Reading prompts for the class of November 15
Comment on whichever you like (or on something besides :))
1. Provide an analysis / interpretation of Marianne Moore's "A Jelly-Fish" or Adrienne Rich's "Shattered Head".
2. Consider this short poem by Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen:
CORAL
It came and went
Asking each thing
Asking each thing
What their name meant
or, in Portuguese: "Ia e vinha / Perguntando a cada coisa / Que nome tinha"
and relate the lines with either "A Grave" (by Moore) or "The Sea is History" (by Walcott) and their efforts towards looking at names, actions and beings through different angles/directions.
3. In which ways do these poems explore marginal / submerged forms (think of the "awakened dead2 in Adrienne Rich's essay) and how can there relate to a more ecologic deployment of language (or of environmental justice)?
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Delete2- "A Grave", Marianne Moore
ReplyDeleteIn Sophia de Mello Breyner Andersen’s poem, one could imagine the waves coming and going on the shore. The sea is, in this very short poem, portrayed as wanting to know the names of things. In Marianne Moore’s “A Grave”, the poetic voice states that “the sea is a collector, quick to return a rapacious/ look.” This collector of things is, furthermore, uncontrollable by human hands and knows its inhabitants.
“The wrinkles progress among themselves in a
phalanx - beautiful under networks of foam,
and fade brethlessly while the sea rustles in and out
of the seaweed;”
Both poems share the similarity of portraying the ocean’s waves reciprocating movement. In Andersen’s poem, this is the main characteristic of the sea, which one only knows is its' given the poem’s title - CORAL, which gets one's mind to think of the ocean. There is not much else said besides its movement and its quest of knowing the names of “things”. The requirement of having a name for “things” or critters is further explored in Moore’s poem. All of the fish species names’, the birds, and other aquatic beings mentioned have surrendered to the oceans movement, and continue to do what they usually do while “the sea rustles in and out/ of the seaweed;” This is a careless movement, unaware of wills, neither of the things’ it collects, nor of itself. It simply exists and acts according to its inherent task, of twisting and turning and coming and going.
“and the ocean, under the pulsation of lighthouses/ and noise of bellbuoys,/ avances as usual, looking as if it were not that/ ocean in which dropped things are bound to sink/in which if they turn and twist, it is neither with/ volition nor consciousness.”
In both poems, the ocean is regarded by someone, a human supposedly. “A Grave”’s first lines are precisely:
“Man looking into the sea,/ taking the view from those who have as much right to it as you have to yourself,/it is human nature to stand in the middle of a thing;”, and in Andersen’s poem, it seems implied an outsider is looking at the ocean performing its back and forth motion, but it could also be the coral looking at the motion, it does not seem possible to know for certain. Thus, despite the difference in the compositions’ sizes, they share more similarities than what could be expected between different sized poems regarding the ocean, from women of different nationalities and realities.
2) The poem ‘Coral’ by Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen’s employs a simple yet evocative language to explore the complex theme of essence and identity. The poem’s lines, “It came and went / Asking each thing / What their name meant,” exemplify this simplicity while encapsulating a profound depth of meaning. The movement of this ‘it’ - the sea or the spirit in the sea - is characterized by a curiosity of what everything really is. Each ‘name’ is characterized by a curiosity about the true nature of reality. Each ‘name’ represents a different kind of mystery, open to interpretations that go beyond the surface – like the sea is inviting one being to think about what lies behind them. Each ‘thing’ becomes a puzzle, as if just calling it by the name is enough to set free the worlds within.
ReplyDeleteThe opening lines of Walcott’s poem, “Where are your monuments, your battles, your martyrs?” is imbued with a sense of urgency and impatience, as if directed towards the sea, which is seen as a repository of what is left behind. To him, the sea is a grave, both literal and figurative; a place where time is ‘frozen’ within the layers of history - a dove-gray chamber filled with forgotten tales. Both Wallcott’s ‘chamber’ and Andresen’s ‘coral’ serve to conceal and reveal. The names, deeds and life forms that are submerged at the bottom are visible only to those who are bold enough to look. While Walcott’s sea serves to preserve the memories of the people, pain, and loss, Andresen’s ‘coral’ calls upon each and every object to demonstrate its distinctive characteristics. In both poems, the sea becomes a place where the names do not fit, the histories are buried, and the understanding is reserved for those who are attentive to and observant. Collectively, these poems imply that history is not merely a matter of remembrance; it also encompasses the absence of words that can be easily articulated. This absence is quietly nurtured in the margins, awaiting an inquiry such as, “What is the meaning of your name?”
