Monday, February 8, 2016

Alliterative Verse (The Kalevala - 1)



[Inside front title page of the "Old" Kalevala, Finnish, national epic, collection of old Finnish poems,     by Elias Lonnrot. First edition - Volume 2, 1835. Page text reads "Kalevala or the old Karelian poems about the ancient times of the Finnish people,  1st part in Helsinki 1835 Printed J.C.Frenckellin Son's & Co.]

[Allen's January 1980 class continues]

AG: Before we get onto "A Lament for the Makers", William Dunbar’s “Howl” of the 15th Century, I wanted to give out one more sample of alliterative verse. From the Kalevala?..who’ll pronouce it correctly for me? – Kavela? Kavela? Kavela? – Actually, the accent is on the first and last syllable – Kalevala- Kalevala….

“So this is a Contest of Bards between an old poet in the Kalevala district, old Väinämöinen  Old Väinämöinen his name is, and there’s a young, younger poet, Joukahainen, young punk poet who challenges this older bearded tired-out bard. And this is a Contest of Bards, which is a traditional form in almost all the world’s poetries but this is one of the funniest I’ve heard. There is… this is poem three of the Kalevala which is a Finnish national epic, which was accumulated orally over the centuries and written down in the nineteenth century by, or compiled by Elias Lönnrot,  and translated by Francis Peabody Magoun, Harvard University Press, 1963. A great translation, I originally said that the alliterative verse form was  not just English but Scandinavian. So this is like a modern version of an ancient Scandinavian form. So there’s a first statement in the first half of the line and then a counter-statement (in this case, partly repeating the first statement) because a lot of this was oral improvisation, so they’d lay out a theme and then repeat it slightly differently while they were  waiting and thinking the next theme, the next line) The…

Student: Allen?
AG: Yes
Student: (Does this involve two people?)
AG: Yeah. Yes. I think there’s a picture of it in here – of the traditional form (which
is) two guys sit on a bench, holding hands crossways, or directly, rocking back and forth to get the rhythm up, and then cap each other with lines. One will sing a line and the other will.. rephrase it, echo it, repeat it, or answer it. So it’s like musicians capping each other. The photograph’s.. maybe you can see from a distance, I don’t know, different, modern and ancient (sic). [Allen displays the photograph] - Is that visible to anybody? – sitting on a bench – sometimes on a bench, sometimes at a table. It’s almost like a variety of...what do you call that?
Student:  Arm wrestling
AG: Arm wrestling, Mind wrestling. Poem three, the plot – "Väinämöinen grows in knowledge and becomes famous. Joukahainen sets out to defeat him in a contest of wisdom and when he does not win challenges him to dual with the swords. At this the old Väinämöinen gets angry and sinks young Joukahainen down into a fen" -  ("fen", you know, "bog"?)  -  “In the fen Joukahainen,  gets sorely distressed and finally promises Väinämöinen, if he lets him go, his sister as his wife. Väinämöinen is apppeased by this and releases him from the fen".

So, they are talking, or, rather, there’s a description of them. The young kid leaves his father and mother who forbid him to go challenge the old Väinämöinen … warns him he’ll bewitch you, watch out , but (he’s so vain) and he set(s) out and on the third day he reaches Väinämöinen’ s district, and so, into the middle of the thing…. 



[Allen begins reading (starting from approximately fifty-five minutes in) from Francis Peabody Magoun's translation of  The Kalevala.] 

[Editorial note - Much of this extensive quotation has already appeared on The Allen Ginsberg Project - see here]  

"..Steadfast old Väinämöinen, eternal sage,/ was driving on his way, covering ground/ on those clearings of Väinämöinen's district, the heaths of Kalevala District./ Young Joukahainen came along, he was driving on the road in the opposite direction./ Shaft caught in shaft, trace got tangled in trace,/ hames became fast in hames, shaft-bow in butt of shaft-bow./ Therefore they then stop, stop deliberate;/ water poured from shaft-bow, vapor steamed from the shafts."

