Friday’s Weekly Round-Up – 146

Joep Bremmers‘ “Ik en mijn plasje – Allen Ginsberg in Vlissingen” (“Me and my peepee”), his study of Allen’s January 1, 1983, visit to the Dutch town of Vlissingen (and the occasion of the poem “What The Sea Throws Up At Vlissingen” (included in White Shroud – Poems 1980-1985)), will be celebrated tomorrow in Vlissingen with a gala event, featuring, among others, Eddie Woods, Bremmers himself – and The Mondriaan String Quartet, who will perform, not only “September on Jessore Road” as they originally recorded it (Bremmers in his book discusses that recording), but also, several other poems, … Read More

Spontaneous Poetics – (W.B.Yeats – 4)

William Butler Yeats, by Lady Ottoline Morrell, 15-16 July 1924 - NPG Ax141697 - © National Portrait Gallery, London
[W.B.Yeats in 1924  – Photographed by Lady Ottoline Morrell – Copyright The National Portrait Gallery, London

 
AG (to Philip Whalen): Do you want to do anything about this one, “In Memory of  Major Robert Gregory”.That’s all about his friends and he wants to…
 
PW: Yeah, go ahead.
 
AG: Well, continuing this theme – both of friendship and the death of (a) friend – (which, for me, was a major influence in “Howl”). Actually, oddly enough, despite the disparity of forms, (this is) another phase of, say, withdrawal from worldly business, retirement from the world, and … Read More

Spontaneous Poetics – (W.B.Yeats – 3)

 
 
Philip Whalen: Another one of the down poems (of W.B.Yeats) is the one that I was trying to find a while ago – [PW reads “The Witch” –  “Toil and grow rich/What’s that but to lie/With a foul witch/And after, drained dry,/ To be brought/To the chamber where/Lies one long sought/ With despair?”  – followed by “The Peacock” –  “What’s riches to him/That has made a great peacock/With the pride of his eye?/The wind-beaten stone-grey/And desolate Three Rock/Would nourish his whim/Live he or … Read More

Spontaneous Poetics – (W.B.Yeats – 2)

[W.B.Yeats (1865-1939) in 1910 – photo by Alvin Langdon Coburn]

AG: Early on, he (Yeats) began to realize transitoriness, and the withering up of his youthful powers, or, at any rate, the withering up of his youthful imagination. (He was), I guess helped by (Ezra) Pound, who took all his early poems and blue-pencilled them – underlined every word that Pound thought was abstract. Yeats, in his preface to A Vision, (talks about how Pound criticized anything) that didn’t satisfy (his) notion of presentation rather than reference, (of) presenting concrete facts, as in “No ideas but in things”

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