Showing posts with label Adam Zagajewski. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Adam Zagajewski. Show all posts

Saturday, March 26, 2016

THE OTHER RESURRECTION: GREATEST STORY NEVER TOLD; JOSEPH CONRAD’S ATHEIST ETHICS; RESURRECTION: NO RESUSCITATION OF A CORPSE; TO THE OPOSSUM

DYNGUS: EASTER MONDAY

Father always managed to splash me,
shouting, Shmingus-dyngus! —
laughing as I’d run, shaking off
a trail of drops. The Church frowned

on the puddles of this pagan baptism.
Nuns taught me I was a sinner.
in the town where I was born,
a naked baroque angel

held gilded scales to weigh
good deeds against sin.
Heaven was up, hell was down.
the soul huddled, a chilled bird.

Mother said, “There is no hell.
God would not be so cruel.”
At ten I shuddered at the heresy:
hell was where my mother was going.

*

At fourteen I said, “If God exists,
let him strike me with lightning.”
Waited, shaking with terror.
For five minutes I could hardly

breathe.
Pigeons cooed.
Broken sunlight
redeemed the rain-streaked masonry.

I began to walk fast, away
from that first-communion girl,
lilacs in her arms, moist and heavy,
veins crossing the silk of leaves.

*

Across an ocean of baroque clouds,
that other country still exists. Other children
pick up yellow pebbles
on a Baltic beach, believing it’s amber.

Another girl wakes on Easter Monday,
her father hidden in the kitchen.
The water in the basin
shivers with impatient sheen.

*

My cat wakes me up at dawn,
sky rimmed with a narrow gold.
I wade in the gathering
light of resurrection.

In the yard, spires of lilacs.
I agree with a chittering bird:
it is only practical to be happy.
Again I will climb the same

mountain, follow the bleached star
of the dry yucca where the trail
sharply turns. I agree once more
to the mortal price of love.

At dusk I come home to Mozart,
my one-candle vespers.
The notes shape a brief heaven.
Fog erases the pine-dark hills.


~ Oriana © 2016


The Weighing of Souls, Autun Cathedral, Burgundy, c. 1130 


In 2010, at an art colony in Vermont, I told the famous Polish poet Adam Zagajewski the story of how I waited to be struck with lightning for my blasphemy. He replied, in his expressionless way that worked very well in this situation, “Sometimes there is a delay.”

Nevertheless, back in that moment, at fourteen, I knew I could be wrong: what if the sky wasn’t as vacant as it seemed and the monstrous invisible god did exist? I began to shake with fear. But I was willing to die and suffer in hell for eternity for daring to think on my own. I chose to be sentenced to eternal torture rather than worship a cruel god who created hell. It was the moment of the greatest courage in my life.

Greater courage than going to America by myself at mere seventeen and a half? Yes, I think so, since not just my life but my eternity was at stake. But I knew that I couldn’t abide the church’s blackmail anymore. I could remain enslaved forever, or I could be free — even if ultimately doomed. The conviction of that doom stayed with me for years (I knew my “test” wasn’t a conclusive proof, though if did a lot to reassure me).

It took even longer to learn that my experience wasn’t unique: former believers began to open up and admit that sometimes that woke up at night, seized with the terror of hell. What a church does to a child can never be totally deleted. For me religion was chiefly about hell. You can leave a toxic religion, but that religion never leaves you. Not completely. God ceases to exist at the intellectual level, but not at the emotional level, where the fires of hell smolder still. I’m resigned to that. It’s not a major fear anymore. Is it really still there? Probably only at the unconscious level — it would take dementia or a psychotic breakdown to activate it.

What helped a lot is understanding more deeply that there is no afterlife — no disembodied, brain-free soul that detaches at the moment of death and goes off to be judged. Sure, in a way I knew that the moment I realized that Christianity was just another mythology. But I truly understood this only more recently thanks to the flame analogy. When a candle burns out, the flame doesn’t “go” anywhere. It simply ceases when the fuel that sustained it is used up.

It’s true that “something of us” may remain — a memory, or something we said. We may enter the collective psyche in some tiny and anonymous way. But that’s entirely different from the persistence of an individual consciousness.

As for that tiny something that may remain, please read this blog post, a personal favorite of mine:

http://oriana-poetry.blogspot.com/2011/12/immortality-of-influence.html


To return for a moment to the experience of waiting to be struck with lightning for a blasphemous thought — how ludicrous, and yet how horrific to have been brainwashed with the idea of supernatural surveillance and punishment to this extent. The visible universe is estimated to contain one hundred billion galaxies. That the ruler of the universe would be concerned with a thought passing through the mind of a teenage girl in Warsaw, and violate the laws of nature in order to punish her, is bizarre. It was a fine springtime day, a few small white clouds, no chance of a thunderstorm.

But . . . we were taught that god watches us 24/7, and sees every thought in our sinful heads. Put that kind of insane garbage into a child’s head, and you can expect some insane bit of behavior. That kind of indoctrination is clearly child abuse.


*

No, “Ishtar” is not pronounced “Easter.” That name comes from Ostra, or Oestre (think “East”), the Germanic goddess of spring. But otherwise, yes.

Easter is an ancient pagan holiday  that falls close to the spring equinox, a springtime celebration of fertility. When I was a little girl, my mother pointed out to me that eggs that I duly took to church on Great Saturday to be sprinkled with the holy water were a symbol of fertility and springtime. At that point I was already used to my somewhat schizoid reality: I totally believed in science, e.g. in evolution, the long length of geological eras, and the huge size of the universe — but didn’t yet dare to draw the logical conclusion that the biblical account (e.g. Eve created from Adam’s rib) was simply nonsense — or call it mythology, at times endearing, at other times dark and disturbing — and if so, then no ruling deity existed.

“THE WRATH OF ZEUS”

Igoumenitsa, Greece; Stavros Dafis

SPEAKING OF COURAGE: MARTIN LUTHER

I think I understand better now why I was so thrilled when during a history class I first learned about Martin Luther’s rebellion against the church. Later I went on to learn that he was far from being an admirable human being. Still, risking his life, he dared to think for himself and to speak his mind.

And if Luther said that there was no Purgatory — that Purgatory had been made up by the church so that people would be buying masses for the dead and indulgences supposed to release souls from the Purgatory sooner — if Purgatory was made up, what other things could also be made up? I didn’t yet dare to follow up that question, but a seed was tossed into my mind. My mother said there was no hell; Luther said there was no Purgatory
— the unconscious mind starts working on this.

Luther also seemed right about the pagan customs incorporated by the church in the guise of being Catholic and holy. For instance, on Great Saturday I, and many other children, took a basket to church to be blessed. The basket contained onion-skin colored eggs, some bread, some sausage, and some green twigs — I was never told what plant it was, but including some young green leaves was obviously important — for decoration, I thought. Later it all made sense: it was a celebration of spring and fertility, and the hope of a plentiful food supply.

I liked the custom, just as I enjoyed watching the processions where icons and statues of Mary and various saints were paraded in the immediate vicinity of a church. In the countryside, a procession of this kind might actually lead into the fields, so the saints could bless the land. It was quite sweet, with singing and little girls tossing flower petals on the path ahead of the icons and statues. Idolatry? It’s all mythology, magic, theater. 


 
THE OTHER RESURRECTION: THE GREATEST STORY NEVER TOLD

“Do you know how many people the Bible says were raised from the dead on Easter weekend?

I have to point out to Christians, many of whom maintain that the Bible cannot be wrong, that in one place (and only one place) the Bible says that a whole bunch of people came out of their graves right after Jesus died on the afternoon of Good Friday and then walked around Jerusalem…a couple of days later.  Here’s what it says in the gospel attributed to Matthew about the moment that Jesus died:

   ~ At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs after Jesus’ resurrection and went into the holy city and appeared to many people. ~ (Matthew 27:51-53; emphasis mine)

In all my years in church I don’t recall ever once hearing a preacher acknowledge from the pulpit that a bunch of people were raised from the dead and appeared to many on Easter weekend.  Have you ever heard one talk about this?  Surely somebody has addressed it at some point.  But most of them don’t, and never will.  I find that fascinating!

