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I don’t aspire to be Shakespeare. I’d be happy to be one of the dwarves standing on his shoulders. Even that’s a steep climb, but the climb itself can be exhilarating.
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There is no way I could ever accept that.
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N,
Presumably you posted a poem here in the hopes of getting some useful, practical feedback on it. Well, way back at the beginning of the thread, and indeed dotted throughout, hidden among your increasingly boring masochistic Shakespeare obsession, there are many sincere, thoughtful, detailed posts absolutely full of such feedback, from the general to the very specific. Maybe you could respond to, or even acknowledge, some of them. Also, one of the astute observations George Orwell makes in the excellent essay Carl linked to (which I suspect you didn't actually read) regards Shakespeare's sheer joy and curiosity about the world he was currently living in. "... how widely his thoughts ranged. He could not restrain himself from commenting on almost everything, although he put on a series of masks in order to do so. If one has once read Shakespeare with attention, it is not easy to go a day without quoting him, because there are not many subjects of major importance that he does not discuss or at least mention somewhere or other, in his unsystematic but illuminating way. Even the irrelevancies that litter every one of his plays — the puns and riddles, the lists of names, the scraps of ‘reportage’ like the conversation of the carriers in Henry IV, the bawdy jokes, the rescued fragments of forgotten ballads — are merely the products of excessive vitality. Shakespeare was not a philosopher or a scientist, but he did have curiosity, he loved the surface of the earth and the process of life... " Start with this, if you want to write. The surface of the earth and the process of life. Not clinging to the dead until they paralyse you. |
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I'm beginning to think you are young. Youth is an insufferable thing. And I disagree with your opinion that Shakespeare has no equal. I am of the opinion that for every "great" poet, artist, musician, singer, actor, etc. there are a dozen equally talented artists (some I dare say are here) that fail to achieve fame and their work goes largely unnoticed; lost in the wake of oblivion. Those who toil in relative obscurity may want to be recognized as having no equal, but it doesn't consume them. As Christine said, they kept writing anyway. Besides, there is no "best". Only different. Consensus is not the arbiter of greatness. Somebody had to be Shakespeare. So far it's not you. I'm curious: is it the turn of phrase that you are so enamored with? Or is it the transformative message concealed within it? Are you aspiring to be the bottle or the message? If it's the former, carry on with your anachronistic verbiage. If it's the latter, look around. Everything waits for you to find it. Don't let your youth overwhelm you into thinking you'll never be who you want to be. You are evolving. You wallow. I'm sorry, but you do. Read Christine's Autumn Confessional poem to see how to live comfortably in your own skin. Within this thread you've gained a trove of earnest, honest experienced advice. (I have.) There's much truth to Nemo's comments that were also echoed by others. I think Mark's point is the point you are continually overlooking in this back and forth: "...if you need to write you will write. And I really believe that you will find it so freeing when you learn to do so in your own voice." Do you also speak anachronistically? How would you order an ice cream? Maybe you're not young. Maybe you're as old as the mountains. One way or another change is coming. Dylan spoke plainly when he said, "Ah, but I was so much older then. I'm younger than that now." I hear Shakespeare in that. I think this Shakespeare thing is over-blown. "We all shine on" spoketh John Lennon Last question: why are you here? . . |
I would comment more on your poem, but let's face it. I'll never be as great a critic as Harold Bloom, so why should I bother?
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I may not understand this poem. That it's painful not to be able to use "thou" and "wert" (which I take to be the subject) doesn't interest this reader. FWIW.
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That couldn't be more on point with regard to a certain someone than if you had added "and they are orange and obsessed with crowd size."
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The sad irony is that what made Shakespeare's work great was his empathy — his ability to set aside his own ego and inhabit other points of view.
For poets whose only goal is building up their own egos by reaching for Shakespearean "greatness," while ignoring his works' empathy, the only way in which their work COULD resemble Shakespeare's is through cosmetic superficialities like copied quirks of syntax, vocabulary, and typography. |
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I don't know. If P. was banned, he's probably waving it around as a badge of martyrdom, and we don't have to put up with his contempt for us petty, two-bit poets and our petty, two-bit site rules anymore. A happy outcome for all.
The Eratosphere guidelines say: Quote:
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I have a suggestion/prompt/challenge for N. Use a couple of Shakespeare lines as an epigraph to a poem you write, but your poem must be in modern English.
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The post about narcissism has been reported as ad hominem, and is now deleted.
We really don't need detailed information about a personality disorder on a poem thead. Feelings always begin to run high whenever a member, particularly a new member, does not appear to accept criticism in the desired manner. Whilst any advice or suggestions are deemed to be 'advisory', they should still be appreciated, nonetheless, when others have taken the time and trouble to post their comments. Alex and I don't normally divulge banned members, but on this occasion I'll break with tradition. Yes, P was banned - he dared me to - so I complied. Let's confine remarks to the poem, please, or otherwise I suggest that you decline to post on this thread if you feel your comments aren't appreciated. Jayne |
Further to Jayne's sage advice, why don't we go ahead and continue a conversation on Shakespeare's supposedly unrivaled mastery in the Musing on Mastery forum?
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