Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts

Sunday, July 31, 2016

Yehuda Amichai: Stages of Life

           Yehuda Amichai’s work is filled with sentiments and ideas that appeal to a wide range of people. His work, “God Has Pity on Kindergarten Children,” is no exception. Within the multilayered work he references the stages of life, their relative ease/difficulty, as well as the religious and secular tones that go along with those stages of life. He also cleverly uses punctuation to help further convey the point of his utterances.

            The stages of life referenced in the work are childhood, the adolescent period, and adulthood. Each of these stages has its own level of pity from God. In childhood God has the most pity. This can be taken literally, for those of a religious disposition, or metaphorically. If taken as the latter childhood represent a naïve time of existence. Everything under the sun is new, exciting, and stimulating. The body grows stronger every day and one’s capacity to learn appears to be limitless. Children have a chance to craft their own destiny and only an act of God can stop them. It’s important to note that the line corresponding with this sentiment ends in a hard stop. Using such punctuation makes it appear as a cold hard fact. As we will see later this is not the case for all stages. It also depicts that Childhood has a defined beginning and endpoint. This endpoint leads into the next stage, adolescence.

            The second stage is adolescence. This too ends in a hard stop signifying a fact and a determined period of time. But, it is also a bit less optimistic about the chance of pity from God. The text states, “He has less pity on schoolchildren” (Amichai ln. 2). This is in part due to the nature of humankind. As we grow older we advance in thought and in body. The world isn’t as fresh as it once was and our fascination with God’s creation begins to take on a jaded hue. The hearts and minds of people are introduced to some of the cold truths of existence and the world no longer seems the perfect place it did when one was a child. The end of this line leads into the brutal realities of adulthood.

            Finally the subject of adulthood it broached. The lines here become longer, adding more information and insight into God having no pity on adults. The hard stop gives way to commas allowing the journey to continue on with only brief respites from the difficulty to be faced in the adult world. Although there is much horror in the world there still remains a glimmer of hope. When referencing this brief times of relief (primarily through love or by reaching old age) there is a lack of stops signifying the fleeting nature of such experience. It also shows how time will continue on like a stone rolling down a steep hill.

            Finally, Amichai’s speaker notes that the power for compassion resides in all of us. He uses only one soft stop in the final stanza giving the reader a moment to pause before the grand message of the poem is laid out. That message is that even if God shows no pity we still harbor the ability to show compassion toward one another through all stages of life.

Works Cited


Amichai, Yehuda. “God Has Pity on Kindergarten Children”. The Norton Anthology of World        Literature: Shorter Third Edition, Two- Volume Set. W.W. Norton. Ed. M Puchner. 2012. 1620-1621. Print.

Sunday, July 3, 2016

Martí and Darío : A Hypthetical Trip to the Pub with Walt Whitman

In order to fully demonstrate the commonalities of authors and thinkers it can, often enough, be useful to create a hypothetical situation in which authors, separated by time and/or space, meet and converse. Stepping into the great expansive realm of hypothetical we witness Walt Whitman, José Martí and Rubén Darío walk into a pub.

 What do they talk about? Is it the mob of people shouting and shifting among the smoky air? Is their topic of debate the well-endowed scandalous looking woman at the end of the bar in the revealing red dress? The lonely bar fly who never became a bride? The foul-smelling homeless man with one shoe sleeping in the dirt and muck around the corner? In all likelihood their topics would be concentrated on how to best portray the sorrows, the pain, the joy, and the bond between all of these people—and by extension all those who collectively makeup humankind. Sitting around a tall table on wobbly wooden stools perhaps they would each share a piece or two of their own works showing how even in poetry they are connected by this human bond.  

