Interact 9 - Lauren Hynde

[twelveoone]

To see as the other sees....

Lauren Hynde is a bit of an enigma to me, making it difficult to write an introduction. In the two poems below, one is both stuck by the shear magic of the words, but also the unusual word choices. In “Prodigal of Blue” the first four stanzas have an almost hallucinogenic effect, almost unbroken. (I did have to look up tulle.) Then one starts to think, she does not write like an American, nor is quite like an Englishman, nor an Indian. One is struck by the use of formal language, technically correct terms, and lack of colloquialisms. Words, phrases are an associative process, if the process is not followed by both parties communication breaks down.
I am not completely following…
These words are unusual, with a tendency to interrupt the flow: tulle, baluster, ogees, crepuscule, all correct, technically narrow terms, one also looks at the pronunciation and/or visual associations, some words suffer. Crepuscule must be pronounced with a softer tongue than most natives can muster, for it to work in the context.
These associations strike me as strange, as an American.
“Gold would downpour if I thought of the stars,”
“new Turkeys.”
“a single jet of fluoride”

One of the purposes of these Interact series is to identify problems in communication between the author and the audience, as part of the audience, the above are some of my problems. Is this a fair critique? What are you saying there? Why those choices?

Lauren asks a lot to follow her, no denying we are rewarded with the overwhelming magic of:
“moonlight sweltering over my estrangement:”

“indigo unrealities in me undulating:
king in exile, vagabond in a siren's dream
of the sweet blue of East and sapphires.”

From a secondary source, I found out English is a second language for her, and from certain clues, in her writings my guess is you would be Portuguese. Is this true? And if, may I ask where did you learn English?

One of the other purposes here, should be a discussion on influences, styles, technique of writing. Lauren, feel free to take this thread in any direction you want.

(I will note both of these are over a year old)
Any questions on:
Prodigal of Blue

http://english.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=111016

Tangled Fluorescence

http://english.literotica.com/stories/showstory.php?id=81445

 

[twelveoone]

Prodigal of Blue

Prodigal of Blue
by Lauren Hynde ©

In a dream of Iris, drowned by fire and gold,
come memories of a distant time of blue,
amidst veils of tulle, of blood tainted sails,
a time slender and light, a time-twofold.

Through a second, my senses were colours
come into bud on my yearnings' garden
in distances surpassed with joyous hearts,
for there blossomed the Island of Delights.

Gold would downpour if I thought of the stars,
moonlight sweltering over my estrangement:
Nights-lagoons, perfect portrait of beauty,
underneath terraces-de-lis of remembrance.

Time--arpeggio of inter-reverie and moon
where the hours irreversibly ran of jade,
when the tropical haze was ravenous
and the light--urge of a nude goddess,

baluster of resonance, arches of worship,
bridges of shimmer, ogees of fragrance,
ineffable dominion of combustion and opium
in a cold colour I shan't ever inhabit anew;

tapestries of different Persias farther East,
draperies of distant Chinas and more ivory,
auric sanctuaries for satin ceremonies,
fountains of shadow, running fearfully,

and unrealized domes--pantheons of desires
yearns for the infinite and ocean cathedrals
stairways of honour, steps alone, of air
new Byzantiums--souls, new Turkeys.

Fluid memories, a brocade of ashes,
indigo unrealities in me undulating:
king in exile, vagabond in a siren's dream
of the sweet blue of East and sapphires.

 

[twelveoone]

Tangled Fluorescence

Tangled Fluorescence
by Lauren Hynde ©

Rain tries to dilute
the progression of shadows
an exercise rendered useless
by the passage of time

a dark substance
contrasts neon signs
delivers them fully legible
to the night

moss grows without the support
of walls like budding
on a bath of vapour
a permeable mist
where light flows
condensed within

the glass and the water
multiplies it

numberless crystal
(re)flexing colours on the air

breaks
drop by drop

always the percussion
of an obsessive hum
rushes a fabricated winter
until the fractured letters
spill through the windows

scintillate through our sleep
foam spills off the screen
soap, or sea
but for now it's only time
and rain
trying to dilute
the progression of shadows

the progression of time
builds a rainbow
above the haze
where we can light

a single jet of fluoride

flames out of winter
from heaven to heaven
to same cloud forgetting
all horizon references
make familiar strange places

the light the day

we imagine different times
relearning how to breathe
the ephemeral air of each room
when neon fog fights the rain
illuminates us without diluting
the weight of the crepuscule
and our tangled fluorescence.

