Showing posts with label poet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poet. Show all posts

Friday, 18 September 2015

Poe and Psychoanalysis

When I first came across the works by Edgar Allan Poe truly, I was confused. It was during my first year at university through the first semester. I had come across ‘The Fall of the House of Usher’ previously for my A-Level as it was used to compare Gothic aspects within ‘Jane Eyre’ however I never paid much attention to the deeper meaning behind his texts. So when asked to read ‘The Purloined Letter’ and secondary reading on Poe and his works to prepare for a seminar, I didn't think much of it.

That all changed when I started to learn about his abnormal life and that’s putting it as politely as possible. His mother died when he was three years old, he married his first cousin who hadn't even reached the age of fourteen and he was twenty-seven. His wife also contracted TB – the same disease that killed his mother, foster-mother and brother.

You may be wondering what this has to do with his writing. Well, Poe’s work is packed with reference to his life which he may not have intended to include himself. The death of female characters, the sexualisation of woman all represent Poe’s inner consciousness.

The definition for psychoanalysis within the Oxford dictionary provides a brief yet informative summary of psychoanalysis. “Psychoanalysis: a system of psychological theory and therapy which aims to treat mental disorders by investigating the interaction of conscious and unconscious elements in the mind and bringing repressed fears and conflicts into the conscious mind by techniques such as dream interpretation and free association.”

Psychoanalysis is a form of literary criticism that focuses on the minds associated with a certain piece of literary work. This could be the mind of the author or the mind of a character within the text. Sigmund Freud developed psychoanalysis as a literary critique and believed the text is not written out of mere coincidence but like dreams it is the unconsciousness and repressed memories within that of the author that is escaping through the text.

Psychoanalytic critics affirm that a text’s true meaning lies with the author’s unconscious desires and issues. To completely understand a text, we must focus on a particular character within the literary work; however it is to be presumed that all of the characters represent the author’s unconscious thoughts in one way or another. A psychoanalyst’s interpretation is that everyone’s actions are driven by sexual and/or pleasure seeking intentions, so nothing is really how it appears. We can use ‘The Purloined Letter’ as an example of psychoanalysis within Poe’s works.

A ‘classical’ psychoanalytical approach to 'The Purloined Letter' such as Marie Bonaparte, believed that the true meaning in Poe's work is hidden and needs to be found. In 'The Purloined Letter' a letter is stolen from the Queen by the Minister, when she tries to conceal it in plain sight. When the police cannot find the letter, they approach Dupin, thus leading to him finding the letter at the Minister's, hanging over the fireplace in plain sight and they bring it back to the Queen.

Bonaparte believed that the fireplace is a symbolisation of the female genitalia and the letter symbolises regret for a missing maternal penis and reproach for its loss. The letter, according to Bonaparte is the, "...symbol of the maternal penis, also 'hangs' over the fireplace, in the same manner as the female penis, if it existed, would be hung over the cloaca which is here represented... by the general symbol of fireplace..." (Muller, J. P., & Richardson, W. J.: The Purloined Poe: Lacan, Derrida, and Psychoanalytic Reading).

Therefore, the story of the missing letter and finding it displayed over the fireplace on the mantelpiece is all truly, according to Bonaparte, Poe's unconscious wishes of finding his mother's maternal penis. As classical psychoanalysts would argue, literature is the fundamental outlet that reveals the psychology and personality of the author. Bonaparte goes on to state that Dupin is actually Poe himself on this pursuit and Poe is also the narrator who is observing his own triumph.
From Bonaparte’s viewpoint, we can see that although the author controls language, the unconscious comes through, so what is read is not literal, but the unconscious thoughts of the author which are hidden throughout the text and need to be found.

Jacques Lacan, a ‘structuralist’ psychoanalyst, however, “does not talk about the psychology of the individual author, but sees the text as a metaphor which throws light upon aspects of the unconscious, on the nature of psychoanalysis, and on aspects of language.” (Peter Barry: Beginning Theory: An Introduction to Literary and Cultural Theory).

Lacan’s seminar on ‘The Purloined Letter’ in 1954 itself was a critique of Marie Bonaparte's interpretation of 'The Purloined Letter' and mocked the idea of taking Freudian concepts and finding them in any text, in whatever way possible.

Although Lacan also considers the maternal penis, not as an anatomical object but an apparatus which enables the first meeting with absence when the child senses that he or she is not the mother’s world and that the mother wants more than the child. The child wishes to be the phallus for the mother, according to Lacan. So although this correlates with the Freudian concept of psychoanalysis, Lacan goes on to further this and uses it as his starting point.

Lacan stated that language positions you and it’s through the structure of language that we get to see the unconscious. Lacan uses literature because he believed that it can tell us something about the unconscious as a whole, and believed the unconscious was structured like language, unlike Bonaparte who used it to analyse the author.

