We have read many different texts and types of texts this year. We are only halfway through. Look at this article, Meaning in Nonsense. Read what is being said about nonsense and how we read and how we write. Once you have done this, think about sound and how sound affects you when you read a piece of poetry.In your post, I want you to pull out one part of this article that resonates with you and explain why it speaks to you. Once you have done that, I want you to explain how one piece we have read this year, either poetry or prose, has impacted you through sound, nonsense, or some other means. Think about what is said in this article. Do you feel the same way?
“”There’s a question of what master are you serving when you write something. If you want to tell someone that they have to go unplug the toilet, that's a very specific sentiment: Go, and unplug the toilet. It can succeed, or not. But what if the master you want to serve is to somehow communicate the entirety of your experience of Anglo-Saxon poetry, in a single poem? That’s when something like nonsense comes into its own. The wonder of it is not that it makes something out of nothing, or that it is without sense—but actually that it’s exploding with sense. It's not for when you have nothing to say, but when you have many things to say at once.”
ReplyDeleteThis paragraph in the blog resonated with me. Art, in and of itself, is meant to convey something from the creator to the consumer, and evoke something in the individual consumer themselves. Yet, at its core, it does not intend to simply do just this - it intends to do so beautifully, in a way no one has done before, and in a way that is unique and celebrates the ability to create something beautiful in and of itself. “It’s not for when you have nothing to say, but when you have many things to say at once.” So much of the human experience can be captured in words, but so much cannot. The most subtle and evocative of emotions, feelings, nuances in expression and interpretation, are not always able to be articulated. Thus, through nonsense - through sound, music, the creative capabilities of the mind enjoying the work - these can at least attempt to be conveyed. And, more often than not, it is through nonsense that even more pleasure and even more of an appreciation for the art can be found, for it is through that which does not make sense that we continue to live and work and explore for knowledge that eludes us.
“Waiting for Godot”, to me, seemed extraordinarily pointless. The class spent weeks on end analyzing the work, and I felt like a lot of it was to little avail. The most important thing, in my mind, to understand about the work was that it did not necessarily need to be understood to be appreciated. As we discussed when reflecting on our speeches regarding gender in art, many pieces deliver subconscious messages to the consumer despite the possibility of not meaning to do so. Yet I truly do believe that, if the consumer of artwork does not prescribe a specific meaning or analyze a piece of artwork to the point that scrutiny becomes asinine, it can still elicit extraordinary effects. In my opinion, as in “Waiting for Godot”, simply reading the play aloud and acknowledging its abstract nature can be enough. It can be sufficient for the sounds, the ideas, the words themselves to stand alone and refuse a deeper interpretation. The emotions evoked and subtleties aroused can still be powerful without delving deeper or ascribing something profound. For me, that was the most impactful analysis of “Waiting for Godot”: not having any at all.
“There’s a misunderstanding about what nonsensical things are—the idea that they're just funny, and that's the beginning and the end of it. Nonsense is not “not sense”—it operates at the edge of sense. It teems with sense—at the same time, it resists any kind of universal understanding.”
ReplyDeleteThis portion of the article resonated with me because I now have a deeper understanding of the usage of nonsense in poetry. It is often easy to dismiss nonsensical language as having no substance, or as writing meant for children. However, there is actually meaning behind the sounds, language, and writing style of nonsensical poetry. For example, as the author points out, nonsense writing can be used when you have a lot to say, but not enough space to convey it in. It can also be used to create sounds that are unique and resonate with the reader. This audible pleasure is then something that can be shared with others. It is important not to overlook nonsensical writing, but rather to dig deeper and to analyze how the words are pronounced, the flow of the piece, and where the line between sense and nonsense is drawn. I will now look at work by Lewis Carroll, and even Dr. Seuss, to see what I can gain from the seemingly nonsensical text. Maybe I will learn about a large topic or theme, or how I can make my own writing flow and have a pleasurable sound to my readers.
When thinking about seemingly nonsensical pieces from this year, “Waiting for Godot” immediately comes to mind. As I began the novel, I found no purpose in the plot and was frustrated at the lack of action taken by the characters. I think this was Beckett’s intention. Some may analyze the story superficially and take nothing from it, and others will deeply study the work to discover meaning. After the class delved further into the novel, the themes of consciousness, suffering, religion, and friendship became apparent. All artists create art for a purpose, regardless if the audience finds it nonsensical or full of meaning.
“The crucial thing in any work of any kind is that it must be a gift—the reader must possess it even more than the person who wrote it. … You should have no fear you have made an error. It's your poem, that’s the important thing.”
ReplyDeleteThe sentiment expressed in Jesse Ball’s article is one of logic and love, the author obviously feels very sincerely about the subject at hand, especially considering it’s his father’s poem about coming home to him. However, while he uses “Jabberwocky” as his vehicle for expression of his intended message, and as he seeks to make an important point about nonsense and its function in expression, I found that the motif that stuck with me most was that above, “It’s your poem, that’s the important thing”. Before one can even hope to understand a nonsensical poem such as “Jabberwocky”, they must accept that their perception of the poem is valid, that regardless of the author’s intent the poem belongs to them. I’ve seen this throughout all of my language arts courses, a sort of hesitation, a fear of being wrong riddles my peers. With art of all kinds, your perception is your own and is as true as you believe it to be. Of course, providing evidence from the medium to help others follow your train of thought is essential for discussion, but it all begins with the individual’s experience and interpretation of the art.
