{"id":102089,"date":"2016-08-30T13:00:50","date_gmt":"2016-08-30T17:00:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=102089"},"modified":"2016-08-30T15:12:03","modified_gmt":"2016-08-30T19:12:03","slug":"godspeed-sweet-intent","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2016\/08\/30\/godspeed-sweet-intent\/","title":{"rendered":"Godspeed, Sweet Intent"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><em>Hunting the sound stack in the rondels of D\u2019Orl\u00e9ans.<\/em><\/p>\n<div id=\"attachment_102126\" style=\"width: 610px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/08\/madrid-bonheur.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-102126\" class=\"wp-image-102126\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/08\/madrid-bonheur.jpg\" alt=\"Rosa Bonheur, The Horse Fair, oil on canvas, 1852\u201355. \" width=\"600\" height=\"454\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-102126\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">Rosa Bonheur, <i>The Horse Fair <\/i>(detail), oil on canvas, 1852\u201355.<\/p><\/div>\n<p><span style=\"line-height: 1.5;\">In the March 1915 issue of <\/span><em style=\"line-height: 1.5;\">Poetry<\/em><span style=\"line-height: 1.5;\"> magazine (page 254), the following poem appeared for the first time in print:\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<blockquote>\n<p>IMAGE FROM D\u2019ORLEANS<\/p>\n<p>Young men riding in the street<br \/> In the bright new season<br \/> Spur without reason,<br \/> Causing their steeds to leap.<\/p>\n<p>And at the pace they keep<br \/> Their horses\u2019 armored feet<br \/> Strike sparks from the cobbled street<br \/> In the bright new season.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p>I first encountered it, seventy or seventy-five years later, in <em>Person\u00e6: The Shorter Poems of Ezra Pound<\/em>. I did not know at that time whether d\u2019Orl\u00e9ans was a person or a place, nor did I look into it. I was charmed by the poem\u2014more than I knew\u2014but there were many pieces in <em>Person\u00e6<\/em> that interested me more. By the time I turned thirty, I could recite at least two dozen of Pound\u2019s shorter poems from memory. \u201cImage from D\u2019Orleans\u201d was not one of them.\u00a0<!--more--><\/p>\n<p>I say I was charmed more than I knew, but how can you be more charmed than you know. That\u2019s easy, you let ideas get in the way. Idea #1: <em>I only like poems with good lines<\/em>. Idea #2: <em>I only like poems that say something interesting<\/em>. Maybe you\u2019re a little bit like me? Maybe those two ideas seem rock-solid to you?<\/p>\n<p>They\u2019re cute, but the problem is, working together, they prevent you from knowing you\u2019re charmed by things other than content. If a poem\u2019s main goodness is that it makes a neat little Celtic knot of <em>ee<\/em> sounds, you will like the poem, but you won\u2019t know how much until years later, when your ideas relax.<\/p>\n<p>I remember very well how surprising it was to me, when Nadya snatched up <em>Person\u00e6<\/em> one day and proceeded to read to me from the section where \u201cImage from D\u2019Orleans\u201d appears.\u00a0She did not know which poems I was specially devoted to, so she neither sought them out nor avoided them. Again and again, I insisted on being shown the book\u2014which I thought I knew\u2014because I couldn\u2019t believe that what I had just heard had been in there all along. \u201cImage from D\u2019Orleans\u201d was one of these.<\/p>\n<p>The footnotes in the Library of America Pound will not tell you how to find d\u2019Orl\u00e9ans\u2019 fifteenth-century original. But K.