I was totally intrigued by Phillis Wheatley this week. I watched some YouTube videos about her life. I found it amazing that she wrote her first poem when she was tween. It was about two men who drown at sea titled “On Messrs. Hussey and Coffin.” The poem was published on 21 December 1767 in the Newport, Rhode Island, Mercury. When I read this poem, I was intrigued because this child didn’t begin to speak, read, nor write the English language until she was eight-years-old. Her mastery of English and the level of her vocabulary at 13-years of age indicates that she was probably a genius ("On Messre...").

Did Fear and Danger so perplex your Mind,
 As made you fearful of the Whistling Wind?
 Was it not Boreas knit his angry Brow
 Against you? or did Consideration bow?
 To lend you Aid, did not his Winds combine?
 To stop your passage with a churlish Line,
 Did haughty Eolus with Contempt look down
 With Aspect windy, and a study'd Frown?
 Regard them not; — the Great Supreme, the Wise,
 Intends for something hidden from our Eyes.
 Suppose the groundless Gulph had snatch'd away
 Hussey and Coffin to the raging Sea;
 Where wou'd they go? where wou'd be their Abode?
 With the supreme and independent God,
 Or made their Beds down in the Shades below,
 Where neither Pleasure nor Content can flow.
 To Heaven their Souls with eager Raptures soar,
 Enjoy the Bliss of him they wou'd adore.
 Had the soft gliding Streams of Grace been near,
 Some favourite Hope their fainting hearts to cheer,
 Doubtless the Fear of Danger far had fled:
 No more repeated Victory crown their Heads. 
 
 
 Had I the Tongue of a Seraphim, how would I exalt thy Praise; thy Name as Incense to the Heavens should fly, and the Remembrance of thy Goodness to the shoreless Ocean of Beatitude! — Then should the Earth glow with seraphick Ardour.
 
 Blest Soul, which sees the Day while Light doth shine,
 To guide his Steps to trace the Mark divine.

 

To The Printer:
 
 Please to insert the following Lines, composed by a Negro Girl (belonging to one Mr. Wheatley of Boston) on the following Occasion, viz. Messrs Hussey and Coffin, as undermentioned, belonging to Nantucket, being bound from thence to Boston, narrowly escaped being cast away on Cape-Cod, in one of the late Storms; upon their Arrival, being at Mr. Wheatley's, and, while at Dinner, told of their narrow Escape, this Negro Girl at the same Time 'tending Table, heard the Relation, from which she composed the following Verses.
 
 --Phillis Wheatley
 
 A reader informs us that this was in a newspaper on December 21, 1767 © by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes 

(All Poetry)

I've been out of town this week celebrating the 4th of July. So, I am a little behind with my studies. I just got a chance to read Anne Bradstreet's "To My Dear and Loving Husband." Even though Anne is said to be a Puritan Woman, I think she might have been a little "hot to trot." That seventh line in the poem caught my attention, "My love is such that rivers cannot quench it"
(Bradstreet).

This week, I noticed that no one posted about Edward Taylor and his Poem. "Upon Wedlock and Death of Children." I found this poem surreal. Taylor talks about the knot that binds him to his wife and the love he has for her. Then I think he uses flowers to references his children in keeping with the "planting of the seed" metaphor. I believe he lost a few children, and the poem express his suffering. But, I think it tells of the other children that lived, and I think he completes the poem by rationalizing that the entire situation is in God's hands. All and all, I think this is a candid and honest poem (Taylor).

Works Cited

"On Messre Hussey and Coffin (Phyllus Wheatley)." All Poetry. n.d. (21 Dec. 1767). https://allpoetry.com/On-Messrs-Hussey-and-Coffin. Accessed 7 July 2018.

Bradstreet, Anne. "To My Dear and Loving Husband. The Complete Works of Anne Bradstreet. 1981. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43706/to-my-dear-and-loving-husband. Accessed 6 July 2018.

Kaplan, Aline. "Black History Month; Eight Boston States, (Picture Phillus Wheatley)." Next Phase Blog. 8 Feb. 2018. http://aknextphase.com/black-history-month-eight-boston-statues/. Accessed 7 July 2018.

Taylor Edward. "Upon Wedlock and Death of Children." Poetry Foundation. 2018, (1683).  https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46134/upon-wedlock-and-death-of-children. Accessed 6 July 2018.

Well, here we are in week two. And, I get to visit Poe again. I've always loved Poe. My Grandmother introduced me to him when I was about 14-years-old. I take delight "Annabel Lee." One of my classmates, Clifford, posted the link to The Simpsons version of the "Raven" by Poe. I had seen it before, but it was fun to visit it again. 

