酷我-北美枫

What do you read, my lord?

The Toronto Public Library will be kicking off Keep Toronto Reading tomorrow, a month-long celebration of books in all forms. It’s a celebration of the joy of reading as well as a celebration of Canadian writers, and to see Toronto through a variety of literary works. As part of the city's 175th anniversary celebrations this year, many Lit City events are planned around books that reflect various neighbourhoods.

“Words, words, words,” Hamlet said when the old fool Polonius asked him, “What do you read, my lord?” Was he a mean user of words himself? For anyone who is interested in this question, please read the play.

Hopefully, this thread will be a book discussion thread. What are you going read, my fellow writers?

Note: For more information on Keep Toronto Reading, log on to www.keeptorontoreading.ca.

Poem Text of He/She by Arnold Adoff

He:ggggggg:ehS
ThereggggerehT
isgggggggggggsi
hairgggggggriah
ongggggggggno
myggggggggym
upperggggreppu
lip.gggggggg.pil

Personal reflection:

In terms of genre, structure, theme, and writing techniques, Adoff’s He/She is a demanding poem which asks for imaginative reading strategies.

Do you have active, intelligent imagination? Can you tell me what this poem is about ?

Winter of Our Discontent

showered with snow I am,
as I pine for summer rains –
oh, snail of time!

Stillness and Presence

Be still for moments, and imagine how liberating it is when you awaken to realize and accept without analysis that both past and future are activities of the present. The present is all that exists and will ever exist.

Be attentive to your surroundings, and contemplate how joyful it is when you are in the full presence at this present moment and enjoy peace of mind and contentment. Time loses its grip on you, and past and future are beyond care and awareness.

尋隱者不遇賈島

松下問童子
言師採藥去
只在此山中
雲深不知處

English Translation: Seeking the Recluse but Not Meeting by Jia Dao

Under a pine
I asked the little boy;

he said, “My Master’s gone
to pick herbs.

I only know
he’s in this mountain somewhere,

but the clouds are so deep,
and I don't know where.”

When I heard the Learn’d Astronomer by Walt Whitman

When I heard the learn’d astronomer;
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;
When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them;
When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick;
Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.

Chinese Translation: 一堂滿堂喝采的天文課

當我聽到那博學的天文家，
當證明啦、數字啦、成排地在我面前，
當圖啊、表啊列出，要把它們加減乘除，
當我坐在教室聽那天文學家講得滿堂喝采，
很快沒來由的我會變得疲乏厭倦，
只好起來悄悄一個人溜出去，
在神秘濕潤的夜空裡，不時地，
在純然的寂靜中仰望星辰。

The Story of a Whiner Co-written with ericcoliu

Eric: Fuck! We haven’t had any bites since early this morning.
James: Just be quiet. Be patient.
(Eric glances at his watch.)
Eric; Holy shit! Now, it’s almost 6 pm. James, we’ve spent the day here with nothing. Can we call it a day?
James: You’re a real whiner. You know that, right?
Eric: No, I just don’t want to waste …
(James interrupts Eric’s talking.)
James: Have you ever heard of Henry Schmidt, Eric? Nah! This guy was from Brownsville, Texas, and was a gifted pitcher. In his rookie year, he played for the Brooklyn Superbas during the 1903 season, and he …
Eric: What the hell does this goddamned baseball player’s story have anything to do with us? We might as well have just stayed at home and stuck our thumbs up our asses.
(James looks at Eric intensely for moments. There is a momentary tension. Then, James starts talking again.)
James: In his first year, he won 22 games. …
Eric; Whatever! I’ve never heard of him!
James: That’s the point! He could have been a baseball hall of fame, but he sent his manager his second season contract unsigned with a note attached to it, saying, “I do not like living in the East, and I won’t report to the coach.” After that, he had never played another game in the Majors.
(Eric shows his disbelief and raises his voice.)
Eric: Why? Did he screw like that?
James: Why? Because he knew he had to walk away. Because some voice deep inside him was telling him, “It’s time now.” Maybe you have the same voice as his telling you that it’s time to leave.
(Eric suddenly seems to understand what James was trying to say.)
Eric: No, it’s not like that. I just hate wasting …
(James waves his hand and makes a gesture to tell Eric to shut up.)
James: Why don’t we do what I said when we first got here? Be quiet and patient.
Eric: What if that doesn’t work?
James: Then we wait some more!
Eric: Yeah.

Silent falls between them. Gradually, the sun has been moving across the landscape, over the willow trees by the river. Two men have been fishing all day without any bites.

