Skip to main content

The Concision And Honesty Of William Bronk

4 Poems By William Bronk And One By Shelley 



The four were selected from Bronk’s book Finding Losses, which was published by Elizabeth Press in 1976

 

                                                                                  ***

 

THE INABILITY

She wants me to say something pretty to her because

we both know the unabettable

bleak of the world. Make believe, she says,

what harm? It may be so. I can’t. I don’t.

 

The inability, not able to - or, the in-ability (the in-side of make believe)

She says, say something beautiful. You can do it - you're a writer, and, significantly, a poet, a craftsman of words

Both the woman and the speaker agree. She wants an antidote to the 'unabettable / bleak', 'make believe / what harm' (let's just pretend, it's harmless anyway) - but he 'can't' or won't

But is that an inability or a decision? 'I can't' is inability, but 'I don't' may be a choice

(what you say) 'It may be so' - the speaker is ambivalent in response to her request

Echoes of Samuel Beckett, only a complete failure in Bronk, whereas Beckett ends, if somewhat grudgingly, confusedly, on a positive –

 

You must go on. I can't go on. I'll go on.

- from The Unnamable

 

Abated - made less extreme, less serious. Unabettable (is such a word possible?) - nothing can be done to lessen the bleakness of the world. Abated is a legal term

Able - to hold or handy, inability - not holding. Ability is also a competency, a skill. The poet writes with his hand - with the stroke of a pen, with the tap of a key – it’s manual

Bleak related, etymologically, to bleach - deprive of vitality or substance

 

                                                                                  ***

 

ON BEING TOGETHER

I watch how beautifully two trees

stand together; one against one.

Not touching. Not awareness.

But we would try these. We are always wrong.

 

Two trees, standing side by side, rooted and fixed to the ground, unable to move, and yet in proximity to each other - beauty in standing together, in their spatial relation, their proximity

Imagistic poem, observational at first - how the image of the trees evoke a response in the speaker - this is where the movement is (in the response, in writing the poem)

It's the observer who draws the relation

But we also know, botanically speaking, that the trees grow side by side, sustaining and supporting each other. There's room enough for both

 

Most individual trees of the same species growing in the same stand are connected to each other through their root system … but why are trees such social beings … the reasons are the same as for human communities: there are advantages to working together.

- from The Hidden Life Of Trees (2015) by Peter Wohlleben

 

Is this the way in which the speaker sees relationships (broadly) - between two people standing together - figuratively, by extension or is it just literal? (I think not)

'Together' but also 'against' each other, 'not touching', not even aware of each other. But below, a rootedness unseen from above, felt rather than seen

In the game of relationships, we 'try (on) these' poses, these gestures and manoeuvres, a type of mimicry, and yet, 'we are always wrong'

 

Plato’s caution against poetry, the art of divine madness, where theatre (playing out) is not sufficient to convey truth

Mimesis for Aristotle was imitation of nature. We are mimetic beings, responding to an insatiable urge to create texts (art) in response to ‘reality’

Mimesis shows, whereas diegesis tells the story. Both operant in Bronk’s poems

Again, as in the first poem, there is failure in trying. The ambivalence is in thinking or acting otherwise, as if there is truth in the stories we tell ourselves and others, like the ideal of intimacy in 'Being Together'

There is also the failure and futility of believing in something that isn't the case. Bronk is uncompromising in his (version of) truth-telling. The speaker constructs another narrative in the poem

 

                                                                                  ***

 

THE RAPPORT

There’s a dead dog at Barber’s Bridge

tied to a tree and two ugly stories why.

Make your own choice; either could be.

Hearing, seeing, I believe both of them.

 

                                                                                  ***

 

Rapport - harmony, connection, agreement. Etymologically, to 'bring back'

'Rapport' sounds like 'report'. This poem is also a report of an event - what and where it happened

(At least) two 'ugly stories' about the 'dead dog' 'tied to a tree'

About death - death of the dog, speaker's relationship to death

Also about belief and credulity - either story could be true - the speaker allows for both without taking sides

How to make sense and meaning when one is confronted with death? Why do we seek an explanation after the cessation of a life? Big questions

Is coming to an understanding (rapport = agreement) is a decision, a choice? Are we not believers first then explainers (problem of confirmation bias)

2 modes of understanding – seeing (eye) and hearing (ear)

Unlike the first 2 poems, the speaker remains open to both possibilities, whereas he takes a definite route (side) in the other 2

Poem is working duality, a mode (one of many) of thought and distinction

 

                                                                                  ***

 

NAMES LIKE BARNEY CAIN’S

Two locks on the Feeder are named for him.

