SophiaHaven
Internet Refugee
- Joined
- Aug 11, 2024
- Messages
- 8
- Reaction score
- 65
- Awards
- 29
This is a casual, low-effort (but hopefully high-value) thread in-between the writing of my more philosophical or artistic thoughts.
Post songs, verses, images, or upload pdfs of media that are so obscure you're 100% sure not even fellow Agoranons have seen them! I'll start:
Kanuraichik: This is a young girl living in the Turkic portion of the Russkiy Mir -- I believe perhaps a Kazakh? -- who makes music in the international style, with a decidedly rhythmic and harmony-oriented bent. It's nothing quite so deep, but her voice is lovely and the rhymes are pleasing to my Anglophone ear. On that one common video hosting site, her piece Образ, has some 2000 views, of which I probably constitute somewhere in the vicinity of 500. I've never shared the piece with anyone else, but the rhythmic organization of the song is so delightful to my ear that I can't quite seem to get away from it for any long period of time.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qdviQdPLkyM
(2.2K Views; a good portion of those are myself)
Cicada: No, not the /x/ phenomenon (though that one is incredible as well). I mean the pseudonymous Taiwanese group making neoclassical music (of the intimate piano + strings variety). The style of it is somehow similar to much else I've known, but somehow more human, more delicate, more sublime and beautiful than most of what I've known. It's perhaps the music that makes the intellectual half of myself feel most understood, though I tend to be more emotionally moved by pieces with heavy usage of harmony.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0-s1gZRjnvs
(110k views, a bit more mainstream than the other entries on here, though this is over 8 years and I suspect mostly from Taiwanese listeners).
Unrelated and honorable mention:
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kyVWT4w-DnI
(19k views over 10 years, I discovered this one not long after it was published)
Adelaide Crapsey: The present reader will forgive the long explanation; it is unfortunately so niche that it as part of its nature requires a lengthy elucidation. I've put it in quote blocks for organizational cohesion. Adelaide Crapsey was an American woman of the socialite class in NYC during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. She invented a way of composing Imagist poetry in English that, in my belief, is unparalleled (and much superior to the likes of Pound). There has been speculation she developed her cinquain form -- a five line stanza of 1, 2, 3, 4, and then finally 1 iamb(s) -- after contact with the 百人一首 of the Japanese. Whether or not that may be the case -- and whether even if we grant that it be so, that she understood the underlying prosodic principles of the Oriental language to sufficient degree as to imitate its expression in the English -- the actual prosody of her poetry is unmistakably Imagist and Tanka/Haiku-esque in nature.
The Epic of Sunjata: This is the national epic of the Bambara/Mandinke of Mali, passed down as an oral tradition for the last one thousand years. There are no poetic translations of it, since the French and English only began to bother with documenting the local cultures of Subsaharan Africa in the early 1900's, when the cancerous poison of Vers Libre had already killed off nearly all European poetic tradition. Only awful prosaic renditions or short sung excerpts in translation exist, but I will here put two videos to watch which inspired me to write the below introduction to the epic in verse:
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzZmg9p-DQY
(4.5K views; you should listen as a podcast as the original version was before the reupload with stock footage. Unfortunately the original upload is gone and I had not the foresight to preserve it, this appears to be an expanded version, the original was about half this length.)
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yOS78ul1_rA
(136k views; female griot singing in modern Bambara, Malian-American professor of the Keita lineage translating into pseudorhythmic English prose)
2024/08/25
Post songs, verses, images, or upload pdfs of media that are so obscure you're 100% sure not even fellow Agoranons have seen them! I'll start:
Kanuraichik: This is a young girl living in the Turkic portion of the Russkiy Mir -- I believe perhaps a Kazakh? -- who makes music in the international style, with a decidedly rhythmic and harmony-oriented bent. It's nothing quite so deep, but her voice is lovely and the rhymes are pleasing to my Anglophone ear. On that one common video hosting site, her piece Образ, has some 2000 views, of which I probably constitute somewhere in the vicinity of 500. I've never shared the piece with anyone else, but the rhythmic organization of the song is so delightful to my ear that I can't quite seem to get away from it for any long period of time.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qdviQdPLkyM
(2.2K Views; a good portion of those are myself)
Cicada: No, not the /x/ phenomenon (though that one is incredible as well). I mean the pseudonymous Taiwanese group making neoclassical music (of the intimate piano + strings variety). The style of it is somehow similar to much else I've known, but somehow more human, more delicate, more sublime and beautiful than most of what I've known. It's perhaps the music that makes the intellectual half of myself feel most understood, though I tend to be more emotionally moved by pieces with heavy usage of harmony.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0-s1gZRjnvs
(110k views, a bit more mainstream than the other entries on here, though this is over 8 years and I suspect mostly from Taiwanese listeners).
