Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Week 2

"And some certain significance lurks in all things, else all things are little worth, and the round world itself but an empty cipher, except to sell by the cartload, as they do the hills about Boston, to fill up some morass in the Milky Way."
                                                                                  –Herman Melville, Moby Dick

We are led to Believe a Lie 

When we see not Thro the Eye 

Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night 

When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light 

God Appears & God is Light 

To those poor Souls who dwell in Night 

But does a Human Form Display 

To those who Dwell in Realms of day    

                                       –William Blake, "Auguries of Innocence"

She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.
— To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury
Signifying nothing.
Macbeth, by William Shakespeare (Act 5, Scene 5, lines 17-28)

How Poetry Comes to Me       by Gary Snyder (b. 1930)

It comes blundering over the 
Boulders at night, it stays
Frightened outside the 
Range of my campfire
I go to meet it at the 
Edge of the light.

Song of Speaks-Fluently                             Anonymous, Native American (Osage)
To have to carry your own corn far — 

who likes it?

To follow the black bear through the thicket — 

who likes it?

To hunt without profit, to return without anything — 
who likes it?

You have to carry your own corn far.

You have to follow the black bear.

You have to hunt without profit.

If not, what will you tell the little ones? What
 
will you speak of?

For it is bad not to use the talk which God has sent us.

I am Speaks-Fluently. Of all the groups of symbols,

I am a symbol by myself.




 

Magnificent Peak                 by Muso Soseki (1275-1351)

By its own nature
     it towers above
        the tangle of rivers
Don't say
   it's a lot of dirt
      piled high
Without end the mist of dawn
    the evening cloud
      draw their shadows across it
From the four directions
    you can look up and see it
       green and steep and wild.


 Poetry and literature generally are rooted in human experience, private and public, ordinary and extraordinary.  Nature and Time are two large and old themes.   Our existence on earth, the natural elements that surround us, historical circumstance, the changes as we grow and age, the seasons of our life, as it were, inform the works of the human collective.   Art is a human record of awareness, belief, desire, knowledge, custom, and so on and calls upon us to consider, reflect, ask what is significant here. Is it intelligible?  Can meaning be discerned?  Why take a photo of a mountain? Why write a poem about a mountain? 
Look at the photo and the poem above.  How is each composed?  Does the poem, an old one, show something like the photo image?  What in each is emphasized? 



Look at the images in the photos below.  What impressions do they make?  What ideas do you associate with these images?










     

Angkor Wat, Cambodia    Photos by C. Houge


The photo above captures, for me, something of the emerald mystery of Nature and sacred space.  The temple of Angkor Wat (12 c.) is a part of the world's oldest and largest Hindu religious site and incorporates an architectural element called the Temple Mountain which represents Mount Meru, the home of the Gods.  The natural mountains of the world have inspired monumental architecture around the world.  But the snaking tree here in the center of the photo appears to threaten the  edifice, made fragile also by age.


In week one's set of stories and poems, the short fable by Leonardo Da Vinci called "The Nut and the Campanile" also, it seems to me,  articulates the dynamic of creation, growth, age, and eventual destruction:  a nut escapes being eaten by a crow and finds shelter in a crevice of a wall of the campanile.   The wall, an admirer of beauty and nobility, is moved by the nut's story of having lost its place beneath the "old Father" and its plea of "do you, at least, not abandon me." So the wall extends its compassion, happy to shelter one that acknowledges "the grace of God,"  Now the nut,  rooted in darkness, reaches for the light.  It grows to great height and in time displaces "the ancient stones."  The wall comes down. 

    Thus, perhaps, does each generation tread upon another, and civilization itself (symbolically the wall of the campanile) appear to be in Nature's grip.  We may see the theme of continual change here, Time that continually gives and yet takes or removes, creation in the process of transformation, a new manifestation.  As with us, each moment gives way to the next while the whole of life is nonetheless centered in the present moment.  .

    The campanile or belltower in the European tradition was most often a part of a church and was rung several times a day to call the faithful to prayer, to remind them of the incarnation of God.   In civic life, a belltower might warn, among other things, of natural disasters or danger.  Thus we may see in Da Vinci's story, an allegory of the fragility of human constructs in the face of nature's powers and, to my mind, the poignancy of the conflict between humans and nature, a source that giveth and taketh all, and that is loved and feared.

---------------
     INature, Ralph Waldo Emerson writes: 
"The stars awaken a certain reverence, because though always present, they are inaccessible; but all natural objects make a kindred impression, when the mind is open to their influence. Nature never wears a mean appearance. Neither does the wisest man extort her secret, and lose his curiosity by finding out all her perfection. Nature never became a toy to a wise spirit. The flowers, the animals, the mountains, reflected the wisdom of his best hour, as much as they had delighted the simplicity of his childhood."

And further, " nature, in the common sense, refers to essences unchanged by man; space, the air, the river, the leaf.  Art is applied to the mixture of his will with the same things, as in a house, a canal, a statue, a picture.  But his operations taken together are so insignificant [. . . ] that in an impression so grand as that of the world on the human mind, they do not vary the result "("Introduction").  
The works or operations of humans in their totality cannot compare with those of nature, he claims, as all our arts and crafts are meagered by nature's grand show.   
     Later he speaks of an "occult relation" between man and nature, a sense of delight and wonder, a harmony, but warns that "nature is not always tricked in holiday attire" and what appears lovely today may tomorrow be "overspread with melancholy." He says, "Nature always wears the colors of the spirit."  And "Nature is the symbol of spirit."  
     He makes it clear that the inward, subjective human experience of nature shapes our views of nature;  we tend to humanize nature; and our experience and imagination clothe nature in various dress–boon companion, indifferent Other, enemy.  But, he urges higher, ideal conceptions:   "Nature stretches out her arms to embrace man, only let his thoughts be of equal greatness."  And, too, "Beauty is the mark God sets upon virtue," and "in art does Nature work through the will of a man filled with the beauty of her first works."  

