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16 Wednesday Jan 2019
Posted in George Oppen, Uncategorized
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06 Saturday Feb 2016
Posted in George Oppen, Uncategorized
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Je ne peux pas même aujourd’hui
Tout entier me dégager
De ces hommes
Avec qui je me tenais dans des tentes en désordre,
Dans les hôpitaux et les hangars et dans les ravines des routes fustigées
D’un pays ruiné,
Parmi eux beaucoup d’hommes
Plus capables que moi
Maykut et un sergent
Nommé Healy,
Ce lieutenant aussi-
Comment oublier tout ça ? Comment parler
Lointainement de ces «gens»
Qui sont la force
Dans les murs
des villes
Dans lesquelles leurs voitures
Raisonnent comme l’histoire
En bas des avenues murées
Dans lesquelles on ne peut parler.
13 Friday Nov 2015
Posted in George Oppen, Truth
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This book is important to me. I am in a stage in which I need an Objectivist poetry that can tie my inner world to the concrete world of physical fact… and where the discovery of those facts burst in a paroxysm of emotions.
It’s definitely for me a new way to experience the opus metaphysicum and silence.
George Oppen’s embrace of silence in his work, both in the way he writes and in his philosophy, shows the influence of post-classical science and mathematics, an influence that extends to avant-garde poets writing after World War II and that situates Oppen as a key figure among them.
There is something exemplary about Oppen’s silence. In 1935 he joined the Communist party, becoming its election manager for Brooklyn a year later. His judgment was that, against the backdrop of the depression and the emergence of fascism, there were more important things to do than write poetry. This was a political decision, but it was also an aesthetic decision, in that by his silence he was declining to write the rhetorically charged, exhortative verse that then, as now, was the poet’s characteristic form of protest. More than poetry, or even politics, what mattered to Oppen was the truth of things. The truth, in the 1930s, was best arrived at politically. Political, in the sense of agitational poetry was not, in his view, true.
I had to order this George Oppen’s New Collected Poems from Australia for 62,52 AUD, I couldn’t find it elsewhere.
27 Tuesday Oct 2015
Posted in Architecture
River of our substance
Flowing
With the rest. River of the substqnce
of the earth’s curve, river of the substance
Of the sunrise, river of silt, of erosion, flowing
To no imaginable sea. But the mind rises
Into Happiness, rising
Into what is there. I know of no other
Nor have I ever witnessed it… Islands
To the north
In polar mist
In the rather shallow sea
Nothing more
But the sense
Of where we are
Who are most northerly. The marvel of wave
Even here is its noise seething
In the world; I thought that even if there were nothing
The possibility of being would exist;
I thought I had encountered
Permanence; thought leaped on us in that sea
For in that sea we breathe the open
Miracle
Of place, and speak
If we would rescue
Love to the ice-lit
Upper World a substnatial language
Of clarity, and respect.
George Oppen
27 Tuesday Oct 2015
Posted in Architecture, George Oppen
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