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ReplyDelete1- Rich’s poetry recalls us to our senses by drawing us to a sensory experience to confront the unspeakable through vivid descriptions of the mort-ed. The image of a shattered head evokes a sense of violence, trauma, and disintegration, with the poem bearing witness to suffering and decay (both cultural/universal and physical). It could be stated that Rich highlights the psychological damage inflicted on women by a culture that devalues and objectifies them by using this metaphor.
ReplyDeleteIt starts with the description of a difficult life, perhaps full of struggle and perseverance. Harsh and at the same time warm natural imagery sets the mysterious scene. Nature is not fully grasped or categorized as something to be dominated. Nor is it fetishized as wild-nature just like the early nature-writers did. An insisting “When?” implies an impending end, and it contradicts with the following idea of time through ‘but.’ This may point to the losing track of time that is also wounded. This “foreclosure” on beauty, which is separated or interrupted, suggests that a certain form of harmony, or perhaps life itself, is being shut down. Besides, the “soothseekers” and their desperate “When?” may be suggesting a cultural or existential crisis, a moment of reckoning. The repetition of ‘bloodshot,’ a powerful and violent image, reinforces the image of suffering. The “mind finding itself unspeakable” – which reminds me of Spivak’s Can The Subaltern Speak? - indicates a psyche overwhelmed by the weight of incomprehensible experience. The lines with the question marks at the end are really ambiguous with their epistemological hints and their relation to power (“let you know”). Does “the last thought” belong to the “bloodshot mind” or humanity in general? Then we have the dislocated, scientifically-put names of the body parts in parenthesis that invoke a feeling of alienation and detachment. This graphic depiction of bodily fragments represents not only the disintegration of the individual but also perhaps that of humanity’s connection to its environment. It may also be serving as a reminder of the fragility of life, stripping away romantic notions of mortality. By using visceral images like “porridge of skull-splinters” and “cranial fluid,” Rich mirrors the natural world’s rawness and vulnerability, breaking down any artificial boundary between human and environmental suffering.
With the second stanza, the remains of the human (woman) is merged with the landscape. The natural process of decay has already started, which reminds the notion of compost by Haraway. Then the decay becomes a part of the ecology again, by turning into a root although the implications of the word “torque” involve a resistance, maybe a sense of survival. Nature reclaims the body through decomposition, but the word “blasted” implies violence in the body’s destruction and resituatedness in nature. The repeated use of “revenge” embodies feminist signs. The “mouth packed with inarticulate confessions” suggests that there are silenced truths buried within this body, things left unsaid or repressed. Then, we see that even senses carry history but now they are also buried, and the brutal conditions on women seem to continue, so as the revenge.
With the appearance of “You” in the fourth stanza, the addressee changes and in this way the speaker invites readers to reflect on the natural landscapes that are formed by countless lives lost and returned to the earth. The “soothseekers” who once searched for answers have “withdrawn.” It implies they have lamented and accepted what it is. (It may also refer to the redemptive effects of writing.) Instead of a ghostly presence, there is only a “sporic chorus,” the quiet hum of life persisting in the aftermath, suggesting continuity rather than a haunting. When the mourning is over, we ask for peace after cycles of violence. The personified landscape may be also reclaiming that some rest from its role in absorbing human suffering and remnants. The “shattered head” itself speaks, lamenting its experience of love and loss. The question “Who did this to us?” implies a shared suffering, as if the destruction is not an isolated incident but part of a larger, collective trauma inflicted upon both humans and nature.
