Sunday Poetry XXV -- ART CHIROGRAPHY II

http://littleartmonkeys.com/Projects/Drawings/

Art chirography is all over the place (though not so easy to find via Google-image search; it's the kind of thing you stumble upon when you're not really looking for it), and a lot more common than I thought back when I posted about it some time ago (which post, by the way, is the most popular post on The Wall by a thousand percent, literally ).  A little different from concrete poetry, the chirographic side, perhaps less poetic, and in a way, more onomatopoeic, is more the word done-up to look like what the word is, like the word "car" shaped like a car (often called "word art," and more than what MS Word means by it).  A really pretty stunning example I saw recently was at my son's grade school, where there is a series of prints, artfully framed, on the walls of one hallway depicting each of the seven continents, each continent's name spelled out and shaped (like that "car" car) like the continent itself.  Of course, I think we've all done this in grade school, and even high school, art classes, but it's also a not-so-uncommon trope of graphic artists and advertisers.  While this is perhaps a stretch--more a blend of the concrete poetry and chirography--the website wordle.net is a blast to play around with, and I highly recommend it (here's what I did just a few minutes ago), if less for the artistic/literary benefit then more for just the simple addictive fun of it.

Then there's the stuff that some people call picture puzzles, my favorite of which is simply:

HOrobOD 

--or the "rebus."

***

http://callepompon.blogspot.com/2009/07/word.html
as well as some brilliant samples posted by my sister,
who's much more skilled than I am at finding stuff
like this

http://stacyloo.blogspot.com/2011/04/word-art.html

Finally, two more sources of a sort of art chirography or (ew) graphically representational words are the classic Magnetic Poetry kits and my personal preference among thesauri, of all things: Visual Thesaurus.

Alice in Wonderland VIV -- chapter 6: THE GREAT UGLY

"The Ugly Duchess," by Quentin Matsys

Perhaps because this chapter is so rife with dissectable material, perhaps because I've worked on it in three sessions, two of which were scattered with questions from confused and working students, these questions are not entirely in order of their book-ed correlates, but in the order they occurred to me.  My apologies; may the beauty (and that beauty so grounded in its Ugly) make up for my shortcomings.

1. The general lampooning of adults is targeted more specifically in this chapter at the upper class: from the treatment, by Carroll, of the invitation (how pretentious is a letter this big, at least compared to the size of those who handle it, and especially if size is ever an indicator import, or at least self-righteousness, and regarding a game a croquet, no matter whom it's with?) to the wigs getting tangled (what the heck is the importance of such things and such clothes except to boast of the owner's--the owner of the servants whose clothes the servants wear--money, to the fact that the footmen, so lowly!, are mere animals, compared to their "human" owners.  Of course, if Carroll esteems animals generally more highly than human adults, this cants it all left--or right ... or off-center.  Oh, and then once the message is delivered, the poor remaining footman is good for absolutely nothing but sitting around looking stupid!
2. However, and despite his stupid sitting, the Frog isn't stupid: "There's no sort of use in knocking, and that for two reasons.  First, because I'm on the same side of the door as you are: secondly, because they're making such a noise inside, no one could possible hear you."  However, if this Frog is so bent on appearance, which all formalities are pretty much all about in the first place, why did he bow regally to the fish, but not introduce Alice to its master?  Is this a slight against Alice, or indication of "needing to maintain appearances" bound to be reported to Queen, or something else?
3. The frog footman: "For instance, if you were inside, you might knock, and I could let you out, you know."  Another symptom of "automatic writing?"
4. What is meant by the footman's off-hand remark, "Are you to get in at all?  That's the first question, you know."  It's answer, I think, is also telling of Carroll's position here, and, to a degree, an interesting and potential point on an issue predestination (all kinds of ramifications there, especially considering the time and space of the setting!).
5. We will spend more time with the Cheshire Cat later.  A couple notes in the interim: with the exception of the court scene at the end where many characters temporarily return, the Cheshire Cat is alone in its repeated appearances; consider elements of the moon, and the cat's resemblance to the moon, and the moon's supposed influence on the sanity of those under it.
6. The treatment of the baby seems entirely contrary to anything Carroll would have believed in regarding children.  Thoughts?
7. The treatment and change of the baby is the most grotesque of the events in Wonderland (at least on this first of Alice's two trips here).  What would have happened to the baby had it staying with the Duchess?  Would it have still changed into a pig?  Why all the pepper?  Why all the hurling of every potential implement in the kitchen?  How do--if they do--all fit together?
8. In Sylvie and Bruno, Carroll evinces a distaste for boys (a distaste he did not bury in life) and compared one particularly fat, ugly boy, Uggug by name, to a prize pig.  Consider Alice's statement (and, as we're in Wonderland, Alice is of course channeling, at least to a degree, Carroll himself): "...if one only knew how to change them--" speaking of children who "might do very well as pigs."  
9. I can't quite articulate it yet, and I know there's a risk in writing before I've organized my still nascent thoughts on it:  There seems a potential connection between the letter and the pig.  Thoughts?
10. Further, what of the Ugly in this chapter?
11. "You must be [mad]," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."  More importantly: "And how do you know that you're mad?"
12. Two final, fun observations (neither of them my own):  First, I've always wondered about--and been annoyed by--the format of Tenniel's illustration of Alice looking up at the Cat in this chapter.  The missing rectangle seems so out of standard when held up to all the rest of the illustration--he doesn't accommodate text with picture shape; however, when held up against, or immediately atop of, the illustration of the cat mid-appearance on the next page it makes perfect sense. I've finally learned the intent: Carroll enjoyed the opportunity to fold the paper of the prior back to reveal the drawing of the latter (the cat, despite Alice's walking ahead, is in the same tree) to the children around him and observe Alice's complete lack of fear.  Second, "a smile without a cat" is perhaps the most subtle of Carroll's mathematical allusions, as it is an altogether apt description of pure mathematics.  (Thanks Selwyn Goodacre for the first, and Martin Gardner and Bertrand Russell for the second.)