They’ve heard about the earthquake. They know all about the tearing of the veil.  I’ve heard that preached about many times.  I myself have taught before about the significance of the veil because the book of Hebrews builds on that symbolism and it is rich with theological import (incidentally we have zero external historical verification for that happening, but never mind that right now). But for all the messages and sermons and studies I’ve heard on the first part of that passage, I’ve heard almost nothing about a mass resurrection or about a subsequent flash mob in the middle of Jerusalem on Easter weekend.

Does anybody really believe that this fantastic story happened? I’m not sure even Christians believe this happened.  Preachers don’t talk about it, and most Christians don’t even seem aware this story is even in there.  It’s the greatest story never told. The few who know it’s there just scratch their heads and say, “I’m not really sure what to do with that.”  This story is problematic for several reasons.

First of all, no other gospel writer says a word about a mass resurrection. This story is unique to Matthew’s gospel.  If something this dramatic really happened, why did no other gospel writer say a word about it?  And not only that, but nobody else ever says a word about it again, ever—not Paul, not Peter, not James or John—nobody!  That’s insane.  If this was supposed to have really happened, you’d think it would show up somewhere.  It should show up everywhere. But it never does again.

Even the details of the story are really fuzzy. It says there was an earthquake when Jesus died.  It was so big that “rocks split.” It’s unclear whether or not that was the cause of the graves opening, but what’s clear is that it says a bunch of people came back from the dead at that moment. How long had they been dead? Were they decomposed or had they been resurrected in fresh form? And how long did they hang around their graves before they came into town to circulate among the townspeople? All weekend? It says they were raised on Friday afternoon but curiously it says they didn’t go into town until after the resurrection. What did they do during all that time?

This story really is a fly in the ointment for the infallibilists among evangelicals and fundamentalists.  I know not everybody is hung up on having a perfect Bible, but if there’s any place they care about insisting it can’t be wrong, it’s right here on Easter weekend.  They may have decided the Bible can be wrong about common ancestry, or a worldwide flood, or even the Exodus or how many wives and concubines Solomon really had, but not this.

 Bible Story That Nobody Believes

Just to appease my curiosity I spent the better part of a Saturday in my old conservative seminary’s library rounding up as many commentaries on this passage as I could find. I surveyed the whole gamut of biblical scholarship from the most liberal to the most conservative and do you wanna know what I discovered?

Almost none of them think this really happened. Even the conservative scholars. Even the ones committed to biblical inerrancy. The Word Biblical Commentary has this to say about the passage:

    ~ A surprising number of commentators sidestep the historical question altogether. Those who do raise it can be found to use terms such as “puzzling,” “strange,” “mysterious.” Stalwart commentators known for their conservatism are given to hesitance here…

    We should not, of course, rule out a priori that Matthew may be recording historical events in these verses. If God raised Jesus from the dead, he surely can have raised a number of saints prior to the time of the general resurrection…The problem is that the event makes little historical sense, whereas what does make sense is the theological point that is being made. ~

[Theologians] who are still tied to the pulpit in one way or another cannot openly admit that they don’t think this story really happened. That would get them in far too much hot water. Those who write commentaries for their benefit must also be extremely judicious in the language they choose to explain the many things wrong with this story. Most have to obfuscate and equivocate and say things like Raymond Brown says in his famous commentary here:

  ~  …this popular, poetic description is deliberately vague—its forte is atmosphere, not details…to make a matter of major concern their literal historicity is to fail to understand their nature as symbols and the literary genre in which they are presented. ~

Except that’s not really how the story is being told, is it?  The writer of the gospel of Matthew isn’t speaking poetically here, no matter what parallels can be found in either Old Testament symbolism or contemporary Roman folklore. This story ventures beyond apocalyptic poetry and claims that the risen dead marched into Jerusalem and showed themselves to the residents, presumably as further proof that something supernatural has just happened.  That’s how the story goes.  And nobody who’s really wrestled with the implications seems to really think that happened.

Which means we’ve got a double standard at work here.  The story of Jesus rising from the dead has to be true. But nobody in his right mind can make a good case that this other part of the story makes any sense.  So they sweep it under the rug and then tell you to stop scrutinizing the story so meticulously.  “You’re asking the wrong questions,” they say. “Pay no attention to that over there, only look at this over here.  That stuff over there is mysterious, and we’re not meant to understand.”

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/godlessindixie/2015/03/29/the-greatest-story-never-told/


Oriana:

I seem to remember (though I can’t swear to it) having heard the passage read in church, but with no comment whatever — whereas the earthquake, the solar eclipse, and the tearing of the veil did get a lot of dramatic emphasis.

I'm fairly certain that I heard in church and during religion lessons about the earthquake splitting boulders and the graves opening up. But it seems we were never told about the dead rising from those graves and walking around the city -- just as we were never presented with the passage in Mark that states that the family of Jesus came to take him away, saying that Jesus was "out of his mind" (the Patheos article discusses this too).

But now the cat is out of the bag, so to speak: the dead are out of their graves. What happened later to those other resurrectees? After having visited with friends and relatives, did they just return to their tombs and resumed being dead? What a drag that would be, after their  little walk and socializing . . .

But I wasn’t overly concerned with that. Perhaps because my grandmother was a seamstress, the immediate question in my mind as a child was not theological at all. Instead, I was curious if the torn temple veil got sewn up again. Surely the fabric was expensive, and it would be wasteful to just throw it out and get a new veil (obviously I didn’t grow up with American mentality about replacing rather than mending). Of course I knew that it was best to keep such questions to myself. 


Of course the mass resurrection mentioned only in Matthew is not the only story that is to be highly doubted. Later I learned that there was never any census that required anyone to return to the town of their birth; Mary and Joseph were not likely to be names of the parents of Jesus, but dignified names out of the Old Testament; there was no “slaughter of the innocents” and thus no flight into Egypt and return from Egypt (the story was created to serve as an echo of the Exodus);  and more. There are whole books devoted to debunking the historicity of the gospels. Obviously the correct reading is mythological. If there is an inspiring message to be found in those stories, wonderful. But first of all, we have to come to grips with the fact that this is a mythology.

Roses are excellent at resurrection; here is my Rio Samba, 8 weeks or so after a severe pruning

BISHOP SPONG: THE RESURRECTION WAS NOT THE RESUSCITATION OF A CORPSE

 
~ “When one reads the New Testament in the order in which these books were written, a fascinating progression is revealed. Paul, for example, writing between the years 50 and 64 or some 20 to 34 years after the earthly life of Jesus came to an end, never describes the resurrection of Jesus as a physical body resuscitated after death. There is no hint in the Pauline corpus that one who had died later walked out of his grave clothes, emerged from the tomb and was seen by his disciples.

What Paul does suggest is that Easter meant that God had acted to reverse the verdict that the world had pronounced on Jesus by raising Jesus from death into God. It was, therefore, out of God in a transforming kind of heavenly vision that this Jesus then appeared to certain chosen witnesses. Paul enumerates these witnesses and, in a telling detail, says that this was the same Jesus that Paul himself had seen. No one suggests that Paul ever saw a resuscitated body.

Please note that the story of the Ascension had not been written when these Pauline words were formed. Paul did not envision the Resurrection as Jesus being restored to life in this world but as Jesus being raised into God. It was not an event in time but a transcendent and transforming truth.

Paul died, according to our best estimates, around the year 64 C.E. The first Gospel was not written until the early 70’s. Paul never had a chance to read the Easter story in any Gospel. The tragedy of later Christian history is that we read Paul through the lens of the Gospels. Thus we have both distorted Paul and also confused theology.

