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| Photo courtesy of photographer Ostillac Castillo of Bourq, France and sxc.hu. |
Whether it is on paper or digital, a book is a particular kind of dreaming solitude that
may, as Whitman said of himself, “contain multitudes.”
Dreaming solitude must have a place to dream.
Dreaming solitude must begin and end.
It must be a place “away.”
If it is a collection of
poetry or novel of a high order that is not part of the contemporary avant garde—let’s ignore them for now—it must have certain attributes. The book is a vessel.
It is a vase, made to hold the water of life and be
flowering.
It is not one with the internet, even if it is digital and
downloadable. If it becomes one with
the internet, it no longer is a vessel and is not workable as a book.
It must exclude.
It must exhibit shapeliness within itself.
***
More clarity in the comments, perhaps, as I respond to Gary about what I mean by a vessel--a great deal more than he assumes! That Gary. Maybe I wasn't clear enough... Well, it's a tricky subject. Nothing like being forced to clarify...
***
An analogy
Long before there was an internet, Yeats said that he made poems out of "a mouthful of air."
A poem is a vessel containing words.
It has a beginning, a middle, and end. It has a shape. It is its own shape.
It makes its own place.
It holds life (or else is a failure that attempts to hold life.)
It excludes everything that is not part of it.
***
More clarity in the comments, perhaps, as I respond to Gary about what I mean by a vessel--a great deal more than he assumes! That Gary. Maybe I wasn't clear enough... Well, it's a tricky subject. Nothing like being forced to clarify...
***
An analogy
Long before there was an internet, Yeats said that he made poems out of "a mouthful of air."
A poem is a vessel containing words.
It has a beginning, a middle, and end. It has a shape. It is its own shape.
It makes its own place.
It holds life (or else is a failure that attempts to hold life.)
It excludes everything that is not part of it.
