Hey guys, I'm going to be away for a bit, so don't expect to hear from me much this week or next week. I don't even know if I'll have internet access.
A few comments on Their Eyes Were Watching God:
I read the history of this book in the preface of my copy, and it's very interesting that it was unfavorably received/remembered compared to the "harsh realist" or proletarian novels, like Invisible Man. A few contexts offered for it were novels of manners of the HR, Cane, anthropology, Portrait of a Lady... very diverse. It's true that Hurston voices some opinions that I would imagine were not popular among AA writers then (or now), such as the idea that black people pull each other down, that they happily think about today rather than tomorrow, etc. I'm not sure how to redeem the first one, but I think the concept of living for today is played out beautifully with Janie. We might contrast her story with Lily Bart's -- a woman who is a curious mix of living for today and tomorrow, but who utterly lacks the ability to throw it all away and run off with Tea Cake. Of course, Selden is no Tea Cake, and that might serve as another contrast between either the novels or the black and white societies depicted. Maybe there was a white Tea Cake somewhere for Lily, but she never really meets men below her class.
That's another thing about Eyes that is very interesting -- the depiction of varying black communities and classes. After all, Janie is a "high time woman and useter things." I really enjoyed the contrast between the first setting -- the white folks' yard and Logan Killicks' farm -- and the town, and then between the town and the muck. We might also contrast our first view of the town (when Janie comes walking back into it) and Janie's first view of the town, when it's not built up. Clearly, civilization means bad things.
Modernism still confuses me... would you call Hurston a Modernist? Maybe a bit. And Faulkner is usually considered Modernist, but Hemingway? Fitz? Thoughts?
p.s. Hey, did you guys hear about the TV version they're making of Eyes, with Halle Berry? We should get together and watch it. American Reading List par-tay.
Does anyone know which poems exactly were in the 1926 The Weary Blues? The Selected Poems is (idiotically) arranged by topic, making it impossible to figure out. And the internet, strangley, seems to be no help.
The thing that gets me in Brooks is how she situates her speakers. Even her titles seem to have speakers rather than existing as mere labels (I'm thinking specifically here of "the white troops had their orders..."). There is an obvious irony in the voice behind the speaking voice of "We Real Cool," but that otherwise omnisciently wise speaker becomes somewhat more ambivalent toward the end of "the white troops": "Neither the earth nor heaven ever trembled./ And there was nothing startling in the weather." Is there a proscription for social action here? Or what about the end of "Bronzeville Woman...": "all things except herself serene:/ Child, big black woman, pretty kitchen towels." I'm not being very clear about what is confusing me here, I suppose; maybe that's due to Brooks' use of form, which can be deceptive. There is no question that she regarded herself as a poet: her first book was essentially a sonnet sequence. The demotic diction of "We Real Cool" conceals a striking use of rhythm in what might otherwise be called "free" verse.
Hughes confuses me too. I love "The Weary Blues" (it's one of my favorite all-time) -- it walks such a strange line between creation and appreciation, sympathy and voyeurism, all within this dangerously appealing rhythm and diction. "The Weary Blues" kind of embodies my main problem with Hughes, which has to do with what seems to me the exoticism of his poetry. The speaker in "The Negro Speaks of Rivers," or the Mexican Market Woman in the poem of that title: is Hughes "selling" these characters to some extent? Is this "primitivism" for the sake of satisfying a psuedo-orientalist desire for the primitive? An African mask mounted in a breakfast nook? Obviously there are some complications to this idea, most notably Hughes' use of repetition with a difference. Modifiers tend not to stick with the substantives they modify, moving away from essentializing relations. "Winter Moon" suggests the imagism in which Pound was interested, without the coyness of Pound's semicolon: Hughes here is more interested in voice, in the quality of the speaker's reaction to the image. There is something in Hughes anterior to the poet's attempt to grasp or embody it. "Harlem Night Song" also reinforces the sense of Hughes' self-conscious technique: this is a song about singing, not too far from Stevens' poetry about poetry. Language in Hughes is not for transparently creating images, but instead to serve as invocations. The medium is the message, so to speak.
I'm almost finished re-reading Wright, but I'll make a few observations. How about the use of print media in Native Son? Whatever Bigger does, he needs to read accounts of himself in the paper, most confusingly in the scene wherein he reads the paper, which talks about him reading articles for some kind of narcissistic pleasure. Synecdoche is the dominant medium here: Bigger becomes all black killers and racists, and in turn internalizes what the whites think of him.
OK I'm really tired and hungry and I want to talk about Wright, but I need some kind of prompt. What is the critical discussion on Wright? How does he fit in with Ellison?
I'm also going to be away from internet access for a while. I'll try and post next week as soon as possible. It sure is a weird week: a very strange mixture of poets. I'm looking forward to it. I'll try and call you guys this week, too.