Godot used a lot of nonsensical things that left the interpretation up to the reader, which was really quite exceptional and has stuck with me since. When I find myself waiting for an object, waiting for someone’s attention, waiting for an emotion, I remember Godot and decide to walk off stage and get after whatever it is I’m waiting for, or abandon it entirely and redirect my attention.
The article is pretty neat, Jesse Ball makes a fair argument and does so with fluent readability. I could find few things I disagreed with, therefore Ball gets the go-ahead from me.
“That’s when something like nonsense comes into its own. The wonder of it is not that it makes something out of nothing, or that it is without sense—but actually that it’s exploding with sense. It's not for when you have nothing to say, but when you have many things to say at once.”
ReplyDeleteThis section of Ball’s article resonated with me. Nonsense is overlooked often when reading. It can be distracting, or completely change a story or poem. For nonsense to “explode with sense” allows authors to create meaning without words, but with sound. Sound creates the emotions and understanding that reading leaves out. It helps people to image a setting, a character’s action, or the resonance of art.
As for sound and nonsense, I look to “A Clockwork Orange”. I agree with what the article says. Burgess creates a resonance and a common ground by saying, “What’s it going to be, ehh?” This phrase opens up the parts for anything to happen. The altered wording throughout the novel creates strange pronunciation and word order. However, the basis of the novel is revealed. Alex is literally a “clockworked man”, he lives life doing the same routine over and over, seen in his revival after the Ludovico Technique. He conforms to society’s accepted belief of how mankind should behave. By doing so, the government takes away the one object that makes Alex Alex: his passion for music. Burgess uses music, especially that of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, as his means of justifying Alex’s obscene and vulgar acts. He does them out of empowerment and confidence, and ignores fear. The art of Alex’s acts justifies the sense that nonsense looks to create.
In this article, How Writers Can Find Meaning in Nonsense, Jesse Ball expressed the idea that writing is not meant to be perfect. This idea that writing is meant to be imperfect resonated with me, probably because it goes against what I have always been taught in school. Year after year I have walked into Language Arts classes that have conveyed in every piece written you need the perfect intro, followed by perfectly clear and rich body paragraphs, or a poem with the perfect amount of lines, rhymes, and beats; for I have been told that it is through this perfect form that my purpose and ideas are best delivered to the readers. Yet, Ball makes the claim that imperfect writing gets ideas across to the reader best, because the moments of imperfection mesh with the moments of perfection, and ultimately “causes the explosion that’s necessary in the mind”.
ReplyDeleteThe novel “Waiting for Godot” was probably the most nonsensical piece that has been read in this class so far. With no apparent plot, few characters, and no details as to the setting, Godot seemed to be a relatively pointless story, if there is such a thing. Yet, once the class started looking deeper into the dialogue and began to really analyze Beckett's work, meaning began to rise to the surface. I was amazed at how much Beckett put into the book - regarding religion, mythology, existentialism, etc. - and how much meaning lay underneath the words despite its nonsensical facade. This goes along with the idea that nonsensical things are not truly nonsensical (as expressed in the article How Writers Can Find Meaning in Nonsense), but are rather teeming with sense; and to understand that sense, readers must put forth the time and effort to discover the meaning that the artist was trying to put into that piece.
“It’s possible to create page after page of beautiful perfect-looking prose that is kind of tepid. It’s hard to say anything against it because it all figures out perfectly. You look through it, and it’s all there, it’s all correct, whatever. But something that is ragged and strange-looking… causes the explosion that’s necessary in the mind… A poem, if thrown at a pane of glass, should break the glass.”
ReplyDeleteThis describes what’s wrong with writing. Not everyone’s writing, not all of any one person’s writing, and not just others’ writing – but my writing, as well.
Writing is not a study of logic. No piece of writing should force the reader into analysis and puzzle-solving simply to decipher its meaning. No piece of writing should be so unfocused and saturated and repetitive (like this response) that the reader cannot receive a strong impact upon initial glance. Unfortunately many writers fall into this trap. They either fail to use clear, linear logic, or, succeeding that, fail to immerse the reader with imaginative thinking.
Of course, this very response is committing that last crime, at least. I’m currently hitting below the intellect, using brute reason, with no color, no interesting feelings, no references, no thoughts swimming up in my head, nothing – I’m failing to create the illusion that the reader is thinking the writing. Perhaps the only good thing about this response is that instead of explaining how the article resonates with me, I’m allowing you to witness it yourself. But you probably wouldn’t even consider this good writing form because we’re not supposed to assume the reader doesn’t require explanation for how the evidence ties to the prompt. I wonder if throwing this response would break a pane of glass. Probably not.
As for a piece of nonsense we’ve done this year – well, I really don’t understand how “Jabberywocky” is considered nonsense. It has a distinct, reasonable plot and popping imagery. Sure, it’s a bit silly and cheesy, and it throws around adjectives we don’t understand, but it makes sense on the overall, right?
