aberrant decoding and poetry

[CriticalSock]

A friend of mine posted a poem on Facebook this morning which included the line

"it was all a bit Chekhov
for any kind of sex"

I thought he was using the word Chekhov to signify boring or mundane, but when I asked it turned out he was referring to the frustrating silences common in his plays.

So that set me thinking about meaning, language, communication and the basic fabric of society itself! If this one word could have different meanings between two people of the same sex, same age (roughly) and same culture then how much worse must it be between people with greater differences? How can men ever understand women? Young people understand old people? English people understand American?

Poetry makes everything worse of course. Poems deliberately try to obscure meaning behind metaphor and simile and obscure references. "The frustrating silences meant that they didn't have sex" isn't poetry.

(ok not all poems, I'm making a generalisation)

How can poems ever work?? Your Chekhov isn't my Chekhov. But they DO work and that boggles my mind!

All of this led me to aberrant decoding, the concept Umberto Eco came up with and a Marketing type friend of mine introduced me to recently.

The thoughts that we are encoding into the language we use to transmit them are never exactly the thoughts that the code gets decoded into in the recipients brain!

In which case an Atheist can'tcommunicate with a Christian. A Sceptic can't communicate with a Wooster. The process of encoding and decoding destroys the communication.

Or does it?

Maybe the solution to the trench warfare of Atheism vs Theism lies in poetry...

 

[yomero]

In my opinion, a good poet uses the ambiguity of certain words to strengthen his message. The reader may capture the different meanings within a single word, all of them leading to a richer understanding of the poem. The following lines from Wilfred Owen's Dulce et Decorum Est could illustrate my point. Owen is describing the agony of a soldier who has just been gassed:

''In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.''

From the context, I had an idea of the meaning of guttering, nevertheless I looked for the definition in the dictionary. As a verb, gutter means ''to flow in a stream'' and also ''to melt and flow down the sides as wax in a candle.'' As a noun gutter means the ''narrow channel by the side of a street leading to a sewer'' and it has the connotation of squalor and filth. The composite idea I get is of the hideous sound and sight of blood issuing ''from the froth corrupted lungs'' with each breath the unfortunate soldier takes. Besides, the word guttering sounds like gutural and is a bit onomatopoeic of the repulsive scene. All of that I got from just one word.

http://www.english.emory.edu/LostPoets/Dulce.html

 

[CriticalSock]

I see how that works great for you, but if you were a builder who spent all his days installing drainpipes then that word could throw you out of the poem completely. He'd get a feeling of insecurity at standing on top of a ladder, cold and miserable maybe.

I get what your saying, but doesn't using ambiguity deliberately actually have the effect of narrowing the range of people who will recieve your communication? Only people who have associations to the word used that are in the same zone of meaning will "get" your communication?

Is, perhaps, the ultimate poem:

The Cat,
sat on
the Mat.

 

[yomero]

You are right. Ambiguity is great in poetry, not so in other instances. The reason physicians use medical jargon is not to prevent laypersons from understanding. It's used to guarantee that medical staff understand precisely what is meant. Ambiguity in such cases could have disastrous results.

In the paragraph above, I had originally written ''catastrophic results''. It didn't look right. It sounded asif I was saying that an entire community would suffer undesired bad results from a medical misunderstanding. What I aimed to communicate is that an individual patient would be affected. ''Disastrous results'' is nearer to what I meant.

 

[Spockette]

Poets, at least good poets, do not try to "obscure meaning behind metaphors." Poets often try to load multiple meanings into words so that they can expand the reader's mental horizons. I think the example of "all a bit Chekhov" is a poor one because it doesn't really do that. It requires not just knowledge of who Chekhov was, but also a particular attitude toward his work that is not necessarily shared by many people. Compression is one of poetry's greatest powers, but it has to be done well.

I'll give an example from one of my own poems that I humbly think may be useful. The poem discusses the fact that for me at least, poems have to be actually written down in order to be created (I can't create the whole thing in my head). The last lines are:

Scorn not the construction crew
shattering your sleep at 6 a.m.
without their kind you would
awake to nothing.

The word "nothing" is meant to imply not only lack of noise, but the utter lack of anything material at all in the world. One could even say that you would awake to death, since that is nothingness. IMHO, any ordinary person can infer all these meanings with a bit of thought, whereas it would be much more unlikely for an ordinary person to get the exact meaning that your poet intended.

