Francis Ponge has been called “the poet of things” because simple objects like a plant, a shell, a cigarette, a pebble, or a piece of soap are the subjects of his. The Nature of Things has ratings and 22 reviews. The Voice of Things contains a number of texts by Francis Ponge, including the complete text of Taking. A poet long unread, Ponge has come into his own since the s with admirers from Sartre to Sollers. Sartre considered him the poet of existentialism.
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Normale zaken krijgen nieuwe lagen en dat is gaaf om te lezen. We think we are in paradise. Some thinhs were engaging and clear, but others seemed unnecessarily tiresome.
The Nature of Things – Francis Ponge – Google Books
Reading Ponge’s Soap many years ago turned me into a lifelong fan. Tell us about the last book or poem or both you loved and send it to poetry-at-therumpus-dot-net along with a brief bio and we will run the best of what we get.
Ghe Porte lives and reads in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Here we are, in any case, at the heart of pleonasms And at the only logical levelthat befits us.
To ask other readers questions about The Nature of Thingsplease sign up. Ponge schrijft en beschrijft alledaagse voorwerpen, vlice op een bijna metafysisch niveau. Apr 14, Ying rated it really liked it.
His diction is that of like an erudite pappy, a scholarly grandpa – he’d sit you on your lap and tell you about the aesthetics of Georges Braque’s paintings. No need, furthermore, to get out, Their variations being adequate to account For the marvelously tedious Monotony and Variety of the world.
The voice of things – Francis Ponge, Beth Archer Brombert – Google Books
With a friendly hand one still holds on to it, before closing it decisively and shutting oneself in – which the click of the tight but well-oiled spring pleasantly confirms. Lee Fahnestock’s translation of his first book seems both fluid and graceful. Then, while the substances consumed with method collapse, the escaping gasses are subsequently transformed into one long flight of butterflies.
Sounds banal, but every single poem in here will surprise you with unforeseen connections.
Common terms and phrases animal antennules appear artistic beauty become body Braque chosen color crasis Creative Method Cubism death desire dictionary dilection drawings earth eternal everything existence expression eyes feeling finally flowers Francis Ponge French Gallimard goat GRAND RECUEIL grass grave accent green ground hand heart hermit crab heroes human ideas Jean-Paul Sartre jumps kind leaf leaves less liquid living man’s marine confusion means merely mind mollusk moral moves nacre nature Nausee never Nouveau Recueil object once onomatopeias organs of circumspection oyster Pablo Picasso painting Paris Parti Pris pebble perfection perhaps Persian rugs Thimgs Sollers Picasso plants pleasure pleonasms poem poet poetic poetry Ponge’s prairie precisely prefix pres pret Pris des Thijgs remain reveal rocks Rodomont seems sense shell shrimp Sidi-Madani Silent World snail spiny lobster stone Taking the Side taste tion trees truth wave word writing.
The horizon, overscored with misty accent marks, seems to be printed in small letters, of darker or lighter ink depending on the light.
One can only compare the gait of fire to that of an animal; it must first leave one place before occupying another; it moves like an amoeba and a giraffe at the same time, its neck lurching, its foot dragging ….
I liked this translation a lot though to be fair, I have not read others. Until finally, everything sinks into my body and flies out through my head, rfancis though through a chimney open to the sky. Could we then pohge have reached the naos, Frnacis sacred place for a repast of reasons? And the page frqncis furthermore be brown. All of them, told.
Its leaf of gold stands impassive in the hollow of a little alabaster column on a very black pedice The Voice of Things longe a number of texts by Francis Ponge, including the complete text of Taking the Side of Things ; selections from MethodsPiecesLyresand The Prairie ; and a previously unpublished poem entitled “This Is Why I Have Lived” There is I think one “traditional” poem in the book and it is about a prairie – it’s pretty good 3.
The Nature of Things
I would sooner he had put that multitude to work on something no larger, or not much larger, than his own body or– which would have been even more commendable– that he had shown himself superior to other men through the quality of his own work. Because each caterpillar had it’s head blinded and blackened, and it’s torso shrunk by the veritable explosion from which its symmetrical wings flamed – From then on the erratic butterfly no longer alights except by chance of route, or just about.
Why become a sculptor? Ponge’s poetry though he would object to be calling a poet: His mother, a rock whom he resemblesmarried a field of flowers a painter who, I have been told, was the finest Swiss exponent of the Impressionist school ; she had three sons, like Switzerland herself: Account Options Sign in.
Taking a tube of green and spreading it on the page Does not make a prairie. Because each caterpillar had its head blinded and blackened, and its torso shrunk by the veritable explosion from which its symmetrical wings flamed – From then on the erratic butterfly no longer alights except by chance of route, or just about. He expresses seriousness in a joyous, often insouciant style. Account Options Sign in.
Their immobility produces their perfection, their depth, their beautiful ornaments, their rich fruits”. My library Help Advanced Book Search. Ponge is not something that you necessarily read straight through insomuch as you dine on his works over a period of time. On occasion night revives an unusual plant whose glow rearranging furnished rooms into masses of shadow. Kimberly Dark Swinging Modern Sounds Ponbe, while the substances consumed with method collapse, the escaping gasses are subsequently transformed into one long flight of butterflies.
No way out of our original onomatopoeias. No trivia or quizzes yet. I feel this has been reproduced with love and understanding. Would you like to write for The Rumpus? Red Dust- Poetry – 52 pages.