Sevenling (After Ericcoliu)

Give me your tired
your poor
your huddled masses

yearning to breathe freely
to live happily
to worship fearlessly

This is The Much Too Promised Land

Conversations with Father co-written by ericcoliu

I

Father, how can I get out of this limbo state?
My dear child, behold and see what lies ahead of you.
I see nothing.
Close your eyes, and open your heart.
Oh! Father, I ...
Enough! My child, just go ahead step by step to pass the time.

II

Father, I have a brain tumour.
My dear child, are you scared?
Yes, I'm going to die.
Me too.
Oh, Father! What do you have?
A body.
I don’t understand.
My dear child, we all have bodies
Which give birth so that another is born,
Eating, drinking, defecating,
And unashamedly, sick and dying.
But I’m scared, Father. What should I do?
Enough! My child, just go ahead step by step to pass the time.

After great pain, a formal feeling comes by Emily Dickinson

After great pain, a formal feeling comes--
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs--
The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?

The Feet, mechanical, go round--
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought--
A Wooden way
Regardless grown,
A Quartz contentment, like a stone--

This is the Hour of Lead--
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons recollect the Snow--
First--Chill--then Stupor--then the letting go--

Chinese Translation

在巨痛之後，森漠的感覺隨之而來──
神經肅坐，像墳墓般──
緊綳的心質問──受苦的是他嗎？
是昨天，還是數世紀前？

機械般的雙脚，徘徊──
在地上，或空中，或義務般站立──
像木頭般僵直
不在意之感漸生，
一種晶寂的滿足，像個石頭──

這是沈重如铅的時刻──
如生還會記住，
如同僵凍的人回憶雪景──
先是寒冷──昏麻──然後撒手

Poem Text of In Those Years by Adrienne Rich

In those years, people will say, we lost track
of the meaning of we, of you
we found ourselves
reduced to I
and the whole thing became
silly, ironic, terrible:
we were trying to live a personal life
and, yes, that was the only life
we could bear witness to

But the great dark birds of history screamed and plunged
into our personal weather
They were headed somewhere else but their beaks and pinions drove
along the shore, through rages of fog
where we stood, saying I

Chinese Translation

在那段歲月

在那段歲月，人們會說，我們遺忘了
我們或你們的涵義
我們發現自己
已還原成只有我
並且整個的事情變成
愚笨，嘲諷，令人恐懼的
我們嚐試過一種個人的生活
並且，是的，那是唯一的生活
我們能夠做見証

但是歷史的大黑鳥却尖叫並闖進
我們個人的境遇中
它們飛向某處，但是它們的嘴和翅膀却沿著
海岸急速擺動，穿越雲霧的盛怒
而我們站立於此，說著我

Note:

Thank ericcoliu for posting Rich's well-crafted poem, In Those Years, which is included in his reply to Mar's poem, Temple.

Poem Text of Her Kind by Anne Sexton

I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.

I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.

Review:

Anne Sexton’s confessional poem Her Kind presents contrasting images between the roles of women prescribed by patriarchal society and those of the speaker in the poem. Her strong control over line and stanza arrangement and rhyme scheme provides the pattern of structure and logic for the poem. The perspective expressed in the first five lines of each stanza is an individualized I; In the sixth line of each stanza, the speaker changes to the third person, a woman, and distances herself from the I in the previous lines; the last line is the refrain, “I have been her kind,” threading all three stanzas together and giving the unconventional roles of women increased emphasis.

Anne Sexton creates a different world for women to inhabit through her vivid imagery. The first image presented in the first stanza is a devilish image, an image of a witch. She is “possessed,” “haunting,” “dreaming evil,” and “twelve-fingered.” She possesses the power to fly and to dream, but this empowerment makes her “not a woman” and alienated from the rest of the society and thus ‘lonely thing.” The second image is centered on a seemingly feminine image, an image of a homemaker who is highly capable in a domestic setting. Yet, the sixth line warns the reader of this misunderstood image of a traditional housewife. The third image focuses on a morally corruptive image, an image of a sexually promiscuous woman. The speaker sees herself from the viewpoint of mainstream society and defies its view by audaciously claiming that she “is not ashamed to die.” All of these images transgress the ideals of what a woman should be. The refrain -- ““I have been her kind” – gives a helping hand to all women who dare to transgress the roles of women by the society in which they live.

Note:

The poem text is from The Complete Poems by Anne Sexton. My piece is the reflection on my reading of Miriam Duffer’s work.