\u2009K. Ruthven\u2019s 1969 <em>Guide to Ezra Pound\u2019s\u00a0\u201cPerson\u00e6\u201d (1926)<\/em> has you covered: Ruthven quotes the French poem in full, and tells you its number and some other things, but\u2014get ready for disappointment\u2014Ruthven does not translate the poem. So, unless you\u2019re good with French from the 1400s, you don\u2019t get to find out whether Pound\u2019s translation is weird, wild, or what.\u00a0<\/p>\n<p>I independently located d\u2019Orl\u00e9ans\u2019s original a few months ago without knowing about Ruthven. I was reading an extremely stimulating book: <em>The French Chansons of Charles D\u2019Orl\u00e9ans<\/em>, edited and translated by Sarah Spence (Garland, 1986). Here is the original poem:<\/p>\n<blockquote>\n<p>Jeunes amoureux nouveaulx<br \/> En la nouvelle saison,<br \/> Par les rues, sans raison,<br \/> Chevauchent, faisans les saulx.<br \/> Et font saillir des carreaulx<br \/> Le feu, comme de cherbon,<br \/> \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Jeunes amoureux nouveaulx.<br \/> Je ne s\u00e7ay se leurs travaulx<br \/> Ilz emploient bien ou non,<br \/> Mais piqu\u00e9s de l\u2019esperon<br \/> Sont autant que leurs chevaulx<br \/> \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Jeunes amoureux nouveaulx.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p>Here is Spence\u2019s hyperliteral translation:<\/p>\n<blockquote>\n<p>Young new lovers,<br \/> In the new season,<br \/> Down the streets, carefree,<br \/> They saunter, making leaps and passes.<br \/> And they make the cobblestones<br \/> Leap as fire does coal.<br \/> \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Young new lovers.<br \/> I don\u2019t know if their labors<br \/> Are well-spent or not,<br \/> But pricked by the spur<br \/> They are just like their horses,<br \/> \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0Young new lovers.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p>She says, in a footnote, that she has put \u201cleaps and passes\u201d where the French merely says \u201cleaps\u201d because to \u201cmake a leap\u201d was an idiom for what we call making a pass at somebody.<\/p>\n<p>Note that Pound has translated the sound pattern much more than what the poem says. He wants the mysterious satisfaction of the return-to-tonic, which is, after all, the raison d\u2019\u00eatre of this form. He gets everything else wrong, yet he is right. He may not give you that particular poem, but he gives you <em>d\u2019Orl\u00e9ans<\/em>.<\/p>\n<p>Lewis Turco\u2019s <em>New Book of Forms<\/em> (1986) would call d\u2019Orl\u00e9ans\u2019s piece a rondel. Rondeaux\u2014not the same thing\u2014are supposedly longer, and <em>rondines<\/em> a bit shorter; <em>rondeleys<\/em> are shorter still. There appear to be millions of rules. I gotta say, though: If you look at a document like <em>The Penguin Book of French Verse, 1: To the Fifteenth Century<\/em> (1961), it seems many French-writing poets (and English-writing editors) throughout history have neglected to study and digest their Turco.\u00a0In the real world, the word <em>rondeau<\/em> covers almost all cases.<\/p>\n<p>Anyhow, I find it quite difficult to explain to myself, or anyone else, why the repetitions and confinement-to-two-rhyme-sounds should result in such an attractive thing. Regarding this and quite a few other poetic phenomena, I prefer to describe the matter in terms of pathology. You either have the disease or you don\u2019t. Same thing with baby-talk nicknames. Same thing with the concept of literary allusion. Same thing with death metal.<\/p>\n<p>I wanted to see what a trimeter rondel closely following d\u2019Orl\u00e9ans\u2019s rhyme scheme might sound like in English, and concocted the following pastiche. It is not exactly like \u201c[Jeunes amoureux nouveaulx\u00a0\u2026 ],\u201d but it <em>is <\/em>exactly like the <em>majority<\/em> of d\u2019Orl\u00e9ans\u2019s chansons.<\/p>\n<blockquote>\n<p>Say anything, my pen,<br \/> For this is not the thing.<br \/> She will not hear you sing,<br \/> For all your acumen.