20.b. Myths, legends and folklore traditions are ancient records of the desires of mankind. They are its primary wealth to re-edit your themes. Since the wishes of each creator are its objective, (for she/he writes to enjoy it, to feel pleasure or satisfaction, or to rescue his own identity in a somewhat alienating world) resemble individual experiences that form the basis of personal creation. Here are two very similar processes, the first general one, the second individual one. As in modern physics – include here a warm greeting for Steve Hawking and John Preskill, who won that bet – the effect of a synchronic relationship in magic thought is NOT necessarily retrospective as regards the cause. Relativity becomes then, neither more nor less than fantastic! 21. The writer transfers... and the reader receives such transfers. That is why inside each of us there are several readers who are different and each one raving in her/his own way. That is the big charm of short story… The positive transfer is the unconscious update, the set of memories that the writer goes on evoking and proposing (or the therapist goes on discovering, or at least thinks he is doing so.) For example, concerning the (past or experienced) Eros – to Eros (in the present). Or (past or experienced) Thanatos to-Thanatos (in the present). While the negative transfer is the contrary unconscious update; Thus, from Eros (a love in the pas) a contradiction or inversion takes place towards - Thanatos (death in the present.) In other words, when after that Olympic feast, only bones and skins are left for us! Now, ¿what are counter-transferences? A positive countertransference comes from the unconscious effect on the reader, or therapist. Therefore, you get Eros from Eros, and then you jump to make love! While a negative one implies that from Eros you get but Thanatos, or vice versa; that from Thanatos you happen to get at least Eros, and again, making love is the solution! Just as in Flauberts Herodías, Borges cared for countertransference, and not to bring the past unto the present, but rather flee from the latter one unto the past. 22. it is the Bridge through which elements pass from the objective world, to the when I or subjective world. The study of the various elements that phenomena of the objective world have to offer the artist, the selection of some and the removal of others, depending on what may suit the work being pursued, is what integrates the System. Thus, the art of adaptation is different from merely projective or representative art as the artist of the first takes from Nature other elements than does the imitative artist: and the same thing happens a regards the best creation produced by an artist in his prime. Once chosen the elements whose expression means are to be studied, to make them return to the objective world, we proceed to implement the technique. Lets see a triad of illustrations: a. The objective world: Here comes, the swallow comes , offers the artist the diverse items. This implies to use system to thus derive a subjective world, and using the technique, to return to the new objective world: Here comes the swallowed day... under the form of a new fact as created by the artist and by no other one than him... (even with the help of his other own I identities) Here comes comes the swallow Here comes, comes the fine swallow comes Here comes the twitter swallow Here comes the top trill swallow the Chinese swallow comes. Here comes the swallowed rhyme Now comes the swallowed laughter the swallow girl the swallow tour the swallow lyre the swallow breeze the swallowed squeal Now comes the swallowed day (Altazor, or the Parachute Ride, by Chente Huidobro – freely adapted by RAM) b.. Now lets read an anti-poem by an anti-poet, Nicanor Parra, who declared, The anti-poet grants himself the right to say everything, without caring for any possible consequences of his practice. And if the world comes down, MUCH BETTER. That is the ultimate goal, to shake up with a folded newspaper the moth-eaten foundations of obsolete and stiff institutions! What about poetry? It is anti-ornamental, concrete, very direct and convulsed, before a world petrified by its own decay. You cannot live in the city without having a known trade. Police enforces the law. Some are soldiers who shed their blood for the country (This goes in between quotation marks) Others are astute traders; take a grain or two or three to the Kilo of plums. And those over there are priests walking about with a book in their hand. Everyone knows his own business. And ¿which one do you guess mine is? I sing, looking at the closed windows to see if they open And let fall a coin.” (Beggar, in Russian songs) When raising him to the ideal level of a Troubadour, this is a blatant idealization of a beggar. Who, other than a Troubadour by trade, is going to go risk that they throw a good pale of water all over him?... because they do not normally launch lemonade, or chocolate, or tea, or coffee, more likely the cheapest of liquors or urine! Someone who writes like that can express his own opinion on anything else! Now, let us read his more or less fair, Epitaph: c. Of a medium stature, with a voice neither thin or thick, the eldest son of a primary teacher and a backroom seamstress; skinny since birth though devoted to good food; with hanging cheeks and rather abundant ears; with a square face with barely open eyes and a mulatto boxers nose, a mouth as lowered as that of an Aztec idol – and all of this bathed in a light between ironic and perfidious - not very smart or so silly as to be auctioned, I was what I was: a mixture of vinegar and cooking oil, a sausage of angel and beast! d. Speaking of how to idealize or sublimate, I have not reached such a goal; I only spoke to her a couple of times in the following example. Maybe the system did not fail in the logistics process of poetic creation, but I was short in terms of technique, for I forgot to retake the targetI Not too unusual a distraction in the case of true artists, and believe it she did not care to stay either! Guess her name, elucidating her fate An Arab princess would not have been so beautiful She was born on a second day, like I did and has also loved children, To see a different way of smiling in her perfect lips and of looking with those eyes that are not of this world They must have escaped from the dimension of goodness. (Emily, a teacher in my poetry) How could I not see her from the first moment? How not to wish to meet her… without a heart keen to retain her?
Posted on: Mon, 12 May 2014 20:20:21 +0000