I have asked and nobody knows who he is.

Alexander, Alfred, Quetzalcoatl,

nobody, nowhere, never, nothing.

 

                                                                                  ***

 

About a particular place, about construction (cultural, physical) and naming (the object)

Locks and feeder of canals - to manage the passage of water, and water levels. Also an image for the undulating flow (slice and dice) of history

We don't know who Barney Cane was? But he was important enough to have this construction (locks and feeder) named in his honour. He is named alongside the more recognisable historical figures of Alexander, Alfred and Quetzalcoatl

But despite their great acts, they could not overcome death - and therefore, they all became 'nobody, nowhere, never, nothing' - no-body (transient corporeality), no-where (place), never (in time) and no-thing (no materiality)

Memory depends on remembering (re-membering, putting back together again), an act of will, in someone's mind (I remember …) or stored in a text (paper, object, electronic), waiting to be read

Failure of memory, and in the other poems, futility of action and belief. Beckett's aporia, as an irresolvable internal contradiction

 

[it is a] labyrinthine torment that can’t be grasped, or limited, or felt, or suffered, no, not even suffered

 

Great names in historical sequence -

Alexander - King of the Hellenes (birth of the West)

Alfred the Great - founder of the Anglo-Saxons (who sailed to America)

Quetzalcoatl - descent (linage) of the Mesoamerican peoples (colonised by Europeans)

 

Consider Shelley - 'My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings ... nothing beside remains' -

 

I met a traveller from an antique land,

Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,

Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,

And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,

Tell that its sculptor well those passions read

Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;

And on the pedestal, these words appear:

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay

Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare

The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

 

-- Ozymandias BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

From Academy to the Street, From Poetry To Prose

From academy to the street, from poetry to prose - Nicanor Parra – ‘My own antipoems use this blank verse. I’ve often been asked what an antipoem is and the most frequent response I’ve given, without realising  what I was saying is – “an antipoem is quite simple a dramatic utterance”, and a dramatic utterance, we would have to add, is a Shakespearean blank verse. Or rather, it is a hendecasyllable that lengthens and shortens, and that oscillates between the academy, the street and the fairground.   I’ve always worked with these elements: I’ve even managed to combine verse with eleven syllables and one with one syllable, and verses with prose. I thought it was a great invention of mine, but the Elizabethans were already working with these methods – Shakespeare used them in King Lear , where a large percentage of the work is written in prose, without us fully knowing what is verse and what is prose. This is very important: we could say that they are prosaic verses, or poetic verse’

Breaking Heads - Two Rompecabezas From Nicanor Parra

  PUZZLE by Nicanor Parra   I give no one the right. I love a piece of rag. I shift tombs back and forth.   I shift tombs back and forth. I give no one the right. I'm a ridiculous sort In the light of the sun, The plague of soda fountains Dying of rage.   I am a hopeless case, My own hairs accuse me On the bargain altar The machines give no pardons.   I laugh from behind a chair, my face fills with flies.   I am the one who can’t say what he means Talking in long rows of what.   I stutter, With my foot touches a sort of foetus.   What are these stomachs for? Who made up this mess?   It's best thing is not to let on. Thinking one thing I think something else. (Translated by W.S. Merwin) Rompecabezas   No doy a nadie el derecho. Adoro un trozo de trapo. Traslado tumbas de lugar.   Traslado tumbas de lugar. No doy a nadie el derecho. Yo soy un tipo ridículo A los rayos del sol, Azote de las fuen

The Strange and Compelling Inner Life of Clarice Lispector

Dedication - Cuando a la casa del lenguaje se le vuela el tejado y las palabras no guarecen, yo hablo When the house of language has its roof blown off and words do not shelter, I speak - fellow Latin American writer and contemporary, Alejandra Pizarnik, "Fragmentos para dominar el silencio” (Fragments to overcome silence)   ---   “ALL THE WORLD BEGAN WITH A YES. ONE MOLECULE SAID YES TO ANOTHER MOLECULE and life was born. But before prehistory there was the prehistory of prehistory and there was the never and there was the yes. It was ever so. I don’t know why, but I do know that the universe never began. Make no mistake, I only achieve simplicity with enormous effort” - From The Hour Of The Star (1977)   ---   When I read Clarice, I’m reminded of Montaigne - "I continually observe myself, I take stock of myself, I taste myself … I roll about in myself” Maurice Merleau-Ponty described Montaigne as someone who put "a consciousness astonished