I keep questioning, “What is art? What is poetry? And how did this poem make it into the Norton?” I enjoyed Elliot, Dickinson and Stein’s work for this week because of this particular matter. These poems/papers really answer some questions that I have been asking throughout this course. This week was productive in answering my questions in a few ways and stirring up further thoughts.
Elliot mentioned that good poetry is not about yourself and your emotions but outside of the author. Dickinson did very well in creating a character outside of herself in “348”. Elliot also mentioned good poetry evoked feelings without actually saying those feelings. These were constructive criticisms and very helpful, although hard, for me to work on to become a better poet. I can deal with trying to be outside of myself as a poet and I will work on this new type of creativity and astounding poetic ability that Dickinson portrays. I can agree with Elliot and Dickinson in their works to encourage others to use less experiences and impressions in straight forward manner, but, Stein just didn’t tickle my fancy. I completely disagreed with her! She went way beyond the ideas of Elliot and Dickinson to take away other aspects that I believe are necessary to being human no less a poet. I actually wrote a poem to her and about her “Masterpiece” paper. I was very upset and thought that her “calling out” of masterpieces was not right. I still wonder who is to judge a masterpiece. I remember in high school learning that all poetry; all art is “good” art to the viewer. I learned from Stein that good poetry and especially masterpieces have to no identity, no necessity, no familiarity, no memory, and no human nature. Good poetry is about the human mind. This is how I received Stein’s work and I was/am furious. I could be interpreting art way differently but I believe that there are “good”/successful works out there that encapsulate identity, time, familiarity, necessity, memory and human nature. I suppose we could get in to a psychology battle and argue whether we use human nature or human mind. I would like to say we are human and our nature is outward in everyway. One cannot shut out memory, identity, and human nature to write a poem. This is impossible. She is saying masterpieces are few because they must involved or not involve these things. I cannot wait for my poem to be workshopped, the one where I write a letter to Ms. Stein. I will not be in class on Thursday, but hopefully if I interpreted this article in a wrong way, someone please let me know so I can change my poem and letter to Gertrude.
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Chelsea--I'm very excited! Being mad at a prominent canonical author is a great place from which to write. I can't wait to read your letter to Gertrude Stein.
ReplyDeleteI can't tell entirely whether I think you're reading Stein in the same way that I do or not. It seems to me that Stein is very much concerned with an opposition between what she calls "identity" and what she calls "entity." Identity, for Stein, is social--socially created, created in recognizing that one is recognized by others. "I am I because my little dog knows me but, creatively speaking the little dog knowing that you are you and your recognising that he knows, that is what destroys creation." Masterpieces, Stein writes, are connected with entity--"that is with a thing in itself and not in relation." I see this perhaps as an admonition to egolessness on the part of the artist: Stein may be suggesting that the social person who wants recognition for her achievements cannot possibly be the same part of the person as the artist who creates. Or else it may be similar to TS Eliot's claim in "Tradition and the Individual Talent" that in art, "what happens is a continual surrender of himself [the artist] as he is at the moment to something which is more valuable. The progress of an artist is a continual self-sacrifice, a continual exinction of personality."
Of course, the confessional poets--folks like Robert Lowell and Sylvia Plath--would probably argue precisely the opposite thing--that the poet must put all of herself into her poetry . . .