 

[twelveoone]

Re: Prodigal of Blue

Prodigal of Blue
by Lauren Hynde ©

In a dream of Iris, drowned by fire and gold,

Through a second, my senses were colours

moonlight sweltering over my estrangement:

Time--arpeggio of inter-reverie and moon

Lauren, I spent over a day thinking about this. It is worth it, I find it both fascinating and frustrating.

"moonlight sweltering over my estrangement:"
has to be one of the best lines I've ever seen, the wording fits in so well with the overall shimmering effect of the poem.

"inter-reverie"
bothers me, either it is an incorrect usage, or it is done quite deliberately
(google it - two hits) What is the meaning here?

Can you explain the relationship of these four lines to each other?

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Hello, 1201, and thank you for taking your time to analyse my work and initiate this discussion.

I will start by addressing some of the comments you made in the introduction, before proceeding to your specific questions referring to Prodigal of Blue.

It is my firm conviction that communication must be at the basis of poetry as of all other forms of writing, and if the message is lost in the process, so is its point. On this, I think we all agree. However, as with everything, the problem is that the world isn't black-and-white. For any poem, there are as many possible interpretations of the message as there are readers, and they are all legitimate.

One characteristic of my poetry, and one that I inherited from the artists, writers and poets I grew up with, is the merger of the traditional Iberian magical realism with a form of concrete dreamscape expressionism. Sounds like a mouthful, but it's the best way to put it.

In any of my poems, there are layers of understanding that must be explored. Depending on how much you, the reader, are willing to invest in the process, you can penetrate deeper into those layers. As you say, I ask a lot from my readers if they're interested in what you'd call complete understanding, but the concept of complete understanding is overrated. The richness of a poem is a function of how many different ways it can be interpreted and touch different readers, rather than how many readers it can reach in the first place.

Ideally, and I believe I have been successful in that aspect, any one reader will be able to take something from any one poem. You may not recognise the concrete images of Prodigal of Blue, you may not understand the specific usage of a word or a symbol, but you can intuit, even on a first read, the underlying theme.

Many advocate the usage of stripped-down language and clear-cut imagery as a way of reaching all the potential audience equally. To me, that is the same as writing for the lowest common denominator, which, popular as it may be, has little artistic value. The Grishams may sell millions of paperbacks, but it's the Saramagos who will be remembered.

When I write, I use precise terms to invoke concrete images, I don't rummage through dictionaries and thesauruses in search of words that will baffle you and make my poetry look artsy. I don't take any particular pleasure from entropic constructs or abstruse images. My poetry uses the same words that I normally use in my everyday life (or their direct Portuguese counterparts). Tulle, baluster, ogees, crepuscule, all have precise meanings and connotations to which no other words could correspond. Admittedly, some of those words may have an unfamiliar resonance to the ears of some readers if taken out of context, but it's a trade-off I have never hesitated to do. At worst, that unfamiliarity will contribute to immerse you in the almost hallucinogenic atmosphere you mentioned; at best, it will force you to pause, reread, and discover new meanings, new subtleties, and new layers of understanding. Others will tell you, from my reviews of their poems, how attentive I am to the significance of the sound of each word against their context.


Responses to your specific questions to follow.

 

[twelveoone]

Re: Prodigal of Blue

Prodigal of Blue
by Lauren Hynde ©


baluster of resonance, arches of worship,
bridges of shimmer, ogees of fragrance,....

and unrealized domes--pantheons of desires
yearns for the infinite and ocean cathedrals
stairways of honour, steps alone, of air....
.

notes consistency in terms used, (took me awhile)
"My poetry uses the same words that I normally use in my everyday life" (here I smile, this took me awhile also)

"..baluster, ogees, all have precise meanings and connotations to which no other words could correspond."

Lets focus on these two, we both agree they have precise meanings, we may have a different defination of "connotations" , here is what I am using "The set of associations implied by a word in addition to its literal meaning."
If that is what you mean, what added associations do you see with them?

What I was suggesting is a possible purging of too many unfamiliar terms - it did break the hallucinogenic atmosphere I was in, and I hate when that happens.

 

[jthserra]

.

 

[Liar]

Re: Re: Prodigal of Blue

What I was suggesting is a possible purging of too many unfamiliar terms - it did break the hallucinogenic atmosphere I was in, and I hate when that happens.

If I may be so bold to make a renegade analysis.... And guess what, I will be so bold.

(Um, who am I adressing ths post to? Lauren or 1201? Let's adress it to The Public. It's not to be impersonal, but it's damn confusing to talk to two persons at the same time. )

I think 1201 have a certain aspect under focus there. Wether it's Lauren's intention or not, seeing as she says that every word and phrase, as obscure it may seem to a chosen reader, is exact and could not be replaced with a "plainer" substitute, I still see a play on the style dimension axis from poem to poem by her. The style axis, a choice of vocabulary if you may, that precedes the choice of actual words, is a very imprecise puppy, a dab and a swab of approximates leaning in the direction of a mood that the poet or writer wants to create. Some poems, like Prodigal of Blue, require a certain set of refrences, and a certain density of those references to convey a, for the lack of a better word (but I'm sure Lauren has one ), gut feeling, or athmosphere. Another poem, like the recent Berlin - Los Angeles would not had survived the high style eloquence of Prodigal.

