Monday, May 16, 2011

Greek Easter: Eternal flames, Extravagant Feasts and Red Super Eggs


Greek Easter: Eternal flames, Extravagant Feasts and Red Super Eggs

  
Imagine this: you’re in Greece, in a small village-suburb of Athens. It’s ten to midnight, you are standing in the street with a hundred other Greeks and all the lights in the village are out. You can feel strong coastal breezes on this unseasonably cool April night, though your Greek friend tells you it’s always this windy. Men, women, children, grandparents, teenagers—the whole community are standing in groups, facing a white stucco church’s bell tower, waiting. You notice that young women are teetering on stiletto heels, standing in potholes and cracked tiled sidewalks. They’re dressed to the nines, arm-in-arm with their Ya-Yas (grandmothers) who don layers upon layers of large black scarves over their heads and bodies. You’ve been given a long white candle, told it’s called a labatha. There’s an energy in the crowd, a sense of anticipation, or maybe they’re just really hungry, eager to end lent and get back to their homes where a midnight feast awaits.

Over the heads of the crowd, you hear a Priest orating a sermon in Greek, and you notice people are taking out their candles. The bell clock strikes midnight and the Priest says “Christos Anesti,” which means ‘Christ is risen’. The crowd returns with “Alithos Anesti,” which means ‘truly, He is risen’. Suddenly the bells start ringing, fireworks erupt behind the church, and everyone’s faces are alight. You’re probably picturing a few fizzling sparks here and there--but this is a serious fireworks show! A child squeals beside me, her mother squeezes her hand and smiles. It’s a delightfully dizzying experience.

When the fireworks show has ended, the sky again goes black and one bell rings out its last note. The crowd breaks in front of you, and a man turns towards you, his hand sheltering his lit candle. He motions for you to light your candle with his. Your candle is now lit, and you do the same, passing your flame to the community standing behind you, patiently and anxiously awaiting your flame. Your Greek friend tells you that this is the Eternal Flame, brought to Greece by military jet, which is in turn passed to local churches all over Greece. You must now bring that flame back to your host’s home, and make a sign of a cross with smoke on their doorframe, symbolizing that the light of the resurrection has blessed the home. If they have to bring it by military jet to Greece, you think, transporting it a few blocks won’t be too hard. The crowd begins to walk down the streets, through lane-ways and one by one, they tuck into their homes for feasting.

A few blocks down, you witness a family get into their car with a lit candle and drive away. At first, you think that’s cheating. But as the winds pick up, your flame is quickly extinguished. You run across the street where a family is sheltering their last lit candle in an alcove. They graciously share their flame, and you walk further down the street, both eyes on the flame, one hand sheltering it from the wind. An elderly woman and her husband are waiting at the next corner, without fire. You help them out, and they say something to you in Greek, which you don’t understand, but you smile anyway. The wind has picked up, and you and your friend decide to use your jacket to protect the flame. Otherwise, you’ll never get across the next block as there are a few derelict and partly destroyed buildings, which won’t give you any shelter. You take one look back, and realize the large crowd has dwindled down and the streets are dark again.

You hear a loud ‘pop’, which sounds much like what you suspect a gunshot or a small bomb would sound like. Your friend reminds you that these happen often, they’re just noisemakers. So, sheltering your candle, with wax dripping down onto your hand (you don’t even feel it now, with all the excitement) you venture across the street. You’re completely invested in getting this flame safely to your host’s home. You’ve seen windows lit up and large families sitting around tables, feasting. You’ve got to get that flame home.

But your Greek friend doesn’t seem as invested as you are. She laughs when you are distraught when the flame finally extinguishes, a few blocks from your destination. She rushes you home to the feast. Her mother has been cooking most of the day, and when you break the news that her home will not be blessed by the resurrection flame, she too laughs and asks if you’re hungry. Your answer to this question will not matter over this Easter weekend of feasting, but it will it change. ‘Yes, please!’ ‘Maybe a bit more.’ ‘No, way too stuffed—okay, okay, more.’