"..Old Väinämöinen asked: "Of what clan are you/ to come along foolishly, recklessly onward./ You break the bent-wood hames, the sapling shaft-bows./ you splinter my sleigh to pieces, my poor sleigh to bits."/ Then young Joukahainen/ uttered a word, spoke thus: "I am young Joukahainen/ but name your own clan;/ of what clan are you, of what crew, miserable creature?"/ . Then steadfast old Väinämöinen now told his name./ Then he managed to say: If you are young Joukahainen,/ pull over to the side. You are younger than I"

"Then young Joukahainen uttered a word, spoke thus:/ "A man's youth is small matter, his youth, his age./ Whichever of two men is better in knowledge, the stronger in memory,/ let him indeed stay on the road, let the other get off the road./ If you are old Väinämöinen, eternal singer,/ let us begin to sing, start to recite magic./ one man to test the other, one to defeat the other"/. Steadfast old Väinämöinen uttered a word, spoke thus:/ - "What can I really do as a singer, as an expert!/ I have always lived my life just on these clearings,/ on the edges of the home field, again and again have listened to the cuckoo by the house./ But, be this as it may, speak, so that I may hear with my ears:/ what do you know about most about, understand beyond other people?"/ Young Joukahainen said: "I indeed know something!/ This I know clearly, understand precisely:  [Joukahainen’s maxims] -

"A smoke hole is near a ceiling, a flame is near a fireplace./ It is pleasant for a seal to live, for a pike, dog of the water, to roll about;/ it eats the salmon around it, the whitefish beside it./ A whitefish has smooth fields, the salmon a level ceiling./ A pike spawns in the chill of night, the slobberer in bitter cold weather./ Autumns the timid, obstinate perch, swims deep./ summers it spawns on dry land, flaps about on shores./ "If this may be not enough, I have still another bit of knowledge,/ understand a certain thing:/ "The North ploughs with a reindeer,/ the South with a mare, remotest Lapland with an elk./ I know the trees of Pisa's Hill, the tall evergreens on Goblin's Crag,/ tall are the trees on Pisa's Hill, the evergreens on Goblin's Crag/. There are three strong rapids, three great lakes,/ three high mountains under the vault of this sky./ In Hame is Halla-whirlpool, in Karelia Loon Rapids./ none exceed the Vuoksi rapids (which) surpass those of Imatra" . Old Väinämöinen said: "A child's knowledge, a woman's power of memory! / It is neither that of a bearded man nor indeed of a married man./ Speak of profound origins, of unique matters."/

Young Joukahainen uttered a word, spoke thus:/ "I know the origin of the tomtit, I know the tom-tit is a bird,/ the hissing adder a snake, the roach a fish of the water/, I know iron is brittle, black soil sour,/ boiling-hot water painful, being burned by fire bad./ Water is the oldest of ointments, foam of a rapids oldest of magic nostrums,/ the Creator himself is the oldest of magicians, God the oldest of healers./ The source of water is from a mountain, the source of fire is from the heavens/, the origin of iron is from rust, the basis of copper is a crag./ A wet tussock is the oldest land, the willow the first tree,/ the foot of a tall evergreen the first habitation, a flat stone the first wretched cooking vessel."/ Steadfast old Väinämöinen uttered these words:/ "Do you remember anything more or has your foolish talk now come to an end?"/

Young Joukahainen spoke: "I remember a little more. /I remember indeed that time when I was plowing the sea,/ hoeing out the hollows of the sea, digging deep spots for fish,/ deepening the deep places in the water, putting the lily ponds in place./ overturning hills, heaping up blocks of stone./ I was already the sixth man, seventh person/, when they were creating this Earth, fashioning the sky/, erecting the pillars of the sky, bringing the rainbow,/ guiding the moon, helping the sun,/ arranging the Great Bear, studding the heavens with stars"./ Old Väinämöinen said: "You are certainly lying about this./ No one saw you when they were ploughing the sea,/ hoeing out the hollows of the sea, digging deep spots for fish,/ deepening the deep places in the water, putting the lily ponds in place./ overturning hills, heaping up blocks of stone,/ Nor were you probably seen, /probably neither seen nor heard,/ when the earth was being created, the sky fashioned,/ the pillars of the sky erected, the rainbow brought,/ the moon guided, the sun helped,/ the Great Bear arranged, the heavens studded with stars."/ 