So my question to Lauren is: Am I seeing ghosts or are there adaptation of your vocabulary range based not on the reader, but on the message instead? Do you play the style violin, or does it just happen?

#L

 

[Angeline]

In Praise of Lauren

Well it turns out I still exist after all (I asked myself if I do, and I answered "yeah," so I must). And given that I do I have to comment on Lauren's poetry.

Lauren is the first poet I met online and here. We posted our first efforts here within days of each other (me after she encouraged me to do it), and we have always edited each others' poems. I have to say that Lauren probably understands what I try to do in my poems, where I want them to go better than anyone. She is very insightful. (If I ever win the lottery, I'll pay her for this service.)

Now Lauren is not always an easy poet to read. Her poems are very referential and (imho) reflect her varied interests as well as her culture. And I know, having spent many many (many, lol) hours over the past few years talking in im with her that she talks that way too. She is very well read and has an amazing English vocabulary.

Of course, as she is well aware, words have shades of meanings, some words have many different meanings and what may be precise for her, in terms of her intentions when she writes, will be interpreted differently by a reader, often a reader who doesn't have her cultural references. I do think, btw, that she adjusts this in her writing depending on her intended audience. Certainly when we discuss poems, we often talk about whether a particular word or phrase clarifies the intended meaning.

Her poetry has evolved though in the few years I've known her. Her earliest efforts here I think were more traditionally tied to what I'd think of as a Latin-culture sort of voice. I see echoes of Neruda and Paz, Vallejo, even some Italian poets, in her stuff. The dreamy quality, particularly in the way it's used to describe landscapes, is there. But her native Portugal also gave the world Fernando Pessoa, the wonderfully quirky Post-Modernist (think Neruda and Salvadore Dali combined in a poet and you get something like Pessoa). She has always had that post modern sensibility in her writing, too.

I think this combination gives her poems--especially some of the earlier ones--that hallucinatory quality. She uses very vivid, even extreme, language so that if her poem were a painting it might be like something done by the Fauves or even Van Gogh or Munch--dreamy but brilliantly, sometimes even disturbingly, so.

More recently (I think since Stylization of Self), she has incorporated her interest in writers like Bret Easton Ellis to communicate a darkly modern, urban awareness in her poetry. I've also thought she reflects her time spent online, talking with our global village of voices to pick up dialects--she certainly has the modern Gen X (Y? Z?) American voice down.

I also think her recent forays into prose have moved her in another direction. Her recent Berlin-Los Angeles is an excellent example of the way she has come to marry poetry to prose in her writing.

But the main thing about Lauren is she's really versatile. She can write a poem like Stylization, but she can produce beautiful Petrachan sonnets and vilanelles, too. I have learned to never set an expectation with her--she always takes it somewhere different or new for her.

I'm so glad her poems are being discussed in this thread 1201. She's got a fascinating mind and quite a poetic gift. Read all her poems, everyone. Yeah, as you can tell, I love her, but she really is very talented.


Ange

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Prodigal of Blue
by Lauren Hynde ©

In a dream of Iris, drowned by fire and gold,
[...]
Through a second, my senses were colours
[...]
moonlight sweltering over my estrangement:
[...]
Time--arpeggio of inter-reverie and moon
[...]

Lauren, I spent over a day thinking about this. It is worth it, I find it both fascinating and frustrating.

"moonlight sweltering over my estrangement:"
has to be one of the best lines I've ever seen, the wording fits in so well with the overall shimmering effect of the poem.

"inter-reverie"
bothers me, either it is an incorrect usage, or it is done quite deliberately
(google it - two hits) What is the meaning here?

Can you explain the relationship of these four lines to each other?

No, it's pointless explain the relationship of these four lines to each other. What I can do is explain each of them in the wider context of the poem. How is that?

Prodigal of Blue was written as part of a same-title challenge here in the board (you'll find a number of Prodigal of Blue poems here) and, in retrospect, it was probably the first glosa I wrote. The motto for it came from Dante's The Divine Comedy:

Dolce color d'orïental zaffiro,
che s'accoglieva nel sereno aspetto
del mezzo, puro infinito al primo giro,

a li occhi miei ricominciò diletto,
tosto ch'io usci' fuor de l'aura morta
che m'avea contristati li occhi e 'l petto.

