Crumui skrev:
För mig har det alltid varit självklart att man med poesins hjälp kan uttrycka känslor, tankar...
Det kan man också. Men det ska inte vara syftet med att skriva en dikt. Om allt man vill är att uttrycka känslor och åsikter så finns det bra mycket enklare och smidigare sätt att göra det på.
Crumui skrev:
Hur är esteters syn på saken?
Här följer en text om Poes syn på poesi. Poe var den förste riktige esteten. Hans främsta bidrag till poesin var hans befrämjande av poesi för poesins egen skull.:
Poe's views of poetry remained remarkably consistent throughout his lifetime. As he suggested in the preface to
The Raven and Other Poems, poetry springs from passion, not the passion of physical love but of spiritual longing.
"O! nothing earthly save the ray
(thrown back from flowers) of Beauty's eye,"
he intoned at the beginning of
Al Aaraaf, an early poem in which he imagined an immaterial world of ideal beauty. Lecturing on
The Poetic Principle in 1848 Poe defined poetry as "The Rhytmical Creation of Beauty", which evokes a pleasure "at once the most pure, the most elevating, and the most intense......the pleasurable elevation, or excitement, of the soul." This beauty may be reflected in nature, but it is not attained there. Poetry, Poe insisted, "is no mere appreciation of the Beauty before us - but a wild effort to reach the Beauty above." It should have nothing to do with mundane experience, with passions of the heart or perceptions of the intellect, or with moral suasion, which in poetry he condemned as "the heresy of the Didactic". Thus Poe departed from the Romanticism of Wordsworth and Emerson, who believed that spiritual Beauty and moral truths were revealed by poetry to be present in nature. Ideally, Poe argued, a poem is written "simply for the poem's sake", for purely aesthetic experience of unearthly beauty. As a consequence, he favoured "indefiniteness" in poetry, associating it with music and dreamlike states of consciousness. Poe's poetic vision is clearly illustrated in
To Helen, one of his best known poems. Although it may be adressed to a real woman, her beauty, collated in the poet's imagination with that of Helen of Troy, Penelope and Psyche, promts an epic, spiritual journey. She brings the "way-worn wanderer", Odysseus-like poet, "home to his native shore", which is at once a realm of aesthetic rapture,
"the glory that was Greece,
And the grandeur that was Rome"
and spiritual fulfilment,
"Ah, Psyche, from the regions which
Are Holy-Land!"
Readers will notice, however, that visions of transcendence are rare in Poe's poetry. More common are melancholy or macabre treatments of Beauty lost or unobtainable. Poe was forced to acknowledge that, despite the visionary pursuit of supernal Beauty, the poet reamined earthbound, inevitably saddened by his inability to "grasp now wholly here on Earth.....those divine and raputurous joys, of which through poetry or music we attain but brief and indeterminate glimpses" (
The Poetic Principle). This is why Poe claimed, in explaining how he wrote
The Raven, that "the death of a beautiful woman is unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world", and that "melancholy is the most legitimate of all the poetical tones" (
The Philosophy of Composition). Struggling to grasp the Beauty above, Poe's vision was often clouded, as he suggested in
Alone, by "a demon in my view".
Texten är längre, men det här var det viktigaste. Annan rekommenderad läsning av Poe, förutom hans dikter och noveller är:
The Poetic Principlehttp://www.netpoets.com/classic/poems/049009.htmÄven
The Philosophy of Composition i vilken han förklarar hur han skrev
The Raven är väldigt intressant.
http://www.poedecoder.com/Qrisse/works/philosophy.htmlDen här sidan är för övrigt väldigt bra.
http://www.poedecoder.com/Qrisse/Nu har det här inlägget varit ganska långt men Jag tänker ändå ta med en av hans dikter:
"From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view."
Túrin Turambar skrev:
Välkommen tillbaka förresten!
Tack, Túrin.
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