<br \/> Take kinder counsel then,<br \/> This final day of spring.<br \/> Say anything my pen,<br \/> For this is not the thing.<\/p>\n<p>Wild animal in glen,<br \/> Indefatigable thing,<br \/> Time was, you felt the sting\u2014<br \/> But if any ask you when,<br \/> Say anything, my pen.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p>With \u201chyperliteral\u201d translations of d\u2019Orl\u00e9ans, you have to use your imagination to supply the grace and what I call the \u201csound stack.\u201d With <em>my<\/em> poem, the sounds are all there, but you have to pretend the content is good. Or you can always learn some French and take your roundels, -dines, and -deaux as God intended.<\/p>\n<p>I\u2019ll close by quoting the most charming rondeau in English. It was just-short-of-certainly written by Geoffrey Chaucer, in the late fourteenth century, around fifty years before d\u2019Orl\u00e9ans. I have modernized most of the spellings, but I had to leave a few words in Middle English, to preserve the pentameter. I may have botched line four; I don\u2019t know how to scan it. In line five I translated an idiom.<\/p>\n<blockquote>\n<p>Since I from love escap\u00e8d am so fat,<br \/> I never think to be in his prison lean;<br \/> Since I am free, I count him not a bean.<\/p>\n<p>He may answer, and say\u00e8 this or that;<br \/> I &lt;pay no mind*&gt;, I speak right as I mean.<br \/> \u00a0 \u00a0Since I from love escap\u00e8d am so fat,<br \/> \u00a0 \u00a0I never think to be in his prison lean.<\/p>\n<p>Love has my name y-struck out of his slat,<br \/> And he is struck out from my book\u00e8s clean<br \/> Forevermore; there is no other mean.<br \/> \u00a0 \u00a0Since I from love escap\u00e8d am so fat,<br \/> \u00a0\u00a0 I never think to be in his prison lean;<br \/> \u00a0\u00a0 Since I am free, I count him not a bean.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p>______<\/p>\n<p>* The original reads, \u201cdo no fors.\u201d<\/p>\n<div class=\"blog-copy\">\n<div class=\"blog-copy\">\n<p><em><i>Anthony Madrid now lives in Victoria, Texas<\/i>. His poems have appeared in <\/em>Best American Poetry 2013<em>,\u00a0<\/em>Boston Review<em>, <\/em>Fence<em>, <\/em>Harvard Review<em>, <\/em>Lana Turner, LIT,\u00a0<em>and<\/em> Poetry<em>. His first book is called<\/em> I Am Your Slave Now Do What I Say<i>\u00a0<\/i><em>(Canarium Books, 2012).\u00a0He is a correspondent for the\u00a0<\/em>Daily<em>.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Hunting the sound stack in the rondels of D\u2019Orl\u00e9ans. In the March 1915 issue of Poetry magazine (page 254), the following poem appeared for the first time in print:\u00a0 IMAGE FROM D\u2019ORLEANS Young men riding in the street In the bright new season Spur without reason, Causing their steeds to leap. And at the pace [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1005,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[22700],"tags":[24232,24247,3115,529,24244,24243,24234,12834,24238,24230,24233,3539,1447,165,24231,3628,24246,24239,24241,24248,24240,24235,24237,24236,24242,530,24245],"class_list":["post-102089","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-our-correspondents","tag-24232","tag-chansons","tag-ezra-pound","tag-french","tag-french-poetry","tag-french-poets","tag-image-from-dorleans","tag-library-of-america","tag-new-book-of-forms","tag-oorleans","tag-personae-the-collected-shorter-poems-of-ezra-pound","tag-poem","tag-poet","tag-poetry","tag-poetry-foundation","tag-poetry-magazine","tag-rondeau","tag-rondeaux","tag-rondeleys","tag-rondels","tag-rondines","tag-ruthven","tag-sarah-spence","tag-the-french-chansons-of-charles-dorleans","tag-the-penguin-book-of-french-verse","tag-translation","tag-turco"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- 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