Delicious, delightful, utterly dreadly. Brought my tappy-tippers to life (so to squeak). Thanks, Movie-Starrin' Rus. Thanks, Always Fabulous Frank Man.
Hard to believe Vendler could stoop so low; but, not so impossible to understand why Dove would soar so more.
Love T'All, J/DiT p.s. M'Love Lee? Who misses you muchly? Yep :)! p.p.s. Someone called this brouhahaggle a tempest in a teapot; natch, I had to correct 'em and explain it rather more accurately constituted palaver in a pisspot . . . S'True . . . Almost as exciting as Oswald & Kinsella withdrawing their masterpieces <*ahem*> from the T. S. Eliot Prize because of hedge-fun/ds 'n' economic gains . . . sigh . . . wish we were all wealthy enough to make such grandiose gestures in the name of Poetry . . . (not) . . . Blandstanding? You got it, Pontiac!
Beware, king, if you offend a Bard, lest you become immortalized in his next satire.
(Speaking as a bard, though, my sympathies in this contretemps do not lie with Dove's choices for her anthology, and I think Vendler asked some very good questions.)
Absolutement, Art. Look no further than Christopher Marlowe's wracking o' pinioning of others prior to his horrific death in that tavern . . .
My admiration for the smack-down goes to The Atlantic and its author's presentation of both sides of this squawk-squawk squabble between the two parties. I thought the cage-match notion an inspired one (lest you think my judgment aimed at the content of the brouhahaggle and not the form in which it is presented in The Atlantic).
I like a good literary scrap as well as the next dame; but, I cannot really weigh / wade into this one without first acknowledging I have not seen the list of poets in either's anthology).
I cannot afford books, let alone postage. People who live on welfare generally find more pressing needs — Food, Heat, Hydro, Dial-Up 'Net Access (since I live in an isolated outport of Northern Ontario, The Almaguin Highlands, the only place I could afford) and, I have not even owned a television since the early nineties so know nothing of anything beyond what radio signals pull into our Hamlet of 99 peeps and one peep-squawker :) now dubbed the Local Benign Eccentic.
Oh, transportation to Food Banks? That could cost a hunnert bux; so, you're damned if you eat, damned if you don't. Occasionally, of the locals actually remembers I am alone on my own and calls me to ask if I need a ride somewhere.
(Yeah, I need a ride out of Hell; but, I don't hear no offers coming from our governments nor any of those individs who have the moolah and the lit-power to do anything correctly such as reading the actual poetry support grant applications and award nominations [if I get that far since Atwood puts her foot down hard and heavy to the medal whenever my name is mentioned, which it generally isn't, because most CanPo is afraid of some old woman past her prime living on slime-time dime of others in the States, in fact].)
OTOH, I firmly believe the entire anthologising industry across this continent corrupt and self-serving beyond comprehension (since I correlatively believe a poet works for Poetry and not the other way around).
The same nepotism and favouritism occurs in Canada.
I am blacklisted by Margaret Ondaatje and The Canada Council, for example, since I did not wholly and fully praise every book, action, word, tweet, and phoneme either "created" (even though I am not on Twitter . . . nor FaceBook for that matter). So-so what, eh? I don't care anymore. I feel good about what I create and that is why I work for one mistress and keep my eye on The Book of Eternity.
Harman Grisewood once told me, prophetically, I must not attach myself to things of this world and, for that advice, I count the horseshoes on my arse daily.
Still, it's transcontinently pandemic and I doubt anyone with the clout to put an anthology together in our current literary and socio-economic climate would do so properly and fairly, would do so putting POETRY first, would drop the fop and fawn for brains and brilliance in the field; but, I did try, during my early days and that remains my crime, my crime, my most heinous crime of all time, one for which I am punished daily by the panjandrama queens and pisspot poobahs of literature. I'd cry; but, I'm too busy trying to live and stay healthy with my weight above eighty pounds to take the time to whimper and whine.
'Sides, I'd rather die on my feet (and hope I am still able to walk at all when I do) . . .
STILL: I'd walk a mile to visit Frank or you or Lee or Bill or Ed or Maxine or . . . :).
You know you loves and admires and respects you for the work you do and not the moves you threw, eh? K . . .
:)
p.s. Word-Verite: Cryaker (I kid you not!) -- JF BLOGS ON POETRY @ TGAM'S "IN OTHER WORDS": http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/arts/books/in-other-words/ JF'S FRESH [NEVER FROZEN] WRITESITE: http://www.judithfitzgerald.ca/ FITZ LAW: "If things can go wrong, they already have."
p.s. You know who loves you (in this BITE context) and that especially and most illustriously includes one of the finest friends I have the distinct pleasure to call FRIEND, Dave Lull, a stalwart generous soul and fabulous family man who has always been there for me . . .
Hallelujah! p.p.s. I even made him a perennial birthday-greets page:
Delicious, delightful, utterly dreadly. Brought my tappy-tippers to life (so to squeak). Thanks, Movie-Starrin' Rus. Thanks, Always Fabulous Frank Man.