Young Joukahainen then uttered these words: "If I do not happen to have intelligence, I will ask for intelligence from my sword./ O old Väinämöinen, big-mouthed singer!/ Proceed to measure off our swords, set out to fight a duel"./ Old Väinämöinen said: "I don't think I'm very much afraid/ of those sword of yours, your intelligence, your ice-picks, your thoughts./ But be that as it may, I will not proceed to measure swords/ with you, wretch,/ with you, miserable fellow"./ Then young Joukahainen screwed up his mouth, twisted his head around,/ clawed at his black beard. He uttered these words:/ "Whoever does not proceed to measure swords nor set out to fight a duel,/ him I will sing into a swine, change into a pig with lowered snout./ Such men I enchant, one thus, the other so. /strike dead onto a dunghill, jam into the corner of a cattle shed"./ Old Väinämöinen got angry, then got angry and felt shamed./ He began to sing, got to reciting,/ the magic songs are not children's songs, not children's songs, women's jokes;/ they are a bearded man's which not all children sing,/ nor half the boys indeed, nor one bachelor in three/ in this dreadful time, in this fleeting final age"./ Old Väinämöinen sang. Lakes splashed over, Earth shook/, copper mountains trembled, solid slabs of rock split,/ the crags flew apart, stones on the shore cracked./ He bewitched young Joukahainen. He sang sprouts onto his shaft-bow,/ a willow bush onto his hames, sallows onto the ends of his traces./ He bewitched the lovely basket sleigh. he sang it into a pond as fallen trees./ He sang the whip with the beaded lash into shore reed of the sea./ He sang the horse with the blaze to the bank of the rapid as a rock./ He sang the gold-hilted sword to the sky as flashes of lightning;/ then he sang the ornamented shaft of the crossbow into a rainbow over the waters/ then his feathered arrows into speeding hawks, / then the dog with the undershot jaw, it he sang onto the ground as rocks./ He sang the cap off the man's head into the peak of a cloudbank./ he sang the mittens off his hands into pond lilies./then his blue broadcloth coat to the heavens as a cloud patch/ the soft woolen belt from his waist into stars throughou the heavens/ He bewitched Joukahainen himself,/ sang him into a fen up to his loins,/ into a grassy meadow up to his groin, into a heath up to his arm-pits./ 

Now young Joukahainen indeed knew and realized./ he knew that he had got on the way, got on the route to a contest,/ a contest in magic singing with old Väinämöinen. /He keeps trying to get a foot free; he could not lift his foot./ However, he tried the other; here his shoe was of stone./ The young Joukahainen indeed becomes anguished,/gets into a more precarious situation. He uttered a word, spoke thus:/ "O wise Väinämöinen, eternal sage!/ Reverse your magic charm, revoke your enchantment,/ Free me from this predicament, get me out of this situation./ I will indeed make the best payment, pay the most substantial ransom"./ Old Väinämöinen said: "Well, what will you give me/ if I reverse my magic charm, revoke my enchantment,/ free you from this predicament, get you out of this situation?"/ Joukahainen spoke, "I have two vessels, two lovely boats. /One is swift in race the other transports much. Take either of these. / Old Väinämöinen spoke, "I do not really care about your vessels. I will not select any of your boats./ These I too have with every rower hauled up, every cove piled full,/ one steady in a high wind, the other that goes into a head wind".. He bewitched young Joukahainen, bewitched him still deeper in./ Young Joukahainen said, "I have two stallions, two lovely steeds./ One is better for racing, the other lively in the traces. Take either of these"./ Old Väinämöinen said, "I don't care about your horses. Don't bother me about white fetlocked horses./ These too I have, with every stall hitched full, every stable full,/ with fat as clear as water on their backbones, a pound of fat on their cruppers"./ He bewitched young Joukahainen, bewitched him still deeper in." 

(Then Joukahainen offers stallions, a hatful of gold pieces, a felt hat full of silver pieces)

"Young Joukahainen said, "Old Väinämöinen, reverse your magic words, revoke your enchantment./ I'll give you a high-peaked hat full of gold pieces, a felt hat full of silver pieces got by my father in the war, brought in from battle"./Old Väinämöinen said, "I don't care (I care nothing) about your silver pieces. I have no need, wretch, for your gold pieces./ These too I have with every storehouse crammed, every little box fully stocked./ They are gold pieces as old as the moon, silver pieces the age of the sun". /He bewitched young Joukahainen, bewitched him still deeper in. /Young Joukahainen said, "O old Väinämöinen , free me from this predicament, release me from this situation."

to be continued

[Audio for the above can be heard here, beginning at approximately fifty minutes in and concluding at approximately sixty-five-and-three-quarter minutes in]

Saturday, February 6, 2016

A William Burroughs Weekend


 [William S Burroughs - Photograph by Allen Ginsberg - © The Estate of Allen Ginsberg]

It's a William Burroughs weekend this weekend on The Allen Ginsberg Project. Our all-time most popular post here on the Ginsberg Project (sadly with little or no Ginsberg content) is this one (perhaps because of the abiding interest in Jim Morrison?) - William Burroughs music collaborations - But what about this one? - and this? - and this?

