In today’s WORK, C. D. Wright isn’t talking about (just) poetry or even (just) words, but our presence in—and our part as maker of—the world. RIP.
WORK
“I believe in a hardheaded art, an unremitting, unrepentant practice of one’s own faith in the word in one’s own obstinate terms. I believe the word was made good from the start; it remains so to this second. I believe words are golden as goodness is golden. Even the humble word brush gives off a scratch of light. There is not much poetry from which I feel barred, whether it is arcane or open in the extreme. I attempt to run the gamut because I am pulled by the extremes. I believe the word used wrongly distorts the world. I hold to hard distinctions of right and wrong. Also I think that antithetical poetries can and should coexist without crippling one another. They not only serve to define their other to a much more exacting degree than would be possible in the absence of the one or the other; they insure the persistence of heterogeneous (albeit discouragingly small) constituencies.”
—C. D. Wright
—from Cooling Time
WORD(S)
imbrue (embrue) /im-BROO/. verb. To stain or drench, particularly with blood. When speaking of a weapon, to thrust or plunge. From Old French embreuver (moisten, soak [in], dye, imbue).
“These barbarous wretches, who have imbrued their hands in so much innocent blood.” (Oliver Cromwell)
“A highly popular murder had been committed, and Mr. Wopsle was imbrued in blood to the eyebrows.” (Charles Dickens)
“I used to stand on the balcony and watch the setting sun imbrue the sky with its puce and blue-indigo stains and then fall down” (Mark Leyner)
“…it has been a sort of balm to my spirit to sit up with the King, night after night, imbrued in the royal gore, breathing it into my lungs, sopping it up with my flesh…” (Neal Stephenson)
“What! shall we have incision? shall we imbrue?
Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days!”
(William Shakespeare)
WEB
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A fascinating article that brings into focus—in a compelling way—the eternal debate about sociology, subjectivity and the problems of being a writer both inside and outside of a community → The Trials of Alice Goffman
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Shakespeare’s Plays 4-Part Venn. Combine vigorously with: all the Shakespearean deaths in a pie chart and A Visual Crash Course in All the Deaths in Shakespeare’s Tragedies.
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More big (for some nerds anyway) grammar and style news following on the heels of the singular “they.” Admitted curmudgeon Bill Walsh’s sadness is delightful. → The Post drops the ‘mike’ — and the hyphen in ‘e-mail’
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How Disney manifests its evilness through Mickey’s copyright. Not news to some readers, but the story and visuals are very good.
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Today in 1956 (according to some sources; hey, it’s a slow day), Little Richard releases his influential—even rock-and-roll-revolutionary—hit single “Tutti Frutti”. In addition to dropping at just the right moment to shock the new, mostly white rock-and-roll scene, Little Richard’s unabashed flamboyance and suggestive dancing were a perfect match for the song…whose original lyrics were: “A wop bop a loo mop a good goddam, Tutti Frutti, good booty, if it don’t fit, don’t force it, you can grease it, make it easy.”
WATCH/WITNESS
RIP Alan Rickman. Listen to Rickman read “Sonnet 130” (My mistress’s eyes are nothing like the sun…). And, at the other end of the gamut, Rickman and helium combine for a good laugh.
REPRISES/RESPONSES/REJOINDERS/RIPOSTES
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Reader B. on Murakami and Sterne: “That Murakami quote reminds me of Sterne’s hobby-horse bit from Tristram Shandy. ¶ ‘When a man gives himself up to the government of a ruling passion,—or, in other words, when his Hobby-Horse grows headstrong,—farewell cool reason and fair discretion!’”
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Reader G. keeps it simple: “best katexic [1/12/16 issue] ever!”
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Another Reader B.: “Have just read this: ‘One woman mentions in a memoir that her grandmother carried calling cards into the 1940s.’ I wanted you to know that I still use calling cards.”
I welcome comments, suggestions, thoughts, feedback and all manner of what-have-you. Just press ‘Reply’ or email to: clippings@katexic.com.
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