(Soft coloring of oriental sapphire,
Collecting in the calm face of the sky,
Clear right up to the edge of the horizon,

Brought back delight again into my eyes
As soon as I stepped out from the dead air
Which overburdened both my sight and breast.)

-- Dante Alighieri (1265-1321)
The Divine Comedy, Purgatory I:13-15

The closing verse of Prodigal of Blue, "the sweet blue of East and sapphires", was an adaptation of a more accurate translation of Dante's first line, "sweet colour of eastern sapphire". The rest of the poem unfolded from that seed.

The story told in Prodigal of Blue has both an historical and a mythological basis. It portrays the final stage of Vasco da Gama's voyage to India in 1498, namely the first arrival to the Indian Ocean and what it meant to the world of then, and the arrival to the Island of Delights as described in "Os Lusiadas" by Luis de Camões in 1572, the mythological island where Vasco da Gama first disembarked, prepared by the overseeing Olympian gods as their just reward.

It's under that light that many of the references can be understood: Iris, the Greek deity of the rainbow and messenger of the gods; the "fire and gold" of the sun set against the backdrop of blue that received the ships, after crossing the Cape of Storms (then renamed Good Hope); the veils of tulle, of blood tainted sails, bearers of the Christ Knights’ Order cross, the Portuguese naval banner; the approach to "my yearnings' garden" of the Island of Delights.

What follows is a juxtaposition of the dream those explorers sought and of descriptions of both the riches and opulence found in the god-given mythological island and the riches and opulence found in the East: gold, jewellery, beauty, palaces of wealth and lavishness, new Persias, new Chinas, new Byzantiums, new Turkeys (at the time, synonyms of sophistication of culture and treasures unbound). The territory of that juxtaposition, the frontier between inter-reverie (quite deliberate ) and reality, is always shifting, though, immaterial and illusory:

Fluid memories, a brocade of ashes,
indigo unrealities in me undulating:
king in exile, vagabond in a siren's dream
of the sweet blue of East and sapphires.

Armed with all this information, you would certainly get a greater insight into the poem, and would be able to reach one of those deeper layers of understanding I mentioned before, but does the poem really demand it? Without knowing these details, without getting fixated on the reason behind each word and each meaning, didn't the true message, the true meaning of the poem get through?

One of the things that left me quite pleased with this poem was that even though I was certain that very few would understand the specifics behind it (although I did get a message from someone in Malaysia who immediately did), I was overwhelmed by the reception it had, and by the variety of interpretations people made of it.

Prodigal of Blue
by Lauren Hynde ©

[...]
baluster of resonance, arches of worship,
bridges of shimmer, ogees of fragrance,
[...]
and unrealized domes--pantheons of desires
[...]
stairways of honour, steps alone, of air
[...]

notes consistency in terms used, (took me awhile)
"My poetry uses the same words that I normally use in my everyday life" (here I smile, this took me awhile also)

"..baluster, ogees, all have precise meanings and connotations to which no other words could correspond."

Lets focus on these two, we both agree they have precise meanings, we may have a different defination of "connotations" , here is what I am using "The set of associations implied by a word in addition to its literal meaning."
If that is what you mean, what added associations do you see with them?

What I was suggesting is a possible purging of too many unfamiliar terms - it did break the hallucinogenic atmosphere I was in, and I hate when that happens.

"Connotations" is a word with an objective meaning, so I guess we're safe there.

Balusters and ogees (together with arches, bridges, cathedrals, stairways...) form a body of architectural concepts (as opposed to the more bucolic set formed by gardens, lagoons and terraces-de-lis earlier in the poem) that is an important part of both the sophistication of the eastern cultures they found and the estrangement they represented.

On a strictly literal level, I could have opted for "handrails" or "banisters", but the word "baluster" is, in itself and in its sound, baroque and unfamiliar, and therefore a much more apt choice to represent a baroque and unfamiliar element of a baroque and unfamiliar culture.

To know when too much is too much is the trick, and I am sorry it crossed that barrier for you, but every time you put a word into (real or metaphoric) paper, you're taking a risk. Different people have different breaking points. At least I can expect you to understand why, to me, each word had a reason to be that specific word or none at all.

 

[WickedEve]

Just reading what you wrote above, Lauren, and thinking of how I explain my poetry "I go into a poetry trance."

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Just reading what you wrote above, Lauren, and thinking of how I explain my poetry "I go into a poetry trance."