When Mark, the first Gospel, was written the Risen Christ never appears. The last time Jesus is seen comes when his deceased body is taken from the cross and laid in the tomb. Mark’s account of the Resurrection presents us with the narrative of mourning women confronting an empty tomb, meeting a messenger who tells them that Jesus has been raised and asking these women to convey to the disciples that Jesus will meet them in Galilee. Mark then concludes his Gospel with a picture of these women fleeing in fear, saying nothing to anyone (16:1-8).

So abrupt was this ending that people began to write new endings to what they thought was Mark’s incomplete story. Two of those endings are actually reproduced in the King James Version of the Bible as verses 9-20. But thankfully, these later creations have been removed from the text of Mark in recent Bibles and placed into footnotes. The sure fact of New Testament scholarship is that Mark’s Gospel ended without the Risen Christ ever being seen by anyone.

Both Matthew, who wrote between 80-85, and Luke, who wrote between 88-92, had Mark to guide their compositions. Both changed, heightened and expanded Mark. It is fascinating to lift those changes into consciousness and to ask what was it that motivated Matthew and Luke to transform Mark’s narrative. Did they have new sources of information? Had the story grown over the years in the retelling?

The first thing to note is that Matthew changes Mark’s story about the women at the tomb. First, the messenger in Mark becomes a supernatural angel in Matthew’s story. Next Matthew says the women do see Jesus in the garden. They grasp him by the feet and worship him. This is the first time in Christian history that the Resurrection is presented as physical resuscitation. It occurs in the 9th decade of the Christian era. It should be noted that it took more than 50 years to begin to interpret the Easter experience as the resuscitated body of the deceased Jesus. When Matthew presents the story of the risen Jesus to the disciples, it is on a mountaintop in Galilee where he appears out of the sky armed with heavenly power. Recall once again that when Matthew wrote this narrative the story of Jesus’ ascension had not yet entered the tradition.

Luke follows Mark’s story line about the women at the tomb, stating that they do not see Jesus in the garden on Easter morning. Luke, however, has turned Mark’s messenger into two angelic beings. He has also transferred the locale of Easter to Jerusalem specifically denying Mark’s words spoken through the messenger that Jesus will meet them in Galilee. Luke has heightened dramatically the physicality of Jesus’ resuscitated body. In Luke, the resuscitated Jesus walks, talks, eats, teaches and interprets. He also appears and disappears at will. He invites the disciples to handle his flesh. He asserts that he is not a ghost. Finally in order to remove this physically resuscitated Jesus from the earth, Luke develops the story of Jesus’ Ascension.

Even in the Ascension narrative, however, Luke is not consistent. In the last chapter of his Gospel the Ascension takes place on Easter Sunday afternoon. In the first chapter of Acts, which Luke also writes, the Ascension takes place 40 days after Easter. Whereas the messenger in Mark, who becomes an angel in Matthew, directs the disciples to Galilee for a meeting with the risen Christ, Luke specifically denies any Galilean resurrection tradition. He orders the disciples to remain in Jerusalem until they are endowed with power from on high. The narrative is clearly growing.

In John, the Fourth Gospel (95-100), the physicality of the Resurrection is even more enhanced. In the 20th chapter of this Gospel Jesus appears first to Mary Magdalene in the garden and says to her, “Mary do not cling to me.” One cannot cling to something that is non-physical. Then John suggests that Jesus ascends immediately into heaven before appearing, presumably out of heaven, that night to the disciples, who are missing Thomas. Though Jesus appears able to enter an upper room in which the windows have been closed and the doors locked, he is once again portrayed as being quite physical. This physical quality is further enhanced a week later when Jesus makes a second appearance to the disciples, this time with Thomas present. It is in this narrative that Thomas is invited to touch the nail prints and to examine the place in his side into which the spear had been hurled. All of these appearances take place in Jerusalem.

Chapter 21 of John’s Gospel portrays a Galilean appearance much later in time after the disciples have actually returned to their fishing trade. Here Jesus directs them to a great catch of fish, 153 of them to be specific. Then he eats with them. Finally he restores Peter after his three-fold denial.

When these biblical data are assembled and examined closely, two things become clear. First something of enormous power gripped the disciples following the crucifixion that transformed their lives. Second, it was some fifty years before that transforming experience was interpreted as the resuscitation of a three days dead Jesus to the life of the world. Our conversation about the meaning of Easter must begin where these two realities meet.” ~

http://johnshelbyspong.com/sample-essays/the-resurrection/


Oriana:

Paul seems to be saying that Jesus “appeared” to him [Paul], and to the disciples shortly after his death, as a heavenly being, or a spirit body. The word used by Paul in reference to both himself and the disciples is one that can be interpreted as a “having a vision” rather than experiencing a physical reality. Jesus wasn’t physically “seen”; rather, he “appeared.”

We know that one of the most common form of hallucination is bereavement visions; for instance, the recently dead person seems to be walking just ahead. We may even run up to that person, and only then see it’s a stranger after all, sometimes not even especially similar to the deceased. Or we may hear the person’s voice or certain other sounds indicating the deceased is nearby. I speak both from personal experience and that of friends and others.

A simpler explanation is that “historical Jesus” never existed and that we are dealing here with another dying and rising god. The resurrection story developed during a cultural era when dying and rising gods were nothing new. Even if historical Jesus existed, the existing death-and resurrection narratives would have likely influenced the story.

Attis, Ostia Antica

JOSEPH CONRAD’S ATHEIST ETHICS

from Milosz’s “The Land of Ulro”: “Intellectual freedom in a Catholic country always goes hand in hand with atheism, and a comparison of [G’s] aristocratic atheism with [P’s] peasant atheism would make a splendid topic. As would the careers of other Polish atheists. The son of the devoutly Christian Apollo Korzeniowski, Joseph Conrad, could say: “The starry sky above me, the moral law within me” — and the inspiration for his irreligious ethics need not have come from Kant: Seneca would have sufficed.”

Fascinated, I googled Conrad’s views on religion, and got this from the British Humanist Association:

“He disliked the narrowness of his upbringing, particularly his father’s religious zeal. Later in life he wrote to a friend: “It’s strange how I always, from the age of 14, disliked the Christian religion, its doctrines, ceremonies and festivals … Christianity has lent itself with amazing facility to cruel distortion … and has brought an infinity of anguish to innumerable souls – on this earth.”

(Oriana: This reminds me of Nietzsche’s: “Religions are at bottom systems of cruelty.”)

“As a young man, he became fascinated by the sea and sailed to many places, especially in Africa and Asia, first as a sailor and then as a captain. He was saddened to see the divisions caused by religious belief in the many countries he visited. He came to look on humanity not as different nationalities or races but simply as people. It was the brotherhood and sisterhood of all human beings that concerned him. He saw this broken by advocates of the many, and differing, religions practiced in the world. His boyhood had made him distrust dogmatic attitudes of this kind.

He read an essay, A Free Man’s Worship, by the famous philosopher and humanist, Bertrand Russell, which said: ‘We should worship only the God created by our own love of the good.’ Conrad wrote to Russell saying, ‘For the marvelous pages on the worship of a free man, the only return one can make is that of deep admiring affection.”

His religious skepticism appears in his novels. In Under Western Eyes, he writes: “A belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary; men alone are capable of every wickedness.” In Heart of Darkness he says, “We live, as we dream – alone.” And Under Western Eyes shows his humanist morality: “All a man can betray is his conscience.” One of the main histories of English literature says that although in his writing Conrad was a realist, he was also “a thinker and a poet”; that in his work there is “a profound ethical element”; and his “idealism lies in the sense of the unknown which we brush past at every moment,” an unusual way of referring to his agnostic view of life.

Joseph Conrad admired other writers with a humanistic, rationalist outlook. To John Galsworthy, the novelist and playwright, he wrote, making clear his own rejection of dogma: “Skepticism is the tonic of mind, the tonic of life, the agent of truth. It is the way of art and salvation.”


