Richard Owens: Embankments -- poems
Seventy-five books (twenty-six of which are lettered A through Z) were designed, printed, assembled, and hand bound 100% in-house by Micah Robbins and Clifton Riley at Interbirth Books. The stitch is a buttonhole. The cover is an original screen / litho print.
43 pages -- 5 1/16 in x 7 3/8 in. -- $15 (free shipping in the US)
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Francis Raven's Provisions -- poems & prose.
Fifty books were printed, assembled, and hand bound in-house at Interbirth Books using a combination long / kettle stitch. Twenty-six books are lettered A through Z and signed by the author. This edition includes cover art by Francis Raven.
84 pages -- 5 1/4 in x 7 1/4 in. -- $22 (free shipping in the US)
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Edited by David Hadbawnik of Habenicht Press, Kadar Koli is one of my favorite poetry magazines. It's consistently cheap, unpretentious, and full of solid writing, and I've yet to be disappointed with one of its issues. Unfortunately, I've been busy with life this summer, and I'm embarrassed to say that I haven't gotten around to reading the current issue (Kadar Koli 3) until this week. But I'm glad I waited for the open time to spend with this collection; Hadbawnik has put together a gem that's worth making room for.
The stitch (long stitch over ribbon; kettle stitch; improvised, decorative cover stitch):
Poetry, in a general sense, may be defined to be "the expression of the imagination": and poetry is connate with the origin of man. Man is an instrument over which a series of external and internal impressions are driven, like the alternations of an ever-changing wind over an Aeolian lyre, which move it by their motion to ever changing melody. But there is a principle within the human being, and perhaps within all sentient beings, which acts otherwise than in the lyre, and produces not melody alone, but harmony, by an internal adjustment of the sounds or motions thus excited to the impressions which excite them. (511)According to this explanation, the poet does not create a wholly distinct imaginative reality, but rather interprets into poetic language—through the "harmony" producing imagination—what is perceived in the material universe. As John Ross Baker notes in his "Poetry and Language in Shelley's 'Defense of Poetry,'" reality is not "merely alien and external, nor merely projected. It is neither the 'melody' of what impinges on us nor the 'melody' we project in response, but a 'harmony' of both 'melodies'" (444). So, while there seems to be a certain degree of "creation" at work in poetry, poets are essentially inventive interpreters of their unique interactions—both internal and external—with a preexisting reality.
The everlasting universe of thingsJust as in Shelley's earlier reference to Dante ("The mind is its own place, and of itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven"), the reality of the universe is the way that it is perceived by the poet. So, depending on the poet's perceptive mood, the universe may be "dark," "glittering," "reflecting gloom," or "lending splendor." This is an example of primary and secondary states of existence: the primary state being the physical universe as it "exists" beyond perception, and the secondary state being the "dark," "glittering" universe as it is perceived by the mind (Kapstein 1047-48). The mind alone cannot create gloom or splendor, but it can imagine the universe as "reflecting gloom" and "lending splendor" depending on its particular perception of a given sensation. Later in "Mont Blanc," Shelley relates this concept directly to creative inspiration:
Flows through the mind, and rolls its rapid waves,
Now dark—now glittering—now reflecting gloom—
Now lending splendor, where from secret springs
The source of human thought its tribute brings. (1.1-6)
Dizzy Ravine! And when I gaze on theeThis is another example of Shelley demonstrating that poetry requires an "interchange" between the material universe and an intelligent mind. Without this "interchange," the creation of poetry could not take place. It is only when sensations settle into the conscience mind ("the still cave of the witch Poesy") that man's interpretive imagination can be exercised.