I got a headache from writing it. It's been well over a year and a half.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

I think 1201 have a certain aspect under focus there. Wether it's Lauren's intention or not, seeing as she says that every word and phrase, as obscure it may seem to a chosen reader, is exact and could not be replaced with a "plainer" substitute, I still see a play on the style dimension axis from poem to poem by her. The style axis, a choice of vocabulary if you may, that precedes the choice of actual words, is a very imprecise puppy, a dab and a swab of approximates leaning in the direction of a mood that the poet or writer wants to create. Some poems, like Prodigal of Blue, require a certain set of refrences, and a certain density of those references to convey a, for the lack of a better word (but I'm sure Lauren has one ), gut feeling, or athmosphere. Another poem, like the recent Berlin - Los Angeles would not had survived the high style eloquence of Prodigal.

So my question to Lauren is: Am I seeing ghosts or are there adaptation of your vocabulary range based not on the reader, but on the message instead? Do you play the style violin, or does it just happen?

#L

I like to jump from one style to the next. Different poems have different messages and different souls, and as you see by the longwinded explanation above, some poems must be written with a determined level of language, such as Prodigal. It has a lot to do with that gut feeling you mention and that I hope to have clarified when I explained the choice of the word "baluster". It's more than just the word and its absolute meaning. It's also its sound and how it contributes or not to any of the different levels of the message you're trying to transmit. Sometimes you have to sacrifice immediate recognition of a word in exchange for its symbolic meaning or for its resonance.

Berlin - Los Angeles is a different animal altogether. It is now, it is cutthroat, and the language has to obey first and foremost to that objective: pace and aggressiveness. No time for double takes or stumbling in unfamiliar words. The hidden layers of meaning can be there, the ambiguity, but it all comes from concrete images, from scenes that zig when you'd expect them to zag, but the language can't admit second-guessings.

The best part of having a vocabulary is that you don't have to use it to its full extent all the time.

 

[twelveoone]

No, it's pointless explain the relationship of these four lines to each other. What I can do is explain each of them in the wider context of the poem. How is that?



This is fine, what I was looking for.
I accept the reasons for the use of the words, well done.
Here is what I am looking at:
Time sense was a little thrown off for me, in 1453 Byzantium ceased to exist. So that threw me, the context is fine, just I was a little thrown.
When I look at something, I look at anomalies, gold repeated three times, more correctly 2 golds, one auric; fine excellent colour balance 2 blues, one sapphires, where does she mean the metal where does she mean the colour? This is fine, works beautiful
I noticed the technical precision of the words, I noticed how they were related, curious as to why you used some of them, then "inter-reverie" leaps to my attention, something must be important about this "inter" prefixing "reverie" it seems either contradictory, redundant, or it has some other meaning, between, between what?
I did not get a definition, an explanation, again why is "inter" important here?

 

[twelveoone]

I hope you all understand, I do have to play a bit of devil's advocate to prevent this from becoming a vanity thread. I do have issues with this poem, sorry it gave you a headache. It is, I believe so close, so close to nearing perfection, I don't advocate dumbing down, sometimes a little help with the references is nice.

 

[CharleyH]

Hey 1201, I have not participated in the Interacts thus far, but being a Hynde fan, I figured what the hell – she can take it. Prodigal has been the most discussed so far, and so I would like to tackle - like Liar previously with Prodigal - Tangled

In response to your statement: “Then one starts to think, she does not write like an American, nor is quite like an Englishman, nor an Indian.” I would say true, since most native writers, such as myself, can barely write the language as well as she. lol As for her headache – I am certain she got it writing, since it took her a year and a half to construct her response, and lol, I am certain she is not joking.

Anyway, onwards . . . I found Tangled Flourescence to be a rich, I would venture abstract didactic poem with an overall melancholic mood re: the struggle to understand something unexplainable that should be clear but is not, particularly in the deep recesses of the mind as indicated by word choices: shadows, windows, sleep – all psychoanalytic referencials. I feel strongly that this poem deals with an elusive psychological entity since there are multiple references to ‘diluting the shadows’ in conjunction to references to alchemy and chemicals:

The glass and the water
multiplies it

numberless crystal
(re)flexing colours on the air

The title itself (in my reading) refers to an internal web of confusion that two souls seem brought into whether they like it or not. The poem addresses two individuals we/us/our, as if they are in this web together, and yet what strikes me most is the word fluorescence. It is an unflattering light, but more so, it is the kind of light that you find in institutions but not typically in the home. I had this in mind when reading the remainder of the poem.

Overall, Lauren sometimes uses the English language in a beautifully figurative way. I do not need to point this out, as I think that everyone would agree to that point. Other times she pushes language and structure to its full potential with explosive impact.

a single jet of fluoride
and
(re)flexing colours on the air

I find this poem structurally reflects the nature of the subject asforemetioned, the desire to understand and navigate through the amorphous shadows of the mind.