At the table, feta, olives, cucumber, tomatoes, tzatziki, ceviche octopus, meat pie, tsoureki, a traditional Easter-time sweet bread and mayiritsa, the Greek Easter soup made of lamb offal are spread out on the table, with Fix beer to wash it all down. After generous helpings after generous helpings, red Easter eggs are brought out and a traditional Easter game is played. Each person chooses an egg and tries to crack or smash their opponent’s eggs by hitting the tops and bottoms against each other. Your egg is triumphant, and you wonder if you’d be allowed to take your Super Egg home.

Then you’re escorted to their backyard, with promises of more feasting tomorrow. There, you stumble upon a pit dug into their lawn, with two y-shaped metal rods sticking out of the ground. You’re shown a rather pale-looking lamb on a large metal rod and you get a whiff of a delicious garlic, lemon and herb marinade the lamb seems to be bathing in. It’s two a.m. and you’re told you should get some rest, as this lamb needs to be put on the fire at around six a.m.—and you’re in charge of turning the spit. A task that you’ll readily accept! What you’ve realized, or rather, what this writer has realized, is that the sense of community—sharing the Eternal flame, sitting down to a feast, participating in tradition—is what Greek people are all about. Though you don’t have to imagine, you just have to go—with an empty belly, of course. 


Links to online publication!

If you were interested in reading some of my poetry, please check out this wonderful little online zine!

Incongruous Quarterly:  This great new zine publishes, yes, as the title suggests, incongruous poetry & fiction. Their first issue collects that which is 'unpublishable' by mainstream standards for many, many reasons. Be it for strange subject matter, writing that blurs generic lines, or like the poems of mine that they picked up, pieces that just won't fit on a normal page.

Here's the link to my three poems published.


Essay: The Mixtape: Is the Mixtape a Dadaist gesture or just Nude media reclothed?


The Mixtape

How does packaging change the content? The meaning?

Who is the author of these songs? This compilation?

How does the form or medium affect the message?

Is context important to sound?

Is the Mixtape a Dadaist gesture or just Nude media reclothed?
What do Cindy Lauper and an answering machine message have in common?

           
The advent of the affordable, high quality cassette tape and recordable tape deck gave casual (and serious) music fans in the 80’s the authority to become archivists, music producers, music critics, and the authors who created the best song compilation for the “Summer of 1983”, a.k.a. “The Post-Break-up Mix”.  Since then, music has been digitized and distributed on CD-ROMs and through online file-sharing venues, which allowed us to download the audio file onto our computers. The mixtape as we knew it died out and we began to organize and store our music on software programs like iTunes. But many continued the tradition of re-arranging and repackaging our favourite music in playlists and music mash-ups through digital formats, labeled “Death Metal Mania” and “Work-Out Playlists” to be listened to on iPods.  Musicians use samples of music from other genres, and some DJs use found audio exclusively. When we take these audio clips, recordings and files out of their original context, whether they are from a band’s professionally-produced album on vinyl, or a digital MP3 on a peer-sharing site, and re-package them with other audio on an entirely different format, what happens? What is lost? What is gained? How does the presence of one audio file change the other?
        
Let’s look at the mixtape in its original format first, as the form tells us more than the content could. In the 80’s and 90’s, the audiocassette mixtape was inexpensive, small and easy to distribute. It also took hours to create and was hard to duplicate. This meant that the “author” of the mix could personalize the tape for a specific audience, and give it away as a gift. Process becomes important and aesthetics of the mixtape’s curation emerge, as illustrated in Nick Hornby’s High Fidelity:
"To me, making a tape is like writing a letter — there's a lot of erasing and rethinking and starting again. A good compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do. You've got to kick off with a corker, to hold the attention […] and then you've got to up it a notch, or cool it a notch[…] and you can't have two tracks by the same artist, unless you've done the whole thing in pairs, and, oh, there are loads of rules."[1]
Elements of timing are essential, as the author does not want minutes of blank space on either side of the tape, or a song being cut off because there was no more space left on the tape. There are decisions about transitions, juxtapositions and affect to make. While this process has many similar characteristics to high art, how is making a mixtape like writing a letter?

