved for faculty scholars of exceptional ability who have achieved national and international distinction. The title Regents’ Professor serves as recognition of the highest academic merit and is awarded to faculty members who have made a unique contribution to the quality of the University through distinguished accomplishments in teaching, scholarship, research or creative work.”

://www.bozemandailychronicle.com/news/image_16acfcf4-2f74-11e2-abff-0019bb2963f4.html.

Poetry and James, Again

I love listening to people perform poetry. And the reason I don’t like the words in the background is because it’s hard not to look at the words, and then I miss the performance. But that’s just me. I’m such a visual learner, that if words are there, I feel compelled to look at them. If I’m looking at the words, I am not watching the poet’s eyes or keying into all the nuances of the oral tradition–the cadence, facial expression, etc.

Everyone is doing an admirable job. It’s not easy to get up in front of a crowd–easier for some than for others. Even if one knows the poem inside and out, memory glitches can still happen(like it did for me). Some are confident and expressive, some quieter and more subdued. It’s all good though. Good for what it does for the hearer, and what it does inside the speaker. The process of learning a poem transforms a person on some level. So that’s the interior work. But memorizing poetry is also useful. I was working on a short film several weeks ago, for a graduate class. When it came time to do my lines, I could not stop laughing. Maybe it’s because I was supposed to be a psychologist, and was talking in a really ridiculous voice. We did take after take. Finally we decided to do a voice overlay to put in later. So all I had to do was move my mouth. Still, I laughed. Then I decided that if I recited a poem, my mind would be engaged and I would stop laughing. It worked. I recited Kubla Khan. The camera-guy and my ‘patient’ on the couch, were amazed. It was nothing to me, but they were startled that I could recall such a long poem from memory. Poetry comes in handy. One poem proves another, and the whole.

Alexandra posted a link to an analysis of 13 Ways Of Looking at a Blackbird. It’s an interesting, easy to follow discourse that makes some good points. I hadn’t heard of the term “8 bit style” before–a sort of tongue-in-cheek modern literary criticism. Check it out.

James’ rendition of Primitive Like an Orb was entertaining, as his speaking always is, and I appreciated his story format involving the marriage of Wallace Stevens. It was also moving, and passionate as usual. I must admire the expression, the voice, the feeling that pours out when he engages. Iris Murdoch was wrong. Poetry can never be impersonal. It’s the one true thing…

Solaris

I have to say, science fiction is not my genre. Sorry, it’s just not. I read very little of it. A bit of a push then to ‘get into’ this book(other classmembers probably felt more at home here). But, knowing that our esteemed professor does not assign these things randomly, I read on. I have to say, I did like Lem’s descriptions of the ocean, of light, of the sky. His use of color, especially, made this an enjoyable read.

Purple oceans, red suns, pink structures rearing up out of the ocean…

And once in awhile I encountered a strange word, such as:

o·le·ag·i·nous/ˌōlēˈajənəs/
Adjective:
1.Rich in, covered with, or producing oil; oily or greasy.

2.Exaggeratedly and distastefully complimentary; obsequious.

This 2nd definition makes me laugh. I can’t wait to use this word in character description, “You know, that mortician seemed particularly oleaginous…”

Right away, I was suspicious of this ‘oily’ yet sentient ocean. Given our study of Lucretianism, I immediately made connections. Was the ocean God(as seen by Lucretious or Stevens), or a god-like being?  The ocean is this mysterious, untamable force that man attempts to mediate. Sounds familiar. From the beginning of this class I have felt Stevens’ wrestling with that unnamed force.

Throughout the book there’s the questioning of reality “There was always the possibility that I was behaving as exactly as in a dream”(51). Pg. 162, Snow tells Kelvin he is losing touch with reality. pg. 165, The waking dream had lured me out of sight of the measure meaning of reality.” Stevens is constantly questioning reality.

The following is my commentary on passages that jumped off the page in Solaris–parallels with Stevens and Lucretius:

pg. 62, “Unconsciously I had known all along that she would obey me.” That stopped me for a moment, but then it made sense. It’s a foreshadowing of the fact that she wasn’t real. Of course she’d do his bidding. She was part of his mind.

Pg. 74, the tragic story of man. This is comparable to Lucretius’ point of view when he formulated his De Natura.

Pg. 93 “I was no longer afraid of anything.” Kelvin makes the decision that nothing matters, just live for today. So Lucretian.

Pg. 108, “We are the object of an experiment.” People can feel like this in trying to make sense of life.

pg. 116 “Giese was an unemotional man, but then in the study of Solaris emotion is a hindrance to the explorer.” This reminds me of the ‘stripping down’ that Stevens suggests.

Pg. 121 “The mimoid can produce primitive simplifications, but is just as likely to indulge in baroque deviations, paroxysms of extravagant brilliance.”...(like Stevens himself).

“…the entire process began and ended with the reproduction of forms.” Stevens is quite taken with form, with things.