Like the mind, which is abstract, the poem lacks any substantial form and by this I mean there is no consistency of structural repetition, no conventional pattern like in a sonnet, if you will, and yet, of course, there is both pattern and structure, there is both simplicity and complexity of form.

Each stanza can stand alone, and alone each seems at first unconnected to the next. Yet, in its figurative totality it is a coherent, progressive comment on the seen and unseen, artifice or persona if you will, and shadow. It is the desire for understanding that moves the poem forward, and the understanding comes in an abstract and symbolic form. Neon is not very visible in day. Colours and understanding exist only at night, in the mind itself, yet not cohesively I gather - understanding as illusion perhaps.

Sound choices reflect a rhythm of lingering progression toward the end, a careful assessment of the narrator to understand, noted in the an abundance of similar consonants, sounds that are slowing and reflect gentle carefulness: s’s, b’s, l’s, f’s.

In addition, the poem moves cyclical in time from spring/summer: rain, moss, budding, to winter: flames out of winter, cloud and in essence it is a movement from life to death, from hope: builds a rainbow to hopelessness – the neon, the light can never dilute the weight of the crepuscule and our tangled flourescence. and back again to spring and rain, a cycle, this time beginning with this futility or hopelessness.

I find the poem absurd in theme, and by this I mean it follows what I know of mid-20th century playwrites in their nihilistic, possibly existential view of communication.

I am drawn heavily to semiotics, and so, to me as a reader, the nuances of a word choice, the connotations and denotations of codes and signs, and the multiplicity of meaning derived from aspects of poetic or narrative content/form, are exceptionally important. Lauren’s poetry is excitingly accessible to me in this way.

Communication is important indeed. “tulle, baluster, ogees, crepuscule, all correct, technically narrow terms . . .”

This is something that completely fascinates me when I read her work. In a world where a word as simple as ‘chair’ can have so many different cultural, psychological or ideological implications, the precision of some of her choices narrows the field of meaning to me, which is an admirable and painstaking semiotic accomplishment. I think that many might view the use of such words as a form of literary snobbery, but I, in terms of this discussion and my experience of Lauren’s poetry, find it exemplifies greater control in directing the intended meaning of her poem. If for example she had have chosen twilight instead of crepuscule, think how the overall meaning of the particular line would have altered, and quite possibly have altered the greater meaning of the overall poem. Twilight offers a sound of hope, it is the place of beginnings and of lovers who meet. Crepuscule offers the unfamiliar, and in the cutting sound alone, a kind of antithesis to twilight fitting with the end of the poem, which is in my opinion, the narrator’s realization that there is no hope to understand that which is illuminated by an artifice to begin with.

What I have noticed more recently is her traversing of style in her poems. I agree with Angeline that Lauren is taking on contemporary influences. I did note Ellis in her most recent poem Berlin – Los Angeles, particularly the line, But things, baby, things and the poem itself is noir in nature referencing that part of L.A. seen as Hollywood. I have also noted a change in her recent poetry from an almost academic distance in POV, to one imbued with powerful emotion as in I can love you… and Tongues

I am enjoying her versatility and growth as a poet.

As for what I have just said – lol – well, I could be completely off my rocker, but unless I continue with my dissertation on Ms. Hynde, I doubt I myself, will ever know unless she gives it up.

And that is my invitation. lol

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Here is what I am looking at:

Time sense was a little thrown off for me, in 1453 Byzantium ceased to exist. So that threw me, the context is fine, just I was a little thrown.

That is true, but think of how many times New York has been called the new Rome. Regardless of the concrete situation of Byzantium at that time (in reality, Constantinople: Byzantium had been renamed in 330), the concept of Byzantium as a superior cultural entity lived on. It was almost regarded as the centre of the world, and combining, at once, the power and influence that came from being Imperial Rome's heir, and the mystique that surrounded its pivotal position between Europe and Asia.

When I look at something, I look at anomalies, gold repeated three times, more correctly 2 golds, one auric; fine excellent colour balance 2 blues, one sapphires, where does she mean the metal where does she mean the colour? This is fine, works beautiful

I noticed the technical precision of the words, I noticed how they were related, curious as to why you used some of them, then "inter-reverie" leaps to my attention, something must be important about this "inter" prefixing "reverie" it seems either contradictory, redundant, or it has some other meaning, between, between what?

I did not get a definition, an explanation, again why is "inter" important here?

"Inter-" is used with a double meaning. If looking only at "inter-reverie", then yes, it does seem almost pleonastic. All reverie is internal. But that prefix also means "in the midst of, within".