Unrelated and honorable mention:
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kyVWT4w-DnI
(19k views over 10 years, I discovered this one not long after it was published)
Adelaide Crapsey: The present reader will forgive the long explanation; it is unfortunately so niche that it as part of its nature requires a lengthy elucidation. I've put it in quote blocks for organizational cohesion. Adelaide Crapsey was an American woman of the socialite class in NYC during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. She invented a way of composing Imagist poetry in English that, in my belief, is unparalleled (and much superior to the likes of Pound). There has been speculation she developed her cinquain form -- a five line stanza of 1, 2, 3, 4, and then finally 1 iamb(s) -- after contact with the 百人一首 of the Japanese. Whether or not that may be the case -- and whether even if we grant that it be so, that she understood the underlying prosodic principles of the Oriental language to sufficient degree as to imitate its expression in the English -- the actual prosody of her poetry is unmistakably Imagist and Tanka/Haiku-esque in nature.
Many believe that to write a haiku, one need merely divide a prose sentence into parts of 5, 7, and 5 syllables -- this is incorrect on two levels: the linguistic and the poetic. On a linguistic level, we recognize that the Japanese language operates primarily on the notion of the mora, a syllabic subunit in most languages, but in Japanese having almost a one-to-one correspondence with syllables due to the extremely simple rules of Japanese phonotactics. In particular, we note that the only multimoraic syllables in the language are those with long vowels ("Ka-a", i.e. "Mother"), Diphthongs ("Ai", i.e. "Love), or that terminate with the codal nasal ("So-n", i.e. "Loss"). All other syllables are strictly mono-moraic in the CV or V setup. As such, Japanese prosody is properly made up of lines of 5 and 7 morae and not syllables (and even this is incorrect, since it has been proven that the true meter of Japanese is exclusively that of eight-mora lines once metrical pauses are considered), so that attempting to imitate the form in English (where mora are not of particular importance to the phonotactic system), is simply meaningless. In terms of sheer length, one would better approximate the Japonic forms with 3 and 5 English syllables, respectively.
On another, and more important level, we have the poetic considerations: Japanese poetry operates via a fundamentally different mechanism than most poetic traditions, including the English. Whereas in the Anglo-Saxon or Latin or Greek or Chinese we have primarily rhythmic effects meant to stimulate the physiology of the reciter (and secondarily that of the listener) as a piece of Music or of Dance might do, and any visual or symbolic elements are secondary in importance -- this dynamic is reversed in Japanese. Rhythmic effects (primarily determined through grammatical boundaries and the position of the aforementioned metrical pauses) are present, but not of prime importance; the true beauty of Japanese verse is found in how it manages visual imagery.
Evidence from the Reizei Aristocracy of Kyoto and from the Karuta tradition shows that Japanese poetry would traditionally have been recited very, very slowly and with pauses bringing each and every line to the same eight-beat/morae length. When coupled with the common techniques of double entendres and grammatical ambiguity (an adjective on one line that one might initially think attaches to a prior noun, for example, being revealed to potentially attach equally as well to a noun in a subsequent line, both grammatically and thematically), this means that the act of reciting a Japanese verse is primarily one of imagining images as one slowly proceeds through the lines, and giving these images sufficient time in the mind to overlap, superimpose on each other, and evolve into another.