Emerson used the word "fagot" in his poem "Days." 
This reminded me of how words can get stereotyped within urban lingo and become politically incorrect then eventually dissipate from our language or become supercharged and take on a whole new meaning. Obviously, in this poem, Emerson means a pile of sticks. For me, this information also clarified the British definition of fag used to describe a cigarette. I can see someone referring to "fag" as one small stick out of the proverbial bundle. 

Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days, 

Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes, 

And marching single in an endless file, 

Bring diadems and fagots in their hands. 

To each they offer gifts after his will, 

Bread, kingdoms, stars, or sky that holds them all. 

I, in my pleached garden, watched the pomp, 

Forgot my morning wishes, hastily 

Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day 

Turned and departed silent. I, too late, 

Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn. 
(Emerson)

I really enjoyed the reading this week Outline of American Literature by Kathryn VanSpankeren. I liked it so much, I found the book at Amazon and bought it for my Kindle. This week, I was also surprised to read that Oliver Wendell Holmes' mother was a descendant of Anne Bradstreet (VanSpankeren).

But honestly, there is so much poetry here and so many different poets I am a little overwhelmed.
Seems as if all these Transcendental poets came from the same place. All and all, I gather that Concord, Ma. in the early 1800's was equivalent to the 1960's Haight-Ashbury.

Next week, we are supposed to look at one of these poems and write a short essay on it. I really liked the poem by Holmes titled "Contentment." I think it's amusing this tone is humble, but not that humble. He only needs one diamond. My idea of humble is no diamonds.  I found myself laughing as I was listening to the poem on YouTube. 

“Man wants but little here below”

Little I ask; my wants are few; 

I only wish a hut of stone, 

(A very plain brown stone will do,) 

That I may call my own;— 

And close at hand is such a one, 

In yonder street that fronts the sun. 

Plain food is quite enough for me; 

Three courses are as good as ten;— 

If Nature can subsist on three, 

Thank Heaven for three. Amen! 

I always thought cold victual nice;— 

My choice would be vanilla-ice. 

I care not much for gold or land;— 

Give me a mortgage here and there,— 

Some good bank-stock, some note of hand, 

Or trifling railroad share,— 

I only ask that Fortune send 

A little more than I shall spend. 

Honors are silly toys, I know, 

And titles are but empty names; 

I would, perhaps, be Plenipo,— 

But only near St. James; 

I’m very sure I should not care 

To fill our Gubernator’s chair. 

Jewels are baubles; ’t is a sin 

To care for such unfruitful things;— 

One good-sized diamond in a pin,— 

Some, not so large, in rings,— 

A ruby, and a pearl, or so, 

Will do for me;—I laugh at show. 

My dame should dress in cheap attire; 

(Good, heavy silks are never dear;)— 

I own perhaps I might desire 

Some shawls of true Cashmere,— 

Some marrowy crapes of China silk, 

Like wrinkled skins on scalded milk. 

I would not have the horse I drive 

So fast that folks must stop and stare; 

An easy gait—two forty-five— 

Suits me; I do not care;— 

Perhaps, for just a single spurt, 

Some seconds less would do no hurt. 

Of pictures, I should like to own 

Titians and Raphaels three or four,— 

I love so much their style and tone, 

One Turner, and no more, 

(A landscape,—foreground golden dirt,— 

The sunshine painted with a squirt.) 

Of books but few,—some fifty score 

For daily use, and bound for wear; 

The rest upon an upper floor;— 

Some little luxury there 

Of red morocco’s gilded gleam 

And vellum rich as country cream. 

Busts, cameos, gems,—such things as these, 

Which others often show for pride, 

I value for their power to please, 

And selfish churls deride;— 

One Stradivarius, I confess, 

Two Meerschaums, I would fain possess. 

Wealth’s wasteful tricks I will not learn, 

Nor ape the glittering upstart fool;— 

Shall not carved tables serve my turn, 

But all must be of buhl? 

Give grasping pomp its double share,— 

I ask but one recumbent chair. 

Thus humble let me live and die, 

Nor long for Midas’ golden touch; 

If Heaven more generous gifts deny, 

I shall not miss them much,— 

Too grateful for the blessing lent 

Of simple tastes and mind content!
(Holmes)

Works Cited

Emerson, Ralph Waldo. "Days" Poetry Foundation 2018. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45873/days-56d22594f3322). Accessed 14 July 2018.