Oriana: 


Apollo Korzeniowski (Conrad’s father) seems insufferable to me mostly because he was a fanatical nationalist. I haven’t thought of the Catholic angle. The two were no doubt fused together, a phenomenon I later observed in the Catholic church under the Communist rule, which I too found repugnant, yet another way the church tried to control the masses, the idolatry of “God and Fatherland” as a cover for repressive right-wing mentality.

Conrad chose stoicism just as he chose to write in English, though his fluency in French was perfect (he spoke it without an accent) — perhaps because there is something heroic about going with the difficult, but maybe primarily because he admired both the language of Shakespeare and the English culture with its stoic ideal.

I wonder if “aristocratic atheism” and “peasant atheism,” terms that Milosz doesn't explain, form a kind of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza pair. I was fascinated to read that there used to be a lot of anti-clericalism in the Polish countryside, including songs about the corruption and predatory sexual behavior of priests.

Certain Poles accused Conrad of betraying Poland and his native language, but Conrad had his reply: “A man can betray only his conscience.” I am so glad he didn't yield to “patriotic” pressure, which must have been enormous.

And I realize that the loathsome "God and Fatherland" Catholicism that poisoned my childhood must have been only a fraction of what young Conrad was force-fed. To recover from that, to see life and the world in a more universal light, what a journey. And finally, to transform all that pain into the honey of art.

The monument to Joseph Conrad in Gdynia

TO THE OPPOSUM

To the opossum I saw one night picking off grubs (or something) from my Jurassic araukaria, and who got scared at seeing me and ran away: Come back! My lawn is your lawn, my tree is your tree.


ending on beauty

I intended
Never to grow old —
But the temple bell sounds.

~ Jokun, 17th century
 (translated by R. H. Blyth)



 

Charles:

Had to look up Dyngus. Now the poem makes sense and is beautiful. But your commentary on going face to face with God and possibly end up in Hell is so powerfully courageous and is more than beautiful. It is truly inspirational.

I also love your light-hearted treatment of  Bible Story That Nobody Believes. If I was teaching a midrash about it, I would have everybody embellish the story even more so they could see even more how obviously ridiculous the story is.

I gained a new appreciation for the opossum.


Oriana:

Thanks for the lovely comments. I hope that readers who aren’t sure google Dyngus. All of a sudden I am also once more in awe of the creative process: how did I connect all the things in that poem? Of course it all flowed from the cognitive-creative unconscious, without any conscious deliberation. That came only during revision, when I changed a few words.

The wild story in Matthew deserves more attention since it throws into question everything else that’s in the gospels and in the bible in general. Should we take any of it literally? What supportive evidence would it require?

Just recently I learned that the Mormon church used to preach that Jesus was married to multiple women and had children — and that some members of the Mormon church were actually genetic descendants of Jesus. That claim was later dropped. What about various other claims? But we know there is no end of making up stories — and usually no harm when we know a story is fiction. It’s when fiction is mistaken for facts that serious harm can result.










Thursday, October 7, 2010

ZAGAJEWSKI'S "ANTI-CRAFT LECTURE" AT VSC, SEPTEMBER 2010

                                            
                                                          STEFAN GEORGE


ADAM ZAGAJEWSKI’S “ANTI-CRAFT LECTURE” AT VERMONT STUDIO CENTER, SEPTEMBER 2010


On September 17, 2010, I was privileged to attend Adam Zagajewski’s “craft lecture” at Vermont Studio Center. “This is going to be an anti-craft lecture,” Zagajewski said. “I don’t think that the problem with American poetry is insufficient craft.” It should be mentioned here that until recently Zagajewski taught creative writing during the Spring Semester at Houston University. He did this for eighteen years. He now teaches at the University of Chicago as a member of Committee on Social Thought. He describes his students as “multidisciplinary.”

Zagajewski began by praising MFA programs for making universities "a little less academic," and for “beautifully defending the reading habits, which are threatened by the modern media.” However, a typical MFA curriculum is absurd, he believes. What students need most is not learning how to write villanelles, sonnets, or sestinas. Nor do they need to know the names of rhetorical figures. Those labels are important for critics, not poets.

The emphasis on craft as opposed to content can lead to aesthetic sterility: “a poem should not mean, but be.” (Oriana: I was thrilled that someone finally dared to kick that sacred cow, those words whipped into our psyches when we were young and forced to digest incoherent volumes that claimed to be “introduction to poetry.”)

“The founding fathers and mothers of MFA programs chose the path of neutrality in terms of a larger vision,” the speaker stated. Instead of a concern with content, they chose an emphasis on craft. He noted that students tend to imitate the style of their teacher, the big-name star of a particular MFA program. He even encountered a student who had studied with Geoffrey Hill, and afterwards produced poems in the style of Geoffrey Hill – quite a feat. (See the end of this report for two poems by Hill.)

The problem, as Zagajewski sees it, is this: “The larger intellectual content is missing.” MFA students who have a deep knowledge in another area, be it music, history, geology, or philosophy, are an exception. Writing students are not exposed to intellectual disciplines. Typically, they are not required to take any courses in the humanities.  

The MFA programs were started partly in reaction to the idea that the old-style way of going about a poet’s education was “shapeless.” Those were the “so-called Jean-Paul Sartre writing programs – students met with a professor in a café and discussed the meaning of life.” Now we don’t discuss whether or not life is worth living, Zagajewski continued. “If you are going to study craft, then obviously you are going to live.” But the problem is lack of exposure to other disciplines, particularly in the humanities.

“One of the great charms of poetry is that it is not totally defined,” Zagajewski observed. “Poetry is one of the oldest things in the world, but each generation defines it in a new way.”

“Poetry is an act of participation in the world through language,” he stated. These days, however, poets are not “public intellectuals.” Auden was “almost a public intellectual” – a generalist, not a specialist. Auden believed that a poet should study things other than poetry – botany, the songs of birds.

Yeats was brought up as a poet fully engaged in the issues of his time. Zagajewski also gave the example of Czeslaw Milosz, a poet who “quarreled with modernism.” Milosz was a religious poet who hated the religious right. A liberal mind, he expressed religious longing, but opposed fundamentalism.

Poets who were also public intellectuals, such as Yeats, Eliot, and Pound, tended to hate modernity and the modern world. Yeats defended the remnants of magic and mysticism against the progress of rationality. Elizabeth Bishop also defended “an older pattern of being human.” Seamus Heaney, on the other hand, defends moderation against political extremism. These are examples of poets whose concern extended beyond poetry as a purely esthetic realm.

Zagajewski devoted the rest of his lecture mainly to the charismatic pre-war German poet, Stefan George (1868-1933). “I don’t like his poems,” Zagajewski stated, “but I am fascinated by him as an influential cultural figure, a poet who was a charismatic leader.” George too was a critic of the modern world, and was attracted to the mystical notion of the “secret Germany,” based on aristocratic ideals.

It was the sociologist Max Weber who came up with the concept of a “charismatic leader.” He coined the term after meeting Stefan George.

While George’s circle has been called “proto-fascist,” it should be noted that the greatest hero of the German Resistance, Claus von Stauffenberg, was influenced by George’s views. (Oriana: According to an eyewitness of Stauffenberg’s execution, the condemned man’s last words were, “Long live secret Germany!”)   

Zagajewski considers George a “generalist who went too far” and became intoxicated with his vision.

“Why am I spending so much time on Stefan George? Because you don’t know about him, and I am fascinated by him,” Zagajewski said. As he sees it, poets learn mainly outside the classroom; they are self-taught through reading. (Oriana: after returning from Vermont, I ordered the book on George that Zagajewski mentioned. I likewise don’t like George’s poems, but for me the most fascinating part of the lecture was precisely the part about George and the “secret Germany.” Is there a “secret America”?)

“Europe does not need to import American-style writing programs because European writers can meet more easily, for instance in cafés,” Zagajewski stated. “There are always people to talk to.” But in the United States, except for New York, Boston, and San Francisco, this is not true, and writers face loneliness.

