I fear that the notion of "mean" (means, meaning, & its ilk) may be
the bobbin in a spiralwise form of motion.... what that means, yo'd have to
ask to those who think that expressions depend on propositional forms,
I am not one of them, particularly in this joint of time
On Sat, Jun 16, 2018 at 7:10 PM, carol kirschenbaum <carolkir@xxxxxxxxx>
Oooh! Marvelous drawing. Thank you. I’m pretty sure I still don’t know
what “perne in a gyre” means, in the poem, since both words relate to
“bobbin” and connote weaving. Makes me dizzy…
On Jun 16, 2018, at 12:34 PM, adriano paolo shaul gershom palma <
spin of a bobbin, perne in a gaelic/franco/irish word which the english
translate as bobin
On Sat, Jun 16, 2018 at 11:24 AM, carol kirschenbaum <carolkir@xxxxxxxxx>
Oops. “PERNE” in a gyre.
Whatever that means…
On Jun 15, 2018, at 9:15 PM, Lawrence Helm <lawrencehelm@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
Anthropologists tell us that the first artefacts that conclusively tell
us that the creator or creators were “like us” were the cave paintings,
those paintings described in this article for example:
It seems unlikely that everyone at the time these cave paintings were
created would have seen their value. I don’t recall any anthropologists
commenting on the cave-painters’ contemporaries, but I’m assuming there
were such people, people who did not have the ability to think abstractly,
to substitute one thing for another. I wonder what they thought when they
looked at him (or her) painting. Some perhaps were impressed. Some
perhaps were not.
At what point and why did we become us? Some anthropologists are now
theorizing that we owe our ability to speak to the Neanderthal – some
genetic material we picked up during some interbreeding – that enhanced our
ability to create complex sounds – words which are for the most part
abstract (sounds standing for things), but beyond that sentences.
Anthropologists have no way of knowing when our ancestors began talking
to each other in sentences, or even when they developed a fondness for
poetry. But in pre-literate cultures we know that they told stories and
sang songs around campfires to rehearse their histories, great battles,
famous ancestors, etc.
The earliest poems that have come down to us are closer to what we
imagine to be those camp-fire stories. They were popular narratives,
usually involving rhyme, because rhyme is a memory enhancer as is song.
A modern-day detractor might at this point say that if poets still did
that, did what they did around campfires, told stories that had “clear . .
. arguments . . . open to standard assessments of logical validity and
soundness” then they would have no objection to poetry.
There is no question about modern poetry being more abstract than early
poetic forms. And yet, when our first ancestor capable of abstract
thought first painted in his caves, there should be little doubt that there
would have been nay-sayers who would have objected that these paintings
were “neither clear nor open to standard assessments of logical validity
and soundness” – or whatever equivalent statements these naysayers were
capable making back then.
In regard to modern poetry, most critics are people who cannot themselves
write, and one of them, Trilling perhaps, wrote that critics often forget
that the poem precedes the criticism. The critic does not get to say,
“this is what a poem ought to do, say, or be.” The poem, like a painting,
or a piece of music is an abstract creation. To say that any abstract
creation is subject to a standard assessment would be like those who stood
in the cave watching the first person who was “like us” painting. They
didn’t understand what he was doing, but they felt free to criticize him
On 2018-06-14 00:19, Robert Paul wrote:
This is the fourth—and last—stanza of _Sailing to Byzantium._
Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.
Robert Paul, Lake Oswego OR