Edmund Wilson in Axel?s Castle credits Mallarme with founding the Symbolist movement, and Mallarme?s inspiration was Poe. He was so impressed with Poe that he translated him and introduced him to Europe. ??Mallarme had the pride of the inner life,? said one of his friends; his nature was ?patient, disdainful and imperiously gentle.? He always reflected before he spoke and always put what he said in the form of a question. His wife sat beside him embroidering; his daughter answered the door. Here came Huysmans, Whistler, Degas, Moreas, Laforgue, Viele-Griffin, Paul Valery, Henri De Regnier, Pierre Louys, Paul Claudel, Remmy de Gourmont, Andre Gide, Oscar Wilde, Arthur Symons, George Moore and W. B. Yeats. For Mallarme was a true saint of literature: he had proposed to himself an almost impossible object, and he pursued it without compromise or distraction. His whole life was dedicated to the effort to do something with the language of poetry which had never been done before. . . He was, as Albert Thibaudet has said, engaged in ?a disinterested experiment on the confines of poetry, at a limit where other lungs would find the air unbreathable. ?What, then, was this purer sense which Mallarme believed he was following Poe in wishing to give to the words of the tribe? What, precisely, was the nature of this experiment on the confines of poetry which Mallarme found so absorbing and which so many other writers tried to repeat? What, precisely, did the Symbolists purpose? I have called attention, in speaking of Poe, to the confusion between the perceptions of the different senses, and to the attempt to make the effects of poetry approximate to those of music. And I should add, in this latter connection, that the influence on Symbolist poetry of Wagner was as important as that of any poet: at the time when Romantic music had come closest to literature, literature was attracted toward music. I have also spoken, in connection with Gerard de Nerval, of the confusion between the imaginary and the real, between our sensations and fancies, on the one hand, and what we actually do and see, on the other. It was the tendency of Symbolism -- that second swing of the pendulum away from a mechanistic view of nature and from a social conception of man -- to make poetry even more a matter of sensations and emotions of the individual than had been the case with Romanticism: Symbolism, indeed, sometimes had the result of making poetry so much a private concern of the poet?s that it turned out to be incommunicable to the reader . . . the symbolism of the Divine Comedy is conventional, logical and definite. But the symbols of the Symbolist school are usually chosen arbitrarily by the poet to stand for special ideas of his own -- that are a sort of disguise for these ideas. ?The Parnassians, for their part,? wrote Mallarme, ?take the thing just as it is and put it before us -- and consequently they are deficient in mystery: they deprive the mind of the delicious joy of believing that it is creating. To name an object is to do away with the three-quarters of the enjoyment of the poem which is derived from the satisfaction of guessing little by little: to suggest it, to evoke it -- that is what charms the imagination.? ?To intimate things rather than state them plainly was thus one of the primary aims of the Symbolists. But there was more involved in their point of view than Mallarme here explains. . . .? -----Original Message----- From: Steve Chilson Sent: Friday, October 13, 2006 10:24 AM <cut> The point about Mallarmé was unfortunately lost in my own inability to remember clearly the precise terminology he used to describe his poetic theory when in truth, the first thing that came to mind from the original post I'd commented on was the expression "eyeball kicks" which is the term Ginsberg coined to describe words juxtaposed against one another that seemingly make no sense when paired in the every day context yet when reaching for that nonsensical/reality sense, did. "Hydrogen jukebox" comes to mind, for example. If I remember correctly, the idea of stealing the meaning of particular words by putting them beside other words that seemingly didn't go together was to lend new meanings to both and not be shackled by the everyday meanings of such words. Not to make them incomprehensible but to shave a new layer of meaning using the same auld whiskers. I don't imagine this happens very often in classical music but it certainly does in jazz. Maybe that's why I appreciate the one better than the other...