Sunday, December 02, 2018

이상화: 빼앗긴 들에도 봄은 오는가 (전집) I Sanghwa: Does Spring Also Come to Stolen Fields? (collected poems)

Normally I would write about a Korean book in Korean, but it is such a travesty that this seminal poet (whose eponymous poem every Korean learned by heart in primary school) is inaccessible in English, I am taking it upon myself to provide an English translation of some of my favorites here.  As for commentary, English readers should know that I Sanghwa combines the spirit of the Romantics--especially Shelley--with the colloquial accessibility of Yeats or Frost, but suffuses them with the fire of a revolutionary poet in occupied lands for which I can think of no corrolary.


Primitive Sorrow

The vagabond-brooding emerald plank of the facedown sea lying silently

Squints, as though looking at a late summer forest on top of a mountain.

Even on irritatingly long summer days, be merry for the sky at noon.

Sometimes the breath of a suckling infant blows in from there.

On every fence between two houses crouched on the slanted hills

Clamshells hang in nets, rows of teeth laughing from afar.

There’s not a soul on this facedown sandy road from the village.

Listless from night fishing, they are enjoying the sweet liquor of late sleep.

Just a few young women, baskets hoisted on their red-skirted waists,

Cross from tidal stone to tidal stone, hanging seaweed, like a dream from the sea.

At the soft but mournful cry of the cuckoo, heard in sleep,

An old dog stretches out its neck, looks around, and closes its eyes again.

In my breast, my spirit and my entranced gaze fly beyond the horizon with a flock of seagulls

Neither seeing nor being seen, only the building ripples of water-like thoughts.

~~

Chosunitis

Yesterday, today, the breath of every visible person is throttled.

Without joy for so long

Forced laughter makes a home on faces, like melon flowers.

Without even feeling the rage of the winter blizzard

Sweat surges on bracken-like fists. Breath, trying to break through this sealed window to the sky, is throttled.

~~

Extreme

My throbbing spirit struggles—

Yesterday, today, how many times—and writhes.

Unresting time, behind my tears,

Flows, flows, to kill me it flows.



Through the sprinting starlight

When the wind beats the ends of the branches

Why do the crickets look at the silent heavens and cry?

Even thus, all creation remains in the dead of night.



Last year, yesterday, in the midst of that dream

I too came unknowingly thus.

The ground, the ground I trod, how many times forgiven

Oh, it’s thrown me into a tear-worn ravine.



I didn’t know the easy world lies in contentment;

I didn’t know the happy life lies in submission.

Even so, I find a new road and, upon travelling it,

Even on that road my deathbound spirit is lonely.



Rather than seek my way in submission and contentment,

Rather than tie my life to another’s breath,

No, death— death is my path.

A new life in another land, this death!



Even so, treading this path

Oh, that day, that moment, how vexatious.

Even now, the sorrow that remains,

The very thought of it burns and stings.



With this breath that cannot return once it leaves,

Ever I live in a mere empty laugh.

O my sword, make my spirit a stone,

A stone that wears away at the bottom of a stream.

~~


Flower of the Heart
For my anguished Cheongchun companion


From today on, do not conceal it!

Whether happiness or sorrow, anything at all,

Even the anxiety of looking at what is to come—


Oh silent-brooding one, open your throat.

We are somehow wandering horses.

Wet your lips on the springs of dark youth


Dance, if just in the breast of today

Ah, you! Wander not back and forth

Burn up!

Till only ash is left!

Today’s life is only for today



Oh, and night is darkening.

A human is but a ghost.

The moment passes.

Through the unknown space of far-travelled tears,



Hidden in the very core of our breasts

You fair blue flower of the heart, bloom away.

We are but wanderers on a far road, singing the praises of today.

~~


The Song of the Sea
A song that mixes my spirit with the waves, bringing the feeling of the East Sea


Come to me, oh messenger, come to me

Forget the declarations of kings, tattered with age,

The ramblings of a sick child,

embracing grief, come only to me.



Here is that nature which mocks god,

And youth that never fades.

Cast away the tear-drenched world, come to me as I laugh,

And know that life exists only in change.

