Addendum to my rant re: the role of intelligence etc.

citycabn (citycabn@gateway.net)
Tue, 12 Jan 1999 12:48:22 -0800 

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Scottie, et alia:

I just reread said rant and think I spent too much time talking about =
the apprentice work, and not the later, *real* work.  I am not saying I =
think either one can take place without  intelligence, persistence and =
deliberation in attendance.  Even a writer, such as Rilke, who relied  =
on that old tired word "inspiration" was yet an example of your three =
virtues.  Do you know that Paul Valery was RMR's one true late love as a =
reader?  You can't get a more different kind of poet from Rilke than =
Valery.  Rilke writes in a letter--oh, to have been a recipient of one =
of those light blue envelopes!--that he, R., and R.'s work had been =
waiting all these years for what:  to encounter Valery's work (and this =
letter is NOT addressed to V.)  R. credits V. for assisting him (R.) in =
bringing the Elegies to completion.  In my book, to use my by-now tired =
comparison, V. was in the delivery room (which was Muzot) when R. =
knocked off the Elegies and Sonnets in that glorious month of--it needs =
spelling it all out--February of 1922, A.D.  If one is a would be poet, =
and one has not had instant success in completing one's work, then take =
heart from that, yes, I will say it, miracle.  The miracle wasn't from =
the Angel or R's daemon, it was granted to him BECAUSE he, R., never =
sold out, persisted,  used his writer's and reader's intelligence and =
wouldnt accept the 3rd or even the 2nd rate as the first;  would NOT =
fool HIMSELF, that, oh, yea, this page tonight, as good as it felt, =
better than the best orgasm those poor little sex organs of ours =
provide, oh yea, got a good page or two tonight, but does it warrant a =
place next to Elegy 1 and 2.   The first two elegies were gifts from =
fill-in-the-blank; but there were still 8 to go.  Its late Janury 1912, =
youve got 2 whole elegies, and some fragments.  Now what?  A good start; =
 but is it something I can polish off over some  weekend at the cafe =
with some high grade espresso .  I think not, and evidently, from my =
study of RMR, he didn't think so either.  AND AFTER the storm of =
February 1922, he didn't call up his publisher and say, hey, got the =
Elegies done after trying for ten, I repeat, ten years.  Start the =
presses.  No, I imagine him pouring over them, every word, every pause =
between every word, testing the last echo of the echo as he  spoke the =
poems  for the first time into the deafening silence of the  3rd planet =
from the sun, into the night in the Rhone Vally of Switzerland, every =
fiber of his writer's/critic's/reader's sensibility deliberating each =
nuance of each line. (He didn't publish both books until 1923.) =20

Yes, I am not saying in my statement "as astonished/puzzled/moved to =
tears/bewildered by things in his own work as we the readers of it are" =
that it's ALL new to the writer--I wrote "by things", probably should =
have said, "some things"-- all independent of the writer--that one  can =
say om and Elegies and Sonnets appear because you want them to, that =
one's ego wants them to.  There is a wonderful photo of Valery and Rilke =
meeting, late in R.'s life, when R. is in the last stages of his =
illness.  I think it is the only photograph I know of  of this lonely =
man, so misunderstood by so many critics -- just a touch of jealousy , =
perhaps ?--of this great strange presence who,  basically, from  1902 =
thru 1926,  crossed all of Europe chasing an echo in his own heart, and =
who has GIVEN--by god, it is a gift; it's not a way to make a =
living--the fruits of his intelligence, persistence, and  deliberation =
ADDED to that  unnamble, unknowable breath that whirls  the  dust =
throughout  this solar system,  TO OTHERS BY PUBLISHING IT--are you =
listening, JDS?--the only photograph *I* know of in which a smile plays =
across his lips.  A smile,yes of gratitude, that, knowing  while =
something was terribly wrong with his body, and  perhaps, at some =
deepest level,  sensing he had only months left in which to live (there =
were three), gratitude that  he had endured and accomplished his work, =
the work begun decades earlier, when as a boy,  he heard the first word =
blossoming out of the silence  that still exists behind the nightmare of =
noise surrounding us.  Rest in peace, dearest RMR.