Sundry points raised during the discussion included “science is surely but slowly replacing art.” (Oriana: In a recent essay, Milan Kundera remarked, “We have come to the era of post-art because the need for art, the sensitivity and love for it, is dying.”)

One participant brought up the interesting fact that during the Cold War the CIA financed certain literary magazines. The idea was to encourage the opposite of social realism in the arts, and use it for propaganda purposes as an example of American cultural freedom.

Later, one of the poets remarked that MFA programs attract the first generation to go to college – those among them who are trying to make sense of their lives. I couldn't help thinking:  Yes, those who ventured far from their childhood, and now find themselves in a strange land, exiled without return. Maybe that’s why poets sometimes say to me, “We understand you better than you think; we are all immigrants.”

**

John Guzlowski sent us this example of a poem by Geoffrey Hill:

SEPTEMBER SONG
born 19.6.32 - deported 24.9.42

Undesirable you may have been, untouchable
you were not. Not forgotten
or passed over at the proper time.

As estimated, you died. Things marched,
sufficient, to that end.
Just so much Zyklon and leather, patented
terror, so many routine cries.

(I have made
an elegy for myself it
is true)

September fattens on vines. Roses
flake from the wall. The smoke
of harmless fires drifts to my eyes.

This is plenty. This is more than enough.

**

Geoffrey Hill famously said that “the poem is a struggle between truth and meter.”

Here is another poem by Geoffrey Hill, revealing both his knowledge of history and the clotted density of his style (which I personally abhor – I love transparency and easy flow):

REQUIEM FOR THE PLANTAGENET KINGS

For whom the possessed sea littered, on both shores,   
Ruinous arms; being fired, and for good,
To sound the constitution of just wars,
Men, in their eloquent fashion, understood.

Relieved of soul, the dropping-back of dust,   
Their usage, pride, admitted within doors;
At home, under caved chantries, set in trust,   
With well-dressed alabaster and proved spurs   
They lie; they lie; secure in the decay
Of blood, blood-marks, crowns hacked and coveted,   
Before the scouring fires of trial-day
Alight on men; before sleeked groin, gored head,   
Budge through the clay and gravel, and the sea   
Across daubed rock evacuates its dead.

*

Pondering this “anti-craft craft lecture,” I felt grateful both for my early educational foundation (oppressive as the Polish school system felt at the time), and for my enforced grounding in Catholicism, likewise oppressive in some ways. Some of what I learned has entered my poems. Interestingly, this has led to a feeling that I am “from a different planet,” surrounded by peers who write nothing but family poems, and an occasional nature poem. I hasten to say that some of those family poems are excellent.

**

Steve Kowit:

Zagajewski's longing for a poetry in which craft is employed in the service of content is absolutely on the money. What counts, as a character in Joyce's Ulysses observes, is from how deep a source the work springs. But I suppose it's far more difficult to teach insight, spirit, a profound sense of life and reality, than it is to teach craft... so of course we need to teach craft. But we should always be alerting our students to the fact that poetry is about vision.

Political poetry is largely eschewed in the US but that's probably because we're the landlords and it's more likely that the tenants write out of social & political passion--Black poetry, Hispanic poetry, feminist poetry... the landlords don't have that passion generally. That our journals are not filled with poems about the murdered Iraqis & Afghanis & the demeaned & dispossessed Palestinians is a sign of the paucity of the spirit of the privileged!

The poetry that is merely "about" language, or pure craft is of a lesser order than a poetry reflecting a luminous sense of life. & the putative "subject" could be family or the description of a tattoo on someone's arm (i.e., that wonderful Ted Kooser poem). Goeffrey Hill's Holocaust poem is the first poem of his I've ever half understood. I'll take Jeffers and Whitman & Mary Oliver & Ginsberg!!...

Here is Kooser’s poem:

Tattoo

What once was meant to be a statement –
a dripping dagger held in the fist
of a shuddering heart – is now just a bruise
on a bony old shoulder, the spot
where vanity once punched him hard
and the ache lingered on. He looks like
someone you had to reckon with,
strong as a stallion, fast and ornery,
but on this chilly morning, as he walks
between the tables at a yard sale
with the sleeves of his tight black T-shirt
rolled up to show us who he was,
he is only another old man, picking up
broken tools and putting them back,
his heart gone soft and blue with stories.

**
Oriana:

Zagajewski wonderfully defined poems as “short tragedies.” This is precisely a “short tragedy.” It’s also what I call a “narrow slice.” There is wonderful focus and specificity. Craft? Yes. Content? Yes – universal. I see no need here for the "knowledge of humanities." What matters is the knowledge of life. 

It seems to me that AZ stands midway between the American "poetry of personality" and what, for lack of a better term, I’d call the less personal, broader perspective. Some might call this broader perspective philosophical statements; those more hostile to this kind of poetry might accuse AZ of trying to play the sage. His best poems are a good mix of the personal and the general.

I also agree with the statement that if you go into the personal deeply enough, some very broad things can emerge. In my observation this is more likely to happen if the personal narrative is a “narrow slice.” Pick a single incident and go deeply into it – that is part of craft, and it can be taught. Compression can be taught. Interesting line breaks can be taught, effective beginnings and endings.

Ultimately, however, I agree that a writer either has a rich mentality or s/he doesn't. It's fairly easy to imitate Kafka's style, but impossible to "teach" the kind of eccentric mentality that Kafka had. Or Emily Dickinson, for that matter. It takes a special kind of development, including immense solitude. Engagement with the world? Yes, but immense solitude is probably a more primary requirement.

Steve says, “The landlords don’t have that passion, generally.” This makes me think of the blossoming of Polish poetry after WWII; there is no doubt that tragic history had much to do with it – “passion” in the sense of suffering, as well as intensity. At the same time, those poets had the wider cultural foundation that American poets are often deprived of, due to inadequate education (regardless of having college degrees). 

In Hill’s Holocaust poem, it’s easy to overlook the fact that the “deported one” is a child. I admire “patented / terror, so many routine cries” – but the lack of specifics means that this poem doesn’t touch my heart.

On the other hand, Kooser’s poem resonates with me. Good American poetry often employs the “narrow slice” to illuminate the human condition, and conforms well to AZ’s definition of a poem as a “short tragedy.” Mediocre European poetry often strikes a “from above” philosophical pose and speaks from a broad perspective, not providing the specifics that have emotional power.

In a different vein, while everyone deplores the failure of American education to provide the kind of foundation that later makes adult self-education a matter of course, we need to consider the harsh reality of how squeezed a typical American poet is for time, given that s/he works for a living and/or is raising children. That any real poems, good poems, get produced under these circumstances is amazing.  Mothers who get up at dawn so they can gain of hour of reading and writing time are heroic.

**











Ewa Parma, a Polish poet living near Katowice, Poland:

I absolutely agree, these are my own thoughts. Too much form, too little content. And: "The larger intellectual content is missing, students are not exposed to intellectual disciplines" - it's the same with people studying music or art, if they are not interested in anything else but their instrument or merely painting, they can be only craftsmen. And one more thing: if you don't have a deep sense of tragedy of life interwoven somehow with your mentality, you will never write a moving poem.

Oriana:

Thank you, Ewa! I am thrilled to have a comment from a Polish poet.

I was particularly struck by what you say about having a deep sense of tragedy. It reminded me of, “You can’t play great music unless your heart has been broken.” I no longer know who said it, but it sounds true.  At a more primal level than poetry, music is the language of feeling. It’s commonly believed that a pianist who has not had deep emotional experiences will sound mechanical. Hence the new saying, “You play like an Asian child” (no offense meant to Asian children). We are not interested in mere skill.