Thursday, November 22, 2018

Benvenuto Cellini: Autobiography

I have never been so blueballed by a book in my life.  After months of being engrossed in the (mostly) true and verifiable account of this extraordinary man's life, folding his stories and descriptions into my memories of Florence and Rome, mixxing all that in with Vasari's accounts of the same period and people, I was desperate to know what happened next.

I suppose I should have expected that he would leave me on the cusp.  I knew from researching his works as he described them that he never did go back to Paris and finish the other eleven candleabrae.  Neither did he complete the great fountain he began, and plenty of other works that he mentioned beginning are nowhere extant--presumably abandoned before completion.  Even armed with this knowledge, it never occurred to me that a man could spend years of his life dictating a detailed and riveting account of his life and then . . . just stop.

What happened, Benvenuto? I know from history that you eventually got married and died, had offspring, etc., but will I never know the resolution of your intrigues with the Duchess and that brigand Bandinello? Who eventually prevailed?  What treachery did your protegee get up to back in Paris that made you reverse your opinion of them so drastically? When I realized that the autobiography ended in the middle of a chapter, just as you were setting out for Pisa, I assumed you died.  But no.  You just.  Quit.

You lament throughout that any hindrance to your success was the result of villains' conspiracy against you, a perspective easy to adopt if we take your narrative as fact.  As you say, "Si che non basta l'esser uomo dabbene e virtuoso".  This fits perfectly well with what we all know of the world.  And yet, were you really so virtuous as you think?  Your setbacks could just as easily be lain at the feet of your own hotheadness and pride as at the feet of your rivals.  You are the very picture of a Byronic hero, but perhaps your fatal flaw is not your temper nor your arrogance after all.  I can forgive you for those.  But failure to finish what you start, this is more egregious.  If you pulled the same trick on your patrons as you did on me, it would be no wonder that your grand designs were yanked out from beneath you.

Monday, October 22, 2018

Al-Baqarah III

195: An unexpected call to moderation here. It's not immediately clear what "spend" here means, but an interpretation of "give of yourself and your resources" seems easily supportable.

196: More unexpected reasonableness here, though the significance of shaving one's head is news to this non-Muslim.  I'm not aware of other holy books that make such detailed allowances for extenuating circumstances, although I seem to recall the Talmud allows for impoverished supplicants to offer birds as sacrifices.

197: The suspicion that التَّقوىٰ is all but untranslatable is supported by the fact that it appears differently in all three translations I'm referencing.  Hulusi's decision to leave it untranslated and to extrapolate parenthetically is one I could wish he made more consistently.  At any rate the repeated admonition to "You of understanding" is reminiscent of similar refrains in both the Hebrew and Greek scriptures.

198: If I were more confident in the intentionality of the writer, I would spend more time analyzing when he employs رَبِّكُم instead of اللَّهُ.  Hulusi's extrapolation that the former is one's own divine essence, and the latter the universal Divine is tempting and difficult to contravert.

199: Hulusi's decision to leave غَفورٌ رَحيمٌ untranslated is a little more inexplicable than some of his other decisions, insofar as the translation of these words is generally agreed upon as "forgiving and merciful".  It seems entirely within character for him to have made the decision on mystico-phonetic grounds.

200: This seems a contradiction of the reassurance in 198 that there is nothing wrong with seeking bounty in this world.

201-202: It is as yet unclear what could possibly be wrong with such a request to deserve the punishment of fire.

203: I would be interested to know if those who take this verse literally, and perform the duties of Eid at their own pace, are actually seen as blameless by their religious communities.

204-206: Here seems to be the answer to the puzzle in 201.  It is not the pursuit of blessing that is damnable;  it is such pursuit to the detriment of others.

207: Hulusi's interpretation that the "self" here is rather the ego is the only way to reconcile it with 195.

208: Still curious to know the role of Satan in all this, which question also begs the issue of sequencing in this book.  It is clearly neither arranged chronologically, nor topically.  Much mentioned in passing here will no doubt be explained at length in "later" books.