Since I don’t understand what other people consider to be nonsense, I’ll just take this passage from Notes from Underground and call it nonsense:
“How many times has it happened to me – well, for instance, to take offence simply on purpose, for nothing; and one knows oneself, of course, that one is offended at nothing; that one is putting it on, but yet one brings oneself at last to the point of being really offended.”
It’s nonsense! How do you get offended simply by pretending you’re offended? Oh wait. That makes sense.
This passage reinforced two thoughts: oftentimes to make a point, the example must be exaggerated beyond reason; and there’s no difference between an emotion brought up through “fake” stimulation and the same emotion brought up through “real” stimulation. It still ends up making you feel the same way – and isn’t that all that matters? By pretending to feel indignant you’re forcing so much indignation on yourself that you really are suffering from indignation! What seemed like nonsense before now makes sense – sure, it’s sense to its limit, but it’s still sense.
(continued -
- continued) Here’s another example:
ReplyDelete“Every primary cause at once draws after itself another still more primary, and so on to infinity.” (Dostoevsky 1.5.1)
At first, I thought that this was nonsense. One would eventually hit a hard wall, right? As one continues to think of more and more primary reasons, one would eventually hit a hard wall at, say, the purpose of all matter/existence. But then I realized this made perfect sense! This is like Mrs. Perrin telling us to write about why it matters – and as we think about why it matters, and why it matters that it matters, and why that matters, and why it matters that that matters, and so on to infinity, we never know when we’re allowed to conclude that something matters solely for the sake of mattering and we can stop!
This “primary cause” seemed like nonsense; but it ended up as just a stretch of sense to its limit. Just as the article details.
When I’m thinking about sound in pieces of literature, two things come to mind. The first is background music that is sometimes played during movies and other media. This music matches up with the words, and we associate them together. Such as quick tempo music symbolizes a chase, we imagine that chase when we hear the music. The other way is how words sound when someone reads them. I don’t think that someone can read a piece of literature without putting their own spin on it.
ReplyDelete“I think when I’m writing in the first place, when I really get going, I’m murmuring what I’m writing in a half-breath as I’m working. It’s probably embarrassing if I’m in some public place, sitting there ranting to myself.”
This quote resonated with me because I do exactly the same thing. When writing or most times reading, I always speak out loud. When I’m writing, I always think about saying the work out loud. That is the only way it makes sense to me. Even when I’m reading something, I always say it in my head. The first thing is that it helps me focus, the other thing is that I am able to understand the work better. Such as the speech we read this year from the veteran accepting his award. I knew it was a speech so I imagined how it would have sounded out loud. It was like I was giving the speech- I put in my interpretation. When I read a sentence that I didn’t understand, I would read it over in a different way, as if infection would make a difference, but it did. I always catch myself hearing my voice in my head- it’s not as creepy as it sounds. It makes a lot of difference. If I try to read without hearing it, I don't understand a word I’m reading. My mind is extremely visual. Words are only a part of reading, to truly read something, I have to immerse myself in the story. I have to connect to characters, scenes, etc. Sound is what hold the brain together when reading, it tells you the story.
I definitely agree with this article. I think that ranting to myself while reading or writing is the only way to keep your mind and the story together. I mean, even when writing this, I keep reading it to myself. The quote above holds true with me, it is part of the reason I have so much trouble writing when it’s not quiet or I’m distracted. It disconnects me and my thoughts.
The sounds and inner voice heard when reading is ever present and that personal interpretation and inner creation effects the final result of reading. I would agree with Bell when he says that an author and a reader create some "Third thing, which is completely unknowable". For me, the most impact part of a text is silence, rather than sounds and nonsense. The silent tension and accents within literature and film that break through the ruckus of the plot and conflict often carry a greater meaning than the noise. When the bombastic imagery and sensory input stops and the the protagonists simply sits down, we as readers develop a personal intercommunication through them. I would argue that I am more impacted science than anything else. Waiting for Godot is an interesting example. When the day ends or when situations become exasperated for our two protagonists, they will often stand in silence or not move and do nothing. This nothing, this void of information allows for impact. It creates a void in the text as well as the reads mind which, when done properly, creates that "third thing" that rushes in the mind to fill the void. In these times of silence and pondering I find the emotional impact and connection to the characters is more profound than ever. What's more familiar and relatable than the silent contemplation of a predicament?
ReplyDeleteStories resonate with me. Whether they are long or short, sensical or nonsensical, stories stick with me more than anything else. As a result, Jesse Bell’s story of his Dad coming home from work every day resonated with me. When I was young, my sister and I would also celebrate my dad coming home every day, running to greet him at the door. The fact that every day Bell’s father would say, “And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy!” is so powerful. This not only makes Bell feel like a hero, but it also alludes to one of the most famous works of nonsensical poetry, “Jabberwocky” by Lewis Caroll. “Jabberwocky” has also been a part of my life for a long time. I was first introduced to the poem during Baldwin Wallace’s Triple Threat workshops. We performed this poem, creating sense out of the nonsensical, and creating an amazing product. No one had to ask what the words meant. I have a feeling they meant something different to each of us. When we put all of these meanings together, it was beautiful. I had further experience with the poem when Brunswick High School put on the play version of “Jabberwocky” last year. I played the Jubjub bird, a colorful creature who, along with the Jabberwocky and the Bandersnatch, terrorized a town and the people in it. This was put on as a Children’s show, so we travelled in our colorful costumes to all of the elementary schools in Brunswick to display our work. Although some of the words seemed like nonsense, I have no doubt that each of the kids who viewed the play made sense of it, and hopefully enjoyed seeing the colorful fairy tale brought to life.
