Poems for January 23

 Snow  (cinquain by Adelaide Crapsey)

Velvet Shoes  by Elinor Wylie

Full Moon  by Elinor Wylie

True Vine by Elinor Wylie

At the Hospital  "           "

Sonnet. - untitled. "      "

Pastiche 

**
Judith  Judson prepared a "tract" on Elinor Wylie, born around the same time as Edna St. Vincent Millay, Louise Bogan and made the selection of the poems -- the Pittsford group had one more
 piece, Lament for Glasgerion.  Even Judith admitted, "it is hard to get the narrative"... 

Because Wylie had such an extensive vocabulary, which smacked of "Upper Class", often with archaic words -- (who says "forlorn" in the 20th century?)  a diamond-sharp wit with which to work impeccable form, she was not considered a poet who had more than a "thin theme" delicately
rendered.

The idea of the session, started with Judith's reaction to "Silver Filigree", selected by the New Yorker as an old chestnut

in their end of 2018 issue of selected old favorites from long ago.  It’s wonderful that she shared her passion to  "rescue" Wylie from the misdirected  classification.  It confirms my belief  in diving deeply into someone who grabs your attention!  

Perhaps others in the group might follow suit,  sharing thoughts on a poet who grabs their attention, and diving deeper

than the one or two poems we get to.  The spirit of the  group invites everyone to participate, whether or not everyone does… honoring that all  ways of responding to a poem are valid… and two-way-street- beneficial!

The Rundel group (smaller, only 6)  loved the selections.  I shared the thought of Wayne Higby on "lenses" having

seen that when Judith gave us the background of Wylie, it colored the discussion, especially of Velvet shoes.

As David responded to Judith, the New Criticism shuns biography, as interfering with the poem--

but that is at the risk of establishing a different purist  noose.

"It was a fine overview, all the better for being a fine piece of writing in itself.  It’s great value for me is that it helps me to understand some of what goes on in the verse itself.  There’s always a fine line between allowing life-stories to illuminate verse and reading them into the verse, and it takes good discipline in reading to know the difference.  I was educated in the heyday of the New Criticism, which minimized and almost banished biographical context from literary interpretation, and a few of my grad school profs exemplified just why that was important.   I had to live a while before I realized that such a view sometimes made an important principle into a purist noose.  My own literary criticism, book and many articles, makes clear the amalgam that I have come to.

Anyhow, as you might have seen from my comments yesterday, I found what you told us about EW to help with reading her poems, confirming and  expanding significantly what I saw and sensed without that knowledge.  It also helps to explain some of her stylistic tendencies, worth understanding and appreciating whether or not they happen to be one’s “‘cup of tea.”

So thanks.  I’m pleased to read at leisure what I first heard with pleasure"

Rundel's  responses were deep, thoughtful, and every poem was respected before I shared any background.  

Velvet Shoes:  the ear immediately senses the sibilance, which supports a sense of peaceful quiet... like entering

a winter ballroom... One reader felt that the last stanza, "We shall walk in velvet shoes" flipped the balance away

from the power of those able to afford such shoes, inappropriate for winter, to nature providing us with her own

velvet shoes in this magical setting of a winter ballroom.  

There is no conflict in the meter, the orderly rhyme perhaps contributes to the reputation of Wylie as a charming writer, but with little pith in the theme.  One person felt the presence of a convalescent wandering out into the night, sleepwalking,

in her flimsy shoes.

Neither group felt this.  I am intrigued by the ambiguity of "we".  Is it lovers, one in silk, one in wool, therefore, 

of different classes?  Is it a message of the importance to tread softly, with rabbit feet?  Perhaps that could be

a message about the environment... or perhaps it is a commentary about how women need to behave?

I don't find this one as "frivolous" as the critics perhaps believe. The title is intriguing.  The shift from "Let us, to

"we shall, and what the walk in the white snow snow implies for someone with such a daring personality perhaps

is not to be meek and effaced, but rather, to face the cold, the loneliness, as resolutely and relentlessly as the repeated first and last 'line .  Then again, Judith proposed that seeing too much into the critics, defending Wylie as a bonafide poet as good as any modernist applauded at the time, could be like seeing Polish Nationalism in Chopin's Nocturnes!

Comments on Full Moon:

The title invites associations with myths of this moment when werewolves appear and howling madness heretofore hidden, dictates a dangerous lunacy.  The first stanza establishes grieving... unable to get what she wants.  The Harlequin,

as mute mime, lozenges with a hint of medicine, duality ... reduced to "rigmaroles".  The walking now, is accompanied by

rage.  A ravaged, skeleton, consumed by anger.  The repression of self, to meet  the duties of mourning where  rage is not allowed.  Perhaps referring to her first husband's suicide -- or her father's, or her brother's. 

Judith:  anger only emotion women not allowed to feel, but men. yes. 

David:  current situation in politics… problem of accepting aggressive women… 

True Vine:  the multiple-syllabled adjectives, refined vocabulary may well have stirred 

resentment against her as "one of those hoity-toity intellectuals" -- and yet, the sounds,

the well-chosen words... overtones of Eve, the sense of a problem with "truth" when demands

are made to appear "perfect".  Her poem is not "pretty" but has the substance of beauty --

the rich realm of contradictions, where trouble, noble (upbringing/act) comprise life .

Normally we say, "a pack of lies" -- but here we have the "pack of truth" -- like a raggedy

savage animal... 

At the Hospital:  a narrative criticizing  a scornful youth who shuns an "untidy" man in a shabby coat, who attempts to strike up a "tragic" comradeship.  Not easy to follow the thread... a sense of victim/rescuer -- and strange idea of clutching the "little (good) man" in order not to strangle the

comely (unmoved, contemptuous, cold, dull) and sleek one.  Note, the little man and the monosyllabic adjectives, "spent and grey" whereas  the sleek seems to hiss his nature through

the description of his lip -- silent, scornful.

The rhyme is still strong... but brilliant juxtaposition of rhymes:  comradeship/scornful lip; coat/throat

to juxtapose the two men.  

It's a sonnet, but shows  depth of feeling-- a radical departure from describing neutral ground like moons, snow, metaphorical vines. 

Sonnet (untitled)

Use of word, "Motley" as noun: an incongruous mixture... 

I     Again, the juxtaposition:  feather-witted / spitted as end-line... her INvulnerable joint... 4 historical novels... countless poems, publications, fine accomplishments... that provides her arrmor.

Pastiche:  imitation.. collage... people brought in a picture of the cocatrtice -- part dragon, part rooster... a fitting title for caricatures of composite animals... and the final spitted question:

"Is there not lacking from your synthesis / someone you may occasionally miss?

Indeed... having a chance to look at what happens in the craft-level of the poetry, allows an admiration for her skill.