i know poetry doesn't come up much in this thread...i started teaching two sections of "World Masterpieces 2: Encountering Modernity" this week. to review and practice reading and annotating strategies this first week of class, i always print out a few poems from modernist poets i'm digging to
tussle with together in class, and one of the poems we're going to work on in tomorrow's classes is the following from Gwendolyn Brooks, who i firmly believe was to the South Side of Chicago, what people say Faulkner (or Flannery O'Connor, and/or Zora Neale Hurston) is to the South
"kitchenette building" (1945)
We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan,
Grayed in, and gray. “Dream” makes a giddy sound, not
strong
Like “rent,” “feeding a wife,” “satisfying a man.”
But could a dream send up through onion fumes
Its white and violet, fight with fried potatoes
And yesterday’s garbage ripening in the hall,
Flutter, or sing an aria down these rooms
Even if we were willing to let it in,
Had time to warm it, keep it very clean,
Anticipate a message, let it begin?
We wonder. But not well! not for a minute!
Since Number Five is out of the bathroom now,
We think of lukewarm water, hope to get in it.
since i'm at it, i'm also bringing in this classic from Wallace Stevens--this one always sparks terrific discussions
"Anecdote of the Jar" (1919)
I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.
The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild.
The jar was round upon the ground
And tall and of a port in air.
It took dominion everywhere.
The jar was gray and bare.
It did not give of bird or bush,
Like nothing else in Tennessee.