So what do you think? Do you agree with Lacan’s viewpoint that language merely tells us about the unconscious as a whole rather than an analysis for the author like Bonaparte believed? Can you think of other examples that suit a classical or a structuralist’s psychoanalytic theory? What do you think of Poe’s work in general? I personally find that he is like marmite, you either love him or hate him. I have yet to make up my mind about which category I fall into, however.

Yours Analytically,
Sadia Parveen.

@Sadia_x95



Sunday, 13 September 2015

A brief history of nonsense - Flarf poetry


 As a self confessed lover of all things pretentious I have a soft spot for Flarf poetry. Chances are you do not. Flarf poetry is as unloved as it is unknown, lost in the fog of the internet (ironically so vital in its creation) and the sheer volume of poets and poetry coming out of the wires nowadays. Those who have heard of it, or even read some of it, almost universally hate it.

 To be fair, it is easy to see why. But before we castigate it and push it to one side as nonsense for nonsense sake, we should have a look at where it came from.

Flarf was born in New York at the turn of the century, and its creation can be attributed to one man. Gary Sullivan created a nonsense poem to send into a scam poetry competition (no names here, we all know who they are!) and Flarf was born. The poem, the first lines of which are shown below, is meaningless and has no context or poetical merit, but was of course included in the poetry competitions winners;

Yeah mm-hmm, it's true
big birds make
big doo! i got fire inside
my huppa chimp (tm)

Gary sent this masterpiece off to his friends, and pretty soon they were all involved in sending poems around the group. Flarf became a serious poetic consideration soon after, with people taking Google-search snippets and forming them into humorous/disturbing verses. This took Flarf from nonsense to something more, injecting it with a dash of pop/meta culture and meaning it started to mean.

You can read a lot more in-depth history on Flarf if you so wish, but to me that is missing the point. Flarf wouldn’t want you too. Flarf is only concerned with the now, the hyper-real and the nonsensical. In its brief history, it has grown only in one area. Now a few of the poems are good, whereas once they were uniformly awful.

If you love your hog of a oneself
grinding up against a dirty guitar
kung fu-style
in negative space
then you are cocked up with lollipops,
doggie style.
Expect toy ATM's next.

The lines above are taken from Sharon Mesmer’s ‘I am cocked up from overpower’. This is a great example of Flarf starting to mean something rather than just be something. The poem is satirising the very culture and saturation it was born from, a key element of Flarf. Flarfist’s know how ridiculous the fact their poetry is seen as art is and have integrated that in to their poems.

awe yea I open a photo album I found under my bed 
uhhuh, The dusty, leather cover decaying and smelling of the years 

awe yea baby Regrets mingling with my tears 

The above is an exerpt from Drew Gardner’s ‘As Dolphins Langour’. Using the same technique as other Flarfist’s, Drew has constructed something with actual emotional heft. Not easy to do, in fact I would argue it is the more difficult task. Flarf poets limit their palettes (maybe I should write poetry with lines like that) and therefore making something worthwhile becomes more difficult.

The writing of Flarf poetry is not solely down to Google searches. Another popular method is to take a phrase and run it through translators until it takes on other meanings entirely. This juxtaposition allows for some interesting creations but also can have a subtext. What happens, for example, when we run ‘I shatter into a thousand porcelain shards’ through translate a few times, we get ‘I own a piece of cloth decomposition’ as highlighted in the fantastic (and free) E-Book ‘Ten poems ruthlessly mangled by Google Translate’ by Ari Eckols.

But is Flarf something that requires anyone’s interest, or is it just tripe for tripe’s sake. Does it have any meaning? Does it have any place in serious literary circles?

Yes. Yes it does. Flarf is the trip-hop of poetry. It’s the pop-art of the Meta-age. Taking samples and pasting them together to become more relevant is practiced in all art forms. Forming something beautiful from otherwise unrelated snippets. Flarf is this generation’s Beat poetry. When Kerouac wrote How to Meditate, I am sure people reacted in the same way as they do when they read Flarf.

the gland inside of my brain discharging
the good glad fluid (Holy Fluid) as
i hap-down and hold all my body parts
down to a deadstop trance-Healing
all my sicknesses-erasing all-not
even the shred of a 'I-hope-you' or a
Loony Balloon left in it, but the mind

Not that different is it? Just as beat poetry was taken in and adored by those ‘hyper-intellectual’ enough to instruct the rest of us in what to enjoy, so Flarf was/should and will be heralded as a harbinger of cultural nirvana.

But what do you guys think? Is Flarf purely an attempt to cash in on meta-culture and not real poetry? Or, like me, do you love Flarf with all your heart!

Yours Nonsensically

Stuart Buck


@stuartmbuck