William Burroughs' distinctive Naropa readings have often featured in this space - from 1975 (with Gregory Corso) from 1976 (with Allen, Anne Waldman, and Chogyam Rinpoche),  from 1978 (with Ken Kesey) - and again in 1980, 1981,  and from 1985.

Here and here's a two-part reading from 1989

Here's Burroughs on Jack Kerouac from the 1981 Naropa  Jack Kerouac celebrations  

Here's Burroughs reading Junky

Here's more on Junky

Here's Burroughs (from back in 201o and our posting on the Yage Letters)

Here's from way back in 1961, Burroughs interviewed by Allen and Gregory for the City Lights anthology, The Journal For The Protection of All Beings  

Here's Allen interviewing Burroughs in 1980 - and again (two interviews) - here

Here's Kathy Acker interviewing Burroughs

Here's a posting on Burroughs' Cut-Ups

Here's a posting on Burroughs' home movies

William and Allen

William Burroughs' biography

A portfolio of photographs

William Burroughs on Thanksgiving

William Burroughs on Christmas

Each year we salute El Hombre Invisible and this year is no different. Previous birthday shout-outs from the Ginsberg blog - here and here and here and here

Happy 102nd birthday, William Burroughs!

Friday, February 5, 2016

Friday's Weekly Round-Up - 254



Important breaking-news (regarding an earlier posting)  - a Saudi court earlier this week overturned the death-sentence on poet Ashraf Fayadh - but hardly proposing leniency!
His new punishment? - He's sentenced to eight years in prison and eight hundred lashes, (to be carried out on sixteen separate occasions), and must formally renounce his poetry on Saudi state media. 
Needless to say, the campaign for his freedom and full exoneration vigorously continues. 

  



         [William Burroughs Photograph(s) & Allen Ginsberg - Photographs © The Estate of Allen Ginsberg] - 

William Burroughs birthday today (fitting news following such grotesquerie?)  A shout-out today and we'll be celebrating all weekend. 

 & it's Neal Cassady's birthday, incidentally, on Monday.

Here is the poster from last weekend's Cassady Birthday Bash




Wait Till I'm Dead, Allen's new book, was officially released on Tuesday


"New York to San Fran", the longest poem in the book, excerpted in the current Poetry magazine, may be read here



Our posting on another poem, "Amnesiac Thirst For Fame", may be accessed here

(and see here, for excerpts from Rachel Zucker's lively introduction)


All through the month of February, in celebration of its 75th birthday, the CVA (Centro Venezolano Americano) in Caracas (in collaboration with the bookstore, “El Buscón” & under the aegis of actor-producer, Rodolfo Alonzo), will be hosting a series of readings, accompanied by jazz and performancefocusing on the Beat Generation   

Allen Ginsberg in the Netherlands 1983 Revisited - the hommage show featuring the Mondriaan Quartet, Han Buhrs interpretating "Howl", and more (see here)  - plays Rotterdam's Arminius space this coming Thursday

The annual Allen Ginsberg Poetry Award Winners Reading in Paterson, New Jersey is tomorrow   

Marcia Resnik's photo show, Punks, Poets and Provocateurs (see also her book of the same name) opened last night in New York at the Howl Happening space. That show will be up till March 2nd. 

[Allen Ginsberg - Photograph by  by Marcia Resnik - from Punks, Poets and Provocateurs] 

Thursday, February 4, 2016

One More on "..Mayden" (Mayden via Pound)




AG: (Ezra) Pound’s analysis of poetry, which I mentioned some time before included melopoeia, which is what we’re dealing with now, the melody, rhythmic melody, phanopoeia, which I started with in the first class which was the casting of a picture on the mind’s eye, the moving-picture part of the poem, or the still picture, and then logopoeia - did anybody.. does anybody remember what logopoeia is? anybody? define logopoeia, as in Ezra Pound? - I think I mentioned it. Somebody must know?, figure it out? Melopoeia's music, Phanopoeia's picture - Logopoeia?

