Stevenson on Whitman, Nietzsche on Dante and The Family Circus

Flavorwire has a list of the 30 Harshest Author-on-Author Insults in History up today.

Two of the first three don’t feel like insults at all:

Wouldn’t you love to be called a “large shaggy dog just unchained scouring the beaches of the world and baying at the moon” by RLS?  I for sure would.

Nietzsche’s aphorism about Dante is hysterical even if you think he’s wrong. It’s also brilliant.  And now, aren’t you thinking about how awesome it would be to write poetry on tombs?  I for sure am.  With the transcendent, absurd, holy, trippy joy through which I assume hyenas experience the world?  Yes, please!

Speaking of Nietzsche, have you experienced Nietzsche Family Circus?  It takes a random Family Circus panel and pairs it with a random Nietzsche quote.   When you get results like the one below, you start to question if the whole thing isn’t rigged:

And then you keep clicking, only to watch Billy whispering into Jeffy’s ear that eventually the abyss will stare back into him (this while they’re watching their mother, Thel, playing with baby PJ) or telling Thel that God is dead. Dolly’s “why” for living is a pair of giant sunglasses.  Jeffy levels some pretty hard charges against the Keane regime, and then this, which cracks me up:

It turns out that Family Circus + Nietzsche = Calvin and Hobbes.

Poetry Being the Thing

The Path

The narrow path crawling,
Shivering underneath the feet,
At the end of which
The Tree of Life has grown, shimmering…

What a big heart it has
This road to Eternity
This path for people, plants and beasts alike,
This path of winged birds…Breathe, o breeze,
Little stutterer,
Entwining and swirling
The love of life
And the harvest of the heart,
From the sea waves,
From the cloud pleats,
From the molten blaze
Of crimson flowers,
Let her light a golden light under my bosom,
And you, blow into the flame, o gentle wind,
So that my hope
Swells eternally
Over my chest…

(Komitas)

A Poem

Tell me, if I caught you one day
and kissed the sole of your foot,
wouldn’t you limp a little then,
afraid to crush my kiss?…

(Nichita Stãnescu)

I Am

I am your love,
I am the heat of your love,
Yet lonely…

I am your woman,
You, you are my soul
That I depend on…

Your voice sounded as sudden thunder of love
My soul breathed as an elating lightning of spring…

I breathed your breath deep down my chest
And by your fire I became the poet of the flames…

(Komitas)

 

…the most memorable concern of mankind
is the guts it takes to
face the sunlight again.

(Bukowski)

Language was invented for one reason, boys – to woo women – and, in that endeavor, laziness will not do. It also won’t do in your essays.

(John Keating, Dead Poet’s Society)

Happy Valentine’s Day, dear readers.  And to my wife.

Tired (via Cropping Reality): Jogging My Poetic Memory

Love this picture from Cropping Reality. It was taken in Dublin, and it reminded me right away of a poem I wrote while sitting in the ruins of Christ Church years ago. Part of the poem mentions horses just like this clodding past the ruins. Cutting Reality, thanks for bringing back the memory. Now I have to find the poem and some Dublin pictures to pair it with here on TDC.

Tired Working horses in front of the St. Stephen’s Green park entrance. I left the wide angle   lens distortion on purpose. … Read More

via Cropping Reality

Lots of other great pictures on Cropping Realty.  Do check them out.

Adam’s Rib

From the fall of 2009.  It’s amazing the things we forget we’ve heard and read.  I don’t have very much of a recollection of this, but I’m glad I wrote about it.

Poet Emily Warn read at The New School last night, and she shared something I’ve never heard said before about the account of creation in Genesis.

As everyone knows, it’s impossible to translate ancient or even contemporary texts between two languages exactly. There are idioms and feelings that, as the saying goes, become inevitably lost in translation. Warn said that one of the ancient Hebrew words that has no known analog in English is the word for that which God took from Adam to fashion Eve. It was rendered long ago as “rib” but, according to Warn, no one really knows what it means. Warn, raised in an Orthodox Jewish family after the age of 6, said it’s more like a fleshing over of Adam’s own incompleteness.

Wikipedia says that the word translated as rib could also be rendered as “beam” or “side” or “chamber” and that recent feminist interpretations have favored the idea of Eve being made from Adam’s side, suggesting her equal bearing (literally, by, even if out of, his side). I think that squares nicely with understanding the creation of Eve, within the context of the narrative, as a fleshing over of Adam’s incompleteness. Sure, you still have to deal with a God who didn’t choose to create them together (?), but there is, nonetheless, something very poignant here. Perhaps from the chamber of Adam’s emptiness?