Your assignment is to find the full text of the annual song sung on the eve of January 1st.
Read it, scan it (in your mind, if it's library book or something like that) and learn from it.
To me, its author is a master of pretty much everything I've been saying this year.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Friday, December 26, 2008
"But what's the mortar?"
Studying foreign languages that are really foreign (those that force you to learn their grammar before you can read them with any continuous ability at all) can benefit those who want to learn more about their own language.
I came to that kind of language learning late.
That feels odd for me to say, since I was picking polysyllabic words out of newspapers when I was ... well, really young. (But no one should push a child to learn to read, IMHO. I wasn't.)
People I met in college who were really good at, say, Latin, started at a relatively young age. (Whether they were pushed or not, I have no idea.)
I never learned to read continuously the languages I took in college. But that doesn't mean I learned nothing. Just doing it with even moderate success under grading pressure exercised the language "muscles" in my brain sufficiently to help me write better.
If you're not in school now, maybe you could try to teach one to yourself -- but that's really hard! (You've got to test and grade yourself, as well as check your own homework.)
Maybe you could read good books about language in general, instead. I'm afraid I have no suggestions beyond the Otto Jespersen book I mentioned earlier this year.
The idea is to get your hands directly onto the building blocks of your medium -- language. I wish you the best of luck.
---
This is my last post of the year. I plan to take a break from weekly posting for a while. But during that time, I'll try to do my best to post as it seems most people do -- whenever the mood strikes and the opportunity presents -- as often as I can.
Happy holidays.
I came to that kind of language learning late.
That feels odd for me to say, since I was picking polysyllabic words out of newspapers when I was ... well, really young. (But no one should push a child to learn to read, IMHO. I wasn't.)
People I met in college who were really good at, say, Latin, started at a relatively young age. (Whether they were pushed or not, I have no idea.)
I never learned to read continuously the languages I took in college. But that doesn't mean I learned nothing. Just doing it with even moderate success under grading pressure exercised the language "muscles" in my brain sufficiently to help me write better.
If you're not in school now, maybe you could try to teach one to yourself -- but that's really hard! (You've got to test and grade yourself, as well as check your own homework.)
Maybe you could read good books about language in general, instead. I'm afraid I have no suggestions beyond the Otto Jespersen book I mentioned earlier this year.
The idea is to get your hands directly onto the building blocks of your medium -- language. I wish you the best of luck.
---
This is my last post of the year. I plan to take a break from weekly posting for a while. But during that time, I'll try to do my best to post as it seems most people do -- whenever the mood strikes and the opportunity presents -- as often as I can.
Happy holidays.
Friday, December 19, 2008
"Words, words, words ... "
Words are the bricks in our buildings.
Yes, we can use them to build a wall between us and our readers, or we can use them to construct edifices for them to explore. It's up to us.
What's great about English, in particular, is the richness of its many nuances. We have denotation, connotation, historic definitions, associated or applied definitions, plus various "senses" depending on context. And various usages, depending on the application of those "senses."
Wow! Sounds pretty complex when you think about it.
Usually, these things are intuitive to most users of the language. We poets join the linguists in consciously thinking about them, but we have different aims in so doing.
Expression is what we do, but it doesn't hurt to have a little background in the architecture of language before we begin to express ourselves.
Yes, we can use them to build a wall between us and our readers, or we can use them to construct edifices for them to explore. It's up to us.
What's great about English, in particular, is the richness of its many nuances. We have denotation, connotation, historic definitions, associated or applied definitions, plus various "senses" depending on context. And various usages, depending on the application of those "senses."
Wow! Sounds pretty complex when you think about it.
Usually, these things are intuitive to most users of the language. We poets join the linguists in consciously thinking about them, but we have different aims in so doing.
Expression is what we do, but it doesn't hurt to have a little background in the architecture of language before we begin to express ourselves.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Yes, You -Can- Use Colored Chalk ...
You may want to add some "personality" to your verse, especially in sequences.