ReplyDeleteAnother work that has great meaning to me now but was nonsensical at first is A Clockwork Orange by Anthony Burgess. When I first starting reading the novel it was hard, the nadsat language seemed unnecessary, and decreased my understanding of the novel. However, as I continued reading I found myself making sense out of the nonsense. The nadsat language helped me to feel like I was truly a part of the story, truly living alongside Alex and speaking as one of his friends. Although the world in the novel seemed a lot different than the world I live in at first, I soon realized that the commentary on right and wrong was applicable to all aspects of life. The nonsense has also impacted me in the way that I analyze things. It has helped me realize that there is purpose to be found in everything, it just has to be looked for.
I completely agree with what the article is saying. Especially when it comes to the phrase, “A poem, if thrown at a pane of glass, should break the glass.” A piece of literary work should be powerful, and a lot of this power comes from the interpretation of readers. It’s easy to follow a formula and write a cookie-cutter piece of writing. It’s much harder to test creative boundaries and test readers to find their own understanding. The best works are the ones that are risky, the ones that don’t make any sense, and they are absolutely necessary in our world.
Jesse Ball states:
ReplyDelete“When I was a child, my father would read out loud to my brother, my mother, and me. Several times in the course of my childhood, he would read Alice and Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass over a few weeks. They were a great favorite with all of us.”
When I was a child, my father would read out loud to my brother and me. We mostly read folktales, especially stories about Anansi. I guess this part of the article “resonates” with me because of the parallels between our respective childhood relationships with our fathers.
Superficially, “Waiting for Godot” doesn’t seem to make much sense; the characters seem to have no meaningful dialogue (in fact one character, Lucky, spouts off a monologue seemingly composed of random words), and new developments occur without rhyme or reason. The play only holds meaning when examined in the context of existentialism, religion, or some other light. It’s similar to how Jesse Ball states that “Nonsense is not “not sense”—it operates at the edge of sense. It teems with sense—at the same time, it resists any kind of universal understanding”. As much as “Waiting for Godot” doesn’t seem to make sense standing alone, it does imply some meaningful commentary when applied to real-world interactions.
I don’t know if I understand what Jesse Ball is saying about nonsense well enough to be able to say whether I agree or disagree.
Nonsense is a way to communicate in reading, writing, or even speaking, and not in a ridiculous way as the word “nonsense” would lead you to believe. According to the article when reading or writing nonsense, it connects with a reader/writer’s mind in a specific and unique way, stating that “The poem’s construction allows you to be sent somewhere along the vector of “Jabberwocky,” though no one but you can say just where.” A piece of prose or poetry written in a nonsensical way makes sense in different ways to different people.
ReplyDeleteA point made in the article is that “to use sounds that are passed down… This is an excellent use of the poem.” I’m currently reading a book of poetry entitled “Aloud: Voices from the Nuyorican Poets Cafe” and several of the poems I have read so far have incorporated sound devices. One of the poems, “At Ease” uses phrases such as “hut-hop-hep who” and “boom shaka laka.” These sound devices in this poem created rhythm. As I read the poem, all of the words felt syncopated and fell into a uniform rhythm with each other, and the sound phrases helped stimulate that rhythm. I could feel the pulse of the poem as I read it. An instance of nonsense in my AP Lit experience has been while reading A Clockwork Orange. The use of NADSAT sounded bizarre to me, and did the opposite of sound devices in poetry I have read: it didn’t help me connect to the book more. In fact, I felt disconnected to the world of Alex as the words he said didn’t fully resonate with me as his language was new and strange to me. I find that the use of sound devices in poetry help me to connect tho the writing more than sound devices in prose do.
“The crucial thing in any work of any kind is that it must be a gift—the reader must possess it even more than the person who wrote it. It must be given completely.”
ReplyDeleteThis part resonates with me the most because it describes the purpose of art to be a gift from the creator to the audience. The author of this article points out that when creating a piece of art, the audience must gain more from the work than the person that created it. This part stood out the most to me because of the discussion in class we were having about the responsibility of the artist. Although we discussed that the artist does not have a responsibility to anyone but himself/herself, I find this idea hard to agree with because a published artist has to find some way to connect and build a relationship with an audience. Without connecting and building a relationship with an audience, a book is just a book, a painting is just a painting, a poem is just a poem- it is not art. Personally, I believe that in order to classify literature or a painting as “art,” it has to have meaning to the viewer. If you Google the definition of “art,” it is defined as: the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power. Thus, the artist does in fact have a responsibility to the viewer of his/her work because a piece the definition of art ends by stating that the piece of work is produced to be appreciated for its beauty or emotional power.
