Word: poetes
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...roster of stars-including James Coburn, Walter Matthau, and Charles Aznavour) -- enjoy the "charity" offered by Southern and Hoffenberg's nymphette, while scripter Buck Henry (dare this hardcore Southern fan say it) actually improves upon the novel in two bizarrely funny sequences: Candy's worshipful encounter with drunk Welsh poet McPhisto (Richard Burton), leading to a more-than-peculiar basement menage a quatre involving her Mexican gardener (a "Pepper"-era Ringo Starr doing an incredibly awful accent); and her "lesson" with a guru (Marlon Brando) whose accent keeps changing from East Indian to New Yawk in mid-sentence. Henry...
...prints and drawings by William Blake (1757-1827) on view at New York City's Metropolitan Museum of Art through June 24 sets before us an artist who is widely loved but, in a curious way, only narrowly known. Of course, he is the very archetype of the artist-poet: self-taught in most respects, brimming over with lyrical visions and grandiose fantasies. A childhood education that left out his exquisite Songs of Innocence and Experience would be a poor one indeed...
Strangely, given his pursuit of ecstatic insight, he had no connection to the Romantic poets of his day, such as Coleridge and Wordsworth. But others he revered: John Milton, especially, whom he valued even above Dante. (He illustrated both.) Not only was Milton a republican and a sympathizer with regicides, but he also knew that the devil was beautiful, and so did Blake. Blake saw how insipid even Milton's descriptions of Paradise were compared with his visions of Hell, and pointed out that "the reason Milton wrote in fetters when he wrote of Angels & God, and at liberty when...
...always on the side of liberty and instinct. "The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom," he wrote in the Proverbs of Hell. And also: "Sooner murder an infant in its cradle than nurse unacted desires." (The latter sounds more like Sade than the gentle poet of Lambeth, who wouldn't have hurt a hair on a child's head...
...canned music does not cry out to heaven for vengeance. But small evils---the evils of banality--- also need attention, especially when they become universal. Canned music is what you expect to hear when you die and go to hell. "De la musique, avant toute chose," advised the symbolist poet Paul Verlaine. I'll give you de la musique: In one ear, in the other...