Anindita Sengupta

Postmodernism is dead says Prospect Magazine:

For a while, as communism began to collapse, the supremacy of western capitalism seemed best challenged by deploying the ironic tactics of postmodernism. Over time, though, a new difficulty was created: because postmodernism attacks everything, a mood of confusion and uncertainty began to grow and flourish until, in recent years, it became ubiquitous. A lack of confidence in the tenets, skills and aesthetics of literature permeated the culture and few felt secure or able or skilled enough or politically permitted to distinguish or recognise the schlock from the not. And so, sure enough, in the absence of any aesthetic criteria, it became more and more useful to assess the value of works according to the profits they yielded. Capital, as has been said many times before, accommodates all needs. So, paradoxically, we arrive at a moment where literature itself has become threatened, first by the artistic credo of postmodernism the death of the author and second by the unintended result of that credo, the hegemony of the marketplace. What then becomes sought and desired are fictions that resonate with the widest possible public: that is, with as many discourses as possible. This public can then give or withhold approval measured in sales.

He goes on to be more hopeful about the future. The age of authenticism, though…really?

Image from Treehugger.com

So I’m guessing you’ve seen  The Poetry Foundation’s new look?  Please go see if you haven’t. PF is a great place to read poems and I’ve always liked that I can browse by poet and period, and also by occasion, holiday and subject. Their new content management system is on steroids and now you can also browse by sub-subject. Eg: if you look at love, you get another menu which has: Desire, Heartache & Loss, Realistic & Complicated, Romantic Love, Classic Love, Infatuation & Crushes, Unrequited Love, Break-ups & Vexed Love, and First Love. (Look and learn, Facebook. Look and learn. I mean, that’s a thorough categorisation for relationship status though, of course, it’s minus the friends-with-benefits type options which are also absolutely essential.)

Only: slight voice is nagging that we’re talking about poems. You know, nuance and feeling and all things totally frightening? Should they really be boxed up this neatly? But yeah, content management systems and databases and other gooey things — they’re double edged.

I’m looking at Madhu Menon’s Food Photography. This guy makes me feel interested in food in a deep sort of way and I’m not really a foodie. I mean I like different sorts of food but I can rarely eat a lot and this apparently disqualifies me. (I’m told this by good friends who are disappointed at my inability to do justice to vast spreads.) Anyway, I like reading about food and I love food-related imagery in poetry as do many people I suppose. One of my favourites is ‘A Display of Mackerel’ by Mark Doty.

They lie in parallel rows,
on ice, head to tail,
each a foot of luminosity
barred with black bands,
which divide the scales’
radiant sections

like seams of lead
in a Tiffany window.

Read the rest here.

My own attitude toward cooking is as erratic as everything else in my life. I hate it, I love it, I don’t know what I want to do with it. I’m probably the equivalent of people who love poetry and badly want to be a poet but don’t really have the discipline for it. I’m impatient with measurements for one, which is really a no-deal thing if you want to be a cook of any seriousness. And I can’t poach an egg. I tried really hard some time back and ended up with a lot of makeshift egg drop soup. Well, it probably wasn’t really. But that’s what I’m calling it. I like chicken though. I can do nice things with chicken.

More food poetry — Persimmons by Li-Young Lee,  Yam by Bruce Guernsey, and of course this famous poem about plums by William Carlos Williams.

James Franco Talks Poetry at the Poetry Foundation and looks stunning as Hart Crane. I confess I already liked him but this takes it to a whole other level.

And here’s an early picture of Hart Crane:

Image from Lit Kicks.

Hart Crane’s life–and death by suicide at age 32–certainly makes for a dramatic movie. From Lit Kicks again:

The facts are that over 70 years ago, the poet was on the SS Orizaba, a ship traveling 275 miles north east of Havana from Mexico to New York. It was there he drank copious amounts of alcohol, and after several violent outbursts, had to be locked in his cabin. It is said he was in such a fierce state that the door had to be nailed shut. Somehow, against all odds Crane managed to escape and was seen heading for the sailor’s quarters in search of “the secret oar and petals of love” which translates from Crane-speak as a hefty bout of buggering. He was found later that night beaten up and relieved of his valuables.

The next morning, he visited his companion and sometime lover Peggy Cowley, who at the time was trying to “rescue” him from the terrible affliction that he happened to be attracted to people of the same sex. His last words to her were “I’m not going to make it dear, I’m utterly disgraced.” With this he left, and was seen at the boat’s stern where he approached the railing in an overcoat under the midday sun. He removed this and, in his pajamas, leapt over the side and was last seen swimming strongly towards the horizon. Lifeboats were sent out to search for him but returned empty-handed. His body was never found. The ship’s captain, a man called Blackadder (clearly not skilled in the art of bereavement diplomacy), said, “If the propellers didn’t grind him to mincemeat then the sharks would have got him immediately.”

Toto Funds the Arts and British Council are holding a poetry workshop by Sampurna Chattarji.  Details here.

Date: 26-27 March, 10.00 a.m. – 5.30 p.m.

Venue:British Library, Prestige Takt, 23 Kasturba Road Cross (Opp: Visvesvaraiah Industrial & Technological Museum), Bengaluru

Registration Guidelines: Catering to the age group of 18 – 35 yrs, this workshop will host a maximum 12 participants. We will necessarily screen applicants. So please email ONE ‘finished’ poem to tfaindia84@gmail.com by March 10, 2011 to help Sampurna choose the participants. Once you are selected, you can send in your cheque for Rs 1800 made out to Toto Funds the Arts, at H-301, Adarsh Gardens, 47th Cross, 8th Block, Jayanagar, Bengaluru, 560082. Those selected must bring with them, to the workshop, ONE ‘finished’ poem (either the one they had sent earlier or a new one) and ONE poem in progress.