Holmes, Oliver Wendell. "Contentment." Poetry Foundation. 2018. (https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44380/contentment-56d2237388193). Accessed 14 July. 2018.

Rhodora Picture. “The Rhodora by Ralph Waldo Emerson.” YouTube. 16 July 2013. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2bms8n8E7k0. Accessed 10 July 2018.

"The Raven In Popular Culture." Wiki. 2018.   https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Raven_in_popular_culture. Accessed 29 July 2018.

VanSpankeren, Kathryn. Outline of American Literature. A. J. Cornell Publications. 8 Nov. 2010. Kindle. 

In the desert 

I saw a creature, naked, bestial, 

Who, squatting upon the ground, 

Held his heart in his hands, 

And ate of it. 

I said, “Is it good, friend?” 

“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered; 

“But I like it 

“Because it is bitter, 

“And because it is my heart.”

This week, I think Crane is the writer most in tune with the Realist movement. His ironic poem "War is Kind..." emotionally stirred me as a mother with these lines, 

" Mother whose heart hung humble as a button 

On the bright splendid shroud of your son, 

Do not weep. 

War is kind" (War is Kind...23-26).

Walt Whitman appears to be straddling the bridge between Transcendental and Realism. He writes of real issues such as the assassination of Lincoln, and the diversity in the American, immigration population, but then he carries around tree twigs and goes on on tangents about birds. I think he would be a pleasant read if he cut out some of his wordiness. He was a bit difficult for me to master this week. However his "Crossing the Brooklyn Ferry" poem was a refreshing and I could relate to it since a portion of my family entered the United States through Ellis Island. 

Works Cited

Crane, Stephen. "In the Desert." Poetry Foundation. 2004, (1895). https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46457/in-the-desert-56d2265793693. Accessed 21 July 2018.

..." War is Kind Do Not Weep Maiden for War is Kind." Poetry Foundation. 2018. (1895).  https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47650/war-is-kind-do-not-weep-maiden-for-war-is-kind. Accessed 21 July 2018. 

"Exact resemblance. To exact resemblance the exact resemblance as exact 
as a resemblance, exactly as resembling, exactly resembling, exactly in 
resemblance exactly a resemblance, exactly and resemblance. For this is so. 
Because" (Stein 20-23).

I can compare it to this 1923 painting from Picasso titled "Glass and Fruit" (Picasso).

Just as Stein altered our traditional syntax, Picasso questioned our perception of a rounded fruit and a tall cylinder glass by putting these items in an abstract form. These traits are key to the Modernist era.

Although Hemingway's work was not given as an example in our readings, his name was mentioned in our book. I can see how The Old Man and the Sea resonates with the Modernist movement. The topic of the book is an everyday issue that each one of us must face. The main character is growing old. He refuses to believe his declining ability to catch Marlin is anything more than bad luck. This "bad luck" equates to "pessimism" which is a Modernistic trait. Fragmentation is a huge theme in the book. Santiago has been shunned by the other fishermen because they believe he has "the curse." His family is gone or dead, and his only friend is a young boy. He has become fragmented from traditional, social valves due to the aging process and the fact he has not has caught a fish in 84 days. Our main character finally lands a Marlin, but he can't get it into the boat. In tow, a shark eats the majority of the Marlin and Santiago views himself as a failure. When he arrives home, the village perceives him as successful and everyone feels as if his curse has been lifted. Perception is another Modernist trait (Hemingway).

Concerning The Harlem Renaissance, there was a question in our forum this week regarding the intended audience of black poets. I believe the old adage "The man with the gold makes the rules." Publishers certainly controlled the written reality of the black experience. How many black publishing companies were there in the early 1900s? Probably null to none. The black artist had to walk a fine line and try to appease the Nordic palette, but at the same time express the black experience. Another issue was the readership. During that time period, lack of education and poverty ran rampant especially in minorities. Who could afford this work? Who had the ability to read these publications? If the "work" reached the hands of the black population it would more than likely fall into the usual cultural mode of transmission by story or song. So, the ethnic poets had to aim for the Nordic bourgeois if they wanted to get published, gain fame, or receive proceeds from their work.
Cullen Countee touched on one small cultural practice that I wish he would have expanded in his poem "A Brown Girl Dead," he says the mother "pawned her ring" to help with funeral cost (Countee 5). I think there was more there; I think Countee wanted to call attention to the cultural rituals surrounding mourning and burial. The other day, I heard a black comedian say, "White people don't have to have car washes and fish fries to bury their dead. They just pay the money." I thought of Countee; maybe he was hinting at some type of difference he perceived within his culture compared to others, but, sadly, I think he held back. Maybe he was ashamed to be black or maybe he didn't think white people would understand, or maybe he was protecting his race from harsh judgment. I'm not sure, but I think Countee dropped the ball.

