Subject: Re: Mnemosyne: thinking poetization
Date: Thu, 9 Aug 2001 20:57:45 -0400


Dear List ( List, slight swaying of a boat),

"... the first was Arnault Daniel" -- Petrarch

There are others. Another is Giraut De Bornelh same time as Daniel. In all
cases there is desire for concentration, for the gathering of the dispersal
of the flame in its consumptive mode when it chases everywhere without
coming to rest in a singular object. When it does come to rest in a rare and
precious girl then the heart becomes less soft, it resolves itself on that
girl with firmness. Invariably this act of faith is described as a
surrender, a sweet drowning... The heart becomes "closed" so to speak, so to
live. The firm condensation that is a gathering becomes an intense flame
whose colors are white and blue but that is also the style of brief
portions, of passages between the visible and invisible that gets at the
gist of things with great economy of manneristic words whose courtesy pulls
back, withdraws itself and makes way for another, for you... Am I not
excusing myself from a certain kind of discourse just for you and only you?
This is what Giraut De Bornelh says on contraction in his poem 'Ans que
venia...' :

I. Before the tender new fruit appears and the over-laden bends down
branches, I implore my heart and gather it in and direct it towards
one love. Although I had scattered it through many distant lands,
I desire it now to turn back and commit itself to other work and other
conduct.

II. And I am so fresh and tender that I do not allow my mind to waver
because of obstacles or difficulties, even if I only proceed slowly
and gradually; so that I can ignore most of my preoccupations; for
I direct my energy to the task on which I fix my eyes and heart.

III. And if you are a friend to me, may what you now see or are about
to see not offend or grieve you, whoever may be in favour of it or not:
for Love burns and constrains me; and if it was formerly remote and
distant from me, now, since I turn and aspire towards this lady, it
will be fitting for me to conduct myself beneath its ensign and scorn
others.

The fascinating thing is the renounciation of authorial intentionality which
is indicated by the "Before the tender new fruit appears...". The poem does
not compose itself as a creative fruit, a complete work; but remains
steadfast in an uncreative time that makes the poet "fresh and tender", and
that, makes the poem soo sweet as if it were in an inceptual beginning, in
interminable pangs asking for mercy... imploring a favour, calling in its
reticence for the fruition of joy! His sincerity is stark in its dark
allusion to imaginative barrenness and yet the marvel is that a poem happens
who knows how.

Gulio





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