Wednesday, September 5, 2007

School

School has started with a vengeance. Already behind in reading.

My first impression: Whitman and Dickinson were wack-jobs.

I'm sure that will change under the guidance of my professor.

The trouble with poetry is either the poet tells too much or too little. And why do we have to have narrative at all? Isn't that the novelist's (or the carny's?) domain?

8 comments:

dixiedreams said...

unless your professor's a wack-job, too. yuck yuck. i heard a fly buzz when i died!

Amy said...

Dixie! 20+ years ago when I was last in school, a professor from the south loved to recite that particular poem. Aaah hird ah flahhh boz whin aah daahd!

I better hear trumpets or Nine Inch Nails...

dixiedreams said...

remember--all of dickinson's songs can be sung to "yellow rose of texas" if all else fails.

Nin Andrews said...

I like that -wack jobs. Yep. I always resisted the writers I had to love. Sort of like lima beans.

dixiedreams said...

oh, i loooove lima beans.

Erin O'Brien said...

DO NOT change your mind about the wack jobs.

Nin, pass the succotash please.

Amy said...

What a span of things we covered here! (Reading Whitman today, hence the exclamation point!) From the Belle of Amherst to succotash!

I believe, Dixie, that you are having fun at my expense!

And Nin, you're absolutely right! How can I love Eliot (who is out of favor) and not Whitman!

And EOB: you might be interested in the fact that Whitman had the engraver enhance his crotch to look more "bulging" in an early photo! And that basically he wants to fuck the whole world!

Okay! Enough Whitman! On to the repressed sadist, Emily!

Erin O'Brien said...

Whitman was a pro-photoshop pioneer of the highest order? Nice, very nice.