Student: The poetry of the idea
Peter Orlovsky: The sense of the poem?
Student: The poetry of  the the idea
AG; Yeah?  Well, what does logo(s) mean?
Student: The image?
AG: Word.  Words, yes. So, you know, so the playfulness of language of the words in "I Syng of A Mayden That Is Makeles", (you have fantastic rhythmic delicacy, so you got
melopoeia) - Do we have much phanapoeia in there? - Yeah, '"As dew in Aprille/
That fallith on the gras", as real green, you, immediately, you know, that casts a very definite picture in the mind's eye - "that fallith on the gras" - "that fallith on the flower"- "that fallith on the spray". So there is a single repeated picture-image in there that takes care of the phanopoeic movie part. Right? Is that clear?. So you got.. you got the rhythm, you got the phanopoeia, but also there is a logopoeia here, like ""I Syng of A Mayden That Is Makeles" (I sing of a maiden that is mate-less - that is "without a match", being a pun on - "without a match, without an equal", also "without a mate". So there's a kind of pun there and also it's the... as Pound described it - quote - "the dance of the intellect among words" - unquote (that's his definition for logopoeia), "dance of the intellect among words", and the subtlety among words - "King of all kings/for her son she chose" [ "to here sone che ches"] - so there's a… in addition to the melody there, there being no picture particularly (except, unless you can picture a "King of..kings", or a "son"? - but that's a very vague picture) . But what the..  the beauty there is the playfulness of the language - "King of alle kinges/for her son she chose" (she chose for her son the King of all the kings). So.. all through the poem (including "as dew in April/that falls on the grass..that falls on the flower..that falls on the spray"), the little playfulness, not only musically but with the idea or the words - "And mother and maiden/were never none but she" "Moder and maiden/Was never non but che" is pretty funny - I mean, (it) gets in your ear after a while - "Was never non but che" - So that's all the subtlety of the simple words themselves  (is that clear?) is appreciable. I mean, appreciable in the sense that everyone can see how sweet the little play of words is in here - the double-negative - Was never non but che"   - 
Just the idea of a mother and a maiden, or a maiden that is without a mate is, in itself, a play of idea and a play of words - maiden/makeless [maiden/makeles] - there's music   there but there's also kind of funny punning. "The dance of intellect among words", or playfulness and wit of words. Word-wit. Word-music, Word-wit, Word-picture.  LogopoeiaMelpoeia (melody), (and) Phanopoeia.

What does - "poeia" - mean, anyway? Anyone know Greek? - P-O-E-I-A

Student: From poesis?
AG: Right,  Poesis.   What does poesis mean? Making?
Student: Making
AG:. Making. Poesis, in Greek, making..ah, makeles..making.  So the ancient word for poetry is constructing, or making, or building, or, making,..what is making
Student: Makeles?
AG: Establishing?, affirming?
Student: Weaving?
AG: Weaving? -  But is that built into the etymology of "make" ? - Quite interesting, because, don't forget, the (William) Dunbar poem that we're going to read is (a) "Lament for the Makers" ("Lament for the Makaris"). In case anybody wondered what makeles (makeris) meant, (what) "makers" was.

And so, Melody-making,. Picture-making, Word-wit-making (or Wordsworth-making!) 
So Pound's theory of poetry is you make up pictures, and you make up music, and you make up funny words, which, if you put it right down like that is pretty easy, then it's just child's play - making up pictures, making up tunes, and making up pretty words. So, in other words, poetry really is like child's play in that way. If you take it... if you get lost in vague ideas and forget that there's any kind of  melody and rhythm and forget how funny words can be, and forget to make even a picture then naturally the poetry gets boring. or, you know, nobody wants to read it but if you stick with the picture and some music and some intelligence about the words then naturally there's something to interest,  like a little toy puzzle, to interest anyone. And if you do it in your own language, that is with your own rhythms, the way you speak, vernacular, then it's like regular speech of everyday, but all of a sudden heightened by your own intelligence of speech and mindfulness that you're putting into it - extra-picture, extra-pretty-music, and extra-sense to the words. So it's just ordinary mind heightened by a little more awareness, or intelligence, or energy, that you put into it (even more energy that you put into it) 


[Audio for the above can be heard here, beginning at approximately forty-three-and-three-quarter minutes in and concluding at approximately fifty minutes in]