The most well-known examples are the collected poems of Robert Browning. Famous for his dramatic monologues in blank verse, Browning also wrote some in rhyme -- sometimes in experiments so bold few dared to try them (at least that I know of).
He almost always invented a character (or used historical ones) to "deliver" his poem, prompting the reader to discern for themselves who was "talking" and why they were saying just what Browning had them say.
Swinburne (mentioned many posts ago) and Thomas Hardy (same) were among the few who emulated Browning's rhetorical method with success. Both also made their own forays into metrical expression, again following Browning's example.
But there's another, more subtle, use of developing a "persona" for some of your poems. Again, we return to Shakespeare: it has been suggested that his sonnets are less like letters or diary entries than they may appear.
The master dramatist may have chosen elements of other people's personalities, or (more likely) just invented some of those elements, and carefully blended them with his own to create a "spokesman" for his personal poems.
This is pretty much "upper-level" stuff for a writer: it takes a lot of self-knowledge to see how this could be done as an individual, and a lot of skill to actually pull it off.
But I thought I'd pass it along now, in case you have some of those poems that are a little too personal you can't bring yourself to burn.
Ask yourself this: does the mirror occasionally reflect someone else?
The most well-known examples are the collected poems of Robert Browning. Famous for his dramatic monologues in blank verse, Browning also wrote some in rhyme -- sometimes in experiments so bold few dared to try them (at least that I know of).
He almost always invented a character (or used historical ones) to "deliver" his poem, prompting the reader to discern for themselves who was "talking" and why they were saying just what Browning had them say.
Swinburne (mentioned many posts ago) and Thomas Hardy (same) were among the few who emulated Browning's rhetorical method with success. Both also made their own forays into metrical expression, again following Browning's example.
But there's another, more subtle, use of developing a "persona" for some of your poems. Again, we return to Shakespeare: it has been suggested that his sonnets are less like letters or diary entries than they may appear.
The master dramatist may have chosen elements of other people's personalities, or (more likely) just invented some of those elements, and carefully blended them with his own to create a "spokesman" for his personal poems.
This is pretty much "upper-level" stuff for a writer: it takes a lot of self-knowledge to see how this could be done as an individual, and a lot of skill to actually pull it off.
But I thought I'd pass it along now, in case you have some of those poems that are a little too personal you can't bring yourself to burn.
Ask yourself this: does the mirror occasionally reflect someone else?
Friday, December 5, 2008
My "No Chalk" Day
Ahem, pay attention class. Time for the weekly lesson ... (raises chalk in hand and approaches board behind him -- then freezes).
I have no lesson for you today, or really anytime. It's a persona I put on just to help me phrase things here.
And that's especially true today, since I can offer nothing better than a link (which, as usual, you'll have to copy-and-paste into your browser, I'm afraid) to three things much better than I can offer.
Or, perhaps you'd enjoy some winter exercise like a walk to the public library in your neighborhood.
In either case, Poetry magazine's December 2008 issue has three articles I can recommend to you enthusiastically.
An interview with Seamus Heaney, a memoir by Fannie Howe and a book review by Michael Robbins all deal with subjects I've touched on here -- and in far greater depth than I can.
They are at poetryfoundation.org . Just click on the magazine cover in the upper right corner of the home page, then click on "Table of Contents." Scroll down that page to find the articles.
Enjoy!
I have no lesson for you today, or really anytime. It's a persona I put on just to help me phrase things here.
And that's especially true today, since I can offer nothing better than a link (which, as usual, you'll have to copy-and-paste into your browser, I'm afraid) to three things much better than I can offer.
Or, perhaps you'd enjoy some winter exercise like a walk to the public library in your neighborhood.
In either case, Poetry magazine's December 2008 issue has three articles I can recommend to you enthusiastically.
An interview with Seamus Heaney, a memoir by Fannie Howe and a book review by Michael Robbins all deal with subjects I've touched on here -- and in far greater depth than I can.
They are at poetryfoundation.org . Just click on the magazine cover in the upper right corner of the home page, then click on "Table of Contents." Scroll down that page to find the articles.
Enjoy!