School can’t provide just the right degree of trauma, but life will, especially if you are a sensitive, introverted person – it’s only a matter of time. We don't have child prodigies in poetry, and not too many interesting poets under 40. It’s not only a matter of the kind of wisdom that comes with experience, but also of emotional intensity – and for that, you must have felt desperate at some point, even suicidal.  “Genius is the way you invent yourself out of desperation” – again I don’t know who said it, but again it sounds true. (See my post on “sufficient trauma” http://oriana-poetry.blogspot.com/2010/06/and-just-right-degree-of-trauma.html )

I also suspect that if you have little knowledge of suffering, you won't be able to express sublime joy either. 

As for the intellectual component of a richer mentality, I think everyone agrees that writing programs could do a lot more – even though ultimately writers are self-taught through lifelong self-education.

**
Dr. Joseph Glaser, professor of British Literature, Western Kentucky University:



I've heard the same argument concerning studio art – all vessel, no content. Years ago we had a painting teacher here, Rama Rau, an Indian, whose students hated him and drove him off for requiring them to read the NY Times. You couldn't be a good painter, he thought, without knowing what was going on in the world. 

I’m not sure I buy that proposition when it comes to painting. It's an easier connection to make in terms of writing, but I wonder about it even there. If you could drill down rigorously into yourself as a generally unstuffed bag of urges and potential, couldn't you find enough content for writing? And mightn’t the act itself be a sort of ideological assertion? Or, say your intentions were purely decorative or formal – if that's possible – why wouldn't your work be as valuable as anyone else’s?


If nothing else, I’d be hesitant about any theory of art that used Eliot and Pound for poster boys. Seems to me they succeeded in spite of many of their views, not because of them.


Oriana:

How wonderful to see someone take a bold stand against what AZ advises. It seems to me that much recent American poetry has in fact excelled in taking the psychological perspective, exploring the personal in a deep way.

At the same time, having grown up in Poland myself, I can empathize with Zagajewski's shock at his U of Houston students' ignorance of history, literature, myth, philosophy, and so on. Every European intellectual who comes to the U.S. goes through that shock. On the other hand, too much erudition is probably a greater danger to a poet than too little. Taking too broad a perspective can ruin a poem, while a "narrow slice" can paradoxically yield something immense.

I also find your point about Eliot and Pound to be quite perceptive. I am not sure that Pound even succeeded; I find most of his Cantos unreadable, incoherent fragments of erudition (with beautiful passages here and there). As for Zagajewski's current fascination with Stefan George, yes, George was a fascinating figure, but we definitely wouldn't want him to serve as a role model. As a proto-Fascist, he makes Pound seem innocuous.


Another issue is that America never had a poet who was the kind of charismatic leader that Yeats was in Ireland or George in Germany. Nor is one likely to emerge, now that movies and the Internet have become both the reflection of the nation’s spirit and its shapers. Even novels gain mass audience only when they are made into movies. So no matter how well-educated a poet becomes, and how engaged with the world, his or her influence on anyone other than fellow poets is bound to be miniscule.



**
Ursula:



I prefer my poetry to be linear and unadorned 
and so Geoffrey Hill's poems
tied my bowels in screeching knots 
and made my brain ache for a nice tree to lean against.
Oriana:
Geoffrey Hill is the darling of Harold Bloom, who prophesied that Hill’s poems will be among those that survive. The Norton Anthology describes his work as “ultimately comprehensible.” Alas, his convoluted poems deal with subjects such as the War of the Roses, and I am yet to meet anyone who enjoys this poet. 
*
Jill Moses:

It reminds me of what one of my writing teachers once said: "If all you do is sit around and write poetry all day, your poems will be self-referential. And you will write about writing poetry. If you go horseback riding, then maybe you'll write about that."

Or something like that. But that stuck with me. So off I go to live life and do errands! No wonder so many of us write about the small, tedious moments in life.  Because that is what we are experiencing!!  : )  

Oriana:

I’ve always abhorred poems about writing poems, and songs about songs. It’s interesting that beginners are always producing scores of poems about poems! I’m tempted to say that the less a person knows about writing, the more s/he is likely to write about it and the imaginary romance with the Muse (perhaps for lack of a real romance in the author’s life).

When the writer’s mentality is rich enough, even “small moments” can give rise to interesting poems. I agree with Zagajewski that the MFA programs should be concerned with enriching the student’s mentality, rather than exercises on how to write a villanelle. On the other hand, to me “craft” does not mean being able to write a villanelle. That’s definitely not what defines a great poet. To me craft is about essential artistic matters such as imagery and “narrow slice” and effective openings and endings. It’s about a wise selection of details, rather than piling up tiresome long lists. And a poet who has a rich mentality but lacks craft in the true sense of the word needs to learn craft. This comes mainly through reading, but good workshops (or a private email exchange among peers) can be a shortcut.

**

Brad:

We are all best at writing what we know. So family and events we have observed are relatively easy to write about. But we should all ask ourselves “What else do we know?”

Many great advances and breakthroughs have occurred because one discipline was applied to another (for example, the artificial heart resulted from applying engineering to medicine). We should use poetry to express new thoughts and feelings in whatever areas we’re familiar with: teaching, learning, physics, psychology, sociology, humanities, philosophy, history, politics, religion, etc., or better yet to show similarities, connections, and other relationships between two or more disciplines.

In the past, poets have always helped explain the current world and predict and shape the future. Today, with the world changing so quickly, that's more important than ever.

And, by the way, creativity will become more and more important in the future because the last thing machines will be able to do is have new ideas.

Oriana:

I agree that we might profit by asking ourselves, “What else do we know?” Nor should we be content with the first answer that comes to mind, but seek further. Poets should be lifelong learners and explorers.  College programs, no matter how well-designed, are always only a beginning.

**

Una:

I wish I could have heard AZ. I admire his work. He seems to be seeking the same things in poetry as I am, and I think he's correct in saying that intellectual content is lacking. The schools are not pushing the humanities enough.  And not everyone can travel so they have to learn vicariously from books on a wide variety of subjects. I struggle myself to get outside of strictly poetry. As for craft, I think it can be learned, but a poet has to have an ear to the universe to write and something I call heart.

Oriana:

I think you are absolutely right about the ear and the heart (I love your “ear to the universe” -- also note the ear in heart; there is an ear in the heart of heart!).  Intellectual content is certainly not enough. In fact it may be less important than the intensity of feeling.  

On the other hand, I remember showing a literary magazine to my mother; she asked, “How come there are no ideas in these poems?” There is, I suppose, a balance, so that the poems should not appear to be devoid of mind, of insight that governs the details.

**

Bill Mohr:

If I had been there, I would have asked AZ to quote (or very, very closely paraphrase) at least six lines of poetry by Brecht. I doubt he would have been able to. My poetics are with Brecht, who loathed George. Of course, AZ is exactly the kind of person whose knowledge of American poetry I find laughable. He frames the MFA programs as the cynosure of post-World War II American poetry. What an ignorant lout.


Oriana:

Thanks for a provocative response!!

AZ dislikes George's poetry too. It's possible that he'd be able to quote something by Brecht, since he studied in Germany and seems acquainted with German literature. His knowledge of contemporary American poetry, however, has indeed been questioned by some reviewers.

Twentieth-century American poetry has shown a lot of variety and richness. However, many have expressed some anxiety about the newest trends -- and these may be more influenced by MFA programs than poetry that came into being before the MFA industry exploded.

But at this point let me remind the reader that Zagajewski credits the MFA programs with "beautifully defending the reading habits, which are threatened by the modern media.” He doesn't want to get rid of these programs, only suggests that their typical curriculum is absurd, and the sole emphasis on craft bespeaks a certain intellectual impoverishment and lack of a larger vision.

Bill Mohr:

Yeah, but my point is that he thinks he’s providing some extraordinarily perspicacious insight. The small press movement has regarded the typical MFA curriculum as absurd from the moment that these programs began to flourish in the early 1980s. What a pompous intellectual. When my book on the history of Los Angeles poetry comes out in a year or so, he should be locked in a room and forced to stay there until he reads the whole thing.