Like composing a letter by placing a series of random words together to create a new meaning, (as William S. Burroughs and Brion Gysin explain: “Writers don’t own their words. Since when do words belong to anybody”[2]), the mixtape author selects audio files to be placed sequentially. These audio selections come from many different sources. This is where context gets interesting. Audio can be taken from radio, vinyl, LPs, other cassettes, 8-tracks, voice and phonograph recordings (though the latter may be rare on the “Metal Mania Mix”) and are re-recorded onto the magnetic tape of the cassette. Because the tape does not have the capability to record the provenance, artist, song or album name, the only way we can understand the recording is from the re-contextualization made by the author.  In effect, the audio is snatched from it’s home, naked[3]. The author may or may not title the cassette; they may or may not write down the origin of the data. Often how this information is produced or not produced becomes meaningful to the new cassette recording. Writing “I love you Jeannette Mix #24” on the tape has a completely different effect than if the list of every song and artist were written on the tape jacket with new original artwork. The new product has become a collage of audio clips cut from their original context and repackaged to create a new meaning.

William S. Burroughs and Brion Gysin re-introduced Tristan Tzara’s Dadaist Cut-up Method to audiences by cutting up sections of a page and reassembling them in a random order. What emerged from Gysin’s piece “Minutes to Go” were random sections of text that emerged “as quite coherent and meaningful prose”[4]. The purpose was to bring new and fresh juxtapositions and combinations of words without the control of the author’s intent by this random process. While the typical mixtape does not fully embrace this random nature, the juxtaposition of songs and audio clips that would not usually be associated together often produce new meanings, new genres of music and new appreciations for sound.

Digitization of these audio clips into digital forms brings a whole new level of repackaging and recontextualization to the mix. Songs can be organized and played at random using “Shuffle” or “Genius” options on iTunes, where a computer, not a human makes the selections. As Lev Manovitch notes in Language of New Media, older audio forms (old media) are transcoded and re-used to create new media, which lends to variability and open interactivity[5]. Playlists can be shared at much greater speeds online, files can be downloaded (legally, illegally), ripped and burned into different forms. (Note the use of terminology: rip, burn, etc). Websites and software like SoundCloud allow users to blend audio to create new songs and then quickly share them. You can comment (text) on audio, you can embed it or link to it, play with distortion and auto-tune it[6]. Each time it is modified, context changes. Does this mean that by participating in making mixtapes and playlists, we are all re-creating a Dadaist poem? Maybe not. Maybe our media and societal practices include the cut-up method in everyday activities.
           


Works Cited/Consulted
Burroughs, William S. “The Cut-Up Method of Brion Gysin”.
.
---, and Brion Gysin. The Third Mind.
burroughs/index.html>.
Gallagher, David F. “For the Mix Tape, A Digital Upgrade and Notoriety”. The New York
Times. Technology, January 30, 2003.
fullpage.html?res=9E0CE7DC1F39F933A05752C0A9659C8B63&sec=&spon=
&pagewanted=all>.
Goldsmith, Kenneth. “The Bride Stripped Bare: Nude Media and the Dematerialization
of Tony Curtis”. .
Hornby, Nick. High Fidelity. New York, New York: Riverhead Essential Editions,
Berkeley Publishing Group, 2005
Keller, Joel. “PCs killed the mix-tape star”. Salon.com. Tech & Biz, January 22, 2004.
Lethem, Jonathan. “The ecstasy of influence: A plagiarism”. Harper’s Magazine,
Manovich, Lev. “Principles of New Media”, “What New Media is Not”. The Language of
New Media. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2001. 49-74.
Paul, James. “Last night a mix tape saved my life”. The Guardian. Culture, Music,
Art of the Mix. Artofthemix.com http://www.artofthemix.org/index.aspx.
SoundCloud. SoundCloud Ltd. http://soundcloud.com/
Mixtape. Mixtape. http://mixtape.me/





[1] Horby, Nick. High Fidelity. New York, New York: Riverhead Essential Editions, Berkeley Publishing Group, 2005, pg 89.
[2] Burroughs, William and Brion Gysin. “The Cut-up Self-Explained”. The Third Mind. New York: Seaver Books, 1978. 34. http://www.ubu.com/historical/burroughs/index.html.

[3] Goldsmith, Kenneth. “The Bride Stripped Bare: Nude Media and the Dematerialization of Tony Curtis”.

[4] Burroughs, William and Brion Gysin. “The Cut-up Self-Explained”. The Third Mind. New York: Seaver Books, 1978. 34. http://www.ubu.com/historical/burroughs/index.html.
[5] Manovich, Lev. “Principles of New Media”. Language of New Media. Cambridge: MIT Press, 2001. 49-74.  
[6] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=civOdWxd4Kc

Essay: The Newspaper as a Camera Lens; How do shapes change the way we read?