“Waiting for Godot” is one of the greatest examples of a nonsensical piece of literature. There were many parts in Beckett’s play, such as Lucky’s lengthy speech, that did not make sense to me when I first read them. It took a lot analyzing for me to understand Beckett’s purpose and message of “Waiting for Godot” but when I finally understood, I realized how genius and unique the play really was. The article “Meaning in Nonsense” and the example of “Waiting for Godot” deepen my understanding of nonsensical pieces of art and has made me realize that even pieces of art that appear to be pointless and nonsensical still have meaning that is just deeper and not as direct.
“You should have no fear you have made an error. It's your poem, that’s the important thing
ReplyDeleteIn Ball’s article, Meaning in Nonsense, this line resonated with me. In writing, in class discussions, and in speeches or presentations, I always seem to become more quiet and to myself in fear of what people are going to think about my thoughts and ideas. Although knowing that nobody's going to read my work and knowing that i should not care what others think, that fear is still there. Ball’s piece, especially this line, reminds me that it’s my writing, my thoughts, my literature and that that is the important thing. One piece that we discussed in class that impacted me was Stephen King’, On Writing. It was not a story and it was not poetic, however King’s way of writing and explaining what writing is impacted my look on writing. One part of the book that stood out to me was the quote, “Writing is not life, but I think that sometimes it can be a way back to life”. I love to write in my free time and I with that I had more time now to do so, but i remember writing a lot in middle school. Middle school was a weird time for me and there was a lot going on in my life at the time and writing helped me become the Katie I am today. Although I do not have much time to write anymore, that part in my life when I did write helped me and shaped me.
Nonsense, when done well, can further the impact of a work more than clearly stating everything does. Carroll's "Jabberwocky" is an excellent example of a work that walks the line between sense and nonsense and guides the reader to see what Carroll wants them to see. "Nonsense is not "not sense" - it operates at the edge of sense." This line spoke to me because when I first read something and do not immediately understand, I feel the need to figure out definitively what is being said. Works that involve nonsense cannot always be pinpointed, however. This is where the beauty of the work is held. There is a communication between the author and the reader exclusive to nonsense. In a piece that is nonsensical, the author can point the reader in the direction of their story, but it is up to the readers to complete the journey. If 100 people heard the word "Jabberwocky," each person would picture something different. This is the magic of nonsense in a work as each interpretation is unique to the reader.
ReplyDeleteBeckett's "Waiting for Godot" utilizes nonsense in a way that differs from "Jabberwocky." When we first began discussing it in class, I hated it because I could not make sense of what was happening and my picture did not match my classmates' pictures. As we continued to discuss and dive further into the meaning of the play, I began to appreciate the nonsense and in accepting the nonsense I found that it did make sense. I bought into the nonsense and therefore I got something back from the analysis of the play. "The crucial thing in any work of any kind is that it must be a gift - the reader must possess it even more than the person who wrote it." Those who read "Waiting for Godot" but did not possess it and look for meaning in the absence of sense, got little out of it and most likely thought it was a waste of time. Their refusal to accept things that are not concrete effectively shut down the conversation between Beckett and the reader. I agree with what is said in the article because I believe that what a reader puts into a work, they will get out of it. If a reader refuses to look deeper into a work because it contains nonsense, they are refusing to be a part of the conversation and they are missing out on everything the author is trying to communicate to them. Although the nonsense can be confusing or indefinite, the freedom of imagining what is being described is an experience unique to nonsensical works.
I too wrote about Godot. Pretty neat play.
Delete“Many times, when someone writes something, they hope for some precision of communication—they want to provide some precise statement that exists in one mind, and make it exist in your mind. But I think Carroll’s understanding of communication was more interesting than that. He understands that the text that you create is an object that collides with the mind with the reader—and that some third thing, which is completely unknowable, is made.”
ReplyDeleteI would say this part of Jesse Ball’s piece had the greatest impact on me, because, like nonsense, the interpretation of a work of literature can yield several different meanings. While not all writings contain nonsense, all writings do contain a sense a sense of subjectivity. Ball values and understands a reader's right to interpret a piece of writing, nonsense especially, that differs from the intention of the author. Two separate factors, the text and the mind of the reader come to create a new, ‘unknowable’ thing. Essentially, a unique and completely original connection between the author and reader is formed.
Going against the tide (instead of talking about ‘Waiting for Godot’), I found Notes from the Underground, to be made up of nonsense and rambling. Class opinion of the book itself was up in the air. Some students found the book's message to be an important work of existentialist literature still relevant in modern society. While others believed that Dostoevsky's writing style to muddled to view any message he is trying to send. What accounts for this difference is simple; some were able to connect with Dostoevsky’s Jabberwocky while others were not.
“I think when I’m writing in the first place, when I really get going, I’m murmuring what I’m writing in a half-breath as I’m working. It’s probably embarrassing if I’m in some public place, sitting there ranting to myself. (Usually I try to sit far enough away from other people.) They say that after you write a work, and finally look at it, you can’t tell what’s there any more. How can you actually see the work in order to judge it? One way is to read it out loud—to somebody who you’re a little afraid of, whose opinion matters to you. When you read it aloud, there are parts you might skip over—you find yourself not wanting to speak them. Those are the weak parts. It’s hard to find them otherwise, just reading along. But you can judge the work more clearly when you hear and feel its sound.”