Oriana:

The contemporary American poetry scene strikes me as astonishing. The sheer number of poets is staggering, and I don't mean those college students who will stop writing as soon as they graduate (sometimes with an MFA degree), or those senior citizens who take it up as a hobby and it might as well be quilting or genealogy. I mean the top ten percent of those who have been writing for many years: fine poets with a lifetime of experience to draw on. Their cultural range may be limited, but their accomplishment can’t be dismissed either.

Right here in San Diego County we have at least a dozen fine poets, and they aren't done with their development either. No matter how solid their achievement and their regional reputation, they aren't nationally famous and will never be, because the downside of such numbers is that wider recognition becomes extremely difficult.

I am not at all surprised when I hear, about this or that conference, "A number of participants were as good or better than the instructors." Any instructor with a hierarchical set of mind will have trouble teaching a workshop composed mainly of advanced poets.

AZ asked me, with some surprise in his voice, "Why don’t you publish a book? You are ready." He doesn't begin to grasp the dilemma of numbers, i.e., nationwide there are hundreds, possibly even thousands, of poets who are just as ready. Most of them will eventually resign themselves to self-publication. This used to be my Plan B, but at this point it's my Plan A. And I know it won’t “get me anywhere” in terms of fame. That’s just tough luck.

Bill Mohr:

I, too, have “resigned” myself to self-publication during the upcoming decade. The contests are a farce. I put “resigned” in quotation marks, though, because poets need to realize that the university presses that run the hierarchical shell game of poetic fame and fortune have about as much to do with the actual quality of poetry being written right now as any theoretical alignment of record companies with the quality of contemporary popular music. Any post-punk/hip-hop band with an ounce of common sense knows that the model is to produce your own records. Poets really and truly ought to get hip. Self-publication is the only meaningful measure of one’s value as a poet.

Oriana:

One of the most fascinating workshops I ever attended was Jeffrey Levine’s “getting published” workshop at the Ruskin Club in Los Angeles, in April of 2007.  Levine, chief editor of Tupelo Press, said, “Your work is being read by fifteen-year-olds” (meaning the preliminary readers on whose taste your fate depends). His final words were, “I hope you all self-publish.” And now, with e-publishing, it is a whole new game.

**

John Guzlowski:

I'm not sure if I agree with AZ entirely about creative writing students not having a larger "intellectual context."  In my experience, some do and some don't.  I've had creative students who were expert in philosophy, geology, physics, medicine, warfare, history and literature, and could talk about and use their knowledge and understanding within their poems.  One of the best student poems I've ever seen was about Soranus, the founder of gynecology.  The poem talked of love, sorrow, and what it means to suffer.  I couldn't ask for a more intellectually exciting poem.  

I'm sure that AZ has had such students too. Both here and in Poland.

They are the good ones.  There aren't many of them but they are there, and they become the real poets, the ones we want to read.  

The others?  They're just voices disappearing into the wind.

About the conflict between the classroom and the cafe?

I bet it's no different in Poland.  The cafes are probably in the big cities--Warsaw, Krakow, Lublin, AZ's own Lvov.  I wonder if he'd find the cafes he seeks in Jasna Gora or Palewy.

Good piece, Oriana.  I enjoyed reading it and look forward to more of your thoughts about AZ and VSC.

Oriana:

Thanks, John, for an excellent response.

Of course it's similar in Poland if you have the bad luck to be stuck, for any reason, in the village of Mokronosy (“wet noses” – a real name). True, you should walk half a day in a blizzard, if need be, to Poznan's cafés, but we know reality.

The only real difference is that European public education is better, so some advantage comes from this early intellectual grounding. But one could argue that it's also a disadvantage – to know about Plato but to look down on people from Mokronosy.

**

Marjorie:

My own gripe with much of the poetry I read lately has to do with its being terribly clever (i.e., excelling in craft) but being void emotionally.  Often this poetry seems to be about nothing very important.  The deep human element is missing, and thus the poems flex their muscles but don't lift any weight.

Oriana:

It’s interesting that you bring up the “emotional void.” I think good American poetry excels at portraying feeling-charged human situations. Its strength is specifics. And this is where knowing Virgil might not necessarily be an advantage. On the other hand, imagine if Dante did not know Virgil. Dante needed to stand on the shoulders of giants; many American poets are pioneers in exploring intimate, complex human situations. I think Sharon Olds, for instance, is fine within her narrow parameters; she does not need to bring myth or history or religion into her poems. When she tries, she fails. Szymborska, with her philosophical mind, can write a good poem about baby Hitler; Olds is at her best when she writes about her own children, parents, siblings. 


And that’s fine; that teaches us a lot about what it’s like to be human. One strength of good American poetry is its psychological explorations. And if the essential task of poetry is to comment on life, on human experience, then having  had the right kind of life experiences is more important than erudition. The same goes for psychological insight. (I'm thinking of one poet I met at VSC, Curtis Bauer: his poems continue to haunt me. I admire and enjoy Zagajewski's poems, but I have to confess that they don't haunt me.)

Another strength of American poetry  is being very specific and imagistic – an in-depth exploration of an image or a “narrow slice” of a narrative. To me, craft is not about villanelles. Real craft has a lot more to do with mastering the language of images, of writing “cinematically” rather than conceptually. And that’s where MFA programs have not altogether failed, even if “show, don’t tell” sounds so simple. It sounds simple, but doing it well is actually quite difficult.

**
Myshkin:

Regarding this piece on Zagajewski's anti-craft manifesto--I love it!!!!!  I think you convey his thoughts clearly and with rigor and enthusiasm and I also agree totally with his points.  I've never been able to state it so persuasively, but this is exactly what I find lacking, not only within MFA programs but also within the American poetry world in general.  

My only suggestion--if you were to expand this--would be to include more of yourself, your experience, and your reactions--how for instance, that Catholic education and growing up at least in the shadow of the Sartrean cafe world has shaped your sense of writing.  (This is not to suggest that I think the café world in Warsaw or Krakow or Gdansk would be any less serious and profound that Paris or Zurich or Berlin.)

I wonder how his audience responded, because in a sense, he was indicting Americans and American art. 

Oriana:

The audience ate it up. No one spoke in defense of MFA’s.  The programs were seen as good money-makers for universities, and that’s why they proliferated – not because they produce good poets.  There has been endless criticism of the MFA industry in this country, though not quite from the point of view of lack of intellectual content.

It’s only now that I see some points in favor of such programs, or creative writing classes in general. No, they don’t generally educate you in terms of expanding and enriching your mentality – but they can be helpful in terms of mastering the language of images. A preachy tone is discouraged, along with vague generalizing.

I think the closest I came to being influenced by Polish poetry was through my translations.  And immediately I had a longing for combining the best of American poetry with the wider vision of the best of European poetry. Seeing that AZ’s poems, especially the recent ones, have been influenced by the contemporary American tradition of the lyrical personal narrative, shows me that an intermingling of influences would be best.

Just what exactly poets should study in order to enrich their mentalities would probably call for an individualized curriculum, custom-tailored both to each student’s interests and also areas where s/he might need to catch up on general knowledge. Again, though, that would just be a start of lifelong learning.


Lilith:


Your blog on the AZ lecture is superb!  Thank you so much for posting it, and for bringing the lecture back from VT to share with your community here. There is so much stimulation in the blog, all the back and forth, etc..  I am so inspired by Stefan George's hair....and that amazing profile!


Oriana:

I love it that you comment on George's hair! I've noticed that charismatic male leaders tend to have lots of hair, or at least good hair with "body." I suspect that sex appeal is part of charisma – in general. But there can be also something else, maybe those traits of appearance that we call “distinctive” and “commanding.” In photographs taken toward the end of his life, George looks gaunt, thin-lipped, and sneering. I couldn't help thinking that he’d make the perfect Dracula. Ernst Bertram, one of the poets who knew George, revealed that his first thought on meeting him was, “A werewolf!”

Here is Bertram’s revealing poem.