209: Another set of words that Hulusi leaves untranslated, but other translators seem to agree on: زيزٌ حَكيمٌ.  One cannot help but be reminded that the book opens with a phonetic invocation, the meaning of which is absolutely obscure.  No doubt in Sufi tradition, الم have power in their vibration, not only in their meaning.

210,211: Perhaps it's my mood today, but these verses in particular feel very metaphysical.  Even in the non-Sufi translations I'm referencing, the phrase "to Allah all [things] are returned" is a telling way to describe the divine law.  It is not a deliberate administering of justice, but merely the ways things naturally occur for the consequences of our actions to be inescapable.

212: "Worldly life" sure does seem glamorous, and not just the acquisition of goods and experiences.  The battle on the physical plane for good, and right, and just.  It's easy to forget that this is just as ephemeral.

213: It sure sounds like there were no problems until the prophets appeared.  Is it possible that the Book was the source of all these divisions?  It's not the first time in this book and its predecessors that Allah has only guides those "whom he wills".

214: But the "distress" mentioned here is clearly of the spiritual variety, a grinding and groping over the truths as we perceive them--at least based on the context of the preceding verse.  Accordingly, the "help" Allah sends is that of clarity and guidance, not physical rescue.

215: No argument here.  Giving is worship is divine, but notice to whom you should give.

216: One hopes that القِتالُ can bear a metaphorical meaning in Arabic.  If not, the book loses a great amount of credibility.  I know that there will eventually be bloodthirsty passages here, and I wonder how Hulusi will justify them with the Sufi perspective.

217: of all the engrossing and upsetting things in this verse, one that draws my attention is the wildly different renderings of الفِتنَةُ across translations.  One version leaves it untranslatable as "Fitnah", Hulusi renders it parenthetically as "provocation", one suggests "faithlessness", and the dictionary offers "sedition", with at least ten alternatives including "discord" and "strife".  Contextually, the Prophet is clearly speaking of faithlessness, but that He chooses to talk about it in such terms is revealing.  The failure to keep faith, when pinned to this word, carries a definite subtext of separation and division.  This is in keeping with the Sufi idea that the only truth is unity, and belief in duality is the only sin.

218: I have now been trained to expect that this sort of verse is going to be connected to previous ideas by the following verse.

219: Sure enough.  The connection is one of compromise.  in 217, the harm of belief in--and action according to belief in--duality outweighs the harm of fighting.  Likewise, the benefit from certain vices is outweighed by the harm.

220: They who fail to care for orphans and treat them as brothers are curiously referred to here as المُفسِدَ, a corrupter, one who chooses actively to make things worse instead of better.  I like the layers of this designation.

221: I can already tell that Hulusi's translation takes unpardonable liberties before even glancing at the Arabic.  There's no way his idea of "dualism" is explicit in the original text.  Looking at the Arabic reveals that my suspicion was only partially correct.  The idea of pluralism is absolutely to be found in المُشرِكاتِ, but it's definitely  not as clear as Hulusi pretends.

222: I was just thinking about this yesterday: how ridiculously misogynistic the Talmudic proscriptions against menstruation were.  And here they are again, no doubt grandfathered in.  If there one thing we can count on in Abrahamic religious texts, it's misogyny.

223: A despicable verse that eevn Hulusi's relatively ecumenical translation could not make palatable.

224: . . . followed by a very nice verse that even more fundamentalist translations could not tarnish.

225: A nice extension of the above thought, and a rebuke to Pharasaic interpretations of any law.  Furthermore, Hulusi's insistence that Allah is something within is, rather than something external, finds a nice home here.  If one breaks the spirit of the law, even while holding to the letter, one's own spirit is the least forgiving.

226: A curious reference to pre-Islamic divorce proceedings and a nice dichotomy is developed here between Allah as the غَفورٌ رَحيمٌ who accounts for the weakness of the body on the one hand . . .

227: . . . and the سَميعٌ عَليمٌ who insists on the highest spiritual standards on the other.  It's revealing though, that the reader's attention is drawn to Allah's omniscience in the context of divorce.  Marriage vows are not exempt from the warnings in 224, above: break them only if you are prepared to answer to your own Rabb.

