Читать книгу Poesia digital - Oreto Doménech i Masià - Страница 11

Yo diría que la literatura es también una forma de la alegría.

Jorge Luis Borges, El libro

I hope never to idealize poetry, it has suffered enough from that. Poetry is not a healing lotion, an emotional massage, a kind of linguistic aromatherapy. Neither is a blueprint, nor an instruction manual, nor a billboard. There is no universal Poetry anyway, only poetries and poetics, and the streaming intertwinning histories to which they belong. There is room, indeed necessity, for both Neruda and César Vallejo, for Pier Paolo Passolini and Alfonsina Storni, for Audre Lorde and Aimé Césaire, for both Ezra Pound and Nelly Sachs. Poetries are no more pure and simple than human histories are pure and simple. Poetry, like silk or coffee or oil or human flesh, has had its trade routes. And there are colonized poetics and resilient poetics, transmissions across frontiers not easily traced. [...] Critical discourse about poetry has said little about the daily conditions of our material existence, past and present: how they imprint the life of the feelings, of involuntary human responses _how we glimpse a blur of smoke in the air, look at a pair of shoes in a shop window, at a woman sleep in her car or a group of men on a street corner, how we hear the whir of an helicopter or rain on the roof or music on the radio upstairs, how we meet or avoid the eyes of a neighbor or a stranger. That pressure bends our angle of vision whether we recognize it or not. A great many wellwrought, banal poems, like a great many essays on poetry and poetics, are written as if such pressures didn’t exist. But this only reveals their existence. [...] And such a line can also be drawn between ideologically obedient hack verse and an engaged poetics that endures the weight of the unkonwn, the untracked, the unrealized, along with its urgencies for and against.

Adrienne Rich, Poetry and Commitment