So, to answer your question, a poem "works" when the poet uses just the right words to communicate, and sometimes it's very hard to find these words. Like any writer, a poet needs to be aware of who his/her audience is. If your friend was writing for Russian literature lovers, then maybe the Chekhov reference would be appropriate, but for the general public, even the general literate public, it might be pushing it a little. I mean, I've read Chekhov and I didn't get it. I think it would have been possible to add something about "frustrating silence" that would have gracefully clarified the idea, but then it's not my poem.

 

[TubbaBlubba]

Poets, at least good poets, do not try to "obscure meaning behind metaphors."

That's not really true in general, many great works of poetry are waist-deep in difficult-to-interpret metaphors.

What IS true is that many mediocre poets add a lot of unnecessary and uninteresting metaphor, namedropping and obscure references, for some reason I can't quite understand. Typically these poems are short in other qualities - scanning, language, etc.

I'd say it's a good bit more likely that a poem with lots of obscure meaning is mediocre than great, but it is by no means anything resembling a certainty.

But I guess that it is a somewhat common features of great poems of this sort is that you can appreciate and be moved and sort of intuitively understand them, without literally understanding the meaning of the metaphors.

 

[jiggeryqua]

That's not really true in general, many great works of poetry are waist-deep in difficult-to-interpret metaphors.

What IS true is that many mediocre poets add a lot of unnecessary and uninteresting metaphor, namedropping and obscure references, for some reason I can't quite understand. Typically these poems are short in other qualities - scanning, language, etc.

I'd say it's a good bit more likely that a poem with lots of obscure meaning is mediocre than great, but it is by no means anything resembling a certainty.

But I guess that it is a somewhat common features of great poems of this sort is that you can appreciate and be moved and sort of intuitively understand them, without literally understanding the meaning of the metaphors.

I'd appreciate examples of great poetry that is intentionally obtuse. I was considering chipping in earlier to point out that only mediocre (or downright appalling) wannabe poets intentionally obscure meaning. At least we agree on that much. I'll also agree that it can sometimes be difficult to understand, eg, Shakespeare or Milton or Dryden and so on, given that much of their vocabulary is now antiquated and many of their references are no longer common currency. But that's not intentional on their part.

I'm not intending to argue the merit of any given poem, by the way - there's bound to be great poems I've never read by great poets I've never heard of. But it might help to add some justification to your examples - poets laureate, perhaps, or those otherwise nationally recognised.

 

[TubbaBlubba]

Well, a classic example (and one you've certainly read) is Frost's "The Road Not Taken". On a shallow reading that doesn't pay careful attention to every line, it appears to be about the virtue of taking the difficult or odd paths in life, if you will.

Of course, on a careful reading, it appears to be about feelings of remorse and rationalization (suddenly, in the future, the road he travelled goes from "about the same" to "less travelled by") over past decisions, and in fact the first interpretation starts to seem absurd.

I guess we could argue about whether Frost intended the poem to be easily misunderstood and difficult to interpret, or whether he just overestimated the people who would read his works. I would be surprised to find out that he did not in fact intend it.

 

[jiggeryqua]

Well, a classic example (and one you've certainly read) is Frost's "The Road Not Taken". On a shallow reading that doesn't pay careful attention to every line, it appears to be about the virtue of taking the difficult or odd paths in life, if you will.

Of course, on a careful reading, it appears to be about feelings of remorse and rationalization (suddenly, in the future, the road he travelled goes from "about the same" to "less travelled by") over past decisions, and in fact the first interpretation starts to seem absurd.

I guess we could argue about whether Frost intended the poem to be easily misunderstood and difficult to interpret, or whether he just overestimated the people who would read his works. I would be surprised to find out that he did not in fact intend it.

A classic indeed, and one I have certainly read and often reference - I think it even came up at school, and a British school at that (as if we didn't have poets enough of our own). But I don't think it's intentionally obtuse, in the manner of mediocre poets, striving to hide their meaning, nor even accidentally obtuse, requiring some common background with the poet - it's great poetry because it speaks to universal human experience. Of course it allows for a surface reading and also contains a deeper meaning (that's poetry), but that deeper meaning is not 'hidden', it's right there for anyone with the wit to delve deeper. Indeed, you are obliged to posit a reader who does not even pay attention for the 'hidden' meaning not to be clear. It doesn't begin to belong to the same class as the OP's 'all a bit Chekhov'.

 

[TubbaBlubba]

Well OK, might as well bring up this one... This one is not quite as famous, but I've spent quite a bit of time pondering the meaning of it. I'm going to guess that you've stumbled upon it at some point, dunno if you've spent time analyzing it.

