J. H. Prynne

[luka]

The opening of To Pollen's so percussive, so many short, hard sounds. Ds and Ts.

stringent paste

 

[version]

It's interesting the word 'engraving' comes up in the second section as i was thinking along those lines from the off. He's gouging and scratching some of these words onto the page.

 

[version]

Herded, particle, cell, bred, cell, destruction. There's a wrangling with nature and the language we use to describe it here. Also reminds me of William Gaddis' fixation on failure.

 

[luka]

are you reading it on the page or on the screen? its the only pdf hes issued as far as i know. i associate it with the screen cos thats where i first saw it

 

[version]

Screen.

 

[version]

The second section's even more visceral than the first. The transformation scene in American Werewolf in London. I'm picturing things growing and changing and cracking apart. The second epigraph - "Sometimes the field sprouts nails, so much does the field long for water" - feels apt. I don't know whether he means human nails or nails, but I'm assuming the latter and picturing the ground literally forcing metal to protrude from its body. Hellraiser.

 

[luka]

can you read it fairly naturally or does it cause a strain? it's not very normal writing.

 

[version]

Impossible for me not to think of the industrial revolution. Mills and textile factories belching out thick, black smoke. Creaking and clanking machines. The battlefields of WW1.

 

[version]

can you read it fairly naturally or does it cause a strain? it's not very normal writing.

A strain. It makes my teeth clench and my face tighten.

 

[version]

It gives me a similar sensation to good noise music.

 

[luka]

A strain. It makes my teeth clench and my face tighten.

thats a relief

 

[luka]

it is readable though that one. there;'s something about it thats actually very direct.

 

[luka]

like noise music is

 

[version]

I think it's how harsh and physical the language is. You can't drift away or fog up reading it.

 

[yyaldrin]

On the blush cheek making, to one
making to the one, a stealing
tear, of blushing as every age
betrays the sight, alone.

By light, ask and mellow reflected
then show to hope again
doubt yet believing, request the lost,
the blush to shine.

Concerns starting bright and oft
soft yielding, blush shining,
charm to hand, around the wound
her finest charm glowing.

So Orpheus tamed the wild beasts
for long night comes down
moving naked, over the wound,
the gem from the crown.

 

[yyaldrin]

Shine ahead, cold star
like music on the water
in the wake of remission
from near, from far.

Take beauty's injunction
as pledge for the chain
that binds up the open scatter
sprinkled in chill rain.

None so costly, none so clear
accepted on account
of pliant, client deception
to tarnish a fear.

And rise up to vocal induration,
lulled into fresh calm
by motionless, undistracted
insult to charm.

 

[yyaldrin]

Hope for help in the gallery
all in yellow, all in yellow,
skimming to ride, milk inside
all in yellow, all in yellow.

But where is the music, the music
all on yonder green hill?
So turning and twirling asunder
as to never be still?

As to go for a dancer in yellow,
for to dance to the far brim,
all in yellow, all in yellow sliding
and ready to come in.

In ages past the cover thickens,
clouds bank in the sky;
the leaves go down, all in yellow
faring well, to pass by.

 

[yyaldrin]

these are all from brass and are all quite tender and sweet i think. might also be some of his more conventional ones.

 

[luka]

Brass might be my favourite of all his books.

 

[Corpsey]

These ones are more up my street - they rhyme and everything!