I seem as in a trance sublime and strange
To muse on my own separate phantasy,
My own, my human mind, which passively
Now renders and receives fast influencings,
Holding an unremitting interchange
With the clear universe of things around;
One legion of wild thoughts, whose wandering wings
Now float above thy darkness, and now rest
Where that or thou art no unbidden guest,
In the still cave of the witch Poesy. (2.34-44)
Nothing is more characteristic of Shelley's vision of life than the ceaseless war of opposites: the One and the Many, the eternal and the temporal, the substantial and the illusory, Platonism and skepticism, good and evil, love and hate, liberty and bigotry, rapture and despair. His poetry constantly illustrates the Aequilibrium of opposing impulses.@ (9)It is to this paradoxical mutability that Shelley attributes the emergence of humanity's belief in God and the subsequent formation of religion. In "Hymn to Intellectual Beauty," Shelley writes,
Ask why the sunlight not foreverNot only does Shelley deny that the universe was created by "God," but he believes that the creation of "God" and "Heaven" came as the result of humanity's perception of the very universe that "God" is supposed to have created. Although Shelley abandons religion as an adequate explanation of reality's paradoxical mutability, he does not abandon the question altogether. His persistent struggle to understand and embody this aspect of existence is what gives rise to his frequent allusions to mutability and ultimately—despite his atheism—renders him a quasi-religious poet.
Weaves rainbows o'er yon mountain river,
Why aught should fail and fade that once is shewn,
Why fear and dream and death and birth
Cast on the daylight of this earth
Such gloom,—why man has such a scope
For love and hate, despondency and hope?
No voice from some sublimer world hath ever
To sage or poet these responses given—
Therefore the name of God and ghosts and Heaven,
Remain the records of their vain endeavour,
Frail spells—whose uttered charm might not avail to sever,
From all we hear and all we see,
Doubt, chance, and mutability. (2.18-24, 3.25-31)
O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being,
Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,
Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,
Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O Thou,
Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed
The winged seeds, where they lie cold and low,
Each like a corpse within its grave, until
Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow
Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill
(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)
With living hues and odours plain and hill. (1-12)
In this passage, Shelley makes his faith in cause and effect abundantly clear. The poem's first cause is the autumnal wind blowing; the effect of this cause is the scattering of seed-bearing leaves. The poem's second cause is the breath of a warm spring wind; the effect of this cause is the emergence of new life from the scattered seeds. So, it is only through the death of Autumn and Winter that the earth may experience the renewing forces of Spring and Summer. This law of necessity, this "wild spirit, which art moving everywhere" (13), functions as both "Destroyer and Preserver" (14).
Although the first section of "Ode to the West Wind" speaks directly to the mutable nature of the material universe, Shelley does not limit mutability to nature alone, but explore the number of ways that mutability effects humanity. For instance, in "Mont Blanc," Shelley does not only focus upon the changing landscape, but speaks directly to the mutability of the mind's perception of this landscape. When describing the slow change of an iceberg as it drifts toward the sea, he writes,
The glaciers creep
Like snakes that watch their prey, from their far mountains,
Slow rolling on; there, many a precipice,
Frost and the sun in scorn of mortal power
Have piled: dome, pyramid, and pinnacle,
A city of death, distinct with many a tower
And wall impregnable of beaming ice.
Yet not a city, but a flood of ruin
Is there, that from the boundaries of the sky
Rolls its perpetual stream; vast pines are strewing
Its destined path, or in the mangled soil
Branchless and shattered stand: the rocks, drawn
downFrom yon remotest waste, have overthrown
The limits of the dead and living world,
Never to be reclaimed. The dwelling-place
Of insects, beasts, and birds, becomes its spoil;
Their food and their retreat forever gone,
So much of life and joy is lost. The race
Of man, flies far in dread; his work and dwelling
Vanish, like smoke before the tempest's stream,
And their place is not known. Below, vast caves
Shine in the rushing torrents' restless gleam,
Which from those secret chasms in tumult
wellingMeet in the vale, and one majestic River,
The breath and blood of distant lands, for ever
Rolls its loud waters to the ocean waves,
Breathes its swift vapors to the circling air. (4.100-126)
Here, Shelley not only demonstrates that the material universe has changed from an iceberg to a river to a cloud, but that man's perception of this changing element is mutable as well. Though he begins by describing the horror of the iceberg's destruction, Shelly transitions to a description focused on this natural phenomenon’s life-sustaining necessity. Whether the iceberg is a destroyer, a preserver, or both depends on the way that its effects are perceived, and one's perception is, in turn, dictated by the way that the material universe impacts the senses. So, the human mind begins as a "passive receptacle for the flow of things," rises to an active state when impacted by some sensation, and produces a mutable perception that depends on the changing nature of "the flow of things" (Rieder 791).
