Saturday, February 21, 2009

Onion

I'm having trouble writing this paper (or these papers), flapping back and forth on things. Perhaps I'm trying to write this thing too linearly. I need to let it grow like an onion.

I'm not in a rush yet, so I have time to go layer by layer, around and around. "Ogres are like onions . . ."

Friday, February 20, 2009

Two Papers

I'm starting to think that the two papers I have here actually have less to do with each other than I originally thought. My initial plan was to make the conference paper a section of my thesis paper. I equated "Generative tension . . ." with "Mary Oliver and Christian Spirituality." And I imagined that the second of those would be a longer version of the first which would remain essentially intact as the core of the essay. But now I'm thinking that the two purposes/audiences I'm aiming for are different enough to warrant two more separate papers, dealing even with some different poems. There will be some overlap, I'm sure, but I don't see that one organization for the two papers will work. So here's how they might look different:

Generative Tension between “God” and “Earth” in Mary Oliver’s Thirst
  • Introduction--her recent book Thirst introduces into her poetry for the first time orthodox Christian themes which introduces also a generative spiritual tension . . .
  • Generative Tension--using temporary binaries?
  • Loving "Earth"--Nature, the body, neighbors | being gentle and joyous and kind | grieving
  • Loving "God"--kataphatic spiritual practices such as church and scripture and kindness | sense of gratitude and obedience | desire for the apophatic side of God
  • Sustaining Tension as a Spiritual Practice--she works up a tension through reflection and writing | she hopes that this will make her better
Mary Oliver and Christian Spirituality
  • Introduction--her recent book Thirst introduces into her poetry for the first time orthodox Christian themes
  • Earlier Poetry / Criticism to Date
  • The Christian Spirituality of the Desert Fathers and Mothers
  • Orthodox Spiritual Practices and Values
  • Jesus and the Apophatic God
I'd still probably argue that "Mary Oliver and Christian Spirituality" does in effect boil down to "Generative Tension between 'God' and 'Earth' in Mary Oliver’s Thirst," but for the sake of writing things out into essays, I think that two different pieces with two different angles might be the best way to go. The first of these two essays would be a specific exploration of a particular dynamic of the Christian spirituality in her work written for an audience with particular agreed on understandings of spirituality. That essay would have an important methodological emphasis. The second essay would be a broader essay about Christian spirituality in her work written for a broader audience with a less specific methdological focus. The first one would say "here is what she is doing"; and the second "here are some themes." Something like that.

Notes on Messenger

The opening poem of Thirst demonstrates strong continuities with Oliver's earlier work. The first line of "Messenger" reads: "My work is loving the world." Even in this line, though, she also introduces the religious themes of this book. In this line, it is her "work" to love the world. This is a good job in this poem (in later poems, it is much harder and sadder). But in noting that it is her "work" (and not something like her purpose in life or the completion of her being) she demonstrates the kind of open-handed engagement with that which is not ultimate characteristic of an orthodox contemplative Christian spirituality.

Oliver brings up a her imperfect condition (and I have to assume that some version of Oliver is the speaker in these poems) asking
Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young and still not half-perfect?
Putting her aging and imperfect self in parallel with her boots and a coat (an theme that is reinforced later in the same poem when she refers to "these body-clothes"), Oliver begins to delineate what belongs in the category of "earth." She goes on, letting go of questions about perfection, to say
. . . Let me keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work

which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all of the ingredients are here,
which is gratitude . . .
If this poem can represent Oliver's position relative to the earth, these are the things which mark this poem:
  1. An emphasis on awe of physical being (and implicitly awareness) accompanied by concrete images (in about 20 lines, she almost catalogs them: sunflowers, hummingbirds, quickening yeast, blue plums, the clam deep in the speckled sand, my boots, my coat, phoebe, delphinium, sheep in the pasture and the pasture, moth, wren, the sleepy dug-up clam)
  2. An awareness of her own earthly imperfection (bodily and moral)
  3. A sense that there is important important work to do, termed as "loving the world" and explained as appreciating and being aware of it. It is not just important that "we all live forever" or that nature is beautiful, but it is also important to take note of these things, to talk about these things (which, stepping back, is what the poem itself is doing.
  4. An awareness of "work" as non-ultimate and of guilt (or pride, egocentrism seems to be the point) as even less important than the work
  5. Interconnectedness with earth ("telling them all, over and over, how it is / that we live forever")
  6. A spiritual something underpinning both the sense of wonder and the task at hand, this spiritual something taking precedence over other things. The most important thing now is to be aware and awed and to keep in mind that the most important thing (now or later) is that we "live forever."
What "live forever" means needs some discussion since certainly flowers do not live forever. From another poem when Oliver suggests that "heaven" is not her goal, we can take a hint that she might mean something about "eternal life" being eternally present. Certainly she doesn't mean anything that systematic, I think, or directly paraphrase-able. She means something about the spirit, though.

I'm having some trouble identifying exactly what the main things here are than need to be pointed out. In this poem, there are hardly any visible tensions. There is the tension inherent in having an worn body. And there is a tension in calling "loving the world" work. One of the things that makes this poem powerful is the fact that the speaker is certainly not naive to what she is saying.

She gives a bit of attention here to her own body, more than she usually does in a poem, mentioning her self as "no longer young" (age is quickly associated with the physical affects of aging), and she mentions her heart, mind, these body-clothes, and her mouth.

Love, astonishment, joy, rejoicing, gratitude.

I'm not sure what it is that I want to say about this poem. And I'm not sure what this poem says about the rest of the book. Certainly that it introduces important themes that can be best understood within the religious context in which Oliver situates herself.

What are all of the ingredients for love? since she mentions that they are all there. There are the mind, heart, body-clothes, mouth and, presumably, all the things to be astonished at, as well, perhaps, as the spiritual context in which love is possible.

It is probably not best to read this poem in isolation from the other poems in the book, including or especially the sadder ones. Still, it seems that this joyful poem, embracing earth in loving work, is good poem to read as representative of one of the poles of the themes in the book.

How am I to read this book? Do I read the poems as simultaneous statements. Certainly not. I also can't read them as disconnected. And it doesn't seem well advised to read the book from fron to back as the log of some sort of spiritual journey or progression. There certainly does seem to be some progression. But I don't know from what to what. This poem in particular takes one tone when read first and another when read again after the darker poems.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Poem Lists

I set out to write a list in this entry of six poems or so from Thirst to write about closely in my essay but I nearly ended up simply copying out the table of contents. It would be simpler to list the ones that are that interesting to me or relevant to my topic--probably just the poem, "The Poet Thinks about the Donkey."

I can't write about it all, though. As Ruth Salvaggio told me, "Everything is partial." Here is a list, then, of a little more than a dozen poems that I feel I want to include:
Messenger
When I Am Among the Trees
Musical Notation: 1
After Her Death
Cormorants
What I Said at Her Service
Coming to God: First Days
The Vast Ocean Begins Just Outside Our Church: The Eucharist
More Beautiful Than the Honey Locust Tree Are the Words of the Lord
Praying
Six Recognitions of the Lord
The First
The Uses of Sorrow
On Thy Wondrous Works I Will Meditate (Psalm 145)
Thirst
Since I have two projects I'm working on here, a conference paper and a longer thesis essay, I'll be able to build a shorter and longer list. If, allowing for references to other poems, I had to limit my discussion to three close readings (which I may have to do for my conference paper), I would have to write about these ones:
Messenger
After Her Death
Thirst