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08-13-2010, 11:29 AM
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Join Date: Aug 2007
Location: United Kingdom
Posts: 12,945
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Nicholson Baker
The Anthologist by Nicholson Baker
I’ve just read a novel by Nicholson Baker.
It took me a week for I read it with care.
The hero (the N) is a poetry-maker.
There’s lots to the point about poetry there.
It’s called The Anthologist.
I’m the apologist.
Nicholson Baker’s a regular gent.
Twenty-five dollars and worth every cent.
Anyone else read it? Except Sam, that is. I know he has. There's only one other novel, set of novels, that produces a believable poet that's Enderby by Anthony Burgess.
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08-13-2010, 11:36 AM
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Join Date: Feb 2006
Location: Saint Paul, MN
Posts: 9,656
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I think we've discussed it here somewhere, because I learned about it on the Sphere. I did read it, some months ago, and I enjoyed what the N. had to say about poetry, though I didn't always agree. (I agree about music, and not about iambic pentameter.) In the end I have trouble sympathizing well with the N.'s inability to get himself together, but I still enjoyed the book.
Let me look for that other thread.
Here it is.
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08-13-2010, 12:48 PM
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Join Date: Nov 2004
Location: Venice, Italy
Posts: 2,399
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Not read the Nicholson Baker and must do so.
As for fictional poets, I'm quite fond of Lancelot Mulliner in Wodehouse's story, "Came the Dawn". When his uncle asks him to write an advertisement for his breakfast cereals he comes up with "Darkling: a Threnody":
Black branches,
Like a corpse's withered hands,
Waving against the blacker sky:
Chill winds,
Bitter like the tang of half-remembered sins;
Bats wheeling mournfully through the air,
And on the ground
Worms,
Toads,
Frogs,
And nameless creeping things;
And all around
Desolation,
Doom,
Dyspepsia,
And
Despair.
I am a bat that wheels through the air of Fate;
I am a worm that wriggles in a swamp of Disillusionment;
I am a despairing toad;
I have got dyspepsia.
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08-16-2010, 06:49 AM
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Join Date: Mar 2009
Location: Stocksbridge. Near the Dark Peak.
Posts: 1,524
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Ha!
I told you it was good. Catch up, John. Next, read Black Swan Green by David Mitchell. Don't be put off by all the hype around Mitchell. This is his one straight-down-the-line funny, brilliant, easy to read book. You'll love it ,or I'll send you the purchase price.Steve.
Last edited by Steve Bucknell; 08-16-2010 at 07:07 AM.
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08-16-2010, 01:49 PM
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Join Date: Feb 2008
Location: Kent, UK
Posts: 2,445
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Do we consider Private Eye's E.J.Thribb to be a fictitious poet?
Lines on the Death of Chairman Mao
So.
Farewell then
Chairman Mao.
You are the
Last of the
Great revolutionary
Figures. You
And I
Had little in
Common
Except that
Like me
You were a poet.
Though how you
Found time
To write poems
In addition to
Running a
Country of
800 million people
Is baffling
Frankly.
EJ Thribb
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08-16-2010, 03:45 PM
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Join Date: Dec 2008
Location: N/A
Posts: 1,666
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Quote:
Originally Posted by John Whitworth
There's only one other novel, set of novels, that produces a believable poet that's Enderby by Anthony Burgess.
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Indeed. It was from him I learned that the best poetry is composed while evacuating the bowels,
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08-16-2010, 04:04 PM
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Join Date: Nov 2005
Location: NYC
Posts: 2,342
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In the Mulliner family, I think Charlotte's poem is a winner:
Good Gnus
When cares attack and life seems black,
How sweet it is to pot a yak,
Or puncture hares and grizzly bears,
And others I could mention;
But in my Animals "Who's Who"
No name stands higher than the Gnu;
And each new gnu that comes in view
Receives my prompt attention.
When Afric's sun is sinking low,
And shadows wander to and fro,
And everywhere there's in the air
A hush that's deep and solemn;
Then is the time good men and true
With View Halloo pursue the gnu;
(The safest spot to put your shot
is through the spinal column).
To take the creature by surprise
We must adopt some rude disguise,
Although deceit is never sweet,
And falsehoods don't attract us;
So, as with gun in hand you wait,
Remember to impersonate
A tuft of grass, a mountain-pass,
A kopje or a cactus.
A brief suspense, and then at last
The waiting's o'er, the vigil past;
A careful aim. A spurt of flame.
It's done. You've pulled the trigger,
And one more gnu, so fair and frail,
Has handed in its dinner-pail;
(The females all are rather small,
The males are somewhat bigger).
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