There is no parallel for this in English verse; the closest thing one can use to explain the idea is to point to surrealist/"psychedelic" videos (not in visual style or message, but in how images evolve into each other and how different images and ideas can exist in superposition at the same time, not unlike Schrodinger's Cat). The one and only good example of this Imagist Verse, in the English, are the cinquains of Adelaide Crapsey. Similar to the Japanese waka, if one chooses to recite each line as being composed of precisely five rhythmic beats (five iambs, or the temporal space of roughly ten syllables), then something very interesting indeed occurs:
ROMA AETERNA
The Sun -- -- -- --
Is warm today, -- -- --
O Romulus, -- and on --
Thine olden Palatine -- the birds
Still sing.
We might quibble about the precise placement of the pause in the fourth line (perhaps it is not after "Palatine", with a strong enjambment from "birds" to "still sing"), and instead at the end of the line, but the broad overtures are clear:
On pausing for four further beats on the recitation of "The Sun", we are allowed to truly expand and savor the image of the eye of heaven in our minds. Not merely its color or shape, but the associations we know it to possess -- beauty, immortality, power. Yet it is as of yet but a visual image, distant and cold and pure. Upon moving into the subsequent line we are given "Is warm today" which adds in the element of homeliness and comfort and transforms the image from one of distant perfection to one of close and personal appreciation, and adds in the physical sensation of embrace. One means this literally and not figuratively; from the mere impetus of memory reacting to the word "warmth", the blood rushes and imitates the sensation.
Moving forward, we have "O Romulus" with a slight subsequent pause at the grammatical boundary, which allows us the image of the sun to evolve and affect the new image of a noble and powerful man. Yet when we hear "Romulus", we do not only -- or even mostly -- imagine the mythical man of flesh and blood, but the Roman Empire and civilization more broadly, and its associations of unparalleled glory and splendor.
Here comes the point of superposition: the images do not replace each other chronologically as they would in canonical English verse; it is not a film that plays from start to end, but rather a series of impressions whose boundaries are not clearly demarcated and whose presence does not imply the casting out of the others. In introducing the image of Romulus and, through it, the Roman Empire, we do not merely modify the image of the Sun, but the image of the Sun itself also modifies Romulus. The memories of glory and splendor are given immortality and celestial perfection, and so is the immortal and celestial Sun given glory and splendor in turn. We imagine in our minds Romulus the man, the nation, and the Sun all at the same time -- both apart and together.
After the slight pause following "O, Romulus", we are given "and on --" which, in consideration of the prior elements we take to mean extension -- id est, "and on and on". This gives us the sense of perpetuity, and of unceasing growth (and it is important to note that this sense can only exist because there is a pause after "and on"; it would not at all work if the line was enjambed for phonological reasons we don't have the time to get into here). Here, interpretations will diverge, but one having read some of the classical canon cannot help but conjure associations of the old Hellenic notion of "immortality" (in that sense of unending fame through inclusion in poems and songs), and the images and sensations grow yet still to include a physical sense of anticipation, and desire, and awe at the grand and the unending, all of which coexist and modify the prior three images and sensations.
Yet upon reaching the fourth line the grammar reveals its sleight of hand, and we realize that "and on" also means "and physically on top of" the "olden Palatine [statue]" which finally collapses all senses, sensations, and emotions arising from semantic and pragmatic associations into one sole experience and image: That of a statue of Romulus on a brilliant summer day, warm in companionship and glorious in memory, unchanging at the zenith of the year's power, with all the resplendent ornaments of history and legend and myth adorning his marbled figure. With the concluding "The birds still sing", we see the birds resting on, or perhaps flying off from, that idealized statue, showcasing both its everlasting constancy in the everyday experience of modern men, as well the sense of forward motion echoing the prior "and on" -- with at last, the sensation of sound added to the symphony. One is enticed to imagine the image of flying birds around the statue -- not too far a stretch, logically -- due to the fact that they are singing. They are alive, in motion, living out their purpose. Here, the very concept of "aeterna" is transformed from something abstract and lifeless and pure to something natural and growing and living. Rome lives on, not only in dead memory, but in living acts and living experience.