            Being the legend that he is Walt Whitman would undoubtedly go first in performing a line or two from “Song of Myself.” First, after taking a large gulp from his tall hoppy pint, he’d proclaim, “I pass with the dying and birth with the new-washed babe, and am not contained between my hat and boots [!]” (Whitman ch. 7 ln. 3-4). Those within earshot would nod their head in approval; a man is not all that he appears to be on the outside. Whitman, standing up from his stool, would proclaim his stance among the natural world or compare himself with the animals which live so happily without the social conventions humankind uses to espouse their woes. Speaking on their behalf he’d shout above the crowd yelling, “They do not sweat and whine about their condition,/ They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,/ They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God” (Whitman Ch.32 lns.4-6). Turning to the natural world to show how the capability for bliss and peace is always around humankind, but nevertheless is difficult to find inside the canister of the human body. At this point all three would clink their glasses together, all three sharing the sentiment of humankind yearning for the natural state in which they were derived. After returning to their stool José Martí would raise his glass signaling it was time for him to take his turn in the discussion.

            Standing tall, and tipping his well-worn hat to Whitman, he would recite some lines from “I am an Honest Man”,

In the mountains, I am a mountain.
I know the strange names
Of the herbs and the flowers
And of mortal deceits
And of sublime pains. (Martí lns. 8-12)

Whitman seeing the natural imagery connecting to his own work would slap him on the back and tease him hinting about plagiarism. Martí would share his two cents about how all things are connected and that among humans he, and all others, are humans—whether black, brown, white, or purple—all belong to the great human experience.

Afterward, finding himself preaching to the choir, Martí would take his seat. A dark grey mood brought on by spirits would overcome them. Leaning in close they’d begin talks of life, love, and deceit. Another topic would float through their conversations. The conversation of death, in one form or another, and the ways in which humankind continues on even in the face of great adversity. As the ruckus of the pub rages on Martí would whisper,

I have seen a man live
With his dagger at his side,
Without ever saying the name
Of she who had killed him. (Martí lns. 21-24)

He’d talk more about when he had seen his soul counting one of two times being when “she said good-bye to [him]” and an ominous silence would spread across the table (Martí ln.27). Rubén Darío, seeing that the creative energies of his comrades slowly being spent for the evening, would then stand, pour some of his drink to the floor and begin his own speech.

            Knowing that each of them is well aware of the shared burden of human life he’d speak without great pomp reciting from his work “Fatality.” He would say,

The tree is happy because it is scarcely sentient;
The rock is happier still, it feels nothing:
There is no pain as great as being alive,
No burden heavier than that of conscious life. (Darío lns. 1-4).

They three would sit for a quiet moment reflecting on this heavy load they must carry throughout life. Whitman would consider the power of life and the freedom offered but not always taken. Martí would consider the potent emotions conjured across the span of a lifetime. Darío would consider how we are all bound across nations and times in the great drama of human life. Together they’d sip on their beer in silence. Their table an isolated gossamer bubble among the hustle and bustle of the pub.


            Each nearly reaching their peak thinking, the moment before self-realization, until Walt Whitman would stand up from his stool and flip over the table sending the empty bottles and glasses crashing to the floor. The pub would become as quiet as a cemetery on a foggy night until Whitman, with an animalistic look on his face, shouted, “I too am not a bit tamed, I too an untranslatable,/ I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world[!]” (Whitman ch. 52 lns. 3-4). After which they’d be thrown out of the pub and, after a few slaps on the back and their half-hearted drunken goodbyes, return once more to their private lives contemplating the human condition’s interweaving relationship with the natural world in which it resides. 

Works Cited

Darío, Rubén. “Fatality”. The Norton Anthology of World Literature: Shorter Third            Edition, Two- Volume Set. W.W. Norton. Ed. M Puchner. 2012. 695. Print.

Martí, José. “I am an Honest Man”. The Norton Anthology of World Literature: Shorter Third        Edition, Two- Volume Set. W.W. Norton. Ed. M Puchner. 2012. 681. Print.