Pg. 123 The living ocean is endowed with intelligence…” An intelligence beyond the mind???

Pg. 126 “The fate of a single man can be rich with significance, that of a few hundred less so, but the history of thousands and millions of men does not mean anything at all, in any adequate sense of the word.”  The sense if ‘this is all there is.

“We pass through vast halls, each with a capacity of ten Kronecker units, and creep like so many crawling ants clinging to the folds of breathing vaults and craning to watch the flight of soaring girders, opalescent in the glare of searchlights, and elastic domes which criss-cross and balance each other unerringly, the perfection of a moment, since everything here passes and fades.” Again, the idea of the now moment, it’s all we have according to Stevens.

Pg. 127, “…where creation is unceasing, the created becomes the creator…” This is what Stevens hints at in his poetry–that the poetry becomes the life force.

Pg. 129 The free-ranging forms are often reminiscent of many-winged birds, darting away from the moving trunks of the agilus, but the preconceptions of Earth offer no assistance in unravelling the mysteries of Solaris.” Here we have a reference to birds, and Lucretius’ idea that all preconceived notions  of earth were no help to man, thus his shedding of the gods. Pg. 189 again more Birds.

pg. 131 “...I was in the ironic position of having to count on the superiority of the ocean.” I may be the only one who thinks this, but from the very start of this class I sense a longing in Stevens, for God. I think this is supported in his later poems, and I will write about that in my paper. When Kelvin says this line, it reminds me of the vulnerability man feels at times when choosing to trust in God, or a god.

pg. 140 “We are the cause of our own sufferings.” This was the conclusion of Lucretius.

Rheya’s realization: Pg. 149 “We emerge from your memory or your imagination.” Stevens obsession with imagination.

Pg. 152 Contact with the ocean: this theme echoes our human longing for love, for unconditional acceptance, for God.

pg. 192 Agonia Perpetua–straw hats. Sartorius’ son is his visitor, wears a straw hat. He is tortured by this most important relationship,

pg. 205 “…perform the thousand little gestures which constitute life on earth…” The mundane, the everyday that Stevens enumerates in his poetry.

pg. 206 Kelvin asks: “Do you belive in God?”  He wonders about a God confined by matter, an imperfect God, who cannot free himself from matter. Not sure how this relates to Stevens. First he denies God, but in the end I think he comes to see God as beyond matter.

pg. 208, A new hypothesis about  Solaris, like Lucretius’ new hypothesis about life, this is all there is.

“A God who simply is.”  This evokes the  great I am.

Pg. 212 Kelvin is changed by ‘contact.’ When the ocean touches him, he is changed. We are all changed by ‘contact’ with each other, with a higher power.

Pg. 214 “I hoped for nothing, yet I lived in expectation.” 

pg. 159 “Who do you want to save? Yourself? Her?” She is a mirror that reflects a part of his mind.

Pg. 164 “Man has not explored his own dark labyrinth of passages.” One of Stevens poems refers to a labyrinth as the inner part of man.

pg. 166 “Let me tell you one last time, we are in a situation which is beyond morality.” When snow says this, it reminds me of Stevens early logic and leanings–his drive toward epicureanism because this life is all we have.

Pg. 169 “…these two men, my father and Giese, nothing but ashes now, had once faced up to the totality of their existence, and this conviction afforded a profound calm which annihilated the formless assembly clustered around the grey arena in the expectation of my defeat.” This is what Lucretius did, faced the totality of his existence.

The ocean’s degeneration: Deconstruction?

Pg. 180 Contact! Lem compares it to communion of saints of the 2nd coming of the Messiah. “Solaris  is the revival of myth and the hope of redemption.”

Pg. 181 Contact is the heaven of eternity, sanctified. This sounds like Stevens talking about poetry. “How could they have accepted a thesis that struck at the foundations of their achievements?”  Lucretius also struck at the foundations of society when he did away with the gods.

Pg. 184  “In the sky blinding flames and showers of green sparks clash with the dull purple glow.” Like Stevens’ Auroras.

Pg. 187, Kelvin’s dream: “I feel this contact like a hand, and the hand recreates me.”  Stevens felt recreated by poetry.

Pg. 188 He describes the sorrow and grief in his dreams as rocklike, a mountain.

Overall impression: Poetry, like Solaris, has the ability to probe our minds, confront us, show us who we are, create us.

Solaris is the Intelligence Beyond the Mind

A Little Madness… A Little Dance

I watched the two dance scenes from the movie clips on Anne’s blog. The line I liked was when Zorba told his boss, “You’ve got everything, but one thing–a little madness.”

In the clip from Eight and a Half, the very buxom woman with the birdnesty hair, showed great joy in dancing,while the young boys clapped in glee. I’ve posted a link to a video–click below to enjoy ‘a little dancing madness.’ It’ll make you smile, and, well, want to dance. Turn up the volume.

Happy People Dancing