Word: ginsberg
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Mortified, the editors of Corral, the Oklahoma State University literary magazine, last week discovered that there are cheatniks among the beatniks of the new generation. The poem they printed, as gloriously beat as anything ever incanted by Allen (Howl) Ginsberg...
...incantatory verse, Theodore Roethke writes poetry in which the meaning is just beneath the surface, with only the end of its nose showing. Perhaps the best of the U.S. poetic generation that is wedged between the spare witticisms of Wallace Stevens and the distempered howls of Allen Ginsberg's Beat Generation, 50-year-old Poet Roethke has restored simplicity to the tortured, packed lines of U.S. moderns. He has brought back melody to a poetry that was becoming as labored and dissonant as the twelve-tone scale...
...porpoises, run in schools. American poets (with very few exceptions) stopped thinking after T. S. Eliot, divided into two camps, and started publishing little magazines. The first flails away at the English language, American technology, form, the gentle passions, and the fairer sex; its grenadiers are men like Allen Ginsberg--neurotic Walt Whitmans with heroin and hypodermic needles and an intense sense of persecution. The second consists of old men with furrowed brows, writing for university quarterlies and occasionally publishing in the Atlantic; substituting form for substance, proceeding with hunched back and hickory cane down the convoluted paths of experiment...
...Producer Gene Feldman, 37, and Literary Agent Max Gartenberg, 32, is that it answers this question better collectively than any one of the semi-articulate Beats and Angries has done on his own. The editors have culled the best from both schools (the U.S.'s Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Clellon Holmes; Britain's Kingsley Amis, John Wain, John Osborne) and leavened the lot with sharp-eyed critical commentaries from both sides of the water. U.S. readers will find the Beat section more interesting, if only because it helps to illuminate such postwar phenomena as the James Dean cult...
...chronic manic-depressive ("Crazy, man!"; "Everything drags me now"). A kind of urban waif in the asphalt jungle, he regularly tastes despair, or what Kerouac calls "the pit and prunejuice of poor beat life itself in the god-awful streets of man." Sometimes he "flips," i.e., goes mad. Allen Ginsberg, 32, the discount-house Whitman of the Beat Generation, begins his dithyrambic poem Howl (which the New York Times's Critic J. Donald Adams has suggested should be retitled Bleat) with the lines: "I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves...