The Shakespeare Conference: SHK 15.1260 Monday, 14 June 2004
[1] From: Graham Hall <This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.>
Date: Saturday, 12 Jun 2004 17:57:17 +0000
Subj: Seeing Is Hearing
[2] From: Rolland Banker <This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.>
Date: Sunday, 13 Jun 2004 18:03:17 -0700 (PDT)
Subj: Re: SHK 15.1236 Shifting of Cultural Tectonic Plates
[1]-----------------------------------------------------------------
From: Graham Hall <This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.>
Date: Saturday, 12 Jun 2004 17:57:17 +0000
Subject: Seeing Is Hearing
Re: 15.1151 redivivus
Nicholas Robins (Around the Globe, Issue 27) suggests that "there is no
more literary moment in Hamlet than the description of Ophelia's death"
and cites Lukas Erne's remarks on the subject.
Perhaps there is a central ground for these literary/textual matters as
suggested by Hemmings and Condell telling us to read him again and again
and Jonson's later explanation of his blotted lines remarks.
[2]-------------------------------------------------------------
From: Rolland Banker <This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.>
Date: Sunday, 13 Jun 2004 18:03:17 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: 15.1236 Shifting of Cultural Tectonic Plates
Comment: Re: SHK 15.1236 Shifting of Cultural Tectonic Plates
Make that the shifting of the Cultural PYRO-TECTONIC Plates for which
perhaps only another poem can answer the unanswerable:
>>I have a question:
>>if history is the study of the present, is it
>>possible for there to
>>be a
>>study of the present that is not history?
>A glib answer would be, repetitive science;
Therefore, I say, the best answer is a poem (which encompasses all as
res, yet may be nothing nor a real history ):
"The flames sawed in the wind and the embers paled and deepened and
paled and deepened like the bloodbeat of some living thing eviscerate
upon the ground before them and they watched the fire which does contain
within it something of men themselves inasmuch as they are less without
it and are divided from their origins and are exiles. For each fire is
all fires, the first fire and the last ever to be...."
BLOOD MERIDIAN, Cormac McCarthy
AND
SONNET 144 WS
"Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out."
AND SO
AS CALIBAN
"...They'll nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark
out of my way..."
Die kunst is lang Und kurz is unsere leben
Und so weiter....
Rolland Banker
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