--Bruce

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Scottie, et alia:
 
I just reread said rant and think I = spent too=20 much time talking about the apprentice work, and not the later, *real*=20 work.  I am not saying I think either one can take place = without =20 intelligence, persistence and deliberation in attendance.  Even a = writer,=20 such as Rilke, who relied  on that old tired word = "inspiration"=20 was yet an example of your three virtues.  Do you know that Paul = Valery was=20 RMR's one true late love as a reader?  You can't get a more = different kind=20 of poet from Rilke than Valery.  Rilke writes in a letter--oh, to = have been=20 a recipient of one of those light blue envelopes!--that he, R., and R.'s = work=20 had been waiting all these years for what:  to encounter Valery's = work (and=20 this letter is NOT addressed to V.)  R. credits V. for assisting = him (R.)=20 in bringing the Elegies to completion.  In my book, to use my = by-now tired=20 comparison, V. was in the delivery room (which was Muzot) when R. = knocked off=20 the Elegies and Sonnets in that glorious month of--it needs spelling it = all=20 out--February of 1922, A.D.  If one is a would be poet, and one has = not had=20 instant success in completing one's work, then take heart from that, = yes, I will=20 say it, miracle.  The miracle wasn't from the Angel or R's daemon, = it was=20 granted to him BECAUSE he, R., never sold out, persisted,  used his = writer's and reader's intelligence and wouldnt accept the 3rd or even = the 2nd=20 rate as the first;  would NOT fool HIMSELF, that, oh, yea, this = page=20 tonight, as good as it felt, better than the best orgasm those poor = little sex=20 organs of ours provide, oh yea, got a good page or two tonight, but does = it=20 warrant a place next to Elegy 1 and 2.   The first two elegies = were=20 gifts from fill-in-the-blank; but there were still 8 to go.  Its = late=20 Janury 1912, youve got 2 whole elegies, and some fragments.  Now=20 what?  A good start;  but is it something I can polish off = over=20 some  weekend at the cafe with some high grade espresso .  I = think=20 not, and evidently, from my study of RMR, he didn't think so = either.  AND=20 AFTER the storm of February 1922, he didn't call up his publisher and = say, hey,=20 got the Elegies done after trying for ten, I repeat, ten years.  = Start the=20 presses.  No, I imagine him pouring over them, every word, every = pause=20 between every word, testing the last echo of the echo as he  spoke = the=20 poems  for the first time into the deafening silence of the  = 3rd=20 planet from the sun, into the night in the Rhone Vally of Switzerland, = every=20 fiber of his writer's/critic's/reader's sensibility deliberating each = nuance of=20 each line. (He didn't publish both books until = 1923.)  
 
Yes, I am not saying in my statement = "as=20 astonished/puzzled/moved to tears/bewildered by things in his own work = as we the=20 readers of it are" that it's ALL new to the writer--I wrote = "by=20 things", probably should have said, "some things"-- all=20 independent of the writer--that one  can say om and Elegies and = Sonnets=20 appear because you want them to, that one's ego wants them to.  = There is a=20 wonderful photo of Valery and Rilke meeting, late in R.'s life, when R. = is in=20 the last stages of his illness.  I think it is the only photograph = I know=20 of  of this lonely man, so misunderstood by so many critics -- just = a touch=20 of jealousy , perhaps ?--of this great strange presence who,  = basically,=20 from  1902 thru 1926,  crossed all of Europe chasing an echo = in his=20 own heart, and who has GIVEN--by god, it is a gift; it's not a way to = make a=20 living--the fruits of his intelligence, persistence, and  = deliberation=20 ADDED to that  unnamble, unknowable breath that whirls  = the  dust=20 throughout  this solar system,  TO OTHERS BY PUBLISHING = IT--are you=20 listening, JDS?--the only photograph *I* know of in which a smile plays = across=20 his lips.  A smile,yes of gratitude, that, knowing  while = something=20 was terribly wrong with his body, and  perhaps, at some deepest=20 level,  sensing he had only months left in which to live (there = were=20 three), gratitude that  he had endured and accomplished his work, = the work=20 begun decades earlier, when as a boy,  he heard the first word = blossoming=20 out of the silence  that still exists behind the nightmare of noise = surrounding us.  Rest in peace, dearest RMR.
 
--Bruce
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