Whitman, Walt. Song of Myself. The Norton Anthology of World Literature: Shorter Third Edition, Two- Volume Set. W.W. Norton. Ed. M Puchner. 2012. 648-653. Print.

Friday, May 20, 2016

Classic of Poetry

The umbrella term “education” has taken on many shapes and sizes throughout recorded history. I hasn’t always been long lines of uncomfortable desks with plastic chairs made in the pits of hell. There have been, and continue to be places, where education has been carried on through oral traditions. In fact a majority of historical education has been purely through cultural modes of conveyance; for example poetry. In classic Chinese poetry all one needed to know, or so they said, was written among the lines of eloquently composed poems. There are poems helping to incite social order, those displaying traditional familial roles, others giving a sense of historicity to a powerful group of people and even the structure of the poems themselves helped aspiring poets and readers (both past and present) to bathe in their unique construction and elegant styles. Education, for an untold amount of souls, was to be found in the Classic of Poetry.

Many of the original author’s names have been lost to history and a great number of works have been honorably attributed to Confucius. As stated in the Norton Anthology of World Literature, “Confucius believed that political order depended on the ability of individuals in society to cultivate their moral virtue and thus contribute to social order” (“Classic of Poetry” 756). Throughout many of the works varying cultural niches are displayed giving all facets of society routes in which to help the society in which they live. This use of “feng” allows poetry to sway the opinions of those who are the poem’s audience (757). One such cultural norm displayed throughout many works is the role of a young woman.

One example can be found in “VI. Peach Tree Soft and Tender,” in which a young woman goes from being a blooming bride to a mother and progenitor of future generations. The initial stanza uses the images associated with springtime blossoms and a beauty that is fresh and fertile. This is followed by a tree beginning to bear fruit (an allusion to children) and finally “[her] leaves begin to spread thick and full” (“Peach Tree Soft and Tender” 760). In the final stanza we see her family tree branching further and further out into the future. The values shown here are that women were needed and expected to be the “soft and supple” peach tree of familial life; as they married, made and raised babies, they honor their home and family (760). By first blooming, then bearing fruit, then being the strong tree holding up the rest of the family a woman was capable of fulfilling her role in the family and in the world.

Other types of moral lessons can be found in “CCXLV. She Bore the Folk” in which we are able to see the birth of a tradition, the inherent goodness of hard work, and the roles of men and women through the birth and life of Lord Millet. It’s important to note that this work is also closely tied to the ancestry of the Zhou clan which also helps to create a social cohesion of sorts (758).  The use of rhetorical devices is imperative in legend establishing longer works such as “She Bore the Folk”.

The works created their own styles effectively using a certain style of rhetoric in order to create cultural adherence to acceptable values and ideas; one important mechanism was enumeration. “Enumeration [is] the telling of sequences of events in a straight forward narrative fashion” (758). By utilizing rhetorical tools such as this authors and readers could mimic or expound upon standards already set. Although not everyone was capable of reading these works there was still a large significance to their oral power as well.

These poems have lived on for over 1300 years and have influenced common people and prolific poets since their creation, Ezra Pound being one of the most notable in contemporary times. These works, some now nearing their 3000th birthday, are still alive both in their native land and all across the globe; a true testament to their skill and ability to give some insight into the past and the human condition.

Works Cited:   

Puchner, Martin Et. Al.. “Classic of Poetry” The Norton Anthology of World Literature: Shorter Third Edition. Two-Volume Set. W.W. Norton. Ed. M Puchner. 2013. 756-766. Print.       

“VI. Peach Tree Soft and Tender”. Classic of Poetry. The Norton Anthology of World Literature: Shorter Third Edition. Two-Volume Set. W.W. Norton. Ed. M Puchner. 2013. 760. Print.  
   

“CCXLV. She Bore the Folk”. Classic of Poetry. The Norton Anthology of World Literature: Shorter Third Edition. Two-Volume Set. W.W. Norton. Ed. M Puchner. 2013. 756-766. Print.