The Newspaper as Camera Lens

This idea came to me at five in the morning when I woke up suddenly with the image of my grandfather (a McLuhan enthusiast in life) reading the newspaper with a magnifying glass. As he moved the glass over the page, only certain parts of the text were enlarged, and the other parts were still unreadable. I imagined that every aspect of the news story could fit on the page, however, because he could only read what fit in the frame of the glass, parts of the story were missed. What if enlarging certain parts of the text changed the meaning? What if only the fine print of an advertisement was enlarged and not the product? What if a legend was focused on, but not the map? The map without the legend? The photo without the caption? The blank space between articles?

Then I thought about a new camera lens that my uncle, a professional photographer, had shown me last summer. This tilt-shift lens makes regular-sized objects, people and landscapes look more like lego bits or ant-sized creatures . If one were not aware of this lens, one would most likely believe that this is the work of a very, very, very good miniature model builder. Photographers choose which parts of the world they will fit into their frames, and similarly must select a lens that will highlight (or distort) the parts of the image for a desired reaction to the picture.



Another obvious instance of the lens changing the reality of the image can be seen in these two photos of myself, below. Am I a Siamese twin? No. But I was sitting in view of the lens when the second photo was taken.



The newspaper’s technological and ideological development followed several shifts and the outcome of those changes produced styles which are noted in “News form and the media environment: A Network of Represented Relationships” by John Nerone and Kevin Barnhurst. For example, the first form of the newspaper printed in 1780 to about 1810, was a Printer’s paper and took on the metaphor of a town meeting. The printing press was expensive, and often the printer was the reporter, writer, editor and printer. It was printed under the ideology of being democratic, although it was only read by an elite intellectual few because of literacy rates and the cost of the paper. Early photography similarly was viewed as reflecting an image of the people, however only the elite were photographed because of the cost and time it took to take the photo. These effects had influence on cultural practices and the style of the paper or photograph. Much of the historical developments of each technology had similar movements and consequences.

The frame of the newspaper is just as important as the editor’s interests in shaping what we read and how we interpret that information. Decisions about type, font, ink and paper affect readability as much as layout, advertisement space, corporate policies, agendas and number of images on the page. What the editor decides to focus on (and what to leave out) acts like a photographer’s lens that focuses on one image, but leaves out everything else. Lenses similarly filter out light, enhance colour, reduce haze, give nostalgic effects and merge dual images. There is even a lens called a split field filter, which shows half of the image in a close-up and the other half is blurred out. Lenses are wide-angled, close-ups, long distance, 3-D and tilt shift, and all of those decisions directly effect the image and its meaning. These lenses act as a frame, just as layout in a newspaper frames the news story.

In the Cubist spirit , I have cut out my own clippings from a newspaper and used them to allow us to see how the frame or the lens changes meaning. I cut out seemingly random circles (keeping with the lens metaphor) of one newspaper and show them below with other effects added. I call it Roundism.


The first frame shows the juxtaposition of disparate text placed side-by-side. Without the first and last parts of the headlines, the text reads “…a debate among ultra-Orthodox Jews: How much secular learning is necessary? Page A4 HE’S OUR WORST Don’t trust this man…” Does the editor’s layout take into consideration what happens where two frames collide?


The second frame is two thirds black ink, and one third random text, which reads “recall arizeau referen- s true that eated, but By money essentially.” n the next being 60 or cophones) ll be 63 or suffice.” on was both gn- Jacques Parizeau and wife premier and as lea”. What happens when the focus of the story is on the image? When the image is useless to text, but because of a policy on the number of photographs needed in a paper’s layout (or other factors), they are retained?


Similarly, the third frame is of three different colour blocks, with red blood dripping down the left side. We have no idea why these blocks are in colour or why there is blood dripping down it. Remember that colour pages are more expensive to print, and thus more emphasis is put on coloured pages. But why was emphasis put on these large colour blocks?