Cohen - Master Song

OK, we have a whole bunch of biblical imagery, as is to be expected. As far as obscure metaphor goes, we have in the fourth verse... we have somewhat obtuse references to Voronoff's experiments (Don't know if the rubber bands signify anything). Greek myth follows. Then some obscure metaphor (Bed of snow?). We get the idea that their relationship isn't working very well, and there's some "master" who has mesmerized the woman in the narrator's apparent depression. But then we get to the final part, where apparently the master used to be the disciple of the narrator, and finally a more assertive repetition of the beginning.

The significance of all this is... Well, obscure. My best figure is that the narrator and the Master are the same person. The narrator (Cohen himself, most likely) got depressed, and lost his mojo, and seems to have trouble (near paranoia) relating to his woman who takes care of him, believing that she only wants the "other" him, perhaps she's talking about the things she wants to do when he's better.

Or I'm completely off. Maybe there's some secret knowledge that will make this all make sense: In any case it is clearly intended to be very difficult to interpret, with some lines (e.g. ape with angel glands) being impossible to comprehend without specific background knowledge.

But despite the fact that I can't get it to make sense, I think it is an absolutely fantastic piece of poetry, the imagery is incredibly vivid (even though some of it is very odd), and it's great on all the more technical notes of course, the narrative flow is amazing, and so on. In this case, I don't think the relative obtuseness of the significance behind this poem/song (not sure if it was just a poem before it became a song) makes it worse - it makes it mysterious and interesting.

 

[jiggeryqua]

Well OK, might as well bring up this one... This one is not quite as famous, but I've spent quite a bit of time pondering the meaning of it. I'm going to guess that you've stumbled upon it at some point, dunno if you've spent time analyzing it.

Cohen - Master Song

OK, we have a whole bunch of biblical imagery, as is to be expected. As far as obscure metaphor goes, we have in the fourth verse... we have somewhat obtuse references to Voronoff's experiments (Don't know if the rubber bands signify anything). Greek myth follows. Then some obscure metaphor (Bed of snow?). We get the idea that their relationship isn't working very well, and there's some "master" who has mesmerized the woman in the narrator's apparent depression. But then we get to the final part, where apparently the master used to be the disciple of the narrator, and finally a more assertive repetition of the beginning.

The significance of all this is... Well, obscure. My best figure is that the narrator and the Master are the same person. The narrator (Cohen himself, most likely) got depressed, and lost his mojo, and seems to have trouble (near paranoia) relating to his woman who takes care of him, believing that she only wants the "other" him, perhaps she's talking about the things she wants to do when he's better.

Or I'm completely off. Maybe there's some secret knowledge that will make this all make sense: In any case it is clearly intended to be very difficult to interpret, with some lines (e.g. ape with angel glands) being impossible to comprehend without specific background knowledge.

But despite the fact that I can't get it to make sense, I think it is an absolutely fantastic piece of poetry, the imagery is incredibly vivid (even though some of it is very odd), and it's great on all the more technical notes of course, the narrative flow is amazing, and so on. In this case, I don't think the relative obtuseness of the significance behind this poem/song (not sure if it was just a poem before it became a song) makes it worse - it makes it mysterious and interesting.

The only Cohen collection I've got is the Energy of Slaves, and of course some awareness of his more popular 'songs' (which was just his way of getting his poetry to a wider audience). I'm obliged to acknowledge him as a pretty good poet (I did promise not to quibble about 'great', but...), but I'm not sure this is a great poem - I can see myself twisting my argument into a circle, I know, but it's not a great poem because it doesn't readily divulge its meaning, even to readers as intelligent as you and I. Or you, and I...

Part of the problem is that he has a rhyme scheme to maintain. I think there's little more to 'ape+angel' than a view of humanity as both base and divine, but he has to rhyme with hands and stands so he shoehorns that view into "ape with angel glands" (I was going to compare this with Dylan's 'Shelter from the Storm' in which the one-eyed undertaker plays a flugelhorn, but I've just looked at a few lyrics sites and apparantly it's 'futile horn'. All these years....) I had to wiki Voronoff - I really do think you're reading too much into that, though kudos for being too well informed for your own good

Perhaps also in common with Dylan, his personality and your attachment to him as a performer (I'm guessing) influences the way you receive his work. It's impossible to say how you'd greet his obfuscation if he were an unknown and the words were merely text and not delivered with his beguiling growl. Because you know he's a pretty good poet (I can't bring myself to say he's great), you are tantalised by what you cannot interpret, rather than put off by it.