Nature is the original by which all is measured, and he says, we must learn from nature first-hand, not take our truths second-hand, but have confidence in our own original powers:   "Why should not we also enjoy an original relation to the universe? Why should not we have a poetry and philosophy of insight and not of tradition, and a religion by revelation to us and not the history of theirs?”

    
     By contrast, we have culture, civilization, what we have made of the natural world, often at odds with and a defense against nature's givens.  What does the poet below suggest we understand about the intermingling presences of the natural and artificial?


The Geraniums                                           by Genevieve Taggard (1894-1948)
Even if the geraniums are artificial

Just the same,

In the rear of the Italian café

Under the nimbus of electric light

They are red; no less red

For how they were made. Above

The mirror and the napkins

In the little white pots . . .
. . . In the semi-clean cafe

Where they have good 
Lasagna . . . The red is a wonderful joy

Really, and so are the people

Who like and ignore it. In this place

They also have good bread.
------------



                                                                 
                                                                    Guido Cagnacci  Allegory of Human Life


The poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge  said that "poetry reveals itself in the balance or reconciliation of opposite or discordant qualities." Reading a poem, we note the ways words and related images and feelings are juxtaposed and the dynamic created. We  last week looked at the doubleness or duality of various familiar concepts, including  nature/art; heaven/hell/; order/disorder; temporal/eternal; mortal/immortal; mutable/immutable; one/many; yin/yang; black/white; good/evil.  If what Coleridge said applies, we might look for the patterns, the contrasting qualities and notes and the play to which they are put or how reconciled, if at all. 

In art we find representations of nature's creations, and of human creation–of course the art work is itself a human construct.  In the painting above, the artist has depicted a largely nude woman,  flowers in her right hand, an hourglass in the other, and a human skull supporting her arm.  Above her head is the image of an ourobouros, a snake swallowing its own tail, an ancient symbol of eternity, and of the natural cycle of continuous birth and death, creation, destruction, and recreation that is fundamental to life as we know it.

Poets and other artists (scientists, too) invite us to look and to see more deeply into the nature of human experience and the cosmos, however small and close, however large and distant.   William Blake shows the power of attention and imaginative connection in a series of paradoxes in "Augeries of Innocence":  "To see a World in a Grain of Sand/And a Heaven in a Wild Flower" is one way he expresses this capacity for seeing beyond the thing at hand, to seeing the connections between life forms in an intuitive or "visionary" way. The emphasis on vision and imagination comes up over and over in poetry, as we shall see, and is often an aspect of what is called metapoetry, poetry that is about poetry or its making. An example is Billy Collins' "Sonnet," about, no surprise, how to make a sonnet. 

The following link provides an introduction to the topic of the sacred and associated religious and cultural history as well as symbols of sacredness such as water, mountains, caves, trees, stones, which often appear as symbols in poetry and story:  http://witcombe.sbc.edu/sacredplaces/sacredness.html   

We will look at Oscar Wilde's short story "The Artist"(http://www.literaturepage.com/read/wilde-essays-lectures-121.html);  in this story Wilde dramatizes the opposition between The Pleasure that Abideth for a Moment, and The Sorrow that Endureth for Ever.  In the story, the artist is an archetype of the creative human, one who will "fashion an image" from imagination and the stuff of experience to express something of what we feel in our life's journey.  The materials Wilde's artist uses have been used before, as is often the case in life, or can be found in raw natural form, for new-fashioned expression.

I reproduce here below definitions of Nature and Art:

 NATURE
1
a : the inherent character or basic constitution of a person or thing : essence 
2
a : a creative and controlling force in the universe
b : an inner force or the sum of such forces in an individual
3
: a kind or class usually distinguished by fundamental or essential characteristics <documents of a confidential nature> <acts of a ceremonial nature>
4
: the physical constitution or drives of an organism; especially : an excretory organ or function —used in phrases like the call of nature
5
: a spontaneous attitude (as of generosity)
6
: the external world in its entirety
7
a : humankind's original or natural condition

b : a simplified mode of life resembling this condition
8
: the genetically controlled qualities of an organism
9
: natural scenery

ART     A definition of  Art,  from Carl Jung's "The Poet":  Art is a kind of innate drive that seizes a human being and makes him its instrument.  The artist is not a person endowed with free will who seeks his own ends, but one who allows art to realize its purposes through him. . . .
     A great work of art is like a dream; for all its apparent obviousness it does not explain itself and is never unequivocal.  A dream never says:  "You ought," or:   "This is the Truth."  It presents an image in much the same way as nature allows a plant to grow, and we must draw our own conclusions.

And from Annie Dillard's "About Symbol": All art may be said to be symbolic in this sense:  it is a material mock-up of bright idea.  Any work of art symbolizes the process by which spirit generates matter, or materials generate idea.  Any work of art symbolizes juncture itself, the socking of eternity into time and energy into form.  

                                                                                                                                     Christian Houge



Homework:   Compose the first essay response (#1), typed and double-spaced and titled.  Read the Ernest Hemingway short stories "Three Shots" and "Indian Camp." In the coming weeks we'll look also at the bible stories "Cain and Abel"  and "The Prodigal Son" so that we can catch up on readings from week 1 not yet addressed.

No comments:

Post a Comment