As a teen I went to poetry slams (yes, we sometimes did violence with/to words). But I remember the first time I tried to write a poem in Spanish, a language I was learning at the time. The uncertainty of it compared to the uncertainty of writing a poem in English was new and strange and welcome where the other was not. In both cases I think I felt, “this probably sounds stupid,” but I was proud to be capable of stupid in Spanish whereas I expected unearned brilliance (or at least confident transperancy) in English. Perhaps it is worth considering oneself untutored in one’s own language (poem stuff) and how it translates to the shared tongue in which we might write or speak it to others.
I was just reading Elif Batuman's Substack—about defamiliarization! I love this and agree that poet-work is the ability to become 'untutored in one's own language'. Here's the Batuman: https://eliflife.substack.com/p/time-my-frenemy
True abundance indeed, from the fruit and the trees!🍑🍒🌲🌳
I have a hard time remembering exactly when or how I learned certain literary insights, but here are two that may be of interest in your own teaching:
1. A Romantic poetry professor my freshman year put Wordsworth, Shelley, and Keats in conversation with artist Andy Goldsworthy--about the relationship of art to nature and the transience each person grapples with. It showed me what connects people to nature across time, which at 18 I was trying to make sense of. Also, the “void” at the center of many Goldsworthy’s installations connects with the Romantics in interesting ways.
2. Poetry in translation/translating poetry opened up a whole world of questions and appreciation for me in terms of what gets prioritized: meaning, sound, rhythm, or form. In my translation MFA we all translated from other languages into English. We all workshopped the English translation while explaining the context and nuances of the original to support our choices. It was always a fascinating discussion of what “faithfulness” to the original should mean.
Looking forward to many more lovely meanderings through art, language, and Dublin!
That's beautiful, Annemarie. Thank you. I love Goldsworthy x Romantics—I can feel that. And I also love the way translation opens up the question of faithfulness, which I feel in the classroom is at the heart of my students' concerns about writing: how to be faithful to the initiating urge, the first draft, the 'main idea', etc.
Thank you for writing and sharing this genuinely lovely and deeply reflective piece of writing. I will think about your closing questions a bit and return with a thought or two worth sharing.
As a teen I went to poetry slams (yes, we sometimes did violence with/to words). But I remember the first time I tried to write a poem in Spanish, a language I was learning at the time. The uncertainty of it compared to the uncertainty of writing a poem in English was new and strange and welcome where the other was not. In both cases I think I felt, “this probably sounds stupid,” but I was proud to be capable of stupid in Spanish whereas I expected unearned brilliance (or at least confident transperancy) in English. Perhaps it is worth considering oneself untutored in one’s own language (poem stuff) and how it translates to the shared tongue in which we might write or speak it to others.
I was just reading Elif Batuman's Substack—about defamiliarization! I love this and agree that poet-work is the ability to become 'untutored in one's own language'. Here's the Batuman: https://eliflife.substack.com/p/time-my-frenemy
True abundance indeed, from the fruit and the trees!🍑🍒🌲🌳
I have a hard time remembering exactly when or how I learned certain literary insights, but here are two that may be of interest in your own teaching:
1. A Romantic poetry professor my freshman year put Wordsworth, Shelley, and Keats in conversation with artist Andy Goldsworthy--about the relationship of art to nature and the transience each person grapples with. It showed me what connects people to nature across time, which at 18 I was trying to make sense of. Also, the “void” at the center of many Goldsworthy’s installations connects with the Romantics in interesting ways.
2. Poetry in translation/translating poetry opened up a whole world of questions and appreciation for me in terms of what gets prioritized: meaning, sound, rhythm, or form. In my translation MFA we all translated from other languages into English. We all workshopped the English translation while explaining the context and nuances of the original to support our choices. It was always a fascinating discussion of what “faithfulness” to the original should mean.
Looking forward to many more lovely meanderings through art, language, and Dublin!
That's beautiful, Annemarie. Thank you. I love Goldsworthy x Romantics—I can feel that. And I also love the way translation opens up the question of faithfulness, which I feel in the classroom is at the heart of my students' concerns about writing: how to be faithful to the initiating urge, the first draft, the 'main idea', etc.
Thank you for writing and sharing this genuinely lovely and deeply reflective piece of writing. I will think about your closing questions a bit and return with a thought or two worth sharing.
🤔🤓💫