We know now that a text is not a line of words releasing a single ‘theological’ meaning (the ‘message’ of the Author/God) but a multidimensional space in which a variety of writings, none of them original, blend and clash. The text is a tissue of quotations drawn from the innumerable centers of culture.
—Roland Barthes, “The Death of the Author” (1968), Image-Music-Text (London: Fontana Press, 1977), trans. S. Heath.
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
tissue of quotations
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author,
blend,
clash,
culture,
God,
multidimensional,
quotation,
Roland Barthes,
tissue
ideal reader
‘To serve the people,’
one must write for the ideal reader. Only for the ideal reader.
And who or what is that ideal reader? God. One must imagine,
one must deeply imagine
that great Attention.
—Denise Levertov, “Conversation in Moscow,” The Freeing of the Dust (New Directions, 1975)
[The poem is referencing the words of Pasternak.]
one must write for the ideal reader. Only for the ideal reader.
And who or what is that ideal reader? God. One must imagine,
one must deeply imagine
that great Attention.
—Denise Levertov, “Conversation in Moscow,” The Freeing of the Dust (New Directions, 1975)
[The poem is referencing the words of Pasternak.]
Labels:
attention,
audience,
Boris Pasternak,
Denise Levertov,
God,
ideal reader
only two creators
Non merita nome di creatore, se non Iddio ed il Poeta.
[Only God and the Poet deserve the name Creator.]
—Torquato Tasso
[Only God and the Poet deserve the name Creator.]
—Torquato Tasso
Labels:
creator,
God,
name,
Torquato Tasso
poet's charge
This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and the crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body....
—Walt Whitman, from the preface to the 1855 edition of Leaves of Grass
—Walt Whitman, from the preface to the 1855 edition of Leaves of Grass
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