The Politics of Art: Eli Mandel's Poetry and Criticism

Cover
Ed Jewinski, Andrew Stubbs
Rodopi, 1992 - 158 Seiten

Im Buch

Inhalt

Rehearsals for a Self
11
The Rhetoric of Eli Mandels Imagination
31
The Concept of Agency
53
Contexts of Fuseli Poems
71
Eli Mandel in Out of Place
93
Paradoxes of Unwritten Remains
121
DOUGLAS BARBOUR
125
By and About
131
Urheberrecht

Andere Ausgaben - Alle anzeigen

Häufige Begriffe und Wortgruppen

Beliebte Passagen

Seite 77 - A woman drew her long black hair out tight And fiddled whisper music on those strings And bats with baby faces in the violet light Whistled, and beat their wings And crawled head downward down a blackened wall...
Seite 61 - Say, here he gives too little, there too much: Destroy all Creatures for thy sport or gust, Yet cry, If Man's unhappy, God's unjust...
Seite 59 - Unheimliche; for this uncanny is in reality nothing new or foreign, but something familiar and old-established in the mind that has been estranged only by the process of repression.
Seite 61 - Go, wiser thou! and, in thy scale of sense, Weigh thy Opinion against Providence; Call imperfection what thou fanciest such, Say, here he gives too little, there too much...
Seite 77 - What was the purpose of his pilgrimage, Whatever shape it took in Crispin's mind, If not, when all is said, to drive away The shadow of his fellows from the skies, And, from their stale intelligence released, To make a new intelligence prevail?
Seite 93 - ... metaphors, could distinguish between the finest rhythms unrolled on rope or singing in a chain and knew the metrics of the deepest pools I think of him listening to the words spoken by manacles, cells, handcuffs, chests, hampers, roll-top desks, vaults, especially the deep words spoken by coffins escape, escape: quaint Harry in his suit his chains, his desk, attached to all attachments how he'd sweat in that precise struggle with those binding words, wrapped around him like that mannered style,...
Seite 75 - There is no greater Sin after the 7 deadly than to flatter oneself into an idea of being a great Poet — or one of those beings who are privileged to wear out their Lives in the pursuit of Honor — how comfortable a feel it is that such a Crime must bring its heavy Penalty?
Seite 25 - ... that streamed and sunlit room that smelled of oil and engines and crankcase grease, and especially the lemon smell of polish and cedar. Outside there were sharp rocks, and trees, cold air where birds fell like rocks and screams, hawks, kites, and cranes. The air was filled with a buzzing and flying and the invisible hum of a bee's wings was honey in my father's framed and engined mind. Last Saturday we saw him at the horizon screaming like a hawk as he fell into the sun.
Seite 14 - I'ma poor speller? Let me tell you that this has nothing to do With teaching or even the love of poetry. It is the calamity of an eyesore, a stye, A social disaster. Look for once At the real, ridiculous humped self Crouched in the unexplained interior.
Seite 97 - ... the PEI, of Anne of Green Gables. Why the Child figure? One obvious reason is that from the adult's point of view the child's vision is a vision of innocence, of a lost Eden; another way of putting this is that the child's vision — again from the adult's point of view — is of home; and that surely is the essence of what we mean by a region, the overpowering feeling of nostalgia associated with the place we know as the first place, the first vision of things, the first clarity of things.

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