It is not only one's perception that is mutable, however, but one's personal nature as well. In fact, when Shelley directly addresses mutability as a phenomena in his poem "Mutability," he describes it by addressing humanity’s mutable nature:
We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restless they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly!—yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost forever:
Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast,
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last.
(1-8)
Although Shelley spends some time characterizing the mutable nature of clouds and the sounds of Aeolian harps, he is only describing them in order to comment upon humanity’s mutable nature. Shelley is quite aware that one's perception of reality is not limited to one's natural surroundings, but that one's perception of reality has a profound impact on one's emotions, ideas, actions, and beliefs. Therefore, if perception is prone to mutability, it follows that emotions, ideas, actions, and beliefs are mutable as well. Shelley demonstrates his belief in such mutability in "Ode to the West Wind":
Drive my dead thoughts over the universe
Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth!
And, by the incantation of this verse,Scatter, as from an unextinguished hearth
Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!
Be through my lips to unawakened Earth
The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,
If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind? (5.63-70)
Here, the same law of necessity that causes the autumnal wind to spread seeds across the land is causing Shelley's poetry to be spread through the minds of his readers. This parallel not only illustrates Shelley's "deep empathy with nature," but also demonstrates that intangible thoughts have the same regenerative qualities as the leaves and seeds in the poem's first section (King-Hele 260). He again draws a parallel between the wind and the law of Necessity's effect on emotions, ideas, actions, and beliefs in "Hymn to Intellectual Beauty." He writes, "Love, Hope, and Self-esteem, like clouds depart / And come" (4.37-38), and then,
Thou messenger of sympathies,
That wax and wane in lovers' eyes—
Thou—that to human thought art nourishment,
Like darkness to a dying flame!
Depart not as thy shadow came,
Depart not—. (4.42-47)
Here, the mutable elements are intangible aspects of the mind. Despite the fact that they do not exist as part of the material universe, they do exist as part of reality because they are a product of humanity's perception of the sensation-producing material universe. Because these intangible elements exist, they are just as susceptible to mutability as those elements belonging to the material universe. Therefore, like leaves blowing in the wind, or an iceberg creeping down a mountainside, one's intangible nature (emotions, ideas, actions, and beliefs) is dictated by the same law of Necessity that tangible nature obeys.
Finally, Shelley demonstrates that the law of Necessity acts not only on the material universe; humanity's perception of the material universe; and one's emotions, ideas, actions, and beliefs; but also on the very nature of life and death itself. In "Adonais," Shelley writes,
Peace, peace! He is not dead, he doth not sleep—
He hath awakened from the dream of life— . . . (39.343-344)He lives, he wakes—'tis Death is dead, not he;
Mourn not for Adonais.—Thou young Dawn
Turn all thy dew to splendour, for from thee
The spirit thou lamentest is not gone; . . . (41.361-364)
He is made one with Nature: there is heard
His voice in all her music, from the moan
Of thunder, to the song of night's sweet bird;
He is a presence to be felt and known
In darkness and in light, from herb and stone,
Spreading itself where'er that Power may move
Which has withdrawn his being to its own;
Which wields the world with never wearied love,
Sustains it from beneath, and kindles it above.
(42.370-378)
Even the reality of human life and death is not concrete, but plastic beneath the influence of mutability's "Power." Shelly recognizes that death may conquer the "frailty of the body to which the spirit is bound," but he is also aware of the fact that death releases the "limitless aspiration of the spirit" (Chernaik 589-590). This concept echoes Shelley's study of humanity's intellectual mutability in "Ode to the West Wind": just as the poet's thoughts and words may find new life in the minds of others, so the deceased's spirit (the emotions, ideas, actions, beliefs, and even the very act of dying) may find new life in the way that it changes one's perception of reality. The product of one's intellectual faculties cannot exist without the intellectual faculties of others; like the effects of nature, the product of one's life does not exist without an intelligent mind to perceive the sensations that one's product creates (Rieder 280). The product of an intelligent mind only exists because there are other intelligent minds to perceive that product, and as long as there is a perceiver, the product of one's life will continue within perceived reality. Therefore, as long as there is some receptive intelligence, the death of an individual simply constitutes a change in the state of one's reality.
