{"title":"Irritable Lines: The Revision of Shakespeare’s Blank Verse in Robert Creeley’s “The Crisis”","authors":"Alessandro Porco","doi":"10.1080/00144940.2023.2253555","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"Charles Bernstein is one of a chorus of critics who praises the “microtonal inflections” that characterize postmodern American poet Robert Creeley’s prosody—in particular, Creeley’s “radical use of the line break”: “[His] exquisitely precise lines,” writes Bernstein, “measure the pressure of reality through their articulation of emotional rupture or turbulence” (132). In the early 1950s, this “emotional rupture or turbulence” is often localized to Creeley’s discussions of the institution of marriage and domestic strife therein—what Sherman Paul identifies as the poet’s “personal” and “common” subject matter (382). “The Crisis” is one of Creeley’s earliest and most iconic poems in this mode, scrutinizing marital tensions with angst, self-loathing, and irony. As the poet explains in a letter to Charles Olson from April 12, 1952, he is trying in “The Crisis” to develop a “feel” for “irritation” (241). This “irritation” rises to drama because of a surprising interpolation of a passage from Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice—I say surprising because, unlike Louis Zukofsky or Olson (mentor and friend, respectively), Creeley’s poetry and poetics are not typically so self-consciously in conversation with Shakespeare. In “The Crisis,” however, Creeley’s speaker voices Portia’s plea for justice (“the quality of mercy is not strained” [4.1.188]), and in doing so he revises Shakespeare’s blank verse to test—and, ultimately, contest—the Bard’s moral and metrical wisdom in the context of love and marriage at midcentury. “The Crisis”’s ironic vision is immediate, with a title that suggests the intensities of Cold War geopolitics, Existential philosophy, and poetic debates of the period—everything and everyone on the brink of some kind of annihilation or discovery or both. In contrast, the first line of predominantly monosyllabic words is long, plodding, and awkward, while the first sentence in its entirety (distributed across lines 1-4) serio-comically corrects the title’s scale and severity. It establishes the poem’s speaker and occasion: a disenchanted husband is disproportionately upset about a repeatedly misplaced “towel” in his home and, https://doi.org/10.1080/00144940.2023.2253555","PeriodicalId":42643,"journal":{"name":"EXPLICATOR","volume":"81 1","pages":"81 - 84"},"PeriodicalIF":0.2000,"publicationDate":"2023-04-03","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"EXPLICATOR","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1080/00144940.2023.2253555","RegionNum":3,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"0","JCRName":"LITERATURE","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 0
Abstract
Charles Bernstein is one of a chorus of critics who praises the “microtonal inflections” that characterize postmodern American poet Robert Creeley’s prosody—in particular, Creeley’s “radical use of the line break”: “[His] exquisitely precise lines,” writes Bernstein, “measure the pressure of reality through their articulation of emotional rupture or turbulence” (132). In the early 1950s, this “emotional rupture or turbulence” is often localized to Creeley’s discussions of the institution of marriage and domestic strife therein—what Sherman Paul identifies as the poet’s “personal” and “common” subject matter (382). “The Crisis” is one of Creeley’s earliest and most iconic poems in this mode, scrutinizing marital tensions with angst, self-loathing, and irony. As the poet explains in a letter to Charles Olson from April 12, 1952, he is trying in “The Crisis” to develop a “feel” for “irritation” (241). This “irritation” rises to drama because of a surprising interpolation of a passage from Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice—I say surprising because, unlike Louis Zukofsky or Olson (mentor and friend, respectively), Creeley’s poetry and poetics are not typically so self-consciously in conversation with Shakespeare. In “The Crisis,” however, Creeley’s speaker voices Portia’s plea for justice (“the quality of mercy is not strained” [4.1.188]), and in doing so he revises Shakespeare’s blank verse to test—and, ultimately, contest—the Bard’s moral and metrical wisdom in the context of love and marriage at midcentury. “The Crisis”’s ironic vision is immediate, with a title that suggests the intensities of Cold War geopolitics, Existential philosophy, and poetic debates of the period—everything and everyone on the brink of some kind of annihilation or discovery or both. In contrast, the first line of predominantly monosyllabic words is long, plodding, and awkward, while the first sentence in its entirety (distributed across lines 1-4) serio-comically corrects the title’s scale and severity. It establishes the poem’s speaker and occasion: a disenchanted husband is disproportionately upset about a repeatedly misplaced “towel” in his home and, https://doi.org/10.1080/00144940.2023.2253555
期刊介绍:
Concentrating on works that are frequently anthologized and studied in college classrooms, The Explicator, with its yearly index of titles, is a must for college and university libraries and teachers of literature. Text-based criticism thrives in The Explicator. One of few in its class, the journal publishes concise notes on passages of prose and poetry. Each issue contains between 25 and 30 notes on works of literature, ranging from ancient Greek and Roman times to our own, from throughout the world. Students rely on The Explicator for insight into works they are studying.