228: The misogyny is back.  At times I find Hulusi's Sufi approach to this text appealing.  And then there is this moment when I actually don't want to proceed.

229: Fairly clear and, compared with Judeo-Christian traditions at least, reasonable.

230: And it gets even more blurry.  What was Islamic marriage at this point, even?

231: The Islamic divorce proceedings here are of considerably less interest than the reference to the power of the letter ب.  Is this an invention of Hulusi's?  At the very least it is sure to have roots in Sufi tradition before him.  Nonetheless, the more straightforward rendering of بِهِ as "in accordance with it" (rather than Hulusi's "In accordance with the letter B") in the other texts I'm referencing seems more linguistically sound.

232: Of course, if you have already "divorced" your wife twice, to continue to meddle in her affairs is the very definition of petty.

233, 234: Okay, why do we have more detail on divorce than on marriage?  There is no mention yet of how to marry, and more detail on how to divorce than on any other subject so far.

235: Hulusi's straightforward rendering of يَعلَمُ ما في أَنفُسِكُم as "knows what is in your consciousness" feels like a missed opporunity to reinforce his Sufi perspective, and a raare instance of restraint on his part.

236: And this is the earliest mention of alimony that I know.  As misogynist as the text is on occassion, I suppose this soothes my distaste ever so slightly.

237: A reading of this entire book is possible from the perspective of الفَضلَ, which is often given as "righteousness", but is obviously deeper.  Hulusi wisely leaves it untranslated.

238: The emphasis on "the middle prayer" is telling here.  What other reason could there be for one prayer to be more important than the others, but that it symbolizes an attitude of prayer in the midst of normal activity?

239: And another reminder that the spirit of prayer, rather than a particular posture, is the most important thong.

240: And how are the dead supposed to fill this obligation?

241: I had thought that we left the idea of Divorce behind in 237, but here we are again.  Rather than view this as a disjointed rambling, I prefer to think of it as an insertion of principle--specifically that of الفَضلَ--into a seemingly unrelated discourse.

242: And by "Thus", we can easily understand the dialectic, the manner of teaching, rather than the specific topic.

243: We can "thus" expect that this seeming non sequitir will be tied again to the overarching idea.

244: Each time these attributes of Allah are presented as pairs, one wonders whether there is some pattern:
 Hearing and Knowing (227, here)
Almighty and Allwise (240, 228)
All-forgiving and All-forberaing (226, 235)

etc. as opposed to those attributes that seem to be mentioned alone:
Basir ([one who sees] 233)
Habir ([one who knows] 234)

245: There seems to be more hay to be made from the concept of يَقبِضُ وَيَبسُطُ, the natural ebb and flow of life as granted by Allah.

246: This presentation of Allah as عَليمٌ in isolation is in contrast with what I observed in 244.

247: At first I wondered who "Talut" was, and supposed that he was another figure that escaped mention in the Hebrew texts.  but no, it's just that I didn't recognize Saul's Arabic name. Also, we are given yet another pairing of "Knowing", this time with "Bounteous".

248: Hulusi's decision to refer to The Ark of the Covenant as "A coffin" is fascinating, and tantalizes the reader with a string of possible metaphorical interpretations of that relic.

249: This is different than the Hebrew telling of the story of Gideon.  Here "Saul" is far more explicit in his instructions, which makes the undisciplined soldiers more culpable.

250: I don't recall this from the Hebrew scriptures.

251: Nor do I recall Gideon's story being conflated with David's.

252: And "You" here is Muhammad, though self-reported endorsement is always suspect.

253: Wait, what?  Who among Jesus' successors fought each other? Other than metaphorically, that is.  Perhaps the conflict reported in the Greek scriptures was downplayed.

254: This 180 turn left me confused.  What does a lack of friendship have to do with anything?  I hope that this is one of the left turns that becomes clearer in subsequent verses, rather than one that is dropped offhandedly, and never revisited.

255: If I know anything about religion, it's that this is the sort of verse that people commit to memory.

256: This is a good summary of the preceding verses, especially the lengthy discussion of divorce.  Taking all of the above into considerationg, the most important thing to consider is not the rules and regulations; it is the essence of Allah.