The fourth frame is of two different maps and charts that are intended to make information easier to understand. But here, because my frame could only fit in parts of the charts, without the legend, the charts become useless. The text reads “St. Hubert, 16.6% Mont St. Hilare, Delson 15.9%, 2008, 2009, *Montreal police blame the 2009 on improvements in g statistics. Source: Montreal police d our strategies- ( would know whe centrate our effo And making su The Gazette would increa insecurity” ne said. “If I it is the scene ar”. This information is useless.


The fifth frame illustrates what happens when the frame is focused on advertizing. This frame only contains fine print, and half of a coupon to save money on a product. What use is half of a coupon? Or fine print to an unknown product?


The sixth frame was edited by my own lens. The original cut-out was of a section of the newspaper where there was no print. No text, no image, no page number, no lines. Rare. Like a photographer who uses a coloured lens to amplify certain colours and not others in an image, I used a blue highlighter and coloured the white page blue. This changes the appearance (obviously) but it also changes meaning drastically. It is now a newspaper page that has colour ink. Colour ink as mentioned before is more expensive and is used for more ‘important’ stories. The information inside this frame went from being rare, cheap and not highlighting any information, to being more expensive, more common and promoting the colour blue with all of its affects.


The last frame is my favourite. It is a cut out of the only place in the newspaper where you are invited to express your own opinion and make your own choices. It’s the crossword! This is where the newspaper becomes interactive, and the reader makes editorial decisions. It’s also got a pretty pattern that would not necessarily be visible without this circular frame.


Finally, how has my lens changed the information in this newspaper article?


Winning! Honourable mention in Arc Magazine!


How Poems Work Student Essay Contest: The Cogs and Wheels of Hardy Verse
Winners of the How Poems Work Student Essay Contest 2010


Arc is pleased to announce the winners of our How Poems Work Contest. Our National Winner is Lise Gaston of Victoria BC for her analysis of Lorna Crozier’s “What the Snake Brings to the World”. Judge Chris Jennings was impressed by “Gaston’s ability to address several facets of the poem without losing sight of the whole composition. When she talks about source texts, they support rather than determine how she reads Crozier’s poem. When she talks about sound, she acknowledges how important our expectations are to the effect sound has on meaning, and when she talks about meaning, her interpretation is convincing and conclusive without being limiting: it’s true without being the ‘singular’ ‘truth’. 


Honourable mentions go to Nicholas Shuurman of Tillsonburg, Celyn Harding-Jones of Montreal, Susan Steudel of Vancouver, and Julie Lockhart of Calgary. “Shuurman’s reading of Anne Michaels’s ‘Phantom Limbs’ works the central metaphor with confidence and sensitivity. Harding-Jones’s approach to Rita Wong’s ‘write around the absence’ integrates insights on sound, shape, and sense in its brief and attentive analysis. Steudel engages with the intellectual backdrop of Phyllis Webb’s “Socrates” to discuss how effectively Webb addresses the heart via the head, and Lockhart moves through the various associative shifts of Don McKay’s “Dreamskaters” with an ease that mimics the poem’s. There were a number of other impressive entries, and, on the whole, the submissions impressed me with their intellectual sensitivity, their emotional attentiveness, and their concern for technique. Congratulations to the winners, and thanks to all who submitted.”


Visit How Poems Work at Arc Magazine


The Essay:

Poem: Rita Wong’s “write around the absence” from monkeypuzzle


            At first glance, Rita Wong’s poem winds around the page, written over faintly printed Chinese characters. Its shape looks almost like a ying-yang symbol, pointing to another culture of text and symbols other than that of the words on the page, English. This poem works meaning on several levels, it’s physical presence on the page enhancing and influencing the literal meanings of words and the ideas of the poem. The text literally writes around the absence of Chinese characters, exploring the speaker’s mother and “father” tongues. In writing around the absence of a language, the speaker is able to highlight, or frame its existence. The text on the left begins to define “contours,” to show “how it/ tastes,” until the narrator exposes that this language “falls hard/ on my stuttering tongue.” 

The next few lines bridge the complicated connection between English and Chinese tongues, illustrating how the English language has “flattened out [pictograms].” The text then crosses over to the right side of the page, into a critique of the dominant tendencies of English. English language is characterized by it’s colonial past, and it’s “etymology of assimilation.” The two isolated segments of text on either side are an attempt to reconcile the ways in which neither language can be expressed by the other; tones of her Chinese tongue cannot be replicated in English; the narrator lives, like rice, only half submerged in the shallow water/language/culture: elements the speaker is never able to change or integrate. 

