Uncategorized

Frivolity

Originally Published: July 23, 2007

This villain, who puts words together with no intention of stating, hoping, praying, or persuading ... only imagining, only creating ... is to many immoral, certainly frivolous, a trivial person in a time of trouble (and what time is not?), a parasite upon whatever scrofulous body the body politic possesses at that moment. And roses are intolerably frivolous too, and those who grow them, snowmen and those who raise them up, and drinking songs and drinking, and every activity performed for its own inherent worth.
That's William Gass again. I have to go back to this essay ("Carrots, Noses, Snow, Rose, Roses") once in a while to remind myself that the writing that really brings me to my knees almost never has to do with politics, "memory," or any moral imperative. But I was surprised -- not unpleasantly -- to find a persuasive ethical account of "pure" poetry in W.H. Auden's 1957 essay, "Music in Shakespeare."


The kind of voice [Ariel] requires ... is as lacking in the personal and the erotic and as like an instrument as possible.
Suppose Ariel, disguised as a musician, had approached Ferdinand as he sat on a bank, "weeping against the king, my father's wrack," and offered to sing for him; Ferdinand would probably have replied, "Go away, this is no time for music"; he might possibly have asked for something beautiful and sad; he certainly would not have asked for "Come unto these yellow sands."
As it is, the song comes to him as an utter surprise, and its effect is not to feed or please his grief, not to encourage him to sit brooding, but to allay his passion, so that he gets to his feet and follows the music. The song opens his present to expectation at a moment when he is in danger of closing it to all but recollection.

Furthermore, Auden goes on to say, Ariel's song not only prevents Ferdinand's grief from foreclosing on the present, but on the future too, in the person of Miranda who shows up soon after.
The "seriousness" of poetry isn't found in its subject matter, but in its function. And if sometimes that function seems amoral -- or, downright immoral, given that this is a "time of trouble" -- then Auden is definitely the man to commune with for spell.
To be continued.

Ange Mlinko was born in Philadelphia and earned her BA from St. John's College and MFA from Brown University...

Read Full Biography