•May 3, 2016 • Leave a Comment
An excerpt from my manuscript-in-progress “Disorientations” just appeared in Jim Goar’s excellent e-journal past simple.
“Disorientations” collages together—and so “disorients”—two postmodern Orientalist texts: Kent Johnson’s Doubled Flowering: From the Notebooks of Araki Yasusada, a yellowface simulation of hibakusha literature, and Roland Barthes’s Empire of Signs, a semiotic treatise based on an invented system Barthes calls “Japan.”
•April 20, 2016 • Leave a Comment
My co-translation (w/ Ignacio Infante) of the avant-gardist Vicente Huidobro has just appeared in the Boston Review. The BR is posting great new poetry content every day for the month of April. The translated excerpt comes from Huidobro’s long prose poem Sky-Quake–and it directly follows the beginning portion of Sky-Quake, which was recently published in Asymptote.
•April 19, 2016 • 1 Comment
Every day this month The Found Poetry Review is posting an experimental writing prompt by “some of the most forward thinking poets, writers and critics.” It’s part of a National Poetry Month project they’re calling “Impromptu.”
My prompt (on experimental translation) is being featured today. Here’s an excerpt from it:
When we speak of “translation” we usually refer to the process of turning a text that is written in one language into another language. But if we think about translation more broadly, we can imagine a diverse range of experimental processes that can spark new writing. All you need is to find a source text and invent a method of transforming, altering, or changing it.
To use a very recent example—Paul Legault’s Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror 2 (Fence Books, 2016) is an English-to-English translation of John Ashbery. The book is “a memory translation” in which Legault attempted to recreate Ashbery’s Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror—a volume renowned for winning the Pulitzer Prize, the National Book Award, and the National Book Critics Circle Award in 1975—by “writ[ing] down each of Ashbery’s original poems, from memory.” Ashbery’s “Grand Galop,” for instance, begins, “All things seem mention of themselves / And the names which stem from them branch out to other referents. Hugely, spring exists again.” Legault’s “Grand Galop 2,” in turn, is a kind of branching out from the original: “Everything seems to mention itself / The way people are trees of people / Connected through days as if by a force / Of some huge version of spring let out / That held us there.” Legault’s book follows the cultural logic of the sequel and the remix in order to pay homage to an influential American master, to acknowledge the extent to which contemporary poetry continues to translate Ashbery’s groundbreaking writing into a myriad of afterlives.
In terms of experimental translation, the practice of “homophonic translation” is well-known: it is translating a foreign language text by loosely imitating its sound rather than by following its sense. In homophonically translating Rimbaud’s famous sonnet “Voyelles,” Christian Bök turns the line “A noir, E blanc, I rouge, U vert, O bleu: voyelles” into “Anywhere near blank rage / you veer, oblivial.” But there are many other methods of transforming a found text.
•April 16, 2016 • Leave a Comment
This weekend’s edition of Hyperallergic includes my review of Joseph Donahue’s recent books Dark Church (Verge Books, 2015) and Red Flash on a Black Field (Black Square Editions, 2014). Both are beautiful volumes worth owning and reading. Last Sunday, I heard Joe give a brilliant paper “Acousmatic Orphism: Sounding Out Susan Howe” at the Poetics: (The Next) 25 Years Conference at the University at Buffalo, SUNY. I will certainly be looking forward to his collected book of essays.
•April 15, 2016 • Leave a Comment
The new April 2016 issue of Asymptote looks really beautiful. It has a generous excerpt from Vicente Huidobro’s bilingual long poem Sky-Quake: Tremor of Heaven, which I translated with Ignacio Infante.
•February 20, 2016 • Leave a Comment
Sherwin Bitsui at the New York State Writers Institute, University at Albany, SUNY. February 18, 2016.
Last Thursday afternoon, Sherwin Bitsui gave a fantastic reading at the University at Albany. Many thanks to the New York State Writers Institute for making the event possible. I had a chance to introduce Sherwin, and here’s a snippet of what I said:
…Bitsui’s poetry…is a poetry of metamorphosis and becoming. True to the titles of his books [Shapeshift (University of Arizona Press, 2003) and Flood Song (Copper Canyon Press, 2009)], his poetry shifts and flows as it floods the senses. It constantly revises and reshapes itself as if in response to changing conditions. At any one moment, an image or sound or motif is on the cusp of transforming into something else. This is to say that Bitsui’s poetry is best appreciated as a continuous aesthetic experience, as an experience that unfolds and unfurls within time, an experience that coalesces into nodes of graspable meaning and then expands centrifugally into new atmospheres of sense.
Sherwin read from his first two books and then shared with us a nice preview from his new manuscript called “Dissolve.”
The new poems have a wonderful crispness and elegance; their imagistic constructions–while still preserving a sense of the wildness of Flood Song–have a refinement and tightness to them. Even as the images dissolved and were overtaken by new ones, they still left a strong and lasting imprint on the mind. I also thought that Sherwin’s metaphors in “Dissolve” evoked both surprise and inevitability at the same time–certainly a magnificent feat. I’ll be looking forward to “Dissolve” with great interest!
•December 6, 2015 • Leave a Comment
“What power art thou, who from below / Hast made me rise, unwillingly, and slow, / From beds of everlasting snow?”
My review-essay, “Coldness, Concept, & Convention: On Aaron Kunin’s ‘Cold Genius,’” was published today in Hyperallergic Weekend. Cold Genius is inspired by the figure from King Arthur, a late seventeenth-century opera written by Henry Purcell and John Dryden. The Cold Genius’ signature song was memorably performed by New Wave icon Klaus Nomi (pictured above) in 1982.
Kunin’s latest poetry book is a difficult pleasure in the most positive meaning of that phrase. Here’s my last paragraph:
Kunin’s frost-pieces might not be able to fully or fluently “communicate,” but they are not products, as Ruskin says, of “heartless pains”: they, in fact, reveal the heart’s extreme vulnerability (Kunin says, “Gelid / ‘The’ heart, wrapped ‘in’ ‘a’ plastic sheet / Acknowledges / ‘The’ power ‘and’ extent ‘of love’”), its capacity to endure great pain. The poems of Cold Genius demonstrate the possibility of a formula, however unlikely, in which concept and affect, difficulty and emotion, and tradition and novelty can all coincide.