Plodding thru Names
Lit pit is sniffing up everybody else’s ass. Including here to some extent. And polly ticks is just an extension of it, that allows politics in.
This chap I have a narrative assemblyman — carefully balancing over time and switches, it has “breadth” in that way…
The language breathes time into it and sustains it!
Sustaining it all the way through, can be demanding on the reader. Saved for elements of surprise? that can come about with poetic integration. Rhymes breed a sense of the familiar, engagement creates it beyond that, time within it suddenly stands still, becomes what I call eternal time, where tenses condense and in that way, vanish.
Then reverbs or leaps. Never stops moving.
Thats the thing. The narrative never stops moving. It’s something picked up from good detective novels. Never stop moving… but movement is mirrored in the language not through plot — poetic tumbles’ executions are in the main, are in focus of plot itself.
Like Yeats, but wholly narrative, and there is a plot within it that engages with place and time.
Sluicy Lucy. La Fleur. When flowers begin to grown, one finds grace in it…
Thinking now about Beckett and Houllebecq, what it is that a modern literary novel — does — lets it happen and sustains it…
Engages in the doings of the writing for itself —
There is the audience to think of yes. But thats where auditors come into it for me. Since Joyce. Ear has always been plodding elsewhere as well.
So into language right now, as singular devotion its allowed…
That level of focus on the work with ears out tward… picked up by SM, and shaping it shaping it… to this day still call angel dust.
Have no shame? in regards to that now. Happily no.