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Jackie Offline OP
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I came across this book review, and wondered if any here share the writer's view (of the poet, not the book), or would care to offer rebuttal/opinions. I will put some quotes, but it's too long to put it all. Warning: the page does have ads, sorry.

In March 1959, at a dinner celebrating the 85th birthday of Robert Frost, the critic Lionel Trilling managed to accomplish something that few toast-masters in history have ever done: In his brief remarks, he permanently changed the way people think about his subject.
...

Trilling recognized that the aged poet would not be helped in his passage to posterity by this Norman Rockwell carapace, which could only seem more fake and dated with the years. That is why Trilling insisted on calling Frost, to his face, "a terrifying poet." Really, he had less in common with Longfellow than with Sophocles, "who made plain ... the terrible things of human life."
...

Yet if the "Notebooks" contain ore instead of ingots, for that very reason they seem to give us a glimpse of a more subterranean Frost. And the more private the poet, the more genuinely terrifying he becomes.
...

Frost is known as a master of metaphor, and many of his poems take the form of extended metaphors. Yet when he writes, "I doubt if any thing is more related to another thing than it is to any third thing except as we make it," he shows how the power of metaphor can turn on the poet, plunging him into a world of sheer perspectivism where there is no essence, only likeness. If we can make anything resemble anything else, then we are doomed to perish from the very excess of significations.

This is the terror that has always loomed behind the willful optimism of the Emersonian tradition, and which Frost, very much like Nietzsche, was able to exhume from the corpse of Emerson's gentility. Perhaps not even Nietzsche ever captured that terror in an image as striking and bottomless as Frost's: "We get truth like a man trying to drink at a hydrant." At such moments, Frost's "Notebooks," like his best poems, remind us that there has never been a more genuinely mystical American writer.


subterranean Frost

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Dear Jackie. I didn't dive deep into the backgrounds of Robert Frost.
Like with the visual arts , I take what the artist/poet shows in image or poetry words as being more important than what his/her life and idea's are.

But one clear thing that stands out from your post is that Norman Rockwell and Robert Frost are worlds apart. (sorry, I had some trouble to place the meaning of the word "carapace", so I've edited my head off). Changes made.
(Norman Rockwell was a "pleasing" artist, very skilled and impressive in technique and crafty. I see Robert Frost as one who did not write to "please" or accomodate or impress people, but to get into contact with his readers on a different level. Communication with whoever is out there to see and understand.


I got my little book of his poems through this board and borrowed the poem down the line since half a year to use as a signature on a small forum dealing with one special series of fantasy books.

Chosen because slightly it connects to the contents of these books,
but also because I think it is a special poem.

Sorry they don't have a little frost blue smile.

--------------------

Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favour fire.
But if I had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice
Is also great
And will suffice.

Robert Frost (1874-1963)

---------------------------------------------------

I read the article though, thanks for bringing it up.

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I once marvelled at a painting by NZ artist Peter Mckintyre it had an eerie atmosphere of foreboding you could feel the moisture in the air. This poem of frosts give me the same feeling.

Once By The Pacific

The shattered water made a misty din.
Great waves looked over others coming in,
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before.
The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,
Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.
You could not tell, and yet it looked as if
The shore was lucky in being backed by cliff,
The cliff in being backed by continent;
It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Someone had better be prepared for rage.
There would be more than ocean-water broken
Before God's last Put out the Light was spoken.

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It sounds to me like Lionel Trilling was indulging in imaginative criticism.

I put the following forward as a possibility, but it is not necessarily my opinion.

If it is first necessary to be familiar with Frost's private notebooks before realising that his poems were really meant to present a vertiginous vision of perspectival relativism, then the poems--taken on their own--have failed to achieve what Frost intended.

This interpretation seems especially possible when you remember that Frost was alive both before and after this astonishing hermeneutic revelation was made. In the case of a poet who died before "being discovered", this sort of conjecture is reasonable. But Frost was in a position to influence, engineer and reject the reception of his poetry and his vision. Why didn't Frost ever avail himself of the opportunity to tell his readership that he was "terrifying" ? Why had he not before strongly rejected the prevailing perception of his poetry which, if Trilling's view is correct, was incorrect?

It reminds me of people who argue over whether reading Kafka is a terrifying experience or a hoot. In the end, he is both, and neither, and more besides, and the attempt to reduce an artist to a single word is puerile.

Ergo, perhaps the most pressing question becomes not "Is Frost a terrifying poet?" but "What alcoholic drinks were served at Frost's 85th birthday?"

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Quote:

"... a vertiginous vision of perspectival relativism"




Yeah, as I was saying to my pal Andy as I drove his pick-up truck through a driving rainstorm to the beer store over to the nearest wet county to get a case of long-neck Buds, I said, you know, Andy, that guy Frost wrote some damn good poetry but he was unquestionably a vertiginous vision of perspectival relativism.

"Drive." said Andy, "Drive".

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Quote:

"Drive." said Andy, "Drive".




But drive slowly. Parallax will only make it worse.

