Marjorie Perloff, among our foremost critics of twentieth-century poetry, argues that Ludwig Wittgenstein provided writers with a radical new aesthetic, a key to recognizing the inescapable strangeness of ordinary language. Taking seriously Wittgenstein's remark that "philosophy ought really to be written only as a form of poetry," Perloff begins by discussing Wittgenstein the "poet." What we learn is that the poetics of everyday life is anything but banal. "This book has the lucidity and the intelligence we have (...) come to expect from Marjorie Perloff.—Linda Munk, _American Literature_ "[Perloff] has brilliantly adapted Wittgenstein's conception of meaning and use to an analysis of contemporary language poetry."—Linda Voris, _Boston Review_ "_Wittgenstein's Ladder_ offers significant insights into the current state of poetry, literature, and literary study. Perloff emphasizes the vitality of reading and thinking about poetry, and the absolute necessity of pushing against the boundaries that define and limit our worlds."—David Clippinger, _Chicago Review_ "Majorie Perloff has done more to illuminate our understanding of twentieth century poetic language than perhaps any other critic.... Entertaining, witty, and above all highly original."—Willard Bohn, _Sub-Stance_. (shrink)

Marjorie Perloff, among our foremost critics of twentieth-century poetry, argues that Ludwig Wittgenstein provided writers with a radical new aesthetic, a key to recognizing the inescapable strangeness of ordinary language. Taking seriously Wittgenstein's remark that "philosophy ought really to be written only as a form of poetry," Perloff begins by discussing Wittgenstein the "poet." What we learn is that the poetics of everyday life is anything but banal. "This book has the lucidity and the intelligence we have (...) come to expect from Marjorie Perloff.--Linda Munk, American Literature "[Perloff] has brilliantly adapted Wittgenstein's conception of meaning and use to an analysis of contemporary language poetry."--Linda Voris, Boston Review " Wittgenstein's Ladder offers significant insights into the current state of poetry, literature, and literary study. Perloff emphasizes the vitality of reading and thinking about poetry, and the absolute necessity of pushing against the boundaries that define and limit our worlds."--David Clippinger, Chicago Review "Majorie Perloff has done more to illuminate our understanding of twentieth century poetic language than perhaps any other critic. . . . Entertaining, witty, and above all highly original."--Willard Bohn, Sub-Stance. (shrink)

Name der Zeitschrift: Wittgenstein-Studien Jahrgang: 5 Heft: 1 Seiten: 259-272.