These effects are not possible to accomplish in traditional rhythmic verse -- at least not easily and certainly not to the same extent. It demands an Imagist style, one dependent on slow recitation and strategic employment of long pauses, along with singularly dense usage of language: double, triple, or quadruple entendres, epithets, symbolisms, historical and mythological allusions, words with fixed meaning (so-called "codifications" or "pillow-words" or even "kata" in the dramatic tradition). No one before or since Crapsey has done this well in the English and her work is not only unknown, but very poorly understood.
The Epic of Sunjata: This is the national epic of the Bambara/Mandinke of Mali, passed down as an oral tradition for the last one thousand years. There are no poetic translations of it, since the French and English only began to bother with documenting the local cultures of Subsaharan Africa in the early 1900's, when the cancerous poison of Vers Libre had already killed off nearly all European poetic tradition. Only awful prosaic renditions or short sung excerpts in translation exist, but I will here put two videos to watch which inspired me to write the below introduction to the epic in verse:
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzZmg9p-DQY
(4.5K views; you should listen as a podcast as the original version was before the reupload with stock footage. Unfortunately the original upload is gone and I had not the foresight to preserve it, this appears to be an expanded version, the original was about half this length.)
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yOS78ul1_rA
(136k views; female griot singing in modern Bambara, Malian-American professor of the Keita lineage translating into pseudorhythmic English prose)
S.H.'s Thread Ratios: 1 / 0 / 3We are the Griots. Our tales of days of yore,
Forever etched in our memory's store,
Passed down through generations, shall live on
Till Men no longer wake to see the dawn.
From Alexander's rise and Egypt's fall,
To Songhai's birth and death, we've seen it all.
We are the memory of all mankind,
In verse, in song and string, our truth we bind.
We are the guardians of ancient lore,
Eternal as the sands on our north shore.
From ages old, we've held our post,
And shared our tales, from coast to coast.
Come! Come, you travelers, from lands afar,
To the Bright Nation of the Malian star,
Come and hear of the seven conquerors,
Of Lands of Gold, and wicked conjurers;
Come and hear of the twelve nations twain,
The thirty-two peoples, of their proud domain,
The birth of Mali, born of magic and of might,
Of tyrants slain, and kings in flight.
Hear of the Soldier-Sorceror, the tyrant-slayer,
A King of Kings, in justice and in prayer,
Of fallen Ghana's ashes, and of Sosso's fire,
Of mages' clashes and Niani's ire!
Come and hear of truth and of tradition,
Of courage, honour, and of ambition;
Of love and hate, of virtue and of vice,
Of promised fate and of self sacrifice.
Come and hear of Sunjata's story,
That of Mali's greatest glory!
Come here! And learn! For know the world is old –
The future springs but from the past untold.
We are the griots, whose songs and tales,
Preserve the memories, the trials and the wails,
The triumphs and the cheers, and all the rest,
Secrets of kings and queens, of slaves and of th'oppressed.
So come and hear! For we're the keepers of the flame,
The knowledge of the past, the glory of the same.
So come and learn! For we're the griots, the guides and sages,
The living word and burning fir`e of life's many stages.
You! Traveller! Who come to us and speak of truth,
Purporting to be a word-keeper – White Man's sayer-sooth –
Lover of books stone-dead and their unchanging pages,
Know that before you stands a wisdom of the ages,
That Truth is Power through a people's blood rages,
Not those mere numbers that your science cages.
Immortal as the deserts of the north,
Resonant as the sea whence th'western winds spring forth,
Mysterious as the forests of the south,
Cardinal as the plains – hark to Mali's mouth.
We, Griots, Djeli of Old Mali, Wielders of the Nyama,
Gift you one piece of Hist'ry's greatest drama.
For a good griot, though never deceiving,
Seldom unravels all of Hist'ry's weaving.
So come and hear of Sunjata's glory,
And learn of Mali's greatest story!
The Soldier-Sorcerer of the Bright Nation,
The Tyrant-Slayer, Bringer of Salvation,
King Among Kings, Sov'reign of the Black Peoples,
Uniter of Twelve Nations and the Thirty Two Peoples,
Last of the Seven Conquerors, Bow-Master,
Ruler of the Mandingo, Arrow-Caster,
Hero of Many Names – of whom the many sing.
This is Sunjata's tale – the tale of the Lion-King.
2024/08/25