My greek teacher told me over and over
Repetitio est mater memoriae
Only he wasn’t a greek teacher, just a science teacher with a love
of Greek and an excuse
to repeat with us the alphabet that runs from Alpha to Omega.
My mother would scream to me that repetition
was the mother of insanity, if one repeated expecting
different results. But she was speaking of actions,
of relationships and sacrifices repeated, of the relentless
way the phone rang with relentless attorneys on the other end
repeating hostilities from the father of insanity.
I can’t write except when I’ve got a song on repeat,
a song that’s nothing to do with my subject but everything
to do with the loop of instrumental, vocal, crescendo, fade.
Something with a chorus. Not the Greek kind
but maybe something Aristotelian, with a climax.
Gertrude Stein told me once that
Loving repeating then in some is their natural way of complete being.
Loving repeating, repeating expecting, expecting memory,
all this to say what if there is no repeating
because every time the meaning shifts a little
or the being shifts a little
and so expecting repeating, memory of repeating,
believing repeating and repeating belief is the mother
of insanity, but loving repeating
loving repeatedly
loving repetition
loving repeating
is the natural way of complete being
is the natural way
loving repeating is loving, repeating, loving.
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You won't like this, but Gertrude splits the poem into at least two heads struggling to breathe. The final stanza of this poem seems tonally and grammatically and stylistically much different than what comes before. Perhaps this you acknowledged, but I don't see it as helpful - the change is so drastic that it is either sloppy or - if completely intentional - sort of ham handed.
ReplyDeleteAs for the two poems here, the last one is spectacular. Doing anything with Stein is hard because you have to finagle a wholly distinctive voice to meet yours somewhere, and this you achieved in your harnessed and measured Romantic style.
The success of the last stanza throws into relief the earlier three as warm-ups, in a way. I think you've got some great moments and lines, and a very singular idea that is waiting to come through, but I think the repetition bit overwhelms your ability to get it out (even if it's in Latin [why, by the way, does the Greek science teacher give you a proverb in Latin?], a cliché is a cliché, and when you've got two... that's a high wire act). I also found some of the details in the first three stanzas a bit distracting in the 'this seems like a non sequitor' kind of way (Alpha to Omega, for example).
I know what you mean, but it's sorta weird to read "not the Greek kind but maybe something Aristotelian" as if he wasn't Greek.
Basically, my advice would be to use the last stanza as the centerpiece and rewrite from there. Who knows, maybe your teacher and mom and dad and song listening still end up in that poem, but they would be stylistically/emotionally framed by this wonderful single sentence. And it takes care of the cliiche problem by nodding at them yet avoiding them at the same time and firing them off at a sort of frenetically comma'd/enjambed pace.
Great stuff.
Dinah, I agree with Tim. The last stanza is amazing, and I think you should make it the centerpiece and expand its style/presence in the poem.
ReplyDeleteMaybe as an exercise you could re-write the first two stanzas like you formed the last stanza? If you wanted to keep those ideas but write them differently? ( "My mother told me once that," "My greek teacher told me once that," "I told myself once that") And then write it in the same style as the last stanza?
I love this part:
Loving repeating, repeating expecting, expecting memory,
all this to say what if there is no repeating
That last line completely recharges the enjambment and also makes this your voice and not just a mimic of Gertie.