ReplyDeleteWhen I write, I tend to follow the same process that Jesse Ball describes here, in which I speak what I’m writing as I’m writing it. I have such a had time starting an assignment or poem because every time I try to begin and hear the words I would write, they don’t match what I’m envisioning for the piece or they sound artificial. Eventually I drag myself through and write a sentence, even if it makes me cringe as I write it (better to have something rather than nothing, right?). I empathized with Ball as he talked about the futility of trying to judge your own work. Reading it, I remember what I struggled through and what I felt proud of, so it’s difficult to be objective and look at the piece as a whole, or even edit certain parts. I laughed at his advice to read it aloud to “somebody who you’re a little afraid of, whose opinion matters to you”.
From “Kettle Bottom”, the poem “Samson” really stuck with me (I suppose that’s why I jumped right at it when I saw it was on our exam). Reading through the poem, I thought it was simply another complaint by one of the characters regarding their situation in the mining town. Closer reading and reading aloud revealed the sound and symbolism behind the piece. I looked at it from the Boss’s point of view, the person who Samson was speaking to. As Ball put it “The effect is the crucial thing. That’s the approach I try to take: not to be vain with the success of the writing as writing, but rather its effect.” And in this poem, the effect was the Company not caring whatsoever about the miners and the others in the mining town. All Samson wanted was to be an individual, tell his Boss his name even though he never asked for it, and only through rebellion could he do so, as the Boss only ever saw him as a miner, abundant and easily replaceable.
‘Nonsense operates at the edge of sense’. This particular design from the article resonated with me in such a pleasant and tickly way because of it’s Suess-esque essence and the overall tone of youth that it gave. What I thought about automatically was the marvel of baby talk, and how the babble seems senseless to adult ears, but is ultimately so beautiful. I babysat last Tuesday for teacher conferences and, as usual, fell in love with yet another little baby, 21 month old Nellie. Her coos and babble obviously weren’t fully formed, but the nonsense she was speaking seemed perfectly directed for me, and luckily most of her points got across. That is my lovely take on that part of the article.
ReplyDeleteFor part two I would like to tell how the piece David from Kettle Bottom affected me with sound. It was the writer’s skill with injecting the Italian voice and broken English that made the sound of the piece real to me. It spoke of trials and discrimination that is echoed in racism today. I could feel the heat of the speaker’s anger turn to cold and depressed resignation, all because of the poem’s structure and diction that gave it its own sound. It is still one of my favorite pieces of the class and also most memorable because of the presence of sound.
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ReplyDeleteJesse Ball, in the ‘Meaning in Nonsense’ article wrote, “Many times, when someone writes something, they hope for some precision of communication—they want to provide some precise statement that exists in one mind, and make it exist in your mind. But I think Carroll’s understanding of communication was more interesting than that. He understands that the text that you create is an object that collides with the mind with the reader—and that some third thing, which is completely unknowable, is made.” Often times, I get frustrated with my limited ability to precisely communicate something I am feeling or thinking; usually, I know what I want to say, but it’s hard to know how to say it, or how to say it in a way that others will also understand. But for Carroll to let go of the fear of miscommunication and write his nonsensical poem unapologetically, that is something beautiful and unique. One individual’s perception of a sentiment can be extremely different from the next person’s, and that is what makes all experiences more interesting. This quote resonated with me because I like the idea of nonsense, and perfect sense, making a unique kind of sense in special ways for each individual.
ReplyDeleteWhen thinking of a book we’ve read this year that has impacted me through nonsense, I am drawn towards ‘A Clockwork Orange’ and the use of the fictitious Nadsat language. As I was following Alex on his journey of betrayals, violence, and self-discovery, I felt all the more connected to him because of his use of this language. To me, it was as if I was being let in on a secret that only few really know. It was like I was a fellow droog. The use of these unprecedented words adds a barrier for the reader to break through in order to understand and connect with the text. Perhaps, if I weren’t assigned this book, I wouldn’t have read it out of a feeling of things being lost in translation, but because I have, I am all the wiser. It was so interesting to me to delve into the mind of Alex in such a way: to be let in on this thing he used to share with his closest friends. For those of us who chose to look up every single Nadsat word on every single page, I think it’s a special thing to share a form of communication that some may just brush aside as pure gibberish. That unique aspect of this book is a major reason of why I enjoyed it so much.
Overall, I loved Ball’s article. It was hard to pick out just one quote that I liked the most and that I felt resonated louder than the others. As people, we shouldn’t be quick to negatively judge a thing just because we don’t understand it at first. Every person, every piece of art, every thing that doesn’t seem to make sense, deserves to be appreciated in its own special way and I think Carroll and Ball both understand that.
“There’s a misunderstanding about what nonsensical things are—the idea that they're just funny, and that's the beginning and the end of it. Nonsense is not “not sense”—it operates at the edge of sense. It teems with sense—at the same time, it resists any kind of universal understanding.”