257: Interesting parallel between the names "Taghut" and "Satan" etymologically.

258-260 Three new stories about Abraham, dropped offhandedly as though they were common knowledge.  Yet none of the three is familiar to me.  How greatly each of them would have contributed to the narrative!  A little research reveals that the account is given at length in the Talmud, and that Nimrod is the person in question.  This is positively tantalizing, and reveals just how little justice I did to the Talmud before.

261: One begins to see that 254 was indeed the beginning of a new thread, this time about abundance.

262: And a repetition of the phrasing in 254 reveals an interesting perspective on material wealth: when you have it, spend it.  There's more where that came from.

263: Far more in line with Paul's admonitions in 1 Timothy 2:9 than with anything in the HEbrew scriptures.

264: Hulusi's insertion of the importance of ب is rather more inexplicable here than elsewhere.  In 231, the letter was at least present.  Here, it is only there as an affix to the name of Allah. 

265: It is not at all clear what "Spending one's wealth for Allah's pleasure" means.  Hulusi's parenthetical explication that it means "to not let one's conditionings limit the manifestation of Allah's names" is less than helpful.  Is the phrase meant to contrast with the spending mentioned above, or to complement it?

266: This is an altogether obscure metaphor, unless one takes it in the spirit of 262: wealth itself is of no value.

267: And that perspective is reinforced here.

268: Is there a distinction between "Satan" here and "Taghut" earlier?  No doubt hulusi would argue that both are metaphorical representations of the same phenomenon: deceit and illusion are not even flip sides; they are the same side of a coin.

269: The Quran itself is less than helpful in defining "wisdom", but Hulusi's addition that it is understanding of the manifestations of the Divine names in oneself helps to tie other mentions of it together.  And it is this alone that can be accumulated without fear.

270-71: Accordingly, what possible benefit can there be to disclose one's charitable actions?  It is to the Divine names alone that these actions relate, and they are aware of everything by nature as خَبيرٌ. 

272: Perhaps in anticipation of the argument, "But my charity can serve as an example for others!"

273: A very specific target for this giving though.  Perhaps it is in this sense that one spends for Allah in 265.

274: My favorite liberty of Hulusi's is his extrapolation of رَبِّهِم to be not merely one's image of Allah, but the divine nature within oneself. 

275: Here we have a more helpful distinction between Taghut, Iblis, and Shaitan, this latter being a group of malevolent spirits rather than an individual.  It is interesting that this proscription against usury survived the transition from Judaism to to Christianity to Islam, and yet is thoroughly ignored by all three today.

276: Charity is the only allowable usury!  For what else can we call that by which one attains so great a profit?

277: The familiar duo of Prayer and Charity, perhaps here mentioned as a transition from discussion of the latter to the former.

278: And perhaps not.  But the dialectic is exceedingly clear.  Each thread of this book has been dropped, and then picked up again later in a way that reveals it was never dropped at all.  EAch verse overlays several others, and the one is ending at the same time that another is beginning and a third is still in progress.

279: Carrying on the lovely metaphor of 276, one can still salvage the capital of mis-motived deeds, but one cannot hope to profit from them.

280-81: And the metaphor comes full circle, returning the discussion of material wealth to the ultimate purpose of spiritual virtue.

282: Considering how much time was just spent downplaying the importance of material wealth, this is rather a lot of attention to give to transactions.

283: I'm beginning to think that Hulusi's emphasis on ب is rather opportunistic.  There is no pattern that I can discern.

284: I feel like Hulusi could be more consistent with his emphasis on the qualities ond properties of the different names as well.  His entire point seems to be that each one's رَبِّهِم carries all of the properties of the Divine within it, and our own nature will just as much يُحاسِبكُم as Allah.

285: And this is the loveliest resolution of that concept.  The Prophets, the Book, each one's Rabb, the Divine names, even the letter ب itself, are all the same thing, and they all bear the same message.

286: The final supplication to رَبَّنا is a great place to tie up this book.


