Category Archives: Universality

From the Moon, together, we can see it…

A Decadent Literary Period

November 15, 2009

All literary periods decline into coteries, with poets and writers attempting to shore up one another. In fact, it’s part of human nature, to herd together, huddle for warmth, comfort, create a department. The weak and cowardly are especially given to this impulse. While it increases what passes with many for survival, those who go out of the cave in pursuit of the Real are the ones who slay the Beast, ultimately providing provender for the fearful and vulnerable.

That is what all the great poets and writers did. Rabelais and Cervantes, Melville and Robert Frost, many others, into their heart and soul, not some contemptible university or creative writing program and the subsidies that keep their seemingly hegemonic dominance afloat.

I first subscribed to Poets & Writers when it was the earliest incarnation of a newsletter, the name of which escapes me now, in the 1970s. It was evident even then, to me, that a coterie was forming, analogous to so many, as with the Provencal poets, Japanese literature from time to time, and elsewhere. That it has become the rapacious monster that it has is no surprise, known to all, who are discerning. I have thought for decades that there is only one way to slay it. The test and ordeal of the spirit that the greatest writers have always had to face and go through. That of writing the book that overturns the entire prevailing outlook, as Cervantes did with all the cloying works of chivalry. In other words, it must be earned through perseverance (Johnson on Shakespeare), diligence, independent study, confronting the darkness in one’s own soul and time, and the blessings of the Muse.

Nothing could be more contrary to the cynical, contemptible university system of patronage and extortion of public funds, by poetry bureaucrats, which passes for literature today. All the more reason that the lone, solitary writer, dedicated to the literary tradition of what is the most noble and true in human nature, seeking the truth, not tenure, service, not the approval of parasites, can, as Saul Bellow phrased it once, bury them, and reorient aright the great ship of literature.

Frederick Glaysher

Original post, comment #3, Scarriet, TENETS of FAITH: Being Right on the AWP, BAP, P&W, AoAP and even the PFoA

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Michigan from a Great Height

Michigan

Michigan from a Great Height

Michigan from a Great Height

March 31, 2011

I was climbing with someone up a great hill that became nearly a mountain. It was a beautiful Michigan day, in the afternoon, as we walked through green and open spaces, rising above the trees and forest. I sensed I was in the Upper Peninsula or the northern part of the lower peninsula, looking south.

I reached and stood on a very high hillock at the top of the gentle, sloping mountain, overlooking the land, my companion standing below. All was spread out before me, beautiful and green, blue lakes scattered in the countryside of Michigan.

I awoke recalling that I have had this dream before, perhaps many times, recognizing it as so. It was a very pleasant dream. I felt happy and content, as I was led up toward the top of the rising land. The import was that my guide was showing me something of great moment and beauty, and there it was, spread out and lying below. A glorious land as far as I could see.

Frederick Glaysher

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Maternal Haplogroup T2f1

The Sorcerer, Les Trois Freres, 13,000 BCE

Maternal Haplogroup T2f1

March 3, 2011

What does 45,000 years of mitochondrial DNA mean? It ought to mean something beyond the shock and awe it inspires in me, not that I imagine I’m unique. What human being doesn’t have 45,000 years of genome? It’s merely I have scientific proof of it now staring me in the face, not an abstraction, linking me to human beings in today’s Middle East, who had migrated out of Africa, with my T2 sub-mutation at less than 33,000 BCE, some taking the T marker into Pakistan and India, back into Eastern Africa, and then into the Basque region at about 15,000 BCE, with the retreating of the glaciers.

I had learned last year when my son had had his genome tested that our paternal line has a mutation reaching back 20,000 years BCE to the Franco-Cantabrian region of Spain and France, inspiring me to test my own genome separately, now dating it at about 17,000 BCE. I’ve always known my mother’s ancestry extended from Croatia and Germany, but incredibly her lineage must have had a connection as well to the area of the ancient caves.

Mitochondrial Eve. Ancestor shamans stare out at me.

Paternal Haplogroup R1b1b2a1a2

Frederick Glaysher

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Borges. A Signature.

Borges. A Signature.

Borges. A Signature. June 8, 2010.

Life becomes a Borges story. For a few months I’ve been reading and writing about Jorge Luis Borges. This afternoon, tidying up my study, I stumbled upon a used paperback copy of Borges On Writing, 1973, which I bought in Ann Arbor, Michigan, during the winter, and sat down to read it. His signature is on the title page! It looks a lot like this one online for $31,000! 

Surreal, South American magic fiction kind-of-thing… Of the couple of thousand books I have, I’ve never found any other signed copies… of the thousands of books I’ve read from libraries during my life I’ve never stumbled onto a signed copy… and then to find the only one that is signed by someone I’ve been thinking and writing about for months is strange. I like to think I’m largely a rational person, realizing it’s merely coincidence, but it’s still surreal, given all his surreal, bizarre stories and poems…

Here’s another sample Borges signature, for an incredible $18,000.

The same flourishes of the “g,” capital “B,” and his characteristic upside down “T” at the end. What does that signify? Some transcendent symbol? A mystic alef of his mind? A shakiness in the cramped hand, blindly struggling to sign the book held in the air, held inches from the eye, the way Bob used to? Another blind master…

Why do writers and artists always have to die before their work starts fetching these kinds of prices? Some crude, bourgeois calculation involved.

I’ve scanned it in. Somebody tell me I’m wrong!

After the 1973 publication of  Borges On Writing, he was at Michigan State University twice, in 1975 and 1976, the latter for a full semester, during which he spoke or read at other colleges in Michigan. It’s doubtful that the opportunity wouldn’t have arisen for Borges to read at the University of Michigan, my alma mater, and the major, international university of the state, in Ann Arbor. A student or faculty member, working his or her way up the line, for his signature, a signed copy, unknown to his family or heirs, forgotten, dumped into one of Ann Arbor’s many used book shops, for a few bucks… or a student, as poor as I was once, needing a meal… 

“Uncanny,” as a Facebook friend has said. The word surreal keeps swirling around in my head… For some reason, Borges’ story “The Approach to Al-Mu’tasim” has also kept coming to mind, since my discovery, his search for Attar’s Simurgh, which all connects intimately with a poem I’ve been writing.

There are times when the intuition can surpass and lead aright the rational mind. Perhaps a fellow writer can help us more than we are able to understand, reach out even from across the grave… how non-modern, how contrary to our quotidian, rational assumptions, modernity’s cliches and distortions, petty pieties.

Through the mirror, through the mirror, to the next continent, somehow, through the mirror…

Frederick Glaysher

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