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semi-random irritation
Jul. 12th, 2007 03:47 ambooks about poetry that comment on 'lines you may have found difficult'.
Either they mean the writer found them difficult, in which case just say what you mean
or they mean the writer has them all figured out in their own never humble opinion and yet assumes the rest of the world is not as clever.
Readers are clever! Cleverer than stupid people who seem to miss the point of every damn poem so far.
And why do they choose so many about suicide? I'm pretty sure women have written about things that are not suicide.
There was one bit about the dichotomy between art and life, and how you can't fully participate in life because you're reflecting on it doing art
and I just scribbled angry stuff in the margins because to get to that idea they had to turn the poem exactly inside out. It was saying they burned twice as fierce! Live fire and reflection on it, both! How do they get from that to 'can't'?!
Well they started with the Lady of Shallott, is how. One of those oh no look she's dead poems. Yuck.
And there's this poem about a guy with a mirror down the middle, Gentleman of Shalot? And it had a bunch of interpretations about how divided he was and how again you can't fully live life if you're reflecting on it. But the whole point was he couldn't live if the mirror *slipped*, if he *stopped* reflecting. It was only by reflecting he became whole! Because he both lived and reflected he could do stuff, if he lost either he'd only be a half person. That's not a divide, that's the smooth integration.
They reading things all inside out so they can focus on poor lonely womens that all killed themselves. Blah! Many women don't kill themselves! And a bunch of them write poems too!
And what's the point of saying that the life of an artist ultimately leads to death.
Every life ultimately leads to death!
dummies.
... okay, that's a bunch of irritation.
There were some good poems too, but everything being said about the poems just makes me wonder how they're reading with their eyes closed.
Also there's this one "Love me for love's sake" that really annoys me, because it's like she's saying to ignore all the stuff that's actually individually her and make up this weird free floating love thing that will keep on existing even if everything about her changes. And how on earth is that the point? It's like "don't love me for me, it might wear off, invent something that's not about me at all!" So now I want to write it the other way up. Love me for me! I'll probably change and it'll all fall apart, but bugger it, everything does. Enjoy the ride in the meantime!
... poetry makes me have Opinions.
Sometimes it makes me have alliteration and rhyme too, but so far not in any way that must be inflicted on teh internets at large.
... how did it get to be four in the morning?!
Either they mean the writer found them difficult, in which case just say what you mean
or they mean the writer has them all figured out in their own never humble opinion and yet assumes the rest of the world is not as clever.
Readers are clever! Cleverer than stupid people who seem to miss the point of every damn poem so far.
And why do they choose so many about suicide? I'm pretty sure women have written about things that are not suicide.
There was one bit about the dichotomy between art and life, and how you can't fully participate in life because you're reflecting on it doing art
and I just scribbled angry stuff in the margins because to get to that idea they had to turn the poem exactly inside out. It was saying they burned twice as fierce! Live fire and reflection on it, both! How do they get from that to 'can't'?!
Well they started with the Lady of Shallott, is how. One of those oh no look she's dead poems. Yuck.
And there's this poem about a guy with a mirror down the middle, Gentleman of Shalot? And it had a bunch of interpretations about how divided he was and how again you can't fully live life if you're reflecting on it. But the whole point was he couldn't live if the mirror *slipped*, if he *stopped* reflecting. It was only by reflecting he became whole! Because he both lived and reflected he could do stuff, if he lost either he'd only be a half person. That's not a divide, that's the smooth integration.
They reading things all inside out so they can focus on poor lonely womens that all killed themselves. Blah! Many women don't kill themselves! And a bunch of them write poems too!
And what's the point of saying that the life of an artist ultimately leads to death.
Every life ultimately leads to death!
dummies.
... okay, that's a bunch of irritation.
There were some good poems too, but everything being said about the poems just makes me wonder how they're reading with their eyes closed.
Also there's this one "Love me for love's sake" that really annoys me, because it's like she's saying to ignore all the stuff that's actually individually her and make up this weird free floating love thing that will keep on existing even if everything about her changes. And how on earth is that the point? It's like "don't love me for me, it might wear off, invent something that's not about me at all!" So now I want to write it the other way up. Love me for me! I'll probably change and it'll all fall apart, but bugger it, everything does. Enjoy the ride in the meantime!
... poetry makes me have Opinions.
Sometimes it makes me have alliteration and rhyme too, but so far not in any way that must be inflicted on teh internets at large.
... how did it get to be four in the morning?!