Post 25

Another thing that deters me from really appreciating fiction is a complete lack of attention span. For this reason, I am a huge fan of short fiction right now; I would much rather the work I'm reading be a guillotine than a thumbscrew (or, be it uplifting, a hug than a Swiss massage).

Today, I was subbing at a High School and betook myself with perusing the various literature collections that comprised all my company during the solitude of the two hours that a prep period immediately preceding lunch bestows upon me. I was elated to find many works of Poe--or, rather, the same two or three found in all five or six books, but two or three is better than none. I love Edgar Allan Poe; I think he's great! Ever since I broke down the meter of "The Raven" back in 9th grade, I have had a deep appreciation for the man. Today, I found the following quotation, something Poe said that makes me feel less alone in the world:

"A skillful literary artist has constructed a tale. If wise, he has not fashioned his thoughts to accommodate his incidents; but having conceived, with deliberate care, a certain unique or single effect to be wrought out, he then invents such incidents—he then combines such events as may best aid him in establishing this preconceived effect. If his very initial sentence tend not to be outbringing of this effect, then he has failed in his first step. In the whole composition there should be no word written, of which the tendency, direct or indirect, is not to the one pre-established design. And by such means, with such care and skill, a picture is at length painted which leaves the mind of him who contemplates it with a kindred art, a sense of the fullest satisfaction."

Yes! Yes yes yes yes YES YES YES!!! And I think this is more often attained in shorter works.

Unfortunately, because I got so enthralled with Mr. Poe's poetry today, rather than the promised book reviews, I want to say a little about poetry, but keep that thought in mind, for it shall surely come up when I get around to reviewing various books.

Edgar Allan Poe is (and has been since 9th grade) my favorite poet--who can deny that his name is the very rootword of his craft? The musical canter and amazing consistency in structure and rhyme in "The Raven" is as flabbergasting to me today as it was 7 or 8 years ago when I first discovered it. If you are unacquainted with its genius, I recommend that you read it.

Try as I might, I have a very difficult time appreciating unstructured poetry. I don't spurn it, per se; it just isn't my thing. Because of that, I may well be unsuited to be a poetry critic--and, if that is not a good reason to deem me unworthy, there are bound to be scores of others--so I shall resist going in depth into structure and such like because, frankly, I have no credentials. Nevertheless, I just want to point out this one couplet:

'Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -

Do you see it? It's easier to pick up in context because the rhyming trio in the third and fourth lines of each stanza becomes expected; this one is my personal favorite: "that is" "lattice" and "thereat is"--BRILLIANT! BRILLIANT, I SAY!

Anyway....

I'm not sure that you fully appreciate the moving rhythm of this poem, though, so I will do something that I am even less qualified to attempt than critiquing poetry: recite it. I just hope that I don't in any way mar your opinion of this fine piece. If you have any worries that I might shake your naturally high esteem of this poem, please do not play this clip; I could never absolve such a grievous offense. Despite the fact that I spent most of my two-hour break reading and rereading the poem aloud, I still cannot quite recite it at the tempo I would like to without my tongue tripping here and there. Nevertheless, until I memorize it, this is probably about as well as I can manage (Note that I kind of imagine myself doing this onstage, dancing, and when it comes time, I shout, "Quoth the raven" and then point the mic at the audience so they can shout "NEVERMORE!"):

["THE RAVEN"]

But today I discovered another poem by Poe, one that I actually like better--my new favorite Poem: "The Bells"; if "The Raven" is rhythmic, "The Bells" is downright catchy. Though I could not remember any of the words except "bells, bells, bells!" yet I shouted those words rhythmically, maniacally the whole drive home (roughly twenty minutes). Looking at "The Bells," I was afraid that it was exactly the sort of poem that I would not like: inconsistent, unstructured, unrhyming. That is, to a certain extent, true, I suppose, in the same way that the first appearance of polyphony in masses may have made several Catholics think, "Hey, that doesn't sound like normal music!" "The Bells" transcend all my comprehension of what meter and rhyme are or mean; I cannot express to you quite what I mean. You can read it here, but be sure you read it out loud lest the effect be lost.

If my reading of "The Raven"--a poem I have adored for a long time--is unrefined, then my interpretation of "The Bells" is hardly worth sharing, nevertheless I want you to understand what this poem does to me, so here is my attempt:

["THE BELLS"]

I LOVE IT!