DeleteThe poem embodies a marginalized form by bringing the suppressed to the forefront, focusing on possibly violent deaths and ignored aspects of decay. The “inarticulate confessions” and repeated “revenge”s suggest that there is a suppressed story within the experiences of women—truths and traumas that die unspoken. The unconventional form of the poem (with its free verse, inconsistent capitalization, enjambments, questions, parentheses, and so on) mirrors how marginalized individual and collective histories are often silenced, yet their presence endures in the landscape itself. Rich’s language encourages us to consider the landscape not only as a natural setting but as a repository of lost lives, suggesting that environmental justice includes acknowledging the histories of those who have been “devoured” by the cycle of life and death. Last but not least, considering the poem from American perspective, Rich may be questioning her (male) precedents in poetry who put boundaries between the individual man and the nature. In this way, she might be pointing to ecological consciousness as a notion that involves recognizing the “beloved matter” of our ancestors within the land. This reinforces respect and remembrance for both humanity and nature, advocating for an awareness of shared history.
3- Both *A Grave* by Marianne Moore and *The Sea is History* by Derek Walcott braid together memory and an environmental sentiment that is not Anthropocentric in nature, possibly arguing for the protection of habitats, mainly the sea, due to its hold on human history.
ReplyDeleteIn the first section of *The Sea is History*, the sea is considered as a vault of colonial memory, as the environment where violent displacement “Then there were the packed cries,/ the shit, the moaning…” occurred, and as the safekeeper of people “…as the white cowries clustered like manacles/ on the drowned women…”. However, this section is initiated by dialogue that shows the contrast between Western thought concerning memory and history revisioned. “Where are your monuments, your battles, martyrs?” While Walcott discusses a somewhat related story of the battles and martyrs, through Biblical language, that perhaps could be considered an moment of being haunted by convention or propriety like Woolf according to Rich, when envisioning a Renaissance, the poetic voice brings the speaker to the water. The vault carries more than violent memory, the Sea guards emancipation and “and these groined caves with barnacles/ pitted like stone/ are our cathedrals…”. It’s subtle but its a life and history embodied by the natural world itself. The repetition of the speaker, in denial “…it was not History;”, shows the confrontation being the perspective of the submerged, intentionally through violence but also submerged as one living in tandem in the natural world, and the one who submerges, those who have a rapacious look.
In A Grave, the Sea is considered a graveyard to those who have become victims of the lack of repression of the Sea towards those who seek domination, “There are others besides you who have worn that look—/ whose expression is no longer a protest; the fish no longer investigate them/ for their bones have not lasted:”. To procede in exploitative action is to perturb that grave but also possibly become a victim yourself. In combination, the Sea is a keeper of bodies, culture and stolen futures, a living cemetery and history book, beyond simply just an environment tied to food sources, maintaining life and creating life-essencial resources.
Indigenous cultures typically tie culture and memory to nature, nature recording culture (The first section of Invisible Fish by Joy Harjo, with the fish recorded in the stone) and culture recording nature (stewarding pratices as key parts of culture, majorly changed by colonialism, displacement and pollution (Gilio-Whitaker, 2019)) and so Indigenous movements of environmental justice, similarly to the poems, make a connection between memory and nature. This braid involves memory of exploitation and of emancipation, not separating human from Nature and advocating for a protection of human through the protection of nature. Through the intersection of cultural and natural language in the poems, “…then came the secretarial heron,…” and “…beautiful under networks of foam…”, there is a creation of a new world view beyond Antropocentrism, whose history, like Walcott claims is “…really beginning.”