PORTRAIT OF A MASTER

The eyes – narrow and only when they rule, wide –
Were illuminated from behind as if by candles.
The pain of some old cruelty
Etched in his cheeks.

His face fell steeply down from his dark hair
As if in princely terraces
Down to his chin, which only concealed
And was full of violence – that was deadly in hate.

Around the immobile lips there was the trace
Of conquered temptation,
And gravely his brow carried
The noble curse like a chosen jewel.

   ~ Ernst Betram, translated by Robert E. Norton

As for that "old cruelty," perhaps it was insufficient mothering. George's mother was a devout  Catholic, possibly a frustrated nun at heart. She was emotionally distant. The children were not allowed to kiss her. None of the three children got married. 

George was gay, though he seems to have abstained from obvious affairs, and in fact praised celibacy. He was appalled when the Nazis seized on the hero-worship aspect of his "secret Germany," and moved to Switzerland. It's fascinating that this man, regarded by some critics as a "proto-fascist," with his praise of individual nobility and excellence, indirectly inspired anti-Nazi resistance. 


For me the personal significance of "secret Germany" is only the inspiration to think of the "secret America." The term electrifies me. I used to think of the "other America," or even "my America" -- but that doesn't carry the delight of "secret." It's all those subcultural aspects of America that I can love -- people who are non-consumerist, spiritual but non-religious, serious about important values, eager for knowledge and all things of the mind. Not a coherent, organized cultural group, to be sure, but a way for me to be able to think of some aspect of this undefinable entity, America, with affection.


As for George's fame, maybe eventually he will be remembered mainly as a fine translator, particularly of Baudelaire's Flowers of Evil. His own work shows the influence of Baudelaire -- hence some similarity to Rilke's New Poems. 

**




Lenny Lianne:

AZ's criticism about teaching craft rather than poetry students knowing another subject (history, science, etc.) is the same criticism as levelled against those getting education degrees rather than degrees in a subject they'll teach.  While I agree with the criticism of education degrees, esp. for middle-school teachers and beyond, I'm not so harsh on teaching the craft of poetry (esp. when it is so different from speech and prose).  I do think that poets who write about subjects other than themselves are more interesting in general.  I also wish more poets had a working knowledge of Greek mythology.  BUT I believe in research ( and it's easy with the Internet).  One has to want to expand one's grasp beyond the personal.  (For me, I love doing research -- sometimes more than the actual writing -- but that's me.  Ah, the thrill of finding the fascinating factoid!)

Oriana:

I went through a period of writing a lot of myth poems and persona poems, and I too loved the research part best. Now I am actually more drawn to insightful personal narratives, e.g. Stephen Dunn. For myth and biography, I prefer to google and/or read good non-fiction.

When it comes to what should be taught in MFA programs, I think an in-depth examination of a great poet's body of work -- let's say Rilke or Wallace Stevens – would make sense. Maybe a class on mythology . . .  but does it really matter that much? As you point out, research into any subject has become much easier now. Real poets will keep educating themselves throughout their lives. 

In summary: I think Zagajewski has a point in saying that American poets are not sufficiently grounded in the intellectual tradition or any specific area of knowledge. Where I defend the teaching of craft is not exercises in how to write sonnet, the sestina, and so on. Nor is it a tragedy if a student confuses metonymy with synecdoche, or grows blank when asked about the meaning of “litotes.” I agree that this kind of teaching of “craft” is pretty meaningless.

Having said this, I think there is a place for the teaching of craft, by which I mean how to write specifically and imagistically.  Images have a significant emotional power, especially if threaded on even a wisp of a narrative. Much as I hate a typical fault-finding critique workshop, the pressure to be more imagistic has generally been a good thing. Another benefit I have derived is seeing the advantage of taking a “narrow slice,” and exploring it in depth. I apologize for repeating myself, but I think that Zagajewski never really defined “craft,” and that craft in the true sense is immensely deep and also takes lifelong learning.

A new factor, not yet explored, is the way poets are beginning to connect via the Internet. Living in New York or Boston is still an advantage, but a poet in Wyoming is no longer doomed to isolation – nor does s/he have to enroll in an MFA program. 

The crucial process is development. This means both intellectual and artistic development, but also development as a human being. I think that as writers we are participating in a great personal as well as collective adventure.

And, as it often happens, the surprise benefit: learning about the “secret Germany,” which made me wonder about “secret America” (non-consumerist, interested in the life of the mind), and even “secret poetry” (non-academic, intimate, psychological, connected with both nature and everyday life).


**


Added later, from my more personal notes:



After being introduced, he began by saying, “My name is Adam Zagajewski. That’s ZagaYEVski, not ZagaJEWski.” His tone was not jocular. He never smiled once, and there was a stiffness even about his voice with its harsh r’s as he proceeded to state that this is going to be an “anti-craft lecture.” His message was already familiar to me from his essays and interviews in which he voiced the same complaint: young American poets did not seem acquainted with philosophy, history, and so forth. They tended to write about the members of their immediate family, not about what might be called the larger world. 


As I mentioned, for me the interesting part started when AZ began to speak about Stefan George. The idea of “Secret Germany” immediately fascinated me. It was only later, back home, when I started reading a biography of George that I discovered a fascist in full bloom -- not in the rather foolish style of Ezra Pound, but, to my horror, a powerful literary figure who extolled the values later adopted by the Nazis. George rejected the Nazis, but for a peculiar reason: he saw the German National Socialism as a “plebeian movement,” while he was interested in aristocracy.


Was AZ aware of George’s views on racial purity and the like? Since he stated he was reading George’s biography, I assume he must have been. AZ presented him as a charismatic, politically influential poet, rather than as an utterly distasteful figure, and not a very good poet at that. AZ did say, twice, that he did not like George’s poems. But he did not mention George’s statements (quoted in the book) such as, “Jews are the best conductors. They are good at spreading and implementing values. To be sure, they do not experience life as deeply as we do.” While this is a more sophisticated kind of anti-Semitism, it strikes me as more pernicious.

During the lecture I got the impression that George was being presented as a role model of an “engaged” poet. Once I learned more about George, I began to wonder about AZ’s choice, and AZ’s saying, “I am going to speak about George because you know nothing about him, and because I happen to be reading his biography.” There was a capriciousness to that statement that could be read as disdain for the audience. (By the way, I am not implying any degree of anti-Semitism on the part of AZ; in fact in one of his essays he unequivocally condemns it. I am merely puzzled by the choice of George, a proto-Nazi, for this lecture.)


Now I see yet another reason why AZ might feel attracted to a figure like Stefan George: George's aloofness. It would not surprise me if George had Asperger's Syndrome. 

It could be argued that the lecture as a whole implied that American poets are an ignorant lot, and what they learn in MFA programs is how to write villanelles and sestinas. During the discussion, no one protested, no one disagreed. In fact, the listeners enthusiastically agreed. I said only, “In this country, and at this point in the culture, it’s not possible for anyone to be like Yeats.” I should have explained that only poets read poetry, and the possibility of a larger cultural dialogue is feeble at best. But surely AZ already knew that, after 18 years of teaching at the University of Houston and no doubt talking to many American poets.

Actually I was hoping for a real craft lecture, so I ended up disappointed. The more I ponder the matter, the more I want writing classes to teach craft, but craft as I understand it: for instance, the use of imaginative rather than discursive language, taking a “narrow slice” when writing a narrative, clinging to the concrete rather than the abstract, or knowing how to begin in medias res.

As for the problem of content and greater cultural range, there might indeed be some point in requiring classes in the humanities: comparative religion, say, or world literature or music. The program would probably be different depending on each student’s interests and also areas of the most profound ignorance (for a lot of students, that area would be world history). 

Later, a Polish-American poet and translator with whom I had an email exchange about AZ was wondering if anyone asked AZ if he followed the principles he was promoting in his own poetic practice. Alas, no one did. Poets and writers, including me, seemed to regard him with awe. He was the star. No one questioned anything he said.