Nets
by Jen Bervin is an erasure of sixty of Shakespeare’s sonnets. The title itself
is an erasure, as it is presented on the title page as
“THE SONNETS OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE”
The collection appears this way as well, with the full
sonnets shadowing Bervin’s product. “Nets,” however, is not simply the second
half of “sonnets.” As W. Scott Howard explains in his review of Nets, Bervin’s practice of “netting…establishes
the importance of the volume’s visual field of signification, which literally
and metaphorically nets the sonnets, lifting the language off
of the page” (Howard).
One of these nets that spoke to me particularly was Bervin’s
take on Shakespeare’s sonnet #13:
O! that
you were yourself; but, love, you are
No longer yours, than you yourself here live:
Against this coming end you should prepare,
And your sweet semblance to some other give:
So should that beauty which you hold in lease
Find no determination; then you were
Yourself again after yourself’s decease,
When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
Which husbandry in honour might uphold,
Against the stormy gusts of winter’s day
And barren rage of death’s eternal cold?
O! none but unthrifts. Dear my love, you know,
You had a father: let your son say so.
No longer yours, than you yourself here live:
Against this coming end you should prepare,
And your sweet semblance to some other give:
So should that beauty which you hold in lease
Find no determination; then you were
Yourself again after yourself’s decease,
When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear.
Who lets so fair a house fall to decay,
Which husbandry in honour might uphold,
Against the stormy gusts of winter’s day
And barren rage of death’s eternal cold?
O! none but unthrifts. Dear my love, you know,
You had a father: let your son say so.
I love this poem. What first struck me was the sentiment of
“yourself again,” finding a sense of self in a poem that doesn’t belong to you
was a pleasant surprise. I also like the personification of “form” in Bervin’s net.
In this entire collection form is at the forefront. Bervin is experimenting
with this new form, with its sense of wonder and searching for a new manner of
expression. This feeling permeates these poems, so to see it articulated in
this way was refreshing in the midst of the jumble of words. Form has an
authority here.
The physical structure of the poem—be it by accident or
not—also lends itself to the sentiment.
It creates a kind of house shape, with “yourself” hovering near the top,
creating a peak, a roof over the rectangular body of the following lines. I
also found “hold”’s direct location over “you” striking—they are the only two
words that line up, and the space between then vibrates. There is a security to their relationship
within the space—“hold” acts as a barrier, protecting “you” from the chaos of
the fallen.
The image of a house also stuck out to me—simple, desolate,
sheltering in the absence of a poetic anchor. But it falls, which evokes the
idea of the poem falling around this net, allowing it to exist.
Though this one was particularly evocative, I didn’t find
all of Bervin’s nets as impressive. For example #137, which—without
Shakespeare’s surrounding sonnet—only reads “anchored.” I had been reading
these poems out of the context of the sonnets, as they stand on their own.
Otherwise, I found Bervin’s work getting lost in Shakespeare’s.
Works Cited
Bervin, Jen. Nets. Ugly Duckling Presse, 2004. Print.
Howard, W. Scott. "'roses no such roses': Jen Bervin's Nets and the Sonnet Tradition from Shakespeare to the Postmoderns." Ugly Duckling Presse, 2004.
<http://www.webdelsol.com/Double_Room/issue_five/Jen_Bervin.html>
<http://www.webdelsol.com/Double_Room/issue_five/Jen_Bervin.html>
I particularly loved this poem as well. Although I didn't initially see the form of the house, I did notice the form of some of the other poems in the collection, and how those forms related to the meanings of the poems. Most of them really seem to be working for openness and space around each word, as if she's begging you to draw a concept map surrounding them, exploring the inter-connectivity of all of the meanings.
ReplyDeleteI find it interesting that you chose not to read them in context of the original sonnets. I found that the easiest way to make sense of them was to explore the way she is twisting Shakespeare's words. She almost never is trying to say the same thing, but she is using his meaning to illuminate a new one. I loved the intertextuality of the work, although I agree that it became difficult at times to see her poems through Shakespeare's. There were a few where she got lost if I didn't set down the book and return to it with fresh eyes looking for the darker ink. I wonder if you would have preferred her to completely white out the original sonnet? How would that have changed meanings for you?
I definitely agree with you on the idea of these "nets" getting lost in Shakespeare's poems—erasure poetry finds its charm in creating newness in what has been established, but certain abstract thoughts are almost too abstract when taken out of context, as you have.
ReplyDeleteOn Jen Bervin's website, you have the ability to mouse over the poems and white out the rest of the sonnets completely, and while some poems still hold up incredibly well, the majority of them become gimmicky at best; more often than not, though, they seem to be empty, meaningless words that no one would have strung together were they not already used previously.
That said, it might be a little unfair to take them completely away from Shakespeare’s sonnets, and I think if we consider content as indelible to the form (with the original sonnets set aside but considered nevertheless) in this case, then the poems are still have substance, though they may be occasionally underwhelming in terms of significance.
You make an astute comment about Bervin's work getting lost in Shakespeare's, Shannon. The works are inextricably intertwined on the page (though not, as Rachel points out, online), and so I think it really isn't possible to read them without losing them a bit in Shakespeare, and that's part of the intention. But you do a nice job of parsing Net 13 out here, and showing some of the ways it can stand on its own.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed reading your interpretation of the poem, and thought that it was very insightful. I agree with your comments on the the formatting styles of Bervin's work. I also thought that it was very interesting to see how important formatting can actually be, as was exemplified in Nets and as you showed in your example of how the fact that "hold" and "you" were lined up on top of one another made a difference in how the words affected the reader. The formatting of that alone was able to convey more than the words themselves could. I think that it is important to remember the power of reappropriation when reading Nets. In this day and age with so many sources available, it is important to not only create your own ideas, but to use the ideas of others and the ways in which they perceive the world, in their works and perceptions, to create new meaning.
ReplyDeleteI thought it was very interesting how you considered the form of the erasure to be important. I had not really considered it before because I thought the form was more a result of the original author's form rather than Bervin's. However, now I see some significance in it. I also did not see a house shape, but thought it was interesting how the words "hold" and "you" form a sort of leg for the poem, if the poem was a table. Then, it is a very unstable structure that could fall with the slightest touch. So, that's significance of the form to me.
ReplyDeleteI definitely read the poem in context of Shakespeare's original sonnet, at first. Of course, I think there is also much value in reading the erasures as separate poems. But, I have trouble finding the right balance between the two. I am always wondering: Does Bervin merely interpret Shakespeare's sonnets through her erasures, in which he leaves only the "nets", or can the work be credited as a work of art on its own?