I'm tantalised by "your thighs are a ruin", because they can't help but remind me of Dylan Thomas' 'Under Milk Wood':

ROSIE PROBERT (_Softly_)

What seas did you see,
Tom Cat, Tom Cat,
In your sailoring days
Long long ago?
What sea beasts were
In the wavery green
When you were my master?

CAPTAIN CAT

I'll tell you the truth.
Seas barking like seals,
Blue seas and green,
Seas covered with eels
And mermen and whales.

ROSIE PROBERT

What seas did you sail
Old whaler when
On the blubbery waves
Between Frisco and Wales
You were my bosun?

CAPTAIN CAT

As true as I'm here
Dear you Tom Cat's tart
You landlubber Rosie
You cosy love
My easy as easy
My true sweetheart,
Seas green as a bean
Seas gliding with swans
In the seal-barking moon.

ROSIE PROBERT

What seas were rocking
My little deck hand
My favourite husband
In your seaboots and hunger
My duck my whaler
My honey my daddy
My pretty sugar sailor.
With my name on your belly
When you were a boy
Long long ago?

CAPTAIN CAT

I'll tell you no lies.
The only sea I saw
Was the seesaw sea
With you riding on it.
Lie down, lie easy.
Let me shipwreck in your thighs.
ROSIE PROBERT,

Knock twice, Jack,
At the door of my grave
And ask for Rosie.

CAPTAIN CAT

Rosie Probert.

ROSIE PROBERT

Remember her.
She is forgetting.
The earth which filled her mouth
Is vanishing from her.
Remember me.
I have forgotten you.
I am going into the darkness of the darkness for ever.
I have forgotten that I was ever born.

____

Oh bliss.

But I still don't know what a seal-barking sea is, though he's already told of us seas that bark like seals (?). And what are 'blubbery waves'? We get the whaling boat reference, but it's a tenuous connection to the nature of waves. I once undertook (succesfully) to memorise the whole thing (UMW, not just this passage) and present it as a one-man show, which helped me unravel the meaning of some of it, but it is still replete with metaphors and references that elude me. I deliver them confidently, in ignorance, and rely on the inate poetry of it all to carry the audience with me.

So yes, I must concede that even great poetry can be impenetrable - but what makes it great and carries the reader/listener through is the other skills of the poet: the rhythms and sounds of the words themselves. Dylans Thomas and Bob both benefit from it and on your evidence Cohen does too.

 

[TubbaBlubba]

So yes, I must concede that even great poetry can be impenetrable - but what makes it great and carries the reader/listener through is the other skills of the poet: the rhythms and sounds of the words themselves. Dylans Thomas and Bob both benefit from it and on your evidence Cohen does too.

Agreed. I, personally, frequently appreciate poetry for its technical aspects more than its meaning.

Part of the problem is that he has a rhyme scheme to maintain. I think there's little more to 'ape+angel' than a view of humanity as both base and divine, but he has to rhyme with hands and stands so he shoehorns that view into "ape with angel glands" (I was going to compare this with Dylan's 'Shelter from the Storm' in which the one-eyed undertaker plays a flugelhorn, but I've just looked at a few lyrics sites and apparantly it's 'futile horn'. All these years....) I had to wiki Voronoff - I really do think you're reading too much into that, though kudos for being too well informed for your own good

The only reason I don't think it's terribly far-fetched is because the Master's great libido and virility as compared to the narrator is a recurring theme in the song.

Perhaps also in common with Dylan, his personality and your attachment to him as a performer (I'm guessing) influences the way you receive his work. It's impossible to say how you'd greet his obfuscation if he were an unknown and the words were merely text and not delivered with his beguiling growl. Because you know he's a pretty good poet (I can't bring myself to say he's great), you are tantalised by what you cannot interpret, rather than put off by it.

(Actually, he hadn't acquired his characteristic growly voice by the time he performed this. He sounded pretty washed-up back in the sixties)

Anyway, we can't really double-blind test poetry effectively. What's important, in the end, is how we perceive it and how it affects us. The body of work and character of the poet will be a component of this, in any real situation. What makes a good or great poet will in any case be subjective, at best measured by the experience of people. It's certainly undeniable that William T. McGonagall's poems were extremely poorly scanned and repeated the same rhymes over and over and were extremely dull and matter-of-fact - on the other hand, they are still read today and have provided countless laughs for that elusive hilarious character of them. In a way, this makes them great, even if it was unintentional.

You could, by the way, say the same about certain works of any art form. If you'd seen Pollock's Lucifer or any of Picasso's most abstract works or something and had been unaware of who made them and how great they were considered and the ideas behind them, you likely would have perceived them as a bunch of weird colour blotches. Art is what we make of it.