Wednesday, February 28, 2007
/ 12:57 AM
The following are extracts picked out randomly from a poetry book which I also randomly picked up in the National Library.. Just for your reference, the book is entitled "it" and the poet is Inger Christensen.. Who is a Danish actually..
Here's something which may explain why the title of the book is "it".. Unusual title yeah?
"In the beginning I actually acted as if I weren't there, as if it ("I") were just some protoplasm talking, acted as if I were just something that went along while a language, a world, unfolded."
That's interesting..
The rest are also from this book.. Enjoy!
-----
In the beginning a marked tendency simply to act insane will be noticed in the individual demostrator. The mere fact that he is naked will cause him to want to hide in the norm of insanity. But as soon as he touches the other demostrators and they roll each other in the snow or in feelings and get up and pair off and dance and formulate their expressions freely - flowers in their hair and dirt and grass all over them - he will understand that it is a kind of insanity to act as if the individual exists. It is this understanding that must of necessity be disciplined. In order to keep the movement soft at all times, the individual must be hard on himself. Insanity is the ability to do the impossible. Magic is the will to."
-----
Eccentric attempts
when a man
steps out of himself
steps out of
his daily life
his function
his situation
steps out of
his habits
his peaceful
condition
we call the process
ecstasy
when he claims
that the clouds
shoot by like pain...
It starts
It starts again
It starts in me
It starts in the world
It starts in world after world
It starts far beyond the world
...
and there is nothing to do but to say it as it is
-----
What's written is always something else
And what's descibed is something else again
Between them lies the undescribed
Which as soon as it's described
Opens up new undescribed areas
It's indescribable
Even though darkness is defined by light
And light by darkness
Something's always left out
And even if this something is "defined"
as fazed gardens
behind iron fencing that grows
the logic is always left
And even though the logic is not defined
but concealed beneath layers of gardens
painted from garden to garden
there's still a restlessness left
a despair
a pulse with no body
This is a criticism of the body
because it's a criticism of life.
-----
That's all for now.. My body's aching coz I just knocked off work at 11pm.. But interesting stuff like these can still keep me up at night.. Well, I'll leave the above for you to interpret in whichever way you like! Poems are nice coz you can think of many possible interpretations.. I'll be back with more next time
Here's something which may explain why the title of the book is "it".. Unusual title yeah?
"In the beginning I actually acted as if I weren't there, as if it ("I") were just some protoplasm talking, acted as if I were just something that went along while a language, a world, unfolded."
That's interesting..
The rest are also from this book.. Enjoy!
-----
In the beginning a marked tendency simply to act insane will be noticed in the individual demostrator. The mere fact that he is naked will cause him to want to hide in the norm of insanity. But as soon as he touches the other demostrators and they roll each other in the snow or in feelings and get up and pair off and dance and formulate their expressions freely - flowers in their hair and dirt and grass all over them - he will understand that it is a kind of insanity to act as if the individual exists. It is this understanding that must of necessity be disciplined. In order to keep the movement soft at all times, the individual must be hard on himself. Insanity is the ability to do the impossible. Magic is the will to."
-----
Eccentric attempts
when a man
steps out of himself
steps out of
his daily life
his function
his situation
steps out of
his habits
his peaceful
condition
we call the process
ecstasy
when he claims
that the clouds
shoot by like pain...
It starts
It starts again
It starts in me
It starts in the world
It starts in world after world
It starts far beyond the world
...
and there is nothing to do but to say it as it is
-----
What's written is always something else
And what's descibed is something else again
Between them lies the undescribed
Which as soon as it's described
Opens up new undescribed areas
It's indescribable
Even though darkness is defined by light
And light by darkness
Something's always left out
And even if this something is "defined"
as fazed gardens
behind iron fencing that grows
the logic is always left
And even though the logic is not defined
but concealed beneath layers of gardens
painted from garden to garden
there's still a restlessness left
a despair
a pulse with no body
This is a criticism of the body
because it's a criticism of life.
-----
That's all for now.. My body's aching coz I just knocked off work at 11pm.. But interesting stuff like these can still keep me up at night.. Well, I'll leave the above for you to interpret in whichever way you like! Poems are nice coz you can think of many possible interpretations.. I'll be back with more next time