Derrida’s quite uncharacteristic literalism is surprising: he takes de Man and Dosogne at their word,6 thus boxing himself into a peculiar corner. If indeed there was no censorship of de Man’s articles written prior to August 1942, why is his “discourse … constantly split, disjointed, engaged in incessant conflicts”? If the young de Man could speak freely, why do “all the propositions [in his texts] carry within themselves a counterproposition” ? If, on the other hand, as Denuit and others have (...) made amply clear, there was in fact censorship all along, the Führerprinzip operating from the day de Becker took over Le Soir, then we have to conclude that de Man is not telling the truth in his letter to Poggioli. Either way, the statement is compromised. As for the word Nazi, it is not at all surprising that de Man didn’t use it in his texts for Le Soir. Hitler’s strategy, at the time, was to try to convince the Belgians that annexation to Germany was no more than an inevitable return to the glorious German fatherland, the home of Culture, the Arts, Philosophy. Indeed, if the Nazis could be seen as simply equivalent to the Germans of tradition, the Belgians had nothing to fear! 6. See Culler, “Letter to the Editor,” p. 4: “De Man ceased writing for Le Soir in the fall of 1942, when the Nazis extended censorship to the cultural section of the paper.” Marjorie Perloff, professor of English and comparative literature at Stanford University, is the author of Futurist Moment: Avant-Garde, Avant Guerre, and the Language of Rupture . A collection of her recent essays, Of Canons and Contemporaries, is forthcoming. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Whose New American Poetry? Anthologizing in the NinetiesMarjorie Perloff (bio)In the two-year span 1993–94, no fewer than three major poetry anthologies appeared that featured the poetry of what has been called “the other tradition”—the tradition inaugurated thirty-five years ago by Donald M. Allen’s New American Poetry: 1945–1960. These three anthologies are, in order of publication, Eliot Weinberger’s American Poetry since 1950: Innovators and Outsiders, Paul Hoover’s Postmodern American (...) Poetry, and Douglas Messerli’s From the Other Side of the Century. A New American Poetry 1960–1990. 1 In 1994, moreover, there were two other large anthologies of alternate poetries by “younger” poets, 2 these two in the tradition of Ron Silliman’s In The American Tree: Language, Poetry, Realism and Douglas Messerli’s earlier ‘Language’ Poetries: An Anthology. They are Peter Gizzi, Connell McGrath, and Juliana Spahr’s two-volume anthology called Writing from the New Coast, 3 and Dennis Barone and Peter Ganick’s The Art of Practice: 45 Contemporary Poets.Five volumes, then, of the “new” alternate poetries. And a sixth—this time a real blockbuster—is in progress: Jerome Rothenberg and Pierre Joris’s two-volume Poems for the Millennium: The University of California Book of Modern and Postmodern Poetry, which differs from all of the above by covering poetry and poetics of the entire twentieth century and from around the world. The first volume of Poems for the Millennium, From Fin-de-Siècle to Negritude (1995), takes us from such “forerunners” of Modernism as Blake, Hölderlin, Dickinson, and Rimbaud through the Futurisms, Dada, Surrealism, and Objectivism, along with complex “galleries” of individual poets, while the second—and sure to be more controversial—volume (1997) brings us up to the global present.A new avant-garde thus seems to be in the making—indeed, oxymoronic as it may sound, a new avant-garde consensus. Yet the countercanonizing of the recent anthologies is not without its own aporias. What these are is my subject here.The Modest OppositionMy starting point is that of the avant-garde anthologists themselves: Donald Allen’s New American Poetry of 1960. From the vantage point of 1995, the most startling thing about the Allen anthology—still acknowledged by all later anthologists as the fountainhead of radical American poetics—is its modesty. The New American Poetry runs to 454 pages, including statements of poetics, biographical notes, and a short bibliography; it contains forty-four poets, all of them having come to prominence in the period between 1945 (the [End Page 104] end of World War II) and 1960 (the date of publication). The four-page preface opens as follows:In the years since the war American poetry has entered upon a singularly rich period. It is a period that has seen published many of the finest achievements of the older generation: William Carlos Williams’ Paterson, The Desert Music and Other Poems, and Journey to Love; Ezra Pound’s The Pisan Cantos, Section: Rock-Drill, and Thrones; H. D.’s later work culminating in her long poem Helen in Egypt; and the recent verse of E. E. Cummings, Marianne Moore, and the late Wallace Stevens. A wide variety of poets of the second generation, who emerged in the thirties and forties, have achieved their maturity in this period: Elizabeth Bishop, Edwin Denby, Robert Lowell, Kenneth Rexroth, and Louis Zukofsky, to name only a few very diverse talents. And we can now see that a strong third generation, long awaited but only slowly recognized, has at last emerged.[xi]Note that Allen introduces the “new” American poetry, not as an “alternative” to anything else but as the successor of two preceding generations. He does not quarrel about the Moderns: if Eliot isn’t included in the above list, it is because he had stopped writing lyric poetry after Four Quartets and had turned to the theater. The cited second generation, moreover, is more “diverse” (Allen’s word) here than it will ever be again in the anthologies: Bishop and Denby, Lowell and Rexroth and Zukofsky. And the third generation, presumably following in the footsteps of the first and second, is now said to... (shrink)

Whatever we choose to call Beckett’s series of disjunctive and repetitive paragraphs , Ill Seen Ill Said surely has little in common with the short story or the novella. Yet this is how the editors of the New Yorker, where Beckett’s piece first appeared in English in 1981, evidently thought of it, for like all New Yorker short stories, it is punctuated by cartoons and, what is even more ironic, by a “real” poem, Harold Brodkey’s “Sea Noise” . Notice that (...) the reader immediately knows—or is supposed to know—that Brodkey is a poet and Beckett a fiction writer, not only because “Sea Noise” is designated a poem in the issue’s table of contents, but also because its placement on the page, framed by white space, distinguishes it from Ill Seen Ill Said, which is printed in standard New Yorker columns. Yet if we examine the sound structure of Brodkey’s poem, we find that the rhythm of recurrence is, if anything, less prominent here than in the Beckett “prose.” The four stanzas are of irregular line length ; the stress count ranges from one to five ; rhyme occurs only once, at the end of the poem ; and alliteration and assonance are not marked. Unless we assume that poetry is defined by the sheer decision of its maker to lineate the text, or unless we want to call “Sea Noise” a poem because it is built around a single extended metaphor , there is no rationale for the classification the New Yorker has implicitly adopted.4The meaning of this classification is worth pondering, for it represents, in microcosm, the orthodoxy of every major literature textbook and literary history as well as of most classrooms in the United States and Britain, which that Beckett is a writer who, like the young Joyce or the young Faulkner, wrote in his dim youth some negligible, clotted lyric poems but whose real work belongs to drama and fiction. As such, we don’t teach Beckett in our poetry courses or include him in discussions of contemporary poetry and poetics. The index of any major book on the subject—say, Robert Pinsky’s The Situation of Poetry—will bear this out. And yet the irony is that contemporary poets are increasingly using forms that cannot be properly understood without the example of Beckett’s astonishing “lyrics of fiction”—to use Ryby Cohn’s apt term5—or, as I shall call them, his “associative monologues.” Perhaps, then, it is time to rethink our current procedures of canon making. In what follows, I shall use Ill Seen Ill Said as an example.4. Contemporary prosodists, perhaps because they must account for the difficult case of free verse, generally do equate verse—and hence implicitly the poem—with lineation. For example, Charles O. Hartman, in his recent Free Verse: An Essay in Prosody , observes that, difficult as it is to define the word “poetry” “rigorously and permanently,” verse can be distinguished from prose quite readily:Verse is language in lines. This distinguishes it from prose…. This is not really a satisfying distinction, as it stands, but it is the only one that works absolutely. The fact that we can tell verse from prose on sight, with very few errors…indicates that the basic perceptual difference must be very simple. Only lineation fits the requirements. [P.11]But, as I have just shown in the case of Beckett and Brodkey, what looks like verse may sound like prose and vice versa. The “basic perceptual difference” between the two is surely not as simple as Hartman suggests. I discuss this question from a somewhat different angle in “The Linear Fallacy,” Georgia Review 35 : 855-69.5. See Ruby Cohn, Back to Beckett , chap. 5, “Lyrics of Fiction.”. (shrink)