Speak Gently

by David Bates

Speak gently! -- It is better far
To rule by love, than fear --
Speak gently -- let not harsh words mar
The good we might do here!

Speak gently! -- Love doth whisper low
The vows that true hearts bind;
And gently Friendship's accents flow;
Affection's voice is kind.

Speak gently to the little child!
Its love be sure to gain;
Teach it in accents soft and mild: --
It may not long remain.

Speak gently to the young, for they
Will have enough to bear --
Pass through this life as best they may,
'T is full of anxious care!

Speak gently to the aged one,
Grieve not the care-worn heart;
The sands of life are nearly run,
Let such in peace depart!

Speak gently, kindly, to the poor;
Let no harsh tone be heard;
They have enough they must endure,
Without an unkind word!

Speak gently to the erring -- know,
They may have toiled in vain;
Perchance unkindness made them so;
Oh, win them back again!

Speak gently! -- He who gave his life
To bend man's stubborn will,
When elements were in fierce strife,
Said to them, 'Peace, be still.'

Speak gently! -- 't is a little thing
Dropped in the heart's deep well;
The good, the joy, which it may bring,
Eternity shall tell.

Sunday Poetry XV -- Art Chirography or Concrete Poetry

second post on Art Chirography and Concrete (-ish) Poetry here

I'm not sold on the name "Art Chirography" (check the pieces yourself) as it seems generally to indicate a single word or short phrase written in such a way as to indicate an image.  Of course, this might be splitting hairs, but the idea here is that the poetry--the poem in its entirety--is shaped in such a way as to indicate visually something significant to the subject at hand.  At it's most basic, the form of the words are meant to graphically emphasize an element of the poem; at it's most abstruse (some might so obtuse -- (let's combine!: obstruse)), the picture itself (like a hieroglyph or even a "droodle") is a poetic representation of an idea.  The artistic/literary value of this particular branch of poetry is generally as critically derided as genre fiction.  So judge for yourself.  I will attempt to provide a wide variety of material for your perusal.


Swan and Shadow
by John Hollander

Dusk                               Above the                        water hang the                                          loud                                         flies                                        here                                      O so                                     gray                                    then                                  What                                A pale signal will appear                                 When                   Soon before its shadow fades                                Where              Here in this pool of opened eye                                  In us           No upon us As at the very edges                                   of where we take shape in the dark air                                     this object bares its image awakening                                      ripples of recognition that will                                        brush darkness up into light even after this bird this hour both drift by atop the perfect sad instant now                                        already passing out of sight                                       toward yet-untroubled reflection                                      this image bears its object darkening                                     into memorial shades Scattered bits of                                   light           No of water Or something across                                  water               Breaking up No Being regathered                                   soon                    Yet by then a swan will have                                     gone                              Yes out of mind into what                                      vast                                       pale                                         hush                                           of a                                             place                                               past                            sudden dark as                                       if a swan                                           sang

Concrete Cat
by Dorthi Charles

r-p-o-p-h-e-s-s-a-g-r

by E.E. Cummings

                                  r-p-o-p-h-e-s-s-a-g-r

                           who

       a)s w(e loo)k

       upnowgath

                       PPEGORHRASS

                                             eringint(o-

       aThe):l

                  eA

                      !p:

     S                                                         a

                               (r

       rIvInG                         .gRrEaPsPhOs)

                                                              to

       rea(be)rran(com)gi(e)ngly

       ,grasshopper;


frog . pond
bt Geof Huth

The Mouse's Tale
by Lewis Carroll

            Fury said to a mouse,
                 That he met in the
                        house, 'Let us
                           both go to law:
                            I will prosecute
                          you.-- Come, I'll
                         take no denial;
                       We must have
                     a trial: For
                   really this
                 morning I've
               nothing to do.'
                   Said the mouse
                         to the cur,
                           'Such a trial,
                              dear Sir, With
                                  no jury or
                                judge, would
                               be wasting
                           our breath.'
                        'I'll be
                   judge, I'll
                 be jury,'
               Said cunning
             old Fury:
                'I'll try
                  the whole
                    cause, and
                        condemn
                            you
                              to
                               death.'

If you want more like the video game controller above (and many more besides -- good and bad) just do a Google image search for "concrete poetry" (or click it).


So what do you think?  Gimmick, kitsch, or poetry?