Wong seamlessly winds her poem back to the left side of the page as it shifts back into the hands of the “immigrant cleaner”; language belonging “in the hands of the people who produce [wealth].” She suggests that grammar, like the structure of this poem, “holding your/ words in place,” actually opens up limitations and frees tongues by allowing the producers of this language to be in control of this great “wealth.” Wong is able to strengthen her exploration of language through visual movement on the poem that moves to and from two polar opposite sides. She adds levels of depth to her poem by layering text and thus layering meaning. By writing around the absence of two languages, the narrator explores her own Chinese tongue, the oppression of her English tongue, and is able to reconcile both through the handing over of grammar (a prior device for control) to the people. 

From Lemonhound, a response on Mei Mei Brussenbrugge's "Four Year Old Girl".

Published on Lemonhound, an awesomely intelligent and engaging blog that I would encourage you to visit.

An excerpt from Mei Mei Brussebrugge's "Four Year Old Girl".

1
The “genotype” is her genetic constitution.

The “phenotype” is the observable expression of the genotype as structural and bio-chemical traits.

Genetic disease is extreme genetic change, against a background of normal vari-ability.

Within the conventional unit we call subjectivity due to individual particulars, what is happening?

She believes she is herself, which isn’t complete madness, it’s belief.

The problem is not to turn the subject, the effect of the genes, into an entity. Between her and the displaced gene is another relation, the effect of meaning.

The meaning she’s conscious of is contingent, a surface of water in an uninhabited world, existing as our eyes and ears.

You wouldn’t think of her form by thinking about water. You can go in, if you don’t encounter anything.

Though we call heavy sense impressions stress, all impression creates limitation. I believe opaque inheritance accounts for the limits of her memory.

The mental impulse is a thought and a molecule tied together, like sides of a coin.

A girl says sweetly, it’s time you begin to look after me, so I may seem lovable to myself.

She’s inspired to change the genotype, because the cell’s memory outlives the cell. It’s a memory that builds some matter around itself, like time.

2
Feelings of helplessness drove me to fantastic and ridiculous extremes.

Nevertheless, the axis of her helplessness is not the axis I grasp when I consider it a function of inheritance.

Chromatin fails to condense during mitosis.

A fragile site recombines misaligned genes of the repeated sequence.

She seems a little unformed, gauze stretches across her face, eyelids droop.

When excited, she cries like a cat and fully exhibits the “happy puppet” syndrome.

Note short fingers and hypoplastic painted nails.

Insofar as fate is of real order here, signifying embodiment, the perceived was pres-ent in the womb.

A gap or cause presents to any apprehension of attachment.
In her case, there’s purity untainted by force or cause, like the life force.

Where, generically, function creates the mother, in this case it won’t even explain this area.

She screams at her.

A species survives in the form of a girl asking sweetly.

Nevertheless, survival of the species as a whole has meaning.

Each girl is transitory.

3
Her focus extends from in front of her into distance, so she’s not involved in what she looks at.

Rhodopsin in the unaffected gene converts photons to retinal impulse, so she sees normally for years.

The image, the effects of energy starting from a real point, is reflected on a surface, lake or area of the occipital lobe.

You don’t need the whole surface to be aware of a figure, just for some points of real space to correspond to effect at other points.

There’s an image and a struggle to recognize reception of it.

She sees waves and the horizon as if she were water in the water.
The mother’s not looking at her daughter from the place from
which the daughter sees her.

She doesn’t recognize abnormal attributes.

The daughter resolves her mother as fire in the woods, red silk.

In the waiting room, she hopes a large dog will walk up to her, be kind and fulfill her wishes.

Between what occurs by chance and, “Mother, can you see I’m dying?” is the same relation we deal with in recurrence.

Is not what emerges from the anxiety of her speech, their most intimate relation, beyond death, which is their chance?

Obedience to one’s child is anxious, heartfelt, but not continuous, like a white mote in her eye.

Within the range of deteriorating sight, in which sight will be her memory, disobe-dience moves toward unconsciousness.

4
Her skull is large and soft to touch.

The thoracic cavity small, limbs short, deformed and vertebrae flattened.