Works Cited

Cullen, Countee. "A Brown Girl Dead." Poemhunter. 2018 (1925). (https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-brown-girl-dead/. Accessed 5 Aug. 2018.

Hemingway, Ernest. "The Old Man and The Sea." Simon and Schuster Digital Sales. 2002 (1952). Kindle. Accessed 5 Aug 2018.

Picasso., Pablo. "Glass and Fruit." Picasso. 2009-2018. https://www.pablo-ruiz-picasso.net/work-2634.php. Accessed 5 Aug. 2018.

Stein, Gertrude. "If I told Him: A Complete Portrait of Pablo Picasso." Writing UPenn. 2018 (1924).http://www.writing.upenn.edu/~afilreis/88v/ifitoldnew.html. Accessed 5 Aug. 2018. 

                This week we are focusing on Postmodernism. American Modernism evolved from the British during the first half of the 20^th century and led into the Postmodern era that started about the middle of the century.  A trait of the Modernist movement is the correlation of reality as it relates to the perspective of the reader. Basically, we can only know what we perceive to be real, and what we perceive to be true is what is real to each individual. Therefore, Modernism gives the power to the people to control our actions thought catalyzing our perception. This school of thought grew with the Postmodernist movement into the idea that there is no objective reality for us to see in the first place. The Postmodernist also embraced the tradition that the Modernist movement rejected.

                In our reading this week, we explored the “Beat Poets.” My favorite is Allen Ginsberg. He was an extremely brave individual. He openly admitted he was gay, smoked pot and a communist during the middle of the cold war. He is either very brave or downright stupid. He set the bar for the Postmodernist poets by openly defying the values of American Society. 

                One of our readings was from Bob Dylan. Most people associate him with music. However, his musical lyrics eventually got him awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for Literature. Music being considered literature is an example of the blurred boundaries between the art forms that took place during the Postmodernist movement.

                While focusing on individualism and personal experience the Postmodernist movement gave rise to the confessional poets such as Anne Sexton, Sylvia Platt who were both chronically depressed females. Both eventually committed suicide. 

                I liked the ethnic poems of Gwendolyn Brooks. In contrast to Sexton and Platt she was upbeat, light and lively even though her work projected a dark truth. 

I loved her depiction of the “Golden Shovel” with its young rebels in the poem “We Real Cool.” I used to Emcee a poetry slam in my area. I can close my eyes and feel the rhythm and hear this being recited. There are not a lot of words in this poem, but the few Brooks chose, paint a startling illusion filled with numerous consequential themes.

                The Pool Players.

Seven at the Golden Shovel.

 

We real cool. We

Left School. We

 

Lurk late. We

Strike straight. We

 

Sing sin. We

Thin gin. We

 

Jazz June. We

Die soon.

 

Works Cited

Brooks, Gwendolyn. “We Real Cool.” Poetry Foundation. 2018 (1959).  https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/28112/we-real-cool. Accessed 12 Aug. 2018.

 

 

So this is what is what interests me about the movements of poetry. If one’s work is not part of the current movement, even though the work is good, will they be ignored by literary society?

This week we see the contemporary laureates spreading messages of equality, humanity, ecology, prevention of abuse, and world hunger, but what we haven’t discussed this week is the negative aspect of art. There are plenty of dark artists, and I don’t mean sweet, little, neurotic Emily Dickinson. I mean artists with detrimental messages impacting society in a negative way. GG Allin (1956-1993) was a musician who had a cult following. People such as him tear down society and promote animalistic anarchy. He defecated, self-mutilated, and sexually battered female audience members on stage. He had a cult-like following. His fans were so loyal they were willing to be violated at concerts by him. We didn't study any extremely, negative, cultist poets in this course. Which is sad in a way because these people both alter and threaten culture, and they shouldn't be ignored.

When I was reading about Molly Peacock I wondered if her father was alive when she published “Tell Me You Love Me.” I wonder what her sister thought of the poem. A fellow classmate and I discussed writing deeply personal poetry then stashing it back in a deep, dark draw because we feared that it might expose our raw feelings. I think Peacock was extremely brave to have put her work out there for the world to see. 
I saved American Poetry as my last class because I dread poetry, but on the whole this course has been interesting and enjoyably.