5 Comments:
Hey guys, I'm going to be away for a bit, so don't expect to hear from me much this week or next week. I don't even know if I'll have internet access.
A few comments on Their Eyes Were Watching God:
I read the history of this book in the preface of my copy, and it's very interesting that it was unfavorably received/remembered compared to the "harsh realist" or proletarian novels, like Invisible Man. A few contexts offered for it were novels of manners of the HR, Cane, anthropology, Portrait of a Lady... very diverse. It's true that Hurston voices some opinions that I would imagine were not popular among AA writers then (or now), such as the idea that black people pull each other down, that they happily think about today rather than tomorrow, etc. I'm not sure how to redeem the first one, but I think the concept of living for today is played out beautifully with Janie. We might contrast her story with Lily Bart's -- a woman who is a curious mix of living for today and tomorrow, but who utterly lacks the ability to throw it all away and run off with Tea Cake. Of course, Selden is no Tea Cake, and that might serve as another contrast between either the novels or the black and white societies depicted. Maybe there was a white Tea Cake somewhere for Lily, but she never really meets men below her class.
That's another thing about Eyes that is very interesting -- the depiction of varying black communities and classes. After all, Janie is a "high time woman and useter things." I really enjoyed the contrast between the first setting -- the white folks' yard and Logan Killicks' farm -- and the town, and then between the town and the muck. We might also contrast our first view of the town (when Janie comes walking back into it) and Janie's first view of the town, when it's not built up. Clearly, civilization means bad things.
Modernism still confuses me... would you call Hurston a Modernist? Maybe a bit. And Faulkner is usually considered Modernist, but Hemingway? Fitz? Thoughts?
p.s. Hey, did you guys hear about the TV version they're making of Eyes, with Halle Berry? We should get together and watch it. American Reading List par-tay.
Does anyone know which poems exactly were in the 1926 The Weary Blues? The Selected Poems is (idiotically) arranged by topic, making it impossible to figure out. And the internet, strangley, seems to be no help.
Nevermind. I found a way to get the list. Ask no questions; give me a fax number if you want it.
The thing that gets me in Brooks is how she situates her speakers. Even her titles seem to have speakers rather than existing as mere labels (I'm thinking specifically here of "the white troops had their orders..."). There is an obvious irony in the voice behind the speaking voice of "We Real Cool," but that otherwise omnisciently wise speaker becomes somewhat more ambivalent toward the end of "the white troops": "Neither the earth nor heaven ever trembled./ And there was nothing startling in the weather." Is there a proscription for social action here? Or what about the end of "Bronzeville Woman...": "all things except herself serene:/ Child, big black woman, pretty kitchen towels." I'm not being very clear about what is confusing me here, I suppose; maybe that's due to Brooks' use of form, which can be deceptive. There is no question that she regarded herself as a poet: her first book was essentially a sonnet sequence. The demotic diction of "We Real Cool" conceals a striking use of rhythm in what might otherwise be called "free" verse.
Hughes confuses me too. I love "The Weary Blues" (it's one of my favorite all-time) -- it walks such a strange line between creation and appreciation, sympathy and voyeurism, all within this dangerously appealing rhythm and diction. "The Weary Blues" kind of embodies my main problem with Hughes, which has to do with what seems to me the exoticism of his poetry. The speaker in "The Negro Speaks of Rivers," or the Mexican Market Woman in the poem of that title: is Hughes "selling" these characters to some extent? Is this "primitivism" for the sake of satisfying a psuedo-orientalist desire for the primitive? An African mask mounted in a breakfast nook? Obviously there are some complications to this idea, most notably Hughes' use of repetition with a difference. Modifiers tend not to stick with the substantives they modify, moving away from essentializing relations. "Winter Moon" suggests the imagism in which Pound was interested, without the coyness of Pound's semicolon: Hughes here is more interested in voice, in the quality of the speaker's reaction to the image. There is something in Hughes anterior to the poet's attempt to grasp or embody it. "Harlem Night Song" also reinforces the sense of Hughes' self-conscious technique: this is a song about singing, not too far from Stevens' poetry about poetry. Language in Hughes is not for transparently creating images, but instead to serve as invocations. The medium is the message, so to speak.
I'm almost finished re-reading Wright, but I'll make a few observations. How about the use of print media in Native Son? Whatever Bigger does, he needs to read accounts of himself in the paper, most confusingly in the scene wherein he reads the paper, which talks about him reading articles for some kind of narcissistic pleasure. Synecdoche is the dominant medium here: Bigger becomes all black killers and racists, and in turn internalizes what the whites think of him.
OK I'm really tired and hungry and I want to talk about Wright, but I need some kind of prompt. What is the critical discussion on Wright? How does he fit in with Ellison?
I'm also going to be away from internet access for a while. I'll try and post next week as soon as possible. It sure is a weird week: a very strange mixture of poets. I'm looking forward to it. I'll try and call you guys this week, too.
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