Time--arpeggio of inter-reverie and moon
where the hours irreversibly ran of jade,
when the tropical haze was ravenous
and the light--urge of a nude goddess

In the context of the poem, "inter-" prefixes not only the reverie, but also the moon and the world "where the hours irreversibly ran of jade", a world where the border between what is real and what is dream, what exists only in your heart and yearns, is fluid and ambiguous.

I hope you all understand, I do have to play a bit of devil's advocate to prevent this from becoming a vanity thread. I do have issues with this poem, sorry it gave you a headache. It is, I believe so close, so close to nearing perfection, I don't advocate dumbing down, sometimes a little help with the references is nice.

LOL - Thanks. I do understand.

I was joking about the headache. I had been having it all day and it had nothing to do with this thread. (Although the time spent in front of the computer writing that reply probably didn't help. )

***

PS: I'll get to Angeline's and Charley's posts in a bit, after I have time to breathe, but thank you!

 

[Liar]

"Connotations" is a word with an objective meaning, so I guess we're safe there.

Balusters and ogees (together with arches, bridges, cathedrals, stairways...) form a body of architectural concepts (as opposed to the more bucolic set formed by gardens, lagoons and terraces-de-lis earlier in the poem) that is an important part of both the sophistication of the eastern cultures they found and the estrangement they represented.

On a strictly literal level, I could have opted for "handrails" or "banisters", but the word "baluster" is, in itself and in its sound, baroque and unfamiliar, and therefore a much more apt choice to represent a baroque and unfamiliar element of a baroque and unfamiliar culture.

See, this is the thing. I haven't got the foggiest clue what a baluster is, nor did I feel the need to look it up. Because to this reader, it doesn't matter. It's more of a dab of paint on an impressionistic painting. I don't know what every blob represents, but the overall picture is very lush and vivid.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

See, this is the thing. I haven't got the foggiest clue what a baluster is, nor did I feel the need to look it up. Because to this reader, it doesn't matter. It's more of a dab of paint on an impressionistic painting. I don't know what every blob represents, but the overall picture is very lush and vivid.

That's exactly what I meant. Thanks.

 

[twelveoone]

Hey 1201, I have not participated in the Interacts thus far, but being a Hynde fan, I figured what the hell – she can take it. Prodigal has been the most discussed so far, and so I would like to tackle - like Liar previously with Prodigal - Tangled

In response to your statement: “Then one starts to think, she does not write like an American, nor is quite like an Englishman, nor an Indian.” I would say true, since most native writers, such as myself, can barely write the language as well as she. lol As for her headache – I am certain she got it writing, since it took her a year and a half to construct her response, and lol, I am certain she is not joking.

Anyway, onwards . . . I found Tangled Flourescence to be a rich, I would venture abstract didactic poem with an overall melancholic mood re: the struggle to understand something unexplainable that should be clear but is not, particularly in the deep recesses of the mind as indicated by word choices: shadows, windows, sleep – all psychoanalytic referencials. I feel strongly that this poem deals with an elusive psychological entity since there are multiple references to ‘diluting the shadows’ in conjunction to references to alchemy and chemicals:

The glass and the water
multiplies it

numberless crystal
(re)flexing colours on the air

The title itself (in my reading) refers to an internal web of confusion that two souls seem brought into whether they like it or not. The poem addresses two individuals we/us/our, as if they are in this web together, and yet what strikes me most is the word fluorescence. It is an unflattering light, but more so, it is the kind of light that you find in institutions but not typically in the home. I had this in mind when reading the remainder of the poem.

Overall, Lauren sometimes uses the English language in a beautifully figurative way. I do not need to point this out, as I think that everyone would agree to that point. Other times she pushes language and structure to its full potential with explosive impact.

a single jet of fluoride
and
(re)flexing colours on the air

I find this poem structurally reflects the nature of the subject asforemetioned, the desire to understand and navigate through the amorphous shadows of the mind.

Like the mind, which is abstract, the poem lacks any substantial form and by this I mean there is no consistency of structural repetition, no conventional pattern like in a sonnet, if you will, and yet, of course, there is both pattern and structure, there is both simplicity and complexity of form.

Each stanza can stand alone, and alone each seems at first unconnected to the next. Yet, in its figurative totality it is a coherent, progressive comment on the seen and unseen, artifice or persona if you will, and shadow. It is the desire for understanding that moves the poem forward, and the understanding comes in an abstract and symbolic form. Neon is not very visible in day. Colours and understanding exist only at night, in the mind itself, yet not cohesively I gather - understanding as illusion perhaps.

Sound choices reflect a rhythm of lingering progression toward the end, a careful assessment of the narrator to understand, noted in the an abundance of similar consonants, sounds that are slowing and reflect gentle carefulness: s’s, b’s, l’s, f’s.