ReplyDeleteHard to believe Vendler could stoop so low; but, not so impossible to understand why Dove would soar so more.
Love T'All, J/DiT
p.s. M'Love Lee? Who misses you muchly? Yep :)!
p.p.s. Someone called this brouhahaggle a tempest in a teapot; natch, I had to correct 'em and explain it rather more accurately constituted palaver in a pisspot . . . S'True . . . Almost as exciting as Oswald & Kinsella withdrawing their masterpieces <*ahem*> from the T. S. Eliot Prize because of hedge-fun/ds 'n' economic gains . . . sigh . . . wish we were all wealthy enough to make such grandiose gestures in the name of Poetry . . . (not) . . . Blandstanding? You got it, Pontiac!
One is reminded of the ancient Celtic wisdom:
ReplyDeleteBeware, king, if you offend a Bard, lest you become immortalized in his next satire.
(Speaking as a bard, though, my sympathies in this contretemps do not lie with Dove's choices for her anthology, and I think Vendler asked some very good questions.)
Absolutement, Art. Look no further than Christopher Marlowe's wracking o' pinioning of others prior to his horrific death in that tavern . . .
ReplyDeleteMy admiration for the smack-down goes to The Atlantic and its author's presentation of both sides of this squawk-squawk squabble between the two parties. I thought the cage-match notion an inspired one (lest you think my judgment aimed at the content of the brouhahaggle and not the form in which it is presented in The Atlantic).
I like a good literary scrap as well as the next dame; but, I cannot really weigh / wade into this one without first acknowledging I have not seen the list of poets in either's anthology).
I cannot afford books, let alone postage. People who live on welfare generally find more pressing needs — Food, Heat, Hydro, Dial-Up 'Net Access (since I live in an isolated outport of Northern Ontario, The Almaguin Highlands, the only place I could afford) and, I have not even owned a television since the early nineties so know nothing of anything beyond what radio signals pull into our Hamlet of 99 peeps and one peep-squawker :) now dubbed the Local Benign Eccentic.
Oh, transportation to Food Banks? That could cost a hunnert bux; so, you're damned if you eat, damned if you don't. Occasionally, of the locals actually remembers I am alone on my own and calls me to ask if I need a ride somewhere.
(Yeah, I need a ride out of Hell; but, I don't hear no offers coming from our governments nor any of those individs who have the moolah and the lit-power to do anything correctly such as reading the actual poetry support grant applications and award nominations [if I get that far since Atwood puts her foot down hard and heavy to the medal whenever my name is mentioned, which it generally isn't, because most CanPo is afraid of some old woman past her prime living on slime-time dime of others in the States, in fact].)
OTOH, I firmly believe the entire anthologising industry across this continent corrupt and self-serving beyond comprehension (since I correlatively believe a poet works for Poetry and not the other way around).
The same nepotism and favouritism occurs in Canada.
I am blacklisted by Margaret Ondaatje and The Canada Council, for example, since I did not wholly and fully praise every book, action, word, tweet, and phoneme either "created" (even though I am not on Twitter . . . nor FaceBook for that matter). So-so what, eh? I don't care anymore. I feel good about what I create and that is why I work for one mistress and keep my eye on The Book of Eternity.
Harman Grisewood once told me, prophetically, I must not attach myself to things of this world and, for that advice, I count the horseshoes on my arse daily.
Still, it's transcontinently pandemic and I doubt anyone with the clout to put an anthology together in our current literary and socio-economic climate would do so properly and fairly, would do so putting POETRY first, would drop the fop and fawn for brains and brilliance in the field; but, I did try, during my early days and that remains my crime, my crime, my most heinous crime of all time, one for which I am punished daily by the panjandrama queens and pisspot poobahs of literature. I'd cry; but, I'm too busy trying to live and stay healthy with my weight above eighty pounds to take the time to whimper and whine.
'Sides, I'd rather die on my feet (and hope I am still able to walk at all when I do) . . .
STILL: I'd walk a mile to visit Frank or you or Lee or Bill or Ed or Maxine or . . . :).
You know you loves and admires and respects you for the work you do and not the moves you threw, eh? K . . .
:)
p.s. Word-Verite: Cryaker (I kid you not!)
--
JF BLOGS ON POETRY @ TGAM'S "IN OTHER WORDS":
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/arts/books/in-other-words/
JF'S FRESH [NEVER FROZEN] WRITESITE:
http://www.judithfitzgerald.ca/
FITZ LAW:
"If things can go wrong, they already have."
p.s. You know who loves you (in this BITE context) and that especially and most illustriously includes one of the finest friends I have the distinct pleasure to call FRIEND, Dave Lull, a stalwart generous soul and fabulous family man who has always been there for me . . .
ReplyDeleteHallelujah!
p.p.s. I even made him a perennial birthday-greets page:
http://www.judithfitzgerald.ca/davelull.html