tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11295909.post8242291774916729260..comments2024-02-23T03:28:33.435-05:00Comments on Culture Industry: The Grand Piano, part 1Mark Scrogginshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01431113440875342809noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11295909.post-76939371236359032122010-09-16T17:13:32.083-04:002010-09-16T17:13:32.083-04:00Mark congratulations for your excellent blog becau...Mark congratulations for your excellent blog because this is for polite people, I want to know a little bit more about Shakespeare Association because this is one of my passions, thanks so much. <a href="http://www.citratesildenafil.com/" rel="nofollow">Sildenafil Citrate </a>carlohttp://www.citratesildenafil.com/noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11295909.post-11097368900925509072007-11-22T17:22:00.000-05:002007-11-22T17:22:00.000-05:00I think I'll take the opportunity here to post my ...I think I'll take the opportunity here to post my position regarding the Grand Piano's grand pretentions. I hope it doesn't seem too out of place. <BR/><BR/>The fundamental fallacy of the Grand Piano's primary thesis--which I take to be the purpose of a "joint autobiography" about an artistic movement--is that autobiography is by its very nature a complex set of deceptions (some of them unconscious, some deliberate and self-serving). Therefore, each "take" on a vague "event" or "period" based on the presumed value of that enterprise will be in effect a necessary justification, not just of individual ego, but of the enterprise whole. <BR/><BR/>Must we accept a priori the literary importance of the "Language" phenomenon in order to appreciate what Grand Piano purports to be? Certainly there have been other movements and other manifestoes and other witnesses. Why, for instance, don't we have autobiographical excursions from Black Mountain? Or the "New York School"? With a few notable exceptions--i.e., Dawson's Black Mountain Book, which is clearly no more than a kind of tone poem evocation of the "spirit" of a place and time--none of the participants--Olson, Creeley, Duncan, Dorn, Oppenheimer, Jonathan Williams--ever felt compelled to chronicle in detail the magic of the original convocation. Could it be that they understood that such autobiographical excursions violate a primary tenet of literary taste? That such indulgence cannot justify itself except as fictionalized narcissism? Hard to say. <BR/><BR/>The unstated implication, of course, is that the synergistic value of "social" interaction now justifies what it produced, or, conversely, we are (expected) to be fascinated to find out how such important texts were facilitated in the first place.<BR/><BR/>The individual pieces--taken singly and without the pretention of their inclusion--have interest despite whatever purpose they're intended to serve. They are individual history, they are homages to friends and memory, they are formal reflections. As such, their "exclusivity" falls apart, since it only stands if the premise is accepted: I.e., what we did was important because of who we are NOW. We couldn't care less what two poets of small matter said or did to or with each other 40 or 80 or 150 years ago, unless the texts support such curiosity. It's an arrogant presumption to believe that what happened to you should be of general interest, unless your experience was in itself salutary or exotic, i.e., an adventure, an illumination, a powerful event. <BR/><BR/>Straight autobiography offered as a criticism of conduct is a well-established tradition. Autobiography offered as high adventure or witness also has a colorful history. "Joint" autobiography is a much greater gamble, since it risks disjunction, lack of verifiability, inconsistency, uncoordination, and sheer ennui. <BR/><BR/>As readers, we have every right to inquire as to the potential fruits of such an endeavor. Are we to entertain a vicarious curiosity, as with celebrity? Are we to be on the look-out for correspondences between life and art? Are we to be instructed on the formation of a successful literary coterie? Or all of these?<BR/><BR/>I submit that none of the values inherent in autobiography, as a literary form, can be shown to support a collective end. It's a fallacy.Curtis Favillehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06213075853354387634noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11295909.post-43925293775877446292007-04-12T12:54:00.000-04:002007-04-12T12:54:00.000-04:00Given the controversy currently raging around the ...Given the controversy currently raging around the "other" Norman Finkelstein (see this morning's NY Times for the latest), I probably shouldn't be posting or showing my digital face at all for awhile. But I did want to say that I may have gone off half-cocked in response to your last post, Mark, and I apologize for any crankiness. Then again, it did elicit your splendid and nuanced response, so I am grateful for that and maybe glad I gave you a little nudge.<BR/><BR/>A few considerations: "What I sense irks Norman is that many of the LPs most definitely do not promote a “big tent” picture of the avant-garde – that there are sheep & goats in the pastures they survey, & it’s not just “School of Quietude” that gets goatishly dismissed, but alternative varieties of alt-poetry..." Yes, absolutely. One case in point, since his work is much on my mind lately: Michael Heller, with his deep roots in Objectivism and contemporary philosophy, his remarkable critical instincts, his thoughtful, supple, passionate poetry, which seems to obviate the klutzy distinctions we tend to make when issues of affiliation and style get addressed. Or consider how William Bronk continually falls throught the canonical cracks.<BR/><BR/>Yes, it's true, alt-poetry however defined is still not getting the grants and "mainstream" plaudits, with rare exceptions (like Nate Mackey's recent win). And yes, narcissism or self-regard is perhaps a necessary corollary to high ambition, having a cultural impact, etc., and I can't argue with that. Besides, in the interest of full disclosure, I have written autobiographically about my literary past on a number of occasions (and since I mentioned Mike Heller, consider his splendid memoir <I>Living Root</I>). We all try to shape history, however portentous that sounds. But as you imply, in the end, it's the poetry that counts.Norman Finkelsteinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03673105579717018812noreply@blogger.com