Starting Again Somewhere

I like the way Clark Coolidge begins by suggesting his possible “use” to be “to give you some options.” Along the lines of this purpose, I appreciate the example of poetic relationships he provides in his comparison of Aram Saroyan’s one word poems and his own work at putting things together during the same time. This example illustrates just how broad the field of possibilities of places to take options from is (I also like the way he uses vectors to describe them). Not only consensus. But resistance. Evolution. Metamorphises.

This notion of resistance seemed to be that of torque. His description of the “ohm” is a definition of torque that works for me: “You could talk about art being insistent emphasis. The words really came to me very strongly, as things. And I began to think: but I want to put them together with that kind of intensity. I want to see what happens. Also, another thing I was interested in, at the time, was making a poem of words that don’t go together in some ways, that have resistance, that they don’t go. That kind of energy. As that word ‘ohm’ has to do, in a way, with electrical resitance” (163). There is a sentence on 148 that struck me as having torque: “And I remember being in there one day and there were these guys and they were all working with Bunsen burners and blowup pipes and everything and they were smashing wrocks with hammers and they were taking a test, an exam.” The narrative this description is part of describes the tension of the specific and the general, I think, that I talk about later.

This made me think of Lyotard talking about language games in The Postmodern Condition: a Report on Knowledge: “In the ordinary use of discourse--for example, in a discussion between two friends--the interlocutors use any available ammunition, changing games from one utterance to the next: questions, requests, assertions, and narratives are launched pell-mell into battle. The war is not without rules, but the rules allow and encourage the greatest possible flexibility of utterance” (17). I know the word “rule” might be a problem for Coolidge. But it was also one of the first things I wrote down while reading. I think Lyotard’s understanding of rules is similar to Coolidge’s conception of pattern and action that Mimsy Were the Borogroves illustrates so well. This idea that when things are put in there very specific place, that can only be described generally, they do something. Here he is able to reconcile the arbitrary nature of language and meaning, junk, and the continued desire and belief to use that junk to do something.

I also appreciate his poetical ethic. He also includes in his introduction: “This is going to be quite rapid in places... I think it’s very important to know how many possibilities there are for an artist, and there are almost too many. There are to many. So, if the information goes by you quickly or there are things, names, that you’re not familiar with, I hope you’ll ask me and I’ll be glad to try to amplify” (144). This suggest the notion that despite there being too many and his attempt to give us the experience of the overwhelming too many, he would like to be understood. He deserves the respect not to be misunderstood and the options he is transmitting, often from relations with other poets, deserve the respect and patience necessary. Like Aram at is one word poems, editing.

From reading this I got the notion of, in a poem, arranging objects so that the shadow, in the right light (the right reader--willing/able to come to the poem), will resemble the desired image though they might not be the object that is generally associated with that image, so that the words will trigger in the reader a resemblance of the thought motivating the arrangement despite whatever slant of translation occurs within the space, and motivate that space to become productive, to encompass possibility.