All the bones are under-mineralized.

Bluish light surrounds her.

This theme concerns her status, since she doesn’t place her inheritance in a position of subjectivity, but of an object.

Her X-ray teems with energy, but locked outside material.
One creates a mouse model of human disease by disrupting a normal mouse gene in vitro, then injecting the mutated gene into host embryos.

DNA integrated into the mouse genome is expressed and transmitted to progeny.

Like touch, one cell can initiate therapy.

The phenotype, whose main task is to transform everything into secondary, kinetic energy, pleasure, innocence, won’t define every subject.

The mother’s genotype makes a parallel reality to her reality, now.
She stands over her and screams.

That the exchange is unreal, not imaginary, doesn’t prevent the organ from embody-ing itself.

By transferring functional copies of the gene to her, he can correct the mutant phe-notype, lightly touching the bad mother, before.

5
On her fourth birthday, a rash on the elbow indicated enzyme deficiency.

Her view folded inward.

Ideas about life from experience are no use in the unfolding of a potential, empty and light, though there’s still potential for phenomena to be experienced.

A moment of seeing can intervene like a suture between an image and its word.

An act is no longer structured by a real that’s not caught up in it.

Instead of denying material, I could symbolize it with this mucus and its trailings.

The moment the imaginary exists, it creates its own setting, but not the same way as form at the intuitive level of her mother’s comprehension.

In all comprehension, there’s an error, forgetting the creativity of material in its nas-cent form.

So, you see in her eyes her form of compassion for beings who perceive suffering as a real substrate.

6
Mother must have done something terrible, to be so bereaved.

Ambiguity of a form derives from its representing the girl, full of capability, satu-rated with love.

If the opposite of possible is real, she defines real as impossible, her real inability to repeat the child’s game, over and over.

Parallel woven lines of the blanket extend to water.

Just a hint of childish ferocity gives them weight.

At night, inspiration fell on her like rain, penetrating the subject at the germline, like a navel.

Joy at birth, a compaction of potential and no potential, is an abstraction that was fully realized.

Reducing a parent to the universality of signifier produces serene detachment in her, abstract as an electron micrograph of protein-deplete human metaphase DNA.

Its materiality is a teletransport of signified protoplasm across lineage or time, avid, muscular and compact, as if pervasive, attached to her, in a particular matriarchy of natural disaster, in which the luminosity of a fetal sonogram becomes clairvoyant.

The love has no quantity or value, but only lasts a length of time, different time, across which unfolds her singularity without compromising life as a whole.



Response:
“Feelings of helplessness drove me to fantastic and ridiculous extremes.”

A change spread in my own poetic thinking when I encountered this poem. At the time, my own work was fumbling with ways of writing and thinking about inheritance and illness, but was suffering from a bout of emotional sappiness. My first impression of Mei-Mei Berssenbrugge’s poetry was that in between statements of abstract and scientific language, shocking moments of tenderness pierced through the flat surface of the page. “Four Year Old Girl” is an attempt (a poem as an attempt) to understand and grapple with a very personal struggle with genetic disease, traced through mother-daughter relationships. In an interview with Zhou Xiaojing, Berssenbrugge states that the “principle of unity” in her poetry is the “emotional statement” (MELUS, 204). So how does she succeed (in my opinion) in expressing the emotional statement through “concretion of the informed substance of language” as she relies “less on metaphor, sound, or image” (AWP, 62)?

As the poem is quite long, and packed tightly into six parts, I’ll focus on Part 1. I have also integrated quotes from Berssenbrugge’s notes on the poem. The poem begins with two definitions explaining two genetic types: genotype and phenotype. One is a characteristic of the gene that creates what is seen, the other, a characteristic that makes what we cannot see, but what we inherently are. Genetic disease is defined objectively, as “extreme genetic change” (AWP, 53), removing the word ‘disease’ from its negative connotations, putting it into perspective as an extreme on the scale of variability as compared to “normal” genetic structuring. Medical jargon, without the emotional slant. Berssenbrugge then introduces the human subject, “[s]he believes she is herself, which isn’t complete madness, it’s belief,” (AWP, 53) hinting at the disjunction between two concepts of self: physiological or genetic vs. emotional or spiritual. Faced with this binary, the problem of representation in this poem “is not to turn the subject, the effect of the genes, into an entity” (AWP, 53). The speaker confronts the challenge of writing a subject (made up of genetic strands) that does not become representative of a whole—like a symbol representative of something larger (a metaphor) or like a strand of DNA itself, representative of the subject. Perhaps this reluctance to engage in traditional poetic devices like metaphor or the symbolic image is to instead find a way to express emotion in its purest, rawest form: free from the overused or romanticized symbols.

