A student's working on a program that identifies poetic forms and produces stats. Later it will looks at irregular sound effects too. The program should be freely available this summer. A progress report is on
http://www2.eng.cam.ac.uk/~tpl/sprit/
Comments and suggestions welcomed.

One of the "forms" it detects is free-verse's "Boxed Form" - a poem of at least 3 stanzas where all lines are roughly the same length and all stanzas (except perhaps the final one) have the same number of lines. Line-length tolerance is adjustable: by default it's 20%.

There was an article in a recent New Yorker (I think) about a system for analyzing new recorded music to predict whether it will sell. It's pretty accurate, apparently. That's a little different deal from this, of course, but it seems pretty likely that there are patterns to which we respond but of which we're not altogether aware.
I suppose the great limitation is that such an analysis is inherently conservative; that is, it can work only from what has already been judged, and really only from a small subset of that, the part that has been programed into it. The analysis couldn't say anything useful about Whitman, say, or Dickinson. Of course, neither could very many of the critics of their day.
Richard

I remember a Ray Bradbury or Isaac Asimov short story about the discovery of a pattern of sounds that would ameliorate depression, and it turned out that the pattern was essentially the same as that of "When the Saints Go Marching In".

Julie Stoner

LOLOLOL!

And what is the point of all of this? Is there some personal vendetta against boxed forms?

All forms are boxes.

But maybe they're dress patterns too.

I don't know. Do you?

it seems pretty likely that there are patterns to which we respond but of which we're not altogether aware. - I didn't realise that The Red Wheelbarrow was in a strict form until the word-count/line form was pointed out to me. I'm often not aware of syllabics either. I'm not sure I respond to such patterns even when I am aware of them, but at least this program will spare me the effort of counting. It now detects Sestinas too. They've passed unnoticed by some people on Erato in the past.

And what is the point of all of this? - So that kids doing homework don't have to remember the difference between Shakespearian and Spenserian sonnets. So that students can easily find out whether Shakespeare's lines became less end-stopped as he got older, or whether Whitman's lines grew shorter. So that I don't have to count so much.

LOL - good point! I love it!

Sherri

You might want to consider the point Tim, that if kids doing homework read through tons and tons of Shakespeare and Whitman to develop their own sense of how the lines were handled, and consequently were indirectly encouraged to reflect on how they would work with line lengths and line breaks; and that through all this bits and shards of that poetry stuck in the odd corners of their brain cells - that in time this is what turns some of us into poets instead of bean counters.

As a determined poet in this life (I was definitely a bean counter of sorts in my previous life, and am sick of it), I feel that studies of this nature are essentially of interest and importance to those who make studies of this nature, but not to those whose main interest is writing poetry; and that too much ingestion of theory and line-length statistics at an early age can be injurious to one's ability to ever produce poetry that soars and explores, that listens to itself, that uses language as a weapon. Excessive navel-gazing seems to lead to internalization, over-intellectualization, and often incomprehension; but I don't see where it produces better poetry.

Michael



[This message has been edited by Michael Cantor (edited March 07, 2007).]

Five or six years ago NOVA did a show about how people regognized and felt about certain sound changes. They got it down to a very simple device of rising and falling pitches much like the old therimen (sp?). The end result was ALL people responded the same way to the same sounds: Happy -- Sad. They tested intellectuals all the way to natives of Australia.

Dick

Dick: The end result was ALL people responded the same way to the same sounds - it's depressing, and it gets worse. I read once that the chord changes which give music lovers goosebumps also raise chicken's feathers. This is the "Opinions & Criticism" board, so here's my opinion: When something affects people in ways they can't explain, their reaction depends on the context and their personality. When the cause is "Art", the effect is sometimes described as "inexpressible", a term which for some people can lead to "aesthetic" or even "spiritual". But for an old cynic like me, "inexpressible" as often leads downward (back through evolution) rather than upward. The effect is still "deep", and valuable, but for me lacks a halo.

Michael: I feel that studies of this nature are essentially of interest and importance to those who make studies of this nature, but not to those whose main interest is writing poetry - agreed. I've only found theory useful when

• it helps me begin to appreciate something that's otherwise too alien for me to get a handle on
• it helps me understand the source of my prejudices, limitations and misconceptions
• I can use it to debunk the un-thought-through theories of others. Statistics can debunk the pretentious/opinionated crap produced by lazy theorists and critics alike.
• I can use it as an alternative to reading the source material (a poor alternative of course, but sometimes all I have time for)
• it comes up with quirkly findings that I can use - a study of verbs in poetry showed that "The great change in the last five centuries is the loss of 'find', 'tell', 'think', and the gain of 'hear', 'fall', 'lie'"

nyctom: Is there some personal vendetta against boxed forms? - not that I know of. I mentioned that particular version because though it's common, I had it invent a name for it. Neither have I seen a description of the kinds of content or FX that it particularly suits.

I don't find it at all despressing that our esthetic responses lead down and back, to our more primitive selves. It isn't surprising, either. The primordial rhythms of breath and pulse, of walking and working, and of the world in which we evolved (days, seasons) lie beneath the rhythms of poetry and music. Simple delight in sound comes before our comprehension. And who's to say that the forms through which we evolved weren't also transcendent? I'm all in favor of intellectual matters, but they're a pretty late addition, a fillip to our more substantial being.
Richard