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Poetry, musings thereon.
Aug. 5th, 2011 09:38 pmSo. I'm about half way through a book of poems by e.e. cummings. (1X1, if anyone's curious.)
...*headtilt* I'm not sure if it's forcing me to sprout new braincells just to work with it, or if forcing braincells to die off.
I've obviously heard of his work before, obviously heard of his style, but I'm not sure if I've ever read any of his work before. It's... fascinating - occasionally I feel like he's just taking the piss but at the same time it's hard to tell. I can only make out what the hell he's talking about about half the time - but as my old writing teacher might say, mart of the meaning may be made up of the interpretation.
This is why poetry - all poetry, and a solid bit of short stories for that matter - tends to hurt my brain. I tend to not get it, not understand the point. Too indistinct. I'm fine with ambiguity, fine with alternative meanings and all of that. But - it's like, in a novel there's more detail. More lines of a painting to make something interesting. But the less detail, the less fleshing out - it's like a single line on a piece of paper. It could be so many things that it means nothing at all. Minimalist poetry, abstract art in the same vein - I just... don't get it. I can't make it fit in my headspace.
....cummings is probably an extreme example, though.
S
...*headtilt* I'm not sure if it's forcing me to sprout new braincells just to work with it, or if forcing braincells to die off.
I've obviously heard of his work before, obviously heard of his style, but I'm not sure if I've ever read any of his work before. It's... fascinating - occasionally I feel like he's just taking the piss but at the same time it's hard to tell. I can only make out what the hell he's talking about about half the time - but as my old writing teacher might say, mart of the meaning may be made up of the interpretation.
This is why poetry - all poetry, and a solid bit of short stories for that matter - tends to hurt my brain. I tend to not get it, not understand the point. Too indistinct. I'm fine with ambiguity, fine with alternative meanings and all of that. But - it's like, in a novel there's more detail. More lines of a painting to make something interesting. But the less detail, the less fleshing out - it's like a single line on a piece of paper. It could be so many things that it means nothing at all. Minimalist poetry, abstract art in the same vein - I just... don't get it. I can't make it fit in my headspace.
....cummings is probably an extreme example, though.
S