Wednesday, October 03, 2018

Herta Müller: Traveling on One Leg

I suppose it's certainly possible that I'm guilty of a certain type of confirmation bias.  Having only recently finished Elfriede Jelinek's The Piano Teacher, perhaps my thoughts are still with her, and I'm seeing parallels that don't exist.  Perhaps this book of Müller's is not representative of her overall work, and I was simply drawn by the title into an outlying sample.

But the question arises nonetheless, what is it about Germany that draws this sort of book out of women, and what is it about those works that attracts the attention of the Nobel Committee? The style, subject, and structure of these books all seem to be in dialogue with each other, though Jelinek could obviously claim to be the first speaker.  If Müller was at all influenced by Jelinek, it is clear that she chose to take her style even further into obscurity.  Where Jelinek blurred lines between reader, character, and narrator, Müller nearly eliminates them altogether.

Which could give the mistaken impression that Müller has a narrative to be narrated at all.  What she creates is not a story, but rather a textual collage.  She could easily be referring to the work as a whole when she writes of Irene's photos that "The connections were opposites.  They made one single strange collage out of all the pictures.  The collage was so strange that it could relate to everything.  It was constantly moving" (38).  It might even be said that both in style and content, she is entirely unconcerned with connections, and far more interested in the spaces between things, the very tips of fingers and leaves, where one thing ceases to be itself, but before it becomes another.  The moment in one's stride when they are "traveling on one leg, lost before they change to the other" (80).

These moments, the tips and termini of things, are all that matter to Irene.  For her, "the detail has been bigger than the whole" (145).  The silence at the tips of things is both obsession and terror for her.  She "lived not in the things, but in their consequences," a habit that renders her stagnant, unable to act, which is where her similarity to Jelinek's Erika unravels (124).  Where the latter's desire is that of insatiable teeth, Irene's has no object.  It is sterile, a subject-in-itself, observing the world without becoming a part of it, and ultimately, unable even to say goodbye.

Thursday, September 06, 2018

Charles Darwin: On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection

It is a testament to this book that I have rather little to say about it.  Normally I would measure a book by the extent to which it yields to my attacks and releases hidden layers of meaning, but this book is specifically designed to resist such an assault.  It is, by intelligent design, so utterly transparent, that no chink in its walls could I find from which to mount my usual literary disassembly.  The one less than satisfying point in Darwin's arguments, namely that regarding the reasons for the reduced ability of species to breed in proportion to the distance between them, would have been handily dispatched had he lived a few more decades to read of Miescher's discovery of nuclein.

So solid is Darwin's reasoning that the instinct is nearly irresistible to apply it to other fields of study, in particular: linguistics.  Darwin even hinted at the affinity of this field to his thought in using it to illustrate his case on more than one occasion.  After all, his argument hinges upon the idea that what we call a "species" is rather open to interpretation, and refers to the term as "a mere useless abstraction" and "arbitrarily given, for the sake of convenience, to a set of individuals closely resembling each other."  How reminiscent this is of Max Weinreich's observation that "A language is a dialect with an army and a navy."  One might even go so far as to apply the theory to poetry or literature, as Ferdinand Brunetiere did--unsuccessfully.

Nonetheless, there were in Darwin's time, and remain today, those who insist on disregarding this, in my opinion, well-proven and easily visible principle.  If such ones would really bother to consider Darwin's evidence, they would be forced to admit, either that natural selection is a well-documented natural phenomenon, or that the divine creator executed her or his plan in such a way as to conceal her or his own existence.  To do otherwise, as Darwin observes, "makes the works of God a mere mockery and deception."


Shane

I knew I wasn't making it up!  Way back at the beginning of this blog, when I was still teaching public high school, I made this comment, to the effect that there was an awful lot of sexual tension in a book intended for young adults.  What was subtext in the book became quite textual in the movie, to the credit of the director.  It was a solidly constructed movie, with nice cinematography and performances, though the lighting director should have been sacked.

