Though some might think Mallarme barmy
He only did it to annoy
And found in vague locution’s fusion
The sounding symbols he’d deploy
To make the sense translators wait for
A tantalisingly rare joy.
That’s not to say symbolic frolics
Had little purpose to fulfil
For murmurs like systolic colics
Showed writers’ hearts were beating still -
Though later vitriolic ball-ics
Claimed sounding phonemes authors kill.
Only, half-joking! Bill's piece did make me go and read up on Mallarme who seems to have enjoyed having it all ways and probably thoroughly relished being impossible to pin down. Apparently revered by some as one of the founts of the "death of the author" school. 'Nuff said.
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