Yet without this “entity”, all that is left on the page is the subject and her genes. There is a space “between [the subject] and the displaced gene” (AWP, 53) that doesn’t become the effect of the genes, but the “effect of meaning” (AWP, 53). This meaning, as Berssenbrugge describes, is “contingent, [on] a surface of water in an uninhabited world” (AWP, 53). For the subject, meaning becomes a poetic image that is present in a world free of people to perceive it. Unlike a symbol or metaphor, this is a meaning that cannot be expressed, or perceived by us, but which only the subject is conscious of. Bringing us back to the concrete reality of the subject’s body, Berssenbrugge reminds us that we “wouldn’t think of her form by thinking about water” (AWP, 53). Representation becomes inaccurate. Further, by suggesting that “you can go in, if you don’t encounter anything” (AWP 54), Berssenbrugge creates a world free of representation: encountering the world would force us to describe it, represent it in words. And so it begins.

Berssenbrugge’s prose-like sentences act as ripples, or impressions on the page, each with its own force and momentum. Just as the effect of a displaced gene and the effect of meaning will be effecting/affecting a mother, a daughter, and a granddaughter. Inheritance is inescapable. And like Berssenbrugge’s lines, a constant reminder of what is at stake for one line of genetic beings. Lines like “A girl says sweetly, it’s time you begin to look after me, so I may seem lovable to myself” (AWP, 54) rings a strong note of emotional impact. Of course the speaker is “inspired to change the genotype, because the cell’s memory outlives the cell”. (AWP, 54). After the body is gone, or the mother has died, the pain and suffering of genetic disease still haunts the family through memory, cellular memory. This desire to change inheritance, “the emotion [of] the hopelessness and guilt of illness, of passing on illness and screaming” (AWP, 61) is acted upon through the poem. And finally, after an interrogation of intellectual and medical reasoning, the speaker rests on the idea that a poem, “like touch, one cell can initiate therapy”. (AWP, 56). A powerful negotiation, an emotional punch.

Master of this poetry, I am not. I still think that the poet says it best: “a ribbon of the heart untying”. (AWP, 61).


Works Cited:
Berssenbruge, Mei-mei and Zhou Xiaojing. “Blurring the Borders between Formal and
Social Aesthetics: An Interview with Mei-mei Berssenbrugge”. MELUS, Vol. 27,
Contested Boundaries (Spring, 2002), pp. 199-212. January 31, 2010. .

Rankine, Claudia and Juliana Spahr (eds). American Women Poets of the 21st Century: Where Lyric Meets Language. Middletown, Connecticut: Wesleyan University Press, 2002.

Berssenbrugge, Mei-Mei. I Love Artists: New and Selected Poems. Berkley, California:
University of California Press, 2006.

Bio:
Montreal native Celyn Harding-Jones' poetry and fiction have been published in Incongruous Quarterly, Headlight and Soliloquies and won an honourable mention for an essay in Arc. She’s a poetry editor for Headlight, and a freelance editor for Pearl Press (UK). Concordia University considers her a "Master" in English Literature and Creative Writing, but she's not sure one can master such things. She wants to thank you for reading.


About Me

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Montreal native Celyn Harding-Jones is, as always, in the process of completing and creating many things. Some of these things include a Master’s degree from Concordia, a novella, a collection of poetry and other oddities. Her poetry and fiction has been published in the likes of small magazines Incongruous Quarterly, Headlight and Soliloquies and won an honourable mention for an essay in Arc. She’s the poetry editor for Headlight, fiction & non-fiction editor at Pearl Press and has compiled a sizable archive of poetry readings made in the 60s and 70s in Montreal. Celyn has also worked and volunteered at Montreal's Summer Literary Seminars, Blue Metropolis and organized countless poetry readings. She wants to thank you for reading.