Anne Carson’s Nox is
truly a work of artistic genius. Published as a response to her brother’s death
more than a translation of Catullus’ poems, Carson manages to bring together
two elements—an academic/artistic piece and a personal/emotional influence—to create
something entirely different from what both individual sections mean by
themselves.
What I found most interesting about Nox was that it’s not explicitly writing. It is the piecing together of a number of elements,
incorporating visual artistry just as much as actual words on a page, and in
that craft, creating what I believe is not necessarily a poem, but poetry. In a
case like this, a distinction must be made—a poem, I think, can be clearly
classified as such. It has a structure (even if that structure is freeform and
exploratory) and it is intentionally created as a poem. While Nox incorporates poetry, I feel as
though as a cohesive work, it is neither a collection of poems nor is it a poem
in and of itself. However, its essence is poetic.
What separates this book from feeling like a scrapbook or
something without emotional value to the world at large is that it has been
crafted very deliberately: Carson could have written a straight poem about her
brother, or she could have collected everything about her brother and published
it as something without direct artistic merit, but she chose to make a project
out of it—though little actual writing went into this in that we can’t see
Carson’s words trying the entire story together, it is her effort and direction
that makes this such a profoundly moving piece.
I think there’s a lot to take from this kind of style—I won’t
go out of my way to completely remove my own words from my piece, but Carson
has managed to tie two unrelated topics with her own sentiments and make it
coherent and valuable, and that is
incredibly impressive to me.
I definitely agree with you Rachel in that Carson's Nox is truly fascinating. To think of all the effort that went into crafting such an amalgamation of the two elements you mentioned! Sam Anderson's article on Carson, "The Inscrutable Brilliance of Anne Carson," also marvels at Carson's unique style by stating: "her work has moved — phrase by phrase, line by line, project by improbable project — in directions that a human brain would never naturally move," which is undeniably true. Like you said, Carson could have gone for the traditional poem.
ReplyDeleteI find it interesting that you seem to side with what Anderson referred to as critics in his article, in that you seemed to find Carson's work as "something less than poetry." I'm not saying that you belittled her work in any way, but you came through as unsatisfied with her "little actual writing" and "remov[ing] words from [her] own piece." Though I too share the uncertainty most people feel about what to label Carson's work, I would actually attribute Nox's simplicity to the minimalistic style of the writer herself. And let's not forget that she actually has pictures in her book (you know, a picture's worth a thousand words and all that). I think it's something to keep in mind.
I definitely agree that it isn’t its writing which sets Nox apart from every other poetry book, it’s the format. Carson doesn’t stick to a formal writing style. Instead she uses a series of pictures, exerts from poems, and scraps books which make it seem more like reading someone’s diary than a book of poetry, any type of book for that matter. The “book” comes in a box and closely resembles an accordion.
ReplyDeleteI also agree that the book is very special because of its pacing. While Carson could’ve written a poem about her brother, the format makes her journey to find out more about her estranged brother more epic. With every page, we learn something new that adds to our understanding of the relationship. The structure also allows Carson to add details in the beginning that she is able to bring back around full circle towards the end once new information has surfaced.