ME ME ME
Appropriating other people's discussions! To have them with myself. On my "secret" blog. Hmm. This bears a different sort of investigation.
At thicket-blog, a poem (should?) have "an intellectual level, an emotional level, and a visceral level." Head, heart, and [???]. The visceral level is what interests me right now: how is the visceral distinct from the emotional? Is it the pre-emotional reaction, the feeling before you identify what you are feeling? Personally, I often don't ever pin down what I am feeling -- why the poem works viscerally -- I just -- accept? -- know that it is working. Or work with it. I don't know if that is true... if it is, I suspect it is more of my own reluctance to analyze the emotional effect of a poem because I'm afraid I'll insert too much (?) of myself into the poem, and somehow alter its intent. Even though I understand that "intent" is a silly thing to talk about in some ways, and it's even sillier to pretend that I could read a poem without inserting my own emotion into it. Not just silly, but wrong. The act of reading is the reader's act. My reading is an un-filter-able-out part of the poem. Whatever passes for authorship or intent is also un-filter-able-out, but also not fully readerly-knowable.
This is not where I meant to go with this, I meant to think about how the visceral poem-reaction might relate to the functioning of language and the act of referring. If we can to some degree see that the emotional reaction is the feeling provoked in us by the poem, and the intellectual reaction what happens when we think about how the poem works (structurally and to provoke the emotional reaction), the visceral reaction must be -- what? -- some initial working-over of us by the poem that we can't attribute immediately to what we think or feel. Something about the workings of the language, the banging together of words that resonates with us in a way we can't yet (ever?) explicate. Yes. More later, chucked in with direct reference, how maybe if word and meaning (need a word better than meaning! meaning is not what I mean!) can stick right to each other, that has to do with how a poem can have a visceral effect on us that we don't define necessarily as emotional or intellectual.
More about ME ME ME and ganking other people's ongoing conversations:
At both joshcorey and ronsilliman (no real point to hyperlinking in something that only I am reading)... talk about "complexity around one's own identity"... the sensitivity to and acceptance of what has gone into one's cultural/gender/political identity, and dealing with the repercussions of identity in writing and presumably elsewhere. Not pretending that being a woman, or of whatever economic background, whatever cultural experience, whatever-sexual, &c. can somehow be extricated from poet-identity and not find its way into the poetry. Which, to be honest, is clearly something that I secretly or not-so wish I could do: write free of some parts of myself, immerse myself in word-guts and write only from that place. I know, of course, that that is not only impossible, but not constructive for writing, either. That doesn't help me any. It stems in part from my reluctance to associate myself with larger groups that share my identity -- I am afraid and hesitant to be a poet with a hyphenated something at the front. I don't want to be writing for a group, or as a representative, but I acknowledge that there is no other option. My identity is, whether I work it consciously into a text or not. This again with the body: may as well step into it and use it. Again, this is one of my own hang-ups about being a member of a community: I'm not good at it. I don't feel comfortable doing it. I know not only that engaging with the poetry-writing-whatever-bloggy (or not) community is worthwhile and productive, but also that the use of language at all is a pretty collective and community-dependent activity. It's not helpful to convince myself that I can write in isolation. Of course I can write in isolation, physically, but intellectual isolation is, well, dumb. Engage! You are part of a community. Your identity is part of you and your writing. You cannot write cut off. Only connect! (ha, shut up!)
At thicket-blog, a poem (should?) have "an intellectual level, an emotional level, and a visceral level." Head, heart, and [???]. The visceral level is what interests me right now: how is the visceral distinct from the emotional? Is it the pre-emotional reaction, the feeling before you identify what you are feeling? Personally, I often don't ever pin down what I am feeling -- why the poem works viscerally -- I just -- accept? -- know that it is working. Or work with it. I don't know if that is true... if it is, I suspect it is more of my own reluctance to analyze the emotional effect of a poem because I'm afraid I'll insert too much (?) of myself into the poem, and somehow alter its intent. Even though I understand that "intent" is a silly thing to talk about in some ways, and it's even sillier to pretend that I could read a poem without inserting my own emotion into it. Not just silly, but wrong. The act of reading is the reader's act. My reading is an un-filter-able-out part of the poem. Whatever passes for authorship or intent is also un-filter-able-out, but also not fully readerly-knowable.
This is not where I meant to go with this, I meant to think about how the visceral poem-reaction might relate to the functioning of language and the act of referring. If we can to some degree see that the emotional reaction is the feeling provoked in us by the poem, and the intellectual reaction what happens when we think about how the poem works (structurally and to provoke the emotional reaction), the visceral reaction must be -- what? -- some initial working-over of us by the poem that we can't attribute immediately to what we think or feel. Something about the workings of the language, the banging together of words that resonates with us in a way we can't yet (ever?) explicate. Yes. More later, chucked in with direct reference, how maybe if word and meaning (need a word better than meaning! meaning is not what I mean!) can stick right to each other, that has to do with how a poem can have a visceral effect on us that we don't define necessarily as emotional or intellectual.
More about ME ME ME and ganking other people's ongoing conversations:
At both joshcorey and ronsilliman (no real point to hyperlinking in something that only I am reading)... talk about "complexity around one's own identity"... the sensitivity to and acceptance of what has gone into one's cultural/gender/political identity, and dealing with the repercussions of identity in writing and presumably elsewhere. Not pretending that being a woman, or of whatever economic background, whatever cultural experience, whatever-sexual, &c. can somehow be extricated from poet-identity and not find its way into the poetry. Which, to be honest, is clearly something that I secretly or not-so wish I could do: write free of some parts of myself, immerse myself in word-guts and write only from that place. I know, of course, that that is not only impossible, but not constructive for writing, either. That doesn't help me any. It stems in part from my reluctance to associate myself with larger groups that share my identity -- I am afraid and hesitant to be a poet with a hyphenated something at the front. I don't want to be writing for a group, or as a representative, but I acknowledge that there is no other option. My identity is, whether I work it consciously into a text or not. This again with the body: may as well step into it and use it. Again, this is one of my own hang-ups about being a member of a community: I'm not good at it. I don't feel comfortable doing it. I know not only that engaging with the poetry-writing-whatever-bloggy (or not) community is worthwhile and productive, but also that the use of language at all is a pretty collective and community-dependent activity. It's not helpful to convince myself that I can write in isolation. Of course I can write in isolation, physically, but intellectual isolation is, well, dumb. Engage! You are part of a community. Your identity is part of you and your writing. You cannot write cut off. Only connect! (ha, shut up!)
posted by stower at 11:30 AM
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