Friday, February 10, 2006

Troubling the Colleagues

Lizette asked me to post this:

I am not familiar at all with H.D., but already in the
few poems we are reading I can see the tremendous
breadth of her work. There is the evocative,
standalone imagery--word painting--of her poems in the
Gioia/Schoerke, and then there are what I call the war
poems in the handout. I'm partial to the war poems,
owing to their narrative bent, their technical
complexity (she does all sorts of fascinating things
with her words, structure and rhyme schemes, and with
her generous--though not pedantic--allusions) and the
spiritual strands she braids in with a deft touch.

I passed a budding flower today during lunch hour,
while walking with a colleague. The buds were just
opening, and they were very pink, though I'm not an
expert on identifying flowers and couldn't begin to
guess which variety this might be. I was reminded of
"Sea Rose" and "Garden" and came to a halt, staring at
the flower and trying to remember H.D.'s images and
symbolism. I know I've passed that plot of land
countless times, but this is the first time I noticed
what was in it. I was unable to recall anything more
than a verbal approximation, and after drawing curious
looks from passers-by, and a troubled one from my
colleague, I moved on.


1 comment:

Claire said...

Experiences like that are why I love reading: the moment when you're taken outside of yourself, enlightened, allowed to see the beauty and terror in little things. You put it very eloquently -- it sounds cheesy when I say it. Thanks for sharing the moment.