May 16, 2006

To Mickles and Mencia, with love...

What follows is an excerpt from my topics paper especially dedicated to probably the only two people who read my blog besides Colleen. Enjoy!

I bought a bottle of Itoen Ooi Ocha for my lunch before leaving for Hamamatsu to attend their annual kite festival during the Golden Week holidays. On the bus to the beach where the giant kites would fight it out, I fidgeted with the strange day glow green bottle, that is until I noticed the following haiku written on the side.

大晦日今年も地味にそば食べる
omisoka kotoshi mo jimi ni soba taberu
on New Year’s Eve: this year too I’ll eat my noodles plain

だれが来て私の心をノックして
dare ga kite watashi no kokoro o nokku shite
someone’s coming but my heart does the knocking

今急に大きな海が見たくなった
ima kyuu ni ooki na umi ga mitaku natta
now all of a sudden I got the desire to see the open sea

these three poems appear on a half liter bottle. as one might expect the two liter bottle has more poems, though the exact number varies in my experience between seven and ten. the size of the bottle does not set an absolute limit but rather a somewhat flexible upper and lower bound. statistically speaking, then, the smaller bottle is a smaller text in terms of the number of verses.

there is no real consensus among classicists if the Catullan corpus as we have it constitutes a whole book in the sense of liber, that is one whole papyrus scroll. a great deal of research has been done by papyrologists such as Birk Oddink as to what the upper and lower bounds of a papyrus scroll text would be, but the results are neither definite nor terribly enlightening for our purposes. it is partially Catullus’ fault. he refers to his own work as a libellum, the use of which diminuitive has led some to express the opinion that the “polished off book” (libellum… expolitum) of the supposed dedicatory verse in fact only comprises poems 1-60 of our corpus or some combination of that and the other shorter verses, namely those in elegiac couplets. this opinion takes libellum to be literal, “a small book,” and is largely dependent upon a reading of Cat. 1 as an entirely sincere dedicatory verse.

Cornelius, to you: for you were accustomed
to think that my trifles were really something
since then, when you alone among Italians
dared to scribe every age in three volumes
learned, by Jove, and thoroughly wrought.

If We are to believe this dedication to be sincere, We also need to assume that Catullus values qualities like doctus and laboriosus. This Catullus, this seeeeerious Catullus, this member of the same fraternal orders as the “old, learned, respectable bald heads” reveres the voluminous product of extensive historical research and desperately yearns for its approval. This Catullus has something of an inferiority complex; this Catullus defers to power; this Catullus would write a “little book.”

diminuitives are tricky things; certainly We might take them literally. there’s no reason not to. but anyone with half a brain knows they have an adjacent sense as well, a usage that indicates a degree of one’s concern for the diminished object rather than mere size. I am fairly certain no one would mistake “you poor little thing” for “you small object of limited financial means.” what then, if libellum has little or nothing to do with the size of the liber? does this Catullus really think his trifles are trivial? would docta be a little more than dogmatic, and is “laborious” more than a mere cognate? Who is this Cornelius, anyway, and why would this Catullus be using his tomes for anything besides doorstops, table props, or paperweights? The only other memorable use of the word carta in our Catullan corpus refers to them as shat on (cacata).

9 Comments:

At 1:26 AM, Blogger Michael K. said...

Hey look, (somebody), Nicholas can write! Or perhaps more surprisingly: Nicholas can share!

These are tricky trifles indeed, NT. Where do you go with the bottle-verses after this point?

I could learn a lot from your little. I'm feeling the need to take a break from maximalism.

 
At 1:29 AM, Blogger Michael K. said...

Oh, and: yeah, it seems the four of us (you, me, Colleen, and Su-san) are the only ones with their crania not firmly implanted in their recta in the blogosphere these days. Here's to virtual conviviality (or convivial virtuality).

 
At 3:30 AM, Blogger Nicholas Theisen said...

I admit, I'm not good at sharing.

I think it has something to do with the fact my ideas always look stupider on paper than they do when I talk about them. It's probably just me, but I usually hate anything I've written within a week of writing it.

After this, I go into a discussion of Catullus 49-52, with multiple ironic readings. I suppose it's a really bad idea to excerpt from a paper about sequence and context. The bottle poems may not make a reappearance, but I do want to flesh out what/where the kite festival is so the uncanniness of the poems comes out.

 
At 12:17 PM, Blogger Michael K. said...

God, if you were here, I think I'd give you a hug right now, you big silly man.

Nicholas, you should know by now that ALL of us hate our own writing, and while your turnover period is relatively quick - I start hating my own stuff only about a month or two after I write it - nothing about that feeling is peculiar to you.

What strikes me here as so wildly cool is the whole idea that the 'trivialization' of the poetic work - whether by printing it on a throwaway consumer object, or by calling one's opus a 'libellum' - forces it into an entirely different, and, one could say, much wider form of circulation, where it has a peculiar advantage at sinking into the contours of 'trivial' everyday awareness, viz. yr uncanny kite-festival experience (which I'd like to hear about). What ends up happening, of course, is that the trivial makes itself felt (and read) in ways that aren't trivial at all.

I think I've earned the right to pat myself on the back for coming up with all that on a grand total of 15 minutes of sleep last night.

 
At 12:18 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

"I usually hate anything I've written within a week of writing it" this is a good sign, nicholas. it says you are still growing. if one day you look at what you once wrote and say, damn it, this is so much better than what i have now, you are over.

I loved the haikus. they brought one right to the moment and helped me remember my japanese. people would at least say, hmm, that guy has immaculate taste for poetry though/and he is often out of his mind:-) btw, are these lines fairly well-known or simply genius sparkles from some unknown factory workers?

 
At 6:52 PM, Blogger Nicholas Theisen said...

All three poems were written by high school students, all 17 years old, from various parts of the country.

Most people who know me know that I don't think much of anything is trivial. If anything, I tend to give undue significance to even the most mundane occurrences.

I'm really fascinated by what Itoen has been doing with these haiku submissions, because they literally come from all age brackets (the youngest one I saw was 5, the oldest 76), whereas the poems published in the various weekly news magazines are generally a club for septa- and octogenerians.

 
At 5:19 AM, Blogger Patty said...

hey nicholas! sorry about using blogger to get a hold of you, but i don't *really* have another email account that i use...i got your msg re: fraker paper i presented last fall. i'm more than happy to send you a copy w/images...the problem is that my email has been down for a few days now (in fact the server got all messed up pretty much right after i read your mail). anyhoo, i didn't want you to think that i was just lazy, or not getting back to you...i hope it'll be up soon. if not, i'll try to dig up the paper on my hard drive (eeek!?) and send it to you from jd's computer or something. lemme know if you need it "urgentemente"...

and btw, yes i do in fact read your blog but never comment, mostly because...well...i just don't ever feel smart enough! ;P

tally ho! (write me over blogger until web mail stops jerking me around--toodles!)

 
At 3:46 AM, Blogger Nicholas Theisen said...

Pacchan, sorry to hear about your email worries; I too have been a victim of the caprice of michigan pop mail. Get it to me whenever; within a couple of weeks would be nice but by no means necessary. I tend to write fairly aphoristically anyway.

As for "not being smart enough," I wouldn't worry. It never seems to impede Mike much.

Oh, face!

 
At 5:58 AM, Blogger Colleen said...

I like unicorns.

There. Now anyone can say anything.

 

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