1. Marianne Moore’s A Jelly-Fish explores the enigmatic beauty of nature through the figure of a jellyfish. With minimal, precise language, the poem delves into the ephemeral and untouchable qualities of the natural world, highlighting the tension between human desire to possess and the autonomy of nature itself. The poem opens: /Visible, invisible, /A fluctuating charm, / These lines immediately establish the jellyfish as a paradoxical entity, oscillating between presence and absence. It is both “visible” and “invisible,” eluding concrete perception and presenting itself as a “fluctuating charm.” This duality not only reflects the physical qualities of the jellyfish but also symbolizes the broader difficulty of comprehending the mysteries of life and nature. /An amber-colored amethyst / Inhabits it; your arm / Moore paints the jellyfish as a radiant, precious object, likening it to an “amber-colored amethyst.” This description imbues the creature with an almost ethereal quality, suggesting its status as both natural and otherworldly. The verb “inhabits” subtly implies that the jellyfish is less a static form and more a transient, luminous presence, defying traditional notions of physicality. /Approaches, and / It opens and / It closes; / You had meant / To catch it, / And it shrivel; / You abandon / Your intent—/ The movement of the jellyfish is described with a rhythmic precision that mirrors the fluidity of the ocean. It “opens” and “closes,” a motion both hypnotic and elusive. The speaker’s attempt to “catch it” results in the jellyfish shrinking or “shriveling”, emphasizing its fragility and resistance to being controlled. This encounter reflects a moment of humility; the observer abandons their intent, acknowledging the creature’s independence and the futility of imposing human will upon it. / It opens, and it / Closes and you / Reach for it—/The blue / Surrounding it / Grows cloudy, and / It floats away / From you./ In these final lines, Moore intensifies the sensory imagery surrounding the jellyfish. The observer’s action—“you/ Reach for it”—disrupts the pristine clarity of the scene. The “blue surrounding it/ Grows cloudy” , suggesting both the literal murkiness caused by disturbance and the figurative obscurity of the jellyfish slipping away. Its final act—“It floats away”—reaffirms its autonomy, leaving the speaker with a poignant recognition of the jellyfish’s transience and the limitations of human engagement with nature.
ReplyDeleteIn A Jelly-Fish, Moore masterfully evokes the fleeting beauty and mystery of the natural world through precise and evocative language. The jellyfish becomes a symbol of the elusive and autonomous forces of nature, resisting human attempts at possession or understanding. The poem’s subtle progression, from the desire to “catch it” to the acknowledgment of its escape, reflects a broader meditation on humility and respect in humanity’s relationship with nature. By capturing the jellyfish’s delicate beauty and evanescent presence, Moore invites readers to embrace the wonders of life not as conquerors, but as reverent witnesses.
1. Marianne Moore’s “A Jelly-Fish” is a brief yet profound meditation on the fleeting, enigmatic qualities of life and nature. The poem captures the essence of encountering a jellyfish, a creature that is both delicate and elusive, embodying themes of transience, perception, and the limits of human understanding.
ReplyDeleteThe jellyfish serves as a metaphor for the ephemeral and untouchable aspects of existence. Its fluid, transparent form mirrors fragile and transient phenomena such as beauty, inspiration, or insight. When the speaker attempts to grasp the jellyfish, it evades capture, slipping away like an intangible truth or fleeting idea. This act of reaching and failing symbolizes the human desire to understand or control the unknowable, reflecting the tension between wanting to hold onto fleeting moments and the impossibility of doing so.
Moore’s depiction of the jellyfish also highlights the autonomy of nature. The creature exists independently, moving gracefully and evading human interference. This autonomy can be interpreted as a reminder of the natural world’s self-sufficiency and resistance to being defined or contained by human terms. By failing to hold onto the jellyfish, the speaker acknowledges their limitations and perhaps accepts the necessity of respecting nature’s mysteries.
The poem also explores the act of perception. The jellyfish’s transparency and fluidity challenge the speaker to observe carefully, yet its motion complicates the act of seeing. This interplay of clarity and elusiveness suggests that perception requires both attention and humility. It reflects the idea that true understanding often remains incomplete and that some aspects of life defy clear comprehension.
Stylistically, Moore’s modernist approach is evident in the poem’s compact form and minimalist language. Her precision and restraint force readers to focus on the simple yet profound image of the jellyfish and the speaker’s interaction with it. The poem’s structure mirrors the jellyfish’s qualities: fluid, fleeting, and delicately formed. By avoiding elaborate description or narrative, Moore invites readers to engage deeply with the image and its implications.
Ultimately, “A Jelly-Fish” is a meditation on the ephemeral and the ungraspable. Through the image of a jellyfish that eludes capture, Moore explores the beauty and mystery of life’s fleeting moments and the limits of human control and comprehension. The poem suggests that not everything is meant to be held or fully understood; some experiences are best observed, respected, and left to exist in their own delicate, elusive form. In doing so, Moore encourages an appreciation of life’s mysteries and an acceptance of the things that remain beyond our reach.