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Frost is known as a master of metaphor, and many of his poems take the form of extended metaphors. Yet when he writes, "I doubt if any thing is more related to another thing than it is to any third thing except as we make it," he shows how the power of metaphor can turn on the poet, plunging him into a world of sheer perspectivism where there is no essence, only likeness. If we can make anything resemble anything else, then we are doomed to perish from the very excess of significations.

Jackie I don't necessarily dig Trilling's rap but I do agree that Frost was not merely the verse equivalent of Rockwell.

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Great poem, olly. Nicely constructed.

Here's Creeley's poem in toto...

A Man I Know

As I sd to my
friend, because I am
always talking - John, I

sd, which was not his
name, the darkness sur-
rounds us, what

can we do against
it, or else, shall we &
why not, buy a goddamn big car,

drive, he sd, for
christ's sake, look
out where yr going.

#166142 02/19/07 01:19 PM
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Blue laws and dry counties—just another reason not to dwell in some place.


Ceci n'est pas un seing.
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>>>> But Frost was in a position to influence, engineer and reject the reception of his poetry and his vision. Why didn't he ever avail himself of the opportunity to tell his readership that he was "terrifying" ? Why had he not before strongly rejected the prevailing perception of his poetry which, if Trilling's view <i>is</i> correct, was incorrect.<<<<


Second Coming to Frost .

If a poet , painter , artist in whatever field is sure (as far as that goes) of what he brings about, why would he have to explain to his public that he is 'Terrifying'?

From the article I understand that "the Notebooks " contain many random notes and I think he certainly did not write these notes for the purpose of ugrading his image.
I can agree with you that mr. Trillings may have taken the opportunity to upgrade Frost's image calling him : "terrifying" because he had come to the conclusion that Frost was.
And the "Note books"gave him the chance to do so.

Frost being present at that moment may have thought : " Amen" and
taken his drink and made a toast in his mind to his poetry, (not his purpose or person) in private.



#166144 02/19/07 05:10 PM
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Quote:

Blue laws and dry counties—just another reason not to dwell in some place.



Dwell where you think best, zmjezhd, but here in Blount County no winos dwell in the streets.

But I do like your asides; you are at your cutest when you sneer.

#166145 02/19/07 06:41 PM
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Dwell where you think best, zmjezhd, but here in Blount County no winos dwell in the streets.

Yes, that's because they're driving to the nearest wet county as fast as Sherman heading for Atlanta.

But I do like your asides; you are at your cutest when you sneer.

And you are best in your sulking and silence.


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Quote:

Quote:

"... a vertiginous vision of perspectival relativism"




Yeah, as I was saying to my pal Andy as I drove his pick-up truck through a driving rainstorm to the beer store over to the nearest wet county to get a case of long-neck Buds, I said, you know, Andy, that guy Frost wrote some damn good poetry but he was unquestionably a vertiginous vision of perspectival relativism.

"Drive." said Andy, "Drive".




I'm still LOL, on the second read. You are quite the raconteur, Milo, and you tell a good story, too.

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Why thank you, Anna, nice compliment.

Maybe you could charm Mister R'lyeh into being my bud.

#166148 02/19/07 11:58 PM
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Quote:

just another reason not to dwell in some place.




Where else you gonna live?

#166149 02/20/07 03:01 PM
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Somewhere, in the next county
Blue laws fly
New York winos are drinking
Why oh why can't I?

Some day I'll wish upon a bar
And wake up where the law is far behind me
Where rivers flow with chardonnay
"Drinks on me" is what I'll say
That's where you'll find me

#166150 02/20/07 03:55 PM
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Well , Robert Frost can't complain about not getting an affluent toast.

#166151 02/20/07 04:50 PM
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I think Trilling's opinion says more about Trilling than it does about Frost. OTOH Perhaps Trilling was aiming to say something/anything about Frost that had not been said before. Perhaps Trilling abhors sugary tributes and was just plain raisin' hell!
Like the guys being driven home very late from a party. One guy says to driver "We've passed that sign before! We are lost, aren't we." Driver says "Yeah, but we are making great time!"

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Quote:

Why thank you, Anna, nice compliment.

Maybe you could charm Mister R'lyeh into being my bud.




Give him time. Took me years, and my people are from your neck of the woods.

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It may not be Frost; I don't know. But it was a fun read.

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From today's NPR's "Writer's Almanac" [Garrison Keillor]):

___________________
On this day in 1923, Robert Frost's poem "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" was published in The New Republic magazine. It was Frost's favorite of his own poems. Though it's a poem about winter, Frost wrote the first draft on a warm morning in the middle of June. The night before he had stayed up working at his kitchen table on a long, difficult poem called "New Hampshire" (1923). He wrote "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" in just a few minutes, almost without lifting his pen off the page. He said, "It was as if I'd had a hallucination."
_______________________


Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/

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As possibly the nearest entity to the polar opposite of a poetry fan, and if not mistaken about the target having written that Mending Wall verse, A. will deign to offer that as poetry goes, his work seems among the more dignified. 'Terrifying' he was not.


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