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Thoughts On Rexroth

’s Prosody Essay, Research Paper


Bradford Morrow


Rexroth’s art works by a technique of self-effacement. His


diction and line appear to be effortless, organic, inevitable, without seam. The lack of


ostentation he ascribes to his pietistic background finds as its formal companion this


straightforward prosody. Still, to dissect and describe how his line, ostensibly so simple


on the surface, actually works would be as difficult to do as explain Williams’ variable


foot: and Rexroth’s was surely a less self-consciously developed art.


The longer, philosophical poems operate quite successfully within the same set of


technical values as the shorter, lyrical poems. It is at least in part a function of


Rexroth’s anti-elitist politics that be never veers too far from a polished colloquial


syntax–that of an experienced, unaffected, worldly man speaking. One is conducted through


the seemingly spontaneous rhythms toward meaning. Like Blake, Whitman, and Lawrence, such


formal directness of language functions in perfect symmetry with an embracing, mystical


philosophy which thrusts the manners of that language out and away, almost into


palpability. Consider the variety of cadence and verbal tone in the opening lines of


"Floating":


Our canoe idles in the idling current


Of the tree and vine and rush enclosed


Backwater of a torpid midwestern stream;


Revolves slowly, and lodges in the glutted


Waterlilies. We are tired of paddling.


All afternoon we have climbed the weak current,


Up dim meanders, through woods and pastures,


Past muddy fords where the strong smell of cattle


Lay thick across the water; singing the songs


Of perfect, habitual motion; ski songs,


Nightherding songs, songs of the capstan walk,


The levee, and the roll of the voyageurs.


For all its rhythmic diversity the lines do not vary beyond nine to eleven syllables


(two thirds of the passage is comprised of hendecasyllables); there are four or five


stresses per line, mostly four. Yet by unstrained employment of different punctuation,


enjambment, and variable balancing of syllabic stresses Rexroth invokes in the reader an


actual physical feeling, the sensation of being in this idle canoe, buffeted by irregular,


lazy currents, exhausted but alert. It is a remarkable achievement of form, and is carried


off with effortless sanguinity. The final four lines constitute such a balance of


differing weights–the second line triadic, the third of almost equal proportions mounted


on the fulcrum of that comma and balanced out from the middle by the repeated "songs,


songs"–they can be compared to a Calder mobile. Similarly line-breaks are commonly


intensified in Rexroth’s work by intuitively perfect serializations of the various parts


of speech:


California rolls into


Sleepy summer, and the air


Is full of the bitter sweet


Smoke of the grass fires burning


On the San Francisco hills.


We see in the terminal positions of these opening lines of "Delia"–each of


which has exactly seven syllables–movement from preposition to noun to adjective (though


at first appearance "sweet" reads curiously like a substantive, until the eye


moves back to the beginning of the next line and reads "smoke"–making


"sweet" adjectival) to gerundial verb to noun. Thus the various points of


stress, as one moves down through the lines of the single sentence, are here accomplished


less by sheer rhythm than the grammatical expectations felt in each end-word, and the


consequent "weight" intuited by the reader in those words.


None of these effects is possible, of course, in a verse that suppresses linear syntax.


It is for this reason, as much as any other, that Rexroth abandoned the asyntactical


techniques (cubist in origin) of the "half decade of foreboding—1927-1932,"


most of which were published in The Art of Worldly Wisdom in 1949. Although he


proposed that the elements of his cubist verse (see "Prolegomenon to a


Theodicy") "are as simple as the elementary shapes of a cubist painting and the


total poem is as definite and apprehensible as the finished picture," it was the


measured, syntactical line of "Floating" and "Delia" he was to develop


and largely use from the thirties on. Even in the later poems in The Heart’s Garden,


The Garden’s Heart, On Flowe

r Wreath Hill, and The Silver Swan–so thoroughly


influenced by Japanese and Chinese models (after Waley and Pound, Rexroth was the great


bringer of East Asian poetry into our culture)–he maintains much the same voice and


cadences and line of the earlier work.


The simplicity of exact pronouncement may allow for particularly complex thought.


Precision of fact in observation, as well as in syntax or form, is perhaps nowhere more


evident than in Rexroth’s crucial book-length poem, The Dragon and the Unicorn.


That this poem is now so seldom read, even by Rexroth aficionados and practitioners of the


craft of poetry, troubled Rexroth, and depressed him. For in The Dragon and the Unicorn


we find the most complete formulation of his personal, mystical philosophy, the most


extensive indictment of Western civilization (comparable to, if not as fiery and


incantatory as "Thou Shalt Not Kill"), and perhaps the closest approximation to


his speaking voice there is in his poetical works. (An Autobiographical Novel is


the most perfect mirror to Rexroth’s spoken word, as it was dictated, and edited only


enough to get it past Doubleday’s libel lawyers.) Set as a running travelog of his


year-long journey through Wales, England, France, Italy, Switzerland, and back to America,


The Dragon and the Unicorn is a meditation on the nature of love, of time and


knowledge, of will and the responsibilities of the self-defining individual, of community


(the moral opposite of the collective, the State), and ethics. Juxtapositions are abrupt;


the life of the traveler’s mind is pingponged against crisply drawn episodes on the


road–the latter of which are in turn ribald, poignant, engaging, scientific, very


opinionately lived moments. Together the contemplation and the travelog comprise what


Rexroth himself has suggested is a Whitmanesque "interior autobiography." And


nowhere in his work is the dictum "Epistomology is moral" more intricately


played out than this poem.


However important The Dragon and the Unicorn may be for one hoping to gain some


understanding of Rexroth’s general philosophy, there is little doubt that his reputation


as a poet rests, at least for the present, more on his love and nature poems (too, on his


translations from Chinese and Japanese which, for lack of space, I was unable to include


in this selection).


Clearly, he has written some of the most beautiful love poems in the century. His lyric


celebrates not merely the disembodied metaphysic nor simply the corporeal erotic, but a


synthetic and human whole, composed of both these elements. As a religious poet, Rexroth’s


love poems are primarily of conjugal love:


Let me celebrate you. I


Have never known anyone


More beautiful than you. I


Walking beside you, watching


You move beside me, watching


That still grace of hand and thigh.


Watching your face change with words


You do not say, watching your


Solemn eyes as they turn to me,


Or turn inward, full of knowing,


Slow or quick, watching your full


Lips part and smile or turn grave,


Watching your narrow waist, your


Proud buttocks in their grace . . .


Fundamentally sacramental, seldom does the poet’s contemplation of his love of his wife


distinguish between body and soul. In the above passage from "A Dialogue of


Love" (written for Rexroth’s third wife, Marthe) the usual dichotomy between the


observing mind and the tactile flesh is consciously played down: each reflects the other.


In an earlier poem, "Between Myself and Death," the dichotomy is altogether


erased:


It is wonderful to watch you,


A living woman in a room


Full of frantic sterile people,


And think of your arching buttocks


Under your velvet evening dress,


And the beautiful fire spreading


From your sex, burning flesh and bone,


The unbelievably complex


Tissues of your brain all alive


Under your coiling, splendid hair.


———


I like to think of you naked.


I put your naked body


Between myself alone and death.


It is the most original and persuasive synthesis of transcendent metaphysical and


erotic verse written by an American poet this century.


From the Introduction to Rexroth’s Selected Poems, ed. Bradford Morrow (New


Directions, 1984). Copyright ? 1984 by Bradford Morrow.

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