In addition, the poem moves cyclical in time from spring/summer: rain, moss, budding, to winter: flames out of winter, cloud and in essence it is a movement from life to death, from hope: builds a rainbow to hopelessness – the neon, the light can never dilute the weight of the crepuscule and our tangled flourescence. and back again to spring and rain, a cycle, this time beginning with this futility or hopelessness.

I find the poem absurd in theme, and by this I mean it follows what I know of mid-20th century playwrites in their nihilistic, possibly existential view of communication.

I am drawn heavily to semiotics, and so, to me as a reader, the nuances of a word choice, the connotations and denotations of codes and signs, and the multiplicity of meaning derived from aspects of poetic or narrative content/form, are exceptionally important. Lauren’s poetry is excitingly accessible to me in this way.

Communication is important indeed. “tulle, baluster, ogees, crepuscule, all correct, technically narrow terms . . .”

This is something that completely fascinates me when I read her work. In a world where a word as simple as ‘chair’ can have so many different cultural, psychological or ideological implications, the precision of some of her choices narrows the field of meaning to me, which is an admirable and painstaking semiotic accomplishment. I think that many might view the use of such words as a form of literary snobbery, but I, in terms of this discussion and my experience of Lauren’s poetry, find it exemplifies greater control in directing the intended meaning of her poem. If for example she had have chosen twilight instead of crepuscule, think how the overall meaning of the particular line would have altered, and quite possibly have altered the greater meaning of the overall poem. Twilight offers a sound of hope, it is the place of beginnings and of lovers who meet. Crepuscule offers the unfamiliar, and in the cutting sound alone, a kind of antithesis to twilight fitting with the end of the poem, which is in my opinion, the narrator’s realization that there is no hope to understand that which is illuminated by an artifice to begin with.

What I have noticed more recently is her traversing of style in her poems. I agree with Angeline that Lauren is taking on contemporary influences. I did note Ellis in her most recent poem Berlin – Los Angeles, particularly the line, But things, baby, things and the poem itself is noir in nature referencing that part of L.A. seen as Hollywood. I have also noted a change in her recent poetry from an almost academic distance in POV, to one imbued with powerful emotion as in I can love you… and Tongues

I am enjoying her versatility and growth as a poet.

As for what I have just said – lol – well, I could be completely off my rocker, but unless I continue with my dissertation on Ms. Hynde, I doubt I myself, will ever know unless she gives it up.

And that is my invitation. lol

This is interesting; let me make one statement here, the observation that she does not write like an American et al, was merely that, nothing more, there are certain differences in style, in time, in country.
But, please, if you will, go on. If you wish do a line by line "Tangled Flourescence" - tell me what you see.

 

[CharleyH]

This is interesting; let me make one statement here, the observation that she does not write like an American et al, was merely that, nothing more, there are certain differences in style, in time, in country.
But, please, if you will, go on. If you wish do a line by line "Tangled Flourescence" - tell me what you see.

I know, I was teasing you my friend - sorry. I would like Lauren to answer, or others to rebut my assessment.

Perhaps you, since you bring the poem up? Lets discuss.

 

[twelveoone]

I know, I was teasing you my friend - sorry I am major sarcatic. I would like Lauren to answer, or others to rebut my assessment.

Perhaps you, since you bring the poem up? Lets discuss.

looked like you were on a roll..., I would like to see it, it would be interesting if Lauren agreed with the assessment.

 

[twelveoone]

Q. semiotic is?
What is it used for?

 

[twelveoone]

HTwilight offers a sound of hope, it is the place of beginnings and of lovers who meet. Crepuscule offers the unfamiliar, and in the cutting sound alone, a kind of antithesis to twilight fitting with the end of the poem, which is in my opinion, the narrator’s realization that there is no hope to understand that which is illuminated by an artifice to begin with.

Crepuscule does offers the unfamiliar, and in the cutting sound alone, (I suspect she pronounces it a little less cutting)a kind of antithesis to twilight

Twilight offers a sound of hope, it is the place of beginnings and of lovers

Twilight of the Gods
Twilight of the Idols
Twilight Zone
Twilight Sleep
Antithesis may be a bit of an overstatement

"Crepuscule" shocked me, because I pronounced it the way I would, and that would ruin it

 

[CharleyH]

Q. semiotic is?
What is it used for?

Semiotics is the study of signs: symbols, indexes, icons, metaphors etc. in the context of language (Ferdinand de Saussure), film (Christian Metz) and communications (Charles Pierce). Possibly more contexts, but these are the ones I have studied and am familiar with. It is basically used in analysis to narrow meaning. It breaks down a sign into two parts - the signifier and signified.