But that which captures the notice of a modern viewer most about this movie is not the quality, by which measure it could fairly be described as "serviceable".  Rather, it is a depiction of masculinity that it at once toxic and frighteningly accurate.  The two men at the center of the movie seem, on the surface, to be motivated by what some might call "honor", the desire to do the right thing.  But while they have some tendencies in that direction, their honors are constantly undercut by an even more powerful motivator: concern over how they are perceived.  And it is pointedly not only in the eyes of the woman they both have feelings for that they struggle to be perceived as "men".  They struggle even harder for honor in the eyes of the young boy through whose eyes we witness the story.  They can bear any manner of indignity and insult, but the one thing they cannot endure--and that which leads them into foolish, performative masculinity--is for little Joey to think of them as cowards.

The film treats this as a virtue, rather than what it really is: a fatal flaw that nearly gets everyone killed.  But I don't think of this as detracting from the film.  It is, in fact, a perfectly accurate description of the way males are raised to view themselves, and the forces against which even such noble men as Shane and Joe continue to struggle.

Sunday, September 02, 2018

Tsuina Miura: 亜人

이책을 통해서 알게 된 것은 그책을 읽은 시간이 작읐을 만큼 작다.  즉 이제 하루안에 한국어로 된 만화책을 끝낼 수가 있다, 아직 그렇게 하면서 사전이 필요하다, 한국어 능력을 더 이상 높이려면 한달에 한 권을 읽는 게 충분하지 않다.

Benedetto Croce: Poetry and Literature

"Great and varied, then, is the labor, the effort, and the thought of the man who wants to 'give names to things'" (131).  With this reference to Pythagoras by way of Cicero, Croce declares at once his intention, and his difficulty. If he felt the task before him to be monumental, that of "naming" poetry and literature as he did with some measure of success for "art", he clearly didn't pay attention to his contemporary Wittgenstein.  If he had, he would have known that the task is not difficult, but impossible.

It's a pity that Wittgenstein's ideas about the nature of language weren't published until the year after Croce's death (if I reckon correctly).  Perhaps reading the former's works would have opened the latter's eyes to the fact that what he determined about poetry, the experience, also applies to "Poetry", the word.  "The joy which everyone feels in a poem (as though the poem were the reader's own work; his own creation)", well-observed by Croce, is the same joy that he sought in "naming" poetry (84).  Perhaps it's a mercy that he died before realizing that his definitions, his names, were no more universal than the deeply personal joy of poetry itself.

The words that Croce put on Poetry and Literature do not inspire in me the same moment of awakening that his words for Art did.  If anything, they seem to obfuscate the questions, backtracking on and losing the thread of his earlier work.  The beauty of his Aesthetic lay in its simplicity and clarity.  So successfully did he craft his word, that in the eyes of this reader he could simply have answered the question of poetry by saying "ditto".  If Art is the moment where the universal human moment finds union with the individual artistic expression, then how is Poetry any different, save in the medium?

As for this reader, Poetry is not the same as Art, though the two ideas overlap.  Croce correctly observes that poetry is "The rhythmization of the universe", just as painting is its visualization, and music its vibration (195).  But he is incorrect to stop there, for rhythm alone does not make poetry, it is but one level of that which makes something "poetic".  The texture, figurative language, structure, and music of a poetic work all lay upon each other in a marvelous palimpsest with other elements, and something is "poetic" in my mind to the exact degree that its layers are many and sympathetic to each other.  Something can accordingly be "poetic" without being "art", and vice versa.  The best, naturally, are those things that are both.

And Croce further loses his way when adding the element of Literature to the mix.  This is a third miracle, independent of, but overlapping with, the other two.  Poetry and Art exist in a vacuum, in that they are moments unto themselves.  Literature is not; it is the very act of "Letters", of knowing, using, and connecting to the rest of existing human discourse.  A work is Literary to the exact degree that it connects with everything else, using the nature of its particular medium as the conductive material.

But if I were to assume that others experience the three miracles in the same way that I do, I would be making the same mistake Croce did.  It is only for me that Art is the miracle of expression, Poetry the miracle of plurality, and Literature the miracle of connection.  Whether proclaiming such is merely an act of cowardice in the light of its unprovability, and whether Croce wasn't a better man to have at least tried, is a matter that will have to remain open for now.