ReplyDeleteThe statement above was what really resonated with me while reading the article. When things are thought of as “nonsense” it is often thrown away and disregarded as something that holds meaning to it. However Ball says the exact opposite. Nonsense is a common thing found in literature or other forms of art and even if they do not seem to hold any meaning, in truth they do. Everything makes sense, but some need extra thinking to find out exactly what is being portrayed. Some nonsensical qualities can only be figured out if it holds meaning within a person and not everyone will understand it, especially at first look.
An example that we have read in class that holds the ideals of nonsense is Beckett’s Waiting For Godot. The book is teeming with nonsense that at first seemed pointless. It was as if there was no point to the text other than two questionably sane people waiting around day after day for someone to show up. But after analyzing the play it was shown that the play held lots of meaning about life and how we live it. The pointlessness of the nonsense was discovered to mean a lot more than what was originally thought. Each character and action meaning something that can be relatable to our lives and to show us that the way that we are living is just the repetition of day in and day out waiting for death. Through the nonsense we were supposed to learn to not just wait around but to make something happen in our lives.
There was one paragraph that really did resound with me as a goal that I feel everyone should consider while writing.
ReplyDelete"This is a practicality of means, based upon the immense shortness of time that we have. Imagine I said to you, “Your grandmother is going to die in five minutes. You have to go in and just tell her something wonderful: She wants to hear a beautiful thing.” You’re not going to try to create a prose object that can be judged by some committee of your peers, something perfectly in harmony and well-balanced and wry and witty and correct. Or something someone writing an essay in The New Yorker would pronounce a good work. You’re just going to—within the language that’s shared between your grandmother and yourself—attempt to burst all bounds and create a resonance. That resonance is your only aim. Anything that is not the resonance, you discard. That’s the real work."
As a reader you remember what the author throws at you that you can connect with. That is what a writer should strive to achieve. He won't achieve it through complex rhetorical devices, or metaphors. No, he will achieve it through making connections with the reader through sounds, imagery, emotion, and language. That is how we connect with literature. In the article the author nails this point while stating that authors use nonsense to draw the reader into the story and predicament.
But obviously, when it comes to nonsense Waiting For Godot comes right to mind. The whole book is about repetition through nonsense and for that reason the book did kind of get on my nerves. However, the language and the nonsense of the book did make an impression on me that I can't deny. There was just enough sense to the nonsense for me to understand what the deeper theme and message of the book was. That is why Waiting for godot made an impression on me.
“The crucial thing in any work of any kind is that it must be a gift—the reader must possess it even more than the person who wrote it. It must be given completely.” What I love about this statement is the importance of the relationship between the reader and writer. If we write for ourselves or for others we are always writing for someone and whoever may read it should feel the gift given by its writer. Some may have a harder time than others making the connection but however we mange to come to the conclusion, we end up coming together with the writer. Waiting for Godot is a piece that we have read in class and has spoken to me and it's other readers through “nonsense”. What is interesting about Godot is that you have pick apart the “nonsense” being said to create an understanding that works. I agree with what is said in the article because, like Godot, it all makes “sense” in the end.
ReplyDelete“When I write, it isn’t so important to me that the page itself be beautiful to look at or somehow unimpeachable. It's simply that it gestures in the right direction, such that something happens within the mind of the reader. In the other direction, unfortunately, it’s possible to create page after page of beautiful perfect-looking prose that is kind of tepid. It's hard to say anything against it because it all figures out perfectly. You look through it, and it’s all there, it’s all correct, whatever. But something that is ragged and strange-looking might in fact be completely practical and efficacious as writing, because it causes the explosion that’s necessary in the mind.”
ReplyDeleteThe passage above resonate with me because it reiterates the importance of analyzing any work of art. Sometimes certain pieces of art, be they print or an actual painting, fail to leave an exact imprint upon the reader/viewer as to what has been perceived. Thus it is necessary for said reader or viewer to deduce as to what is actual being seen or witnessed. Perhaps it is the downfall of once proud narcissus or that of a disenfranchised, ex-student in the streets of Russia. When we are forced to analyze works of art in class I became overjoyed at hearing different viewpoints on the piece, because I enjoy learning from others such as Mr. Whitcomb or Mr. Liu. The more ambiguous a work is, the more interesting the interpretations of it can become. Not to mention, even a seemingly obvious work can be given a grandiose meaning thanks to the subjective nature of art. The,” explosion that’s necessary in the mind,” brings to fruition more possibilities about a work that allows its audience as well as the world to grow. As art requires us to think it can help us grow or enjoy life, so no longer is a story merely a simple notion on a page but rather a reflection of the opinions, experiences, and life of another. The face of a piece of art may not even compare in comparison to the meaning or story associated with it. just as the old cliche goes we may not always wish to “judge a book by its cover.”