Shelley's dedication to exploring reality's mutable nature parallels the efforts of other "sages" and "poets" who have embarked on similar quests. Although Shelley does not reach the same conclusions as these other thinkers (that God is the cause of reality), he does establish a belief in the cause and effect of the element in question. Despite their differing conclusions, Shelley's studies and beliefs mirror the other thinkers' developments of religions as answers to the questions inherent in the mutable universe. So, rather than believing in the reality of God and his creation, Shelley concludes that the only reality is "the mind's conception of the sensory world," and that "the sensory world is a fiction that 'Mutability' shapes out of these concepts" (Wasserman 563). This mutable reality has power over the material universe, humanity's perception of the material universe, one's intellectual creations and perceptions, and life and death. It is to this mutability that Shelley prays in "Hymn to Intellectual Beauty":
Thus let thy power, which like the truth
Of nature on my passing youth
Descended, to my onward life supply
Its calm—to one who worships thee,
And every form containing thee,
Whom, Spirit fair, thy spells did bind
To fear himself, and love all human kind. (7.78-85)
So, despite his atheism, his political activism, his unorthodox lifestyle, and his disdain for the religion of his day, Shelley does not write outside the bounds of religion and morality. He is, in fact, quite a religious and moral writer, but his religion and morals are founded upon a far different set of ideals and beliefs than those of his Christian reviewers. His religion is founded upon the concept that "Naught may endure but Mutability" (“Mutability” 16), and it is his strong belief in the power of this apocalyptic regeneration that has alienated his philosophy from the popular moral beliefs of so many of his reviewers, both past and present.
Works Cited
Baker, John Ross. "Poetry and Language in Shelly's 'Defense of Poetry.'" The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism 39 (1981): 437-449.
Cameron, Kenneth Neill. "Philosophy, Religion, and Ethics." Shelley's Poetry and Prose. Ed. Donald H. Reiman and Neil Fraistat. New York: Norton, 2002. 580-589.
Chernaik, Judith S. "The Figure of the Poet in Shelly." ELH 35 (1968): 566-590.
Ford, Newell F. "The Wit in Shelly's Poetry." Studies in English Literature, 1500-1900 1 (1961): 1-22.
Jones, Frederick L. "Hogg and The Necessity of Atheism." PMLA 52 (1937): 423-426.
Kapstein, I. J. "The Meaning of Shelly's 'Mont Blanc.'" PMLA 62 (1947): 1046-1060.
______. "The Symbolism of the Wind and the Leaves in Shelly's 'Ode to the West Wind.'" PMLA 51 (1936): 1069-1079.
King-Hele, D. G. "Shelly and Science." Notes and Records of the Royal Society of London 46 (1992): 253-265.
Kipperman, Mark. "Absorbing a Revolution: Shelley Becomes a Romantic, 1889-1903." Nineteenth-Century Literature 47 (1992): 187-211.
Pottle, Frederick A. "The Case of Shelley." PMLA 5 (1952): 589-608.
Rieder, John. "Descriptions of a Struggle: Shelley's Radicalism on Wordsworth's Terrain." Boundary 2 13 (1985): 267-287.
______. "Shelley's 'Mont Blanc': Landscape and Ideology of the Sacred Text." ELH 48 (1981): 778-798.
Shelley, Percy Bysshe. Shelley's Poetry and Prose. Ed. Donald H. Reiman and Neil Fraistat. New York: Norton, 2002.Wasserman, Earl R. "Shelley's 'Adonais', 177-179." Modern Language Notes 69 (1954): 563.
