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Hilda Doolittle (H.D.) poet (1886–1961) – The Mysteries Remain

Hdpoet c1921

“So, for once, let’s forget her beauty, and the string of amorous famous writers who sought her out. Never mind that she starred in an anti-racist silent film with Paul Robeson. Never mind she held her own throughout psychoanalysis with Freud, himself. Never mind her exotic travels, her busy androgyny, her splendid daughter, her voluntary exile abroad, her great clothes. Never mind, even, her two sublime strokes of luck: Winifred Bryher, her loyal, glorious patron, lover, and friend for some forty years; and Norman Holmes Pearson, who for thirty-plus years befriended her writing, its public relations, and its most advantageous publication.

All that is history, a done deal. What lives are the poems, and plenty of them. A fat volume of Collected Poems, which includes Sea Garden (1916), The God (1913–1917), Translations (1915–1920), Hymen (1921),Heliodora (1924), Red Roses for Bronze (1931), and Trilogy, which consists of The Walls Do Not Fall (1944), Tribute to the Angels (1944), and The Flowering of the Rod (1944), take us from 1912 to 1944. Two important books of new poems follow: Helen in Egypt (1961) and the posthumous Hermetic Definition(1972). First to last her work is shot through with brightness, streaks of lines and tunes, excited recognitions, hints of transfiguring.

H. D. is a poet who counts on her pleasure in the intense intuition it takes to unify sound and picturing. This serves her gift for co-opting ordinary phrases, making them memorable in oddly elevated ways—as she says, “realizing a self / an octave above.” She never loses her verbal music.

We can trace the development of her poems, beginning with her early Imagiste poems, which are vivid, vehement, and static; maybe, in their strained, metaphors, deliberately odd. Waves become trees. A leaf is a green stone. Poems are addressed to a storm, a twig, a moon; poems are spoken by gods, goddesses, and ancient heroes: Pygmalion, Demeter, Eurydice. Their unsituated significance comes to us chiefly through the almost liturgical stance of the poet, who takes great stylistic care to speak as though entranced.”

https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/text/shot-through-brightness-poems-h d

The Mysteries Remain by H.D. (Hilda Doolittle)

The mysteries remain,
I keep the same
cycle of seed-time
and of sun and rain;
Demeter in the grass,
I multiply,
renew and bless
Bacchus in the vine;
I hold the law,
I keep the mysteries true,
the first of these
to name the living, dead;
I am the wine and bread.
I keep the law,
I hold the mysteries true,
I am the vine,
the branches, you
and you.

H.D.’S wiki entry for more background, references and links to works: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H.D. 

HD-female-photography-white-photography

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“He was an illumination thrown upon life.”

balzac

” Specialism consists in seeing the things of the material world as well as those of the spiritual world in their original and consequential ramifications. The highest human genius is that which starts from the shadows of abstraction to advance into the light of specialism. (Specialism, species, sight, speculation, seeing all, and that at one glance; speculum, the mirror or means of estimating a thing by seeing it in its entirety)” ~ Honore de Balzac

 

Balzac was standing before the fireplace of that dear room where I have seen so many remarkable men and women come and go. He was not tall, though the light on his face and the mobility of his figure prevented me from noticing his stature. His body swayed with his thought; there seemed at times to be a space between him and the floor; occasionally he stooped as though to gather an idea at his feet, and then he rose on them to follow the flight of his thought above him. At the moment of my entrance he was carried away by the subject of a conversation then going on with Monsieur and Madame de Girardin, and only interrupted himself for a moment to give me a keen, rapid, gracious look of extreme kindness.

He was stout, solid, square at the base and across the shoulders. The neck, chest, body and thighs were powerful, with something of Mirabeau’s amplitude, but without heaviness. His soul was apparent, and seemed to carry everything lightly, gaily, like a supple covering, not in the least like a burden. His size seemed to give him power, not to deprive him of it. His short arms gesticulated easily; he talked as an orator speaks. His voice resounded with the somewhat vehement energy of his lungs, but it had neither roughness nor sarcasm nor anger in it; his legs, on which he rather swayed himself, bore the torso easily; his hands, which were large and plump, expressed his thought as he waved them. Such was the outward man in that robust frame. But in presence of the face it was difficult to think of the structure. That speaking face, from which it was not easy to remove one’s eye, charmed and fascinated you; his hair was worn in thick masses; his black eyes pierced you like darts dipped in kindliness; they entered confidingly into yours like friends. His cheeks were full and ruddy; the nose well modeled, though rather long; the lips finely outlined, but full and raised at the corners; the teeth irregular and notched. His head was apt to lean to one side, and then, when the talk excited him, it was lifted quickly with an heroic sort of pride.

But the dominant expression of his face, greater than even that of intellect, was the manifestation of goodness and kindheartedness. He won your mind when he spoke, but he won your heart when he was silent. No feeling of envy or hatred could have been expressed by that face; it was impossible that it should seem otherwise than kind. But the kindness was not that of indifference; it was loving kindness, conscious of its meaning and conscious of others; it inspired gratitude and frankness, and defied all those who knew him not to love him. A childlike merriment was in his aspect; here was a soul at play; he had dropped his pen to be happy among friends, and it was impossible not to be joyous where he was . ~ Alphonse de Lamartine

From Cosmic Consciousness, by Richard Maurice Bucke, [1901], at sacred-texts.com Chapter 12 Honoré de Balzac.

http://www.sacred-texts.com/eso/cc/cc21.htm

 

For those who read French, you can read Lamartine’s work “Balzac et ses ouevres online at https://archive.org/details/balzacetsesoeuvr00lama

 

and Honore de Balzac, by Albert Keim and Louis Lumet at Project Gutenberg http://www.gutenberg.org/files/3625/3625-h/3625-h.htm


 

Writing Against Captivity: Phillis Wheatley’s Illimitable Imagination

“One of her most interesting poems, ‘On Imagination’, employs art as a means of freeing the mind and the muse, conceptualized as a figure she calls Fancy. Her poem proposes an alternative hierarchy where Fancy acts a deity that enjoys unfettered freedom, despite the tight poetical structure of the heroic couplet form, likely read in the works of the near-contemporary and widely read British poet, Alexander Pope. In ‘On Imagination’, Wheatley constructs a liberated world outside of slavery, flying on the wings of Fancy, another word for the imagination, to free herself from the bonds imposed by Winter, an allegorical figure representing slavery.”
Follow the link for full article – Jaq

Interesting Literature

By Laura Linker

Phillis Wheatley (1753-84), an eighteenth-century black slave taught to read by her owners, composed over 100 poems in her lifetime, many of them drawing on the Bible as a source of infallible authority. The first slave to publish a book, Wheatley often urges America to repent of its participation in the slave trade. (She was also the originator of ‘Columbia’ as a term for America, which she invented in her 1776 poem ‘To His Excellency George Washington’.) Steeped in western canonical authors, including Ovid, Virgil, Shakespeare, and Milton, she draws on classical and religious allusions to challenge legal and social limitations that denigrate slaves, adopting established poetical forms only to use them as sites of resistance. Her poetry demonstrates remarkable technique and learning.

Wheatley

One of her most interesting poems, ‘On Imagination’, employs art as a means of freeing the mind and the muse, conceptualized as a figure…

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