The Japanese poet-scholar John Solt is perhaps best known in the United States for his excellent biocritical study (Harvard, 1999) of the avant-garde poet Kitasono Katue, who served, from the mid-1930s on, as Ezra Pound's primary conduit to the stylization of Japanese poetics that he so admired. “Kit Kat,” as Pound fondly called the poet he knew only via their extensive correspondence, was Pound's translator, editor, and sometime collaborator; in return, Pound (who did not read Japanese) wrote admiringly of Katue's (...) work in Guide to Kulchur and elsewhere.Solt has now published a beautifully produced volume of his own distinctive poetry—a poetry that fuses the concision of Japanese tanka and haiku with very up-to-date explorations of what Pound called moeurs contemporaines: riddling short lyrics laced with humor and a telling irony that makes the reader smile with a shock of recognition. In the spirit of Kenneth Rexroth, with whom he studied in Santa Barbara, Solt's seemingly “simple” free verse is carefully structured. The minimalist poems are placed, one per page, in different spatial positions, with the Japanese translation en face. The volume contains a sprinkle of elegies and occasional poems, but Solt's signature poems are epigrams or aphorisms in the vein of the Zen koan: i held my tongueas if it werea ticketThe pun on the word held and the ticket metaphor can be read quite variously: I said nothing, saving my “ticket” for future gain. Or I “held” my tongue as one holds on to a precious ticket for some form of entrance, perhaps erotic. Indeed, Solt excels at the erotic poem—one that is never directly confessional or even personally expressive but that gives the reader a strong sense of a particular moment, as inice cubes meltin the crackleof your nakednessyou roll down your lace stockingsexposing the same designin tattoo... where it is the imprint the lace leaves on the skin that produces arousal. We never know who the “you” of these poems is, nor does it matter. We only know—in the case of a neighboring poem—that the lovers have “met again / and again / like spinning tops,” until “with centrifugal force / we easily slipped / outside the windows / of our eyes.” Caught up in the moment of ecstasy, they no longer see one another.In this complex and subtle poetry, comparisons come readily, only to be given an ironic twist: the mind is a kitehe thoughtletting goof both stringsAnd things are never quite what they seem: you toasted“happiness to usand confusionto our enemies”and I laughedsecureuntil a cloud formedin my mindWe have all had this experience of group approval only to wonder—the next minute—whether we really agree. Solt's minimalist lyrics not only make us smile: they also make us think. (shrink)

Offering a theory of new media, this book places the recent developments within the history of visual culture of the last few centuries. The reliance on old conventions as well as ideas unique to new media are explored, with particular emphasis on the role of the cinema.

Marjorie Perloff is a distinguished commentator on the literature of this century, best known for her work on Futurism, one of the pre-First War international and inter-art avant garde movements. Radical Artifice takes on the avant garde since 1960, observed from the angle of the institutions of popular culture -- in particular television talk shows, and graphic advertisements. The project of the book is to respond to Charles Bernstein's decree: "There is no natural look or sound to a (...) poem. Every element is intended, chosen. That is what makes a thing a poem" (qtd. 35). "Why, Perloff asks, "is the natural now regarded with such suspicion?" (35). (shrink)