Take Fyodor Dostoevsky's Notes From The Underground with its sporadic narrator. At every turn he constantly changes direction in his thoughts, even to the point of rendering himself a hypocrite. With a quick read his thoughts could come off as simple ramblings without a purpose, but when the reader stops to ponder the reason as to why he is rambling the book can become, at the very least, deeper in meaning. From my perspective it represented internal turmoil with reality as well as the individual. I empathised with the Underground Man seeing as my own, possibly self imposed, fear of inferiority has caused innumerable ramblings. Am I right? Was I rude? Did my commentary while fully deprived of sleep seem insulting? Yet, even when there is no real purpose but to exist a work of art such as the Jabberwocky helps to convey a message to the reader personally. Perhaps the usage of old english produces fear or happiness at what could be considered a silly way of speaking. Jesse Ball was correct in writing that what we could consider nonsense,” operates at the edge of sense,’ and still holds power in its peculiarity. Sometimes the indirect way at sending a message works just as well as the most direct.
“There’s a misunderstanding about what nonsensical things are—the idea that they're just funny, and that's the beginning and the end of it. Nonsense is not “not sense”—it operates at the edge of sense. It teems with sense—at the same time, it resists any kind of universal understanding.”
ReplyDeleteThis section of the article resonated with me because when it comes to poetry nonsense has always been something that has made it disinteresting to me. I used to find nonsense words in literature to be pointless or lacking any real substance. After reading this article I realized that nonsense words can actually be staples in literature, in the way that there is meaning behind not only the words, but the sounds as well. The author makes an interesting point in the article when stating that nonsense writing is something that can be used when you have a lot to say, but do not have the space in the piece to convey the point. It also creates memorable sounds and paints a picture in the mind of the reader that stays with them. The feeling the audible part of nonsensical writing is half of the impact on the reader, and I realize now that literature would be seriously lacking without the use of it. The nonsense should be analyzed in depth for it contributes to the fluidity of the piece and it’s meaning.
When looking back on pieces we’ve read this year that could be nonsensical, I immediately think of “Waiting for Godot.” I found the cyclical nature of the novel to be very frustrating and the lack of action made everything seem very pointless. I feel now that when I was reading it that I was just taking the story for face value, rather than trying to uncover why the author specifically wrote the piece that way. After dissecting the play in class and through the jigsaw, it helped me better understand that underneath all nonsensical writing there is a deeper more impactful meaning, than just what can be seen on the surface.
“Nonsense is not ‘not sense’ -it operates at the edge of sense.” This section of Jesse Ball’s piece resonates with me, because it recognizes that behind all madness is sanity. We all experience some form of nonsense in our lives, but it is up to us to make this gibberish comfortable within us, and accept it as logic.
ReplyDeleteI have two personal experiences that make me feel connected to this piece. This morning, I met my friend’s baby brother for the first time (he’s adorable). He is only six months old, but he can communicate with everyone in his own beautiful way. Nothing felt better than hearing his happy coos while I was holding him. From a few babbles and noises I could feel us bonding, and it was so beautiful! He made one bad sound, and his mom instantly knew he was hungry. He has his own language in which we have adapted and now understand.
Another personal experience I have is with my friend Caitlin. Usually when we’re together we are constantly cracking jokes and cracking up. We’re both so silly and giddy with each other, which is one of the things I love the most about our friendship. One day we were with our friend Olivia. Caitlin and I were laughing hard (probably at something stupid, which isn’t unusual), and Olivia turned to us and said, “You guys are having a full conversation with each other but not saying any words.” Caitlin and I didn’t realize we weren’t actually talking, because we understood each other perfectly. I find that so beautiful!!!
When we read A Clockwork Orange this year, I was initailly confused by the made up language used. I was constantly referring to translations and was having a hard time understanding the text. Eventually, I learned the ins and outs and became comfortable with the book and it's nonsense.
I guess that’s life.
"I think when I’m writing in the first place, when I really get going, I’m murmuring what I’m writing in a half-breath as I’m working. It’s probably embarrassing if I’m in some public place, sitting there ranting to myself. (Usually I try to sit far enough away from other people.) They say that after you write a work, and finally look at it, you can’t tell what’s there any more. How can you actually see the work in order to judge it? One way is to read it out loud—to somebody who you’re a little afraid of, whose opinion matters to you. When you read it aloud, there are parts you might skip over—you find yourself not wanting to speak them. Those are the weak parts. It’s hard to find them otherwise, just reading along. But you can judge the work more clearly when you hear and feel its sound."
ReplyDeleteI follow this same pattern when I write. I tend to say what I am writing, and even when reading I find it easier to understand if I hear it in my own voice. In speeches, sometimes I do skip over parts of the script I find weak when I'm actually saying rather than writing it down. Communication exists in many forms but maybe it is spoken language that is the most effective; where even nonsense could hold its own weight.
One of the last poem's in Kettlebottom, "David," made me realize something when it was read aloud. A major theme in "David" is the juxtaposition between the foreign Italian culture and the industrial American culture. Throughout the poem the speaker chooses to write in Italian, yet the words do not look that different from English, so the audience can still figure out the translation. It is not until these foreign words are said out loud does the real separation occur. On paper, the difference in language is not so big, yet when spoken the difference is much clearer. It is this one detail that makes this poem more impactful when heard rather read. Sound is powerful, and carries itself its own range of emotions. It is not something as uniform as written language, but instead is off the chains with variety and performance.