Archive for February, 2020|Monthly archive page
A (post-secular) poem for Ash Wednesday
However much I was raised Catholic (and really enjoy Paolo Sorrentino’s gorgeous series The Young Pope and The New Pope), the Christian calendar orients me more mythopoetically than devotionally. Nor is the poem below as reverent (however elusively, allusively, and ironically) as Eliot’s canonical one, being more light-hearted and spontaneously post-secular. Nevertheless, I post below an Ash Wednesday poem from March End Prill (Book*hug, 2011).
Lift the flame
Luciferous hissing
blue out the lighter
Light the incenc
uous resins
crackle in the bowl
Father
Son &
Holy Ghost
Each cardinal direction
dawn morning sun
in branches
orientation
sinister
Southern Cross
Antepod
Abendland
Ol’ Rope-a
accidental occident
all that’s left’s
True North
“I believe”
Lichen yellows
Shady bark
A Timely Re-release: Peter Dale Scott reading from Minding the Darkness
Twenty years ago I got wind that Peter Dale Scott would be reading in the McGill University Library’s Rare Books Room. I had only recently discovered his work, in an excerpt from Minding the Darkness in Conjunctions, a poetry whose engagement with history and politics by means of an unabashedly citational poetics harmonized with my concerns and practice at the time, so I went.
When Scott solicited questions after his reading, I asked something like: “You have three books: the first [Coming to Jakarta] that begins by invoking three desks, at one Virgil’s Nekyia, an Inferno; then Listening to the Candle, a Purgatorio; now an old man’s Paradiso: all weaving historical, luminous details, personages modern and historical, autobiography, taking up the Tradition, all written in tercets: is there a Dantescan intertext?” to which he answered, “You, don’t go anywhere!”, an invitation to speak once all the other questions had been asked and answered. That was a fateful meeting, as Scott, the man and his work, have maintained an important place in my life and work, happily, since.
John Bertucci has now done us all the favour of uploading a video of Scott reading from that ultimate volume of his Seculum trilogy only a year after the one I attended. You can recapture an experience of Scott reading in the wake of the release of Minding the Darkness, here:
OULIPO now and then
“Oulipo turns 60, but given how much we hear about it these days, it feels more like 150″ says George Murray at Bookninja. To some of us, it seems much older.
For my part, I learned about the OULIPO and composition by means of a generative device in the early nineties, thanks to Joseph Conte’s goldmine of a study, Infinite Design: The Forms of Postmodern Poetry. Not that long after (or so it seems this morning), Christian Bök’s Eunoia appeared to equal acclaim and, well, annoyance (a book, for those who don’t know, is composed by means of a generative device, after the OULIPO).
For me, the controversy was tiresome, having read Conte’s work and, more importantly, Ernst Robert Curtius’s classic oeuvre, European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages, which details ancient and medieval modes of composition which quickly dispel any illusions the OULIPO and its epigones are avant garde. (Though I do know that matter is more complex than I allow for here).
I expressed my impatience with the whole matter, boiling Curtius’ excurses into the following poem from Ladonian Magnitudes, one among several that got up the nose of that book’s most notorious reviewer. The poem is four quatrains and a concluding line, despite WordPress’ formatting constraints…
Liposuction & Related Procedures in Antiquity
Lasus Pindar’s master made a poem sans σ and a millennium later
Nestor of Laranda in Lycia wrote an Iliad each book less a letter Tryphrodorus Aegyptus did the Odyssey
So from Baroque Spain via Peter Rega
From Fabius Planciades Fulgentius’ De aetatibus mundi et hominis λειπoγραμματoς
Hucbald’s Charles the Bald eclogue beginning every word with C one-hundred and forty six lines
Late Roman grammarians’ παρόμoιoν
O Tite, tute, Tati, tibi tanta, tyranne, tulisti a scolia for a Caracalla’s Banquet
where as Aelius Spartianus has it from his brother Geta every dish alliterated
The so-called “figure poems” τεχνoπαίγνια in the Greek Anthology
Porfyrius Optatianus rendered in Constantine’s Latin
Alcuin, Raban Maur, Sixteenth Century Hellenism followed
Pre-Alexandrian Persian lines in trees and parasols
Eusonius follows Plato’s for the Sophists logodaedalia in his Technopaegnion
Each line of one poem starting and finishing with one syllable and the last word’s the next’s first
Catalogues of single syllable limbs, gods, foods, questions “yes” or “no”
A myth crib every line turning on one syllable
Grammatomastix’s monosyllables amputated prefixes lifted from Ennius and Virgil
The “versos de cabo roto” Urganda chants before “…a certain village in La Mancha…”
James Dunnigan: new chapbook & interview

Design: Bianca Cuffaro
James Dunnigan launches his second chapbook Wine and Fire (Cactus Press, 2020) Tuesday 18 February 2020, 20h00 at the Accent Open Mic Vol. 25—Cactus Press launch, La Marche à côté, 5043 St-Denis, Montreal, Quebec. (Facebook Event page, here).
Dunnigan is also the author of The Stained Glass Sequence (Frog Hollow Chapbook Award, 2019) and was shortlisted for the Gwendolyn MacEwen Poetry Prize in 2018. His work has also appeared in CV2, Maisonneuve Magazine, and Montreal Writes. He writes in English and French, reads Latin and sells fish for a living.
You can read a series of five mini-interviews with him, here.
You can see and hear a recent reading, here.
Dunnigan is a singularly gifted young poet. If you’re in Montreal, this launch and this chapbook are not to be missed.
Critical Fragment
If we judge a writer’s worth in the first instance on their identity or character, we avoid, evade, or void the work (and, arguably, reward) of reading (which is trouble enough) and engaging the work, which is to short circuit the critical task.