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Pastimes : Let's Talk About Our Feelings!!! -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: jbe who wrote (45826)	7/16/1999 11:52:00 AM
From: The Philosopher	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 108807

I am really not sure whether I personally can separate style from substance, even in poetry. I agree with nihil (sounding of trumpets, beating of drums to mark what may the event of the century) that Kipling is a superb example of compelling style and often disgraceful substance. The Ballad of East and West has little substance, but is a wonderful read. On the Road to Mandalay is sexist and racist, but wonderful poetry. Some of his other poetry is jingoistic, violently racist, and worse, but it is a sheer joy to read aloud. Another great example is from Ecclesiastes 9:11: "I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all." Simply put, all that says is "hey, man, shit happens." The substance is mundane. But the style is gorgeous.

To: jbe who wrote (45826)	7/16/1999 12:41:00 PM
From: nihil	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 108807

No, I am just saying that some poetry moves me despite the nonsense -- and when it does, it is the poetic effect -- probably right side of the brain -- rather than the meaning. Now, can the poetic effect get people to accept meaning which is ordinarily repulsive to them -- e.g. "Come live with me an be my love" (which sings beautifully) even when sung to a nasty person. That's why "Dixie" with its silly words and awful associations --- young men charging into battle to preserve slavery -- still thrills people (maybe even me and you) who ought to know better. Very hard for reasonable people to hear a well read "Recessional" (say James Earl Jones at his grittiest) without breathing quietly "How true!" The problem is that great poetry does not lie quiet on the page -- but it sings and appeals to a wired-in non-censorious amoral sense -- which makes Keats's closing "Beauty is Truth... " so jarring and so memorable.