Shel Silverstein presents: Poetry as a Comic?

thinker-silverstein

Without any serious opposition, I think I can say that Shel Silverstein is one of the most well-known poets of modernity. Whether it’s been a decade(s) since you flipped through his volumes with sticky fingers, giggling with your friends as a kid or you still relax with his antics before bed after a long day, Silverstein remains recognized foremost as a poet whose material often caters to children. As his poetry collections show, he’s a rather proficient cartoonist as well.

This leads me to the ambiguous nature of Silverstein’s work “The Thinker of Tender Thoughts” (as seen above). Aside from a title, the work is entirely composed of drawn images. What makes this more than just a “drawing” is the fact that these images are depicting action or a narrative, so we can agree that their sequential positioning is important to the whole. On their own, these figures don’t posses meaning, at least not the meaning that Silverstein is attempting to portray.

The piece lacks any formal “panels,” but this  “action-to-action” progression of “icons” is very relatable to the medium of comics (here I used Scott McCloud‘s comic vocabulary). As I noted, there is a narrative that unfolds when the viewer follows the standardized left-to-right up-to-down pattern recognized by English speakers. This isn’t a requirement of a comic but a sense of progression and inter-connectedness between the images is.

Here’s where I think the implications get interesting. Comics and graphic novels have carried a very dark stigma in culture, particularly in that of the Western world. They’re seen as childish and dorky, something to be outgrown. Silverstein’s work is primarily thought of as being directed towards children, so his use of cartooning and this comic seems to fit the stereotype, right? Yet I can’t help but look at “The Thinker of Tender Thoughts” and feel like I relate to it infinitely more than I ever could have as a child. It details a man who changes himself to fit in after being ridiculed by peers, which we can all surely relate to at all ages (particularly in youth when peer pressure is said to be at its highest). But if this was truly written for a child, wouldn’t it be expected to teach them to embrace their uniqueness and not be a blind follower? No higher form of morality is offered, and in fact the man is smiling for the first time at the very end after he has conformed.

It’s a rather hopeless ending.

Syntax in Songs: Death Cab for Cutie

Seeing words on a page and hearing words in a song evoke different experiences that highlight different elements of language as written and spoken. Syntax (according to its definition as “the arrangement of words and phrases to create well-formed sentences in a language”) reveals meaning more rigidly defined by punctuation than it is as free-flowing speech, and sometimes the meaning behind a phrase changes entirely depending on where a simple comma is placed. This is what makes Death Cab for Cutie’s song “I Will Possess Your Heart” so magical in my opinion, whose chorus carries such a weighty word play. Not to mention the beauty and poetry behind the lyrics as a whole, but to be fair I’m biased as a great fan of theirs.

So let’s look at the chorus, which I’ll transcribe without punctuation for the sake of this little activity:

You gotta spend some time love
You gotta spend some time with me
And I know that you’ll find love
I will possess your heart

Now let’s look at what punctuation does, when matching the punctuation pattern of the first couplet with the second:

You gotta spend some time, love
You gotta spend some time with me.
And I know that you’ll find, love
I will possess your heart.

According to this reading, “love” is used as a pet name to address the speaker’s subject. The interjection of this address emphasizes the enjambment at work between these lines, but it also portrays a casual speaking pattern (which is more evident when spoken aloud as intended).

Now let’s look at what punctuation does again, when only adjusting the third line:

You gotta spend some time, love
You gotta spend some time with me.
And I know that you’ll find love,
I will possess your heart.

According to this reading, “love” is used as a pet name in the first line but changes to mean literal “love” in the third line. Before, the speaker says that “you’ll find…I will possess your heart” while this reading says that “you’ll find love, [AND] I will possess your heart.” Although theoretically this doesn’t mark a drastic change in meaning, the two sentences are not the same. It’s possible for someone to possess your heart without finding love in the process, yet the opposite is also a possibility.

This ambiguity achieved through the word play on “love” makes the chorus extremely well-crafted and well-written, obviously for me enough to be extremely impressive as well. Perhaps not everyone who listens to this song will find it as mesmerizing and epic as I do, but perhaps there are some who know exactly what I mean and felt this song speak to them as strongly as I did. Either way, I’ll continue sitting here listening and losing myself in the language and always catchy tune that Death Cab promises.

Electronic Publishing and the Communal Experience

With the technological advances society has seen in recent decades as well as the rise of personal electronic devices, the debate about the reader experience between print publishing and electronic publishing is everywhere. Fundamentally, books (and more specifically novels) are connected to the ancient cultural practice of storytelling. Philosopher Walter Benjamin comments on the breakdown of oral storytelling with the rise of the novel, which was built on the intense experience of the individual versus the previous explicitly group activity. However, the novel allowed for a greater group experience through the mass production of a physical book that united the solitary readers; thus, leading to the observation that just because a story is said aloud doesn’t make it communal and just because it’s written down doesn’t remove it from this tradition.

So, I started thinking about the rise of electronic publishing and the formatting of eBooks, etc. On first thought following the logic of novels being farther reaching than storytelling, material on the internet is even farther reaching to the majority of demographic groups and has easier accessibility than the printed book. Now there’s instant (and often free) access to a vast library of materials from the comfort of your home or office. But it seems that another issue arises in the way in which we can annotate and follow along with others with these texts. A group of people can have the same version of the same text on different devices, such as a laptop, an older kindle, a newer kindle, and a tablet, and the way the sections of text appear can be vastly different. This isn’t too far from everyone having a different publication of a physical book, but it seems easier to find a passage as you’re flipping through a book than endlessly scrolling on your device. Which leads me to another claim that a professor of mine stated (I’m just going to hope for the sake of my argument he’s correct on this): when we have a physical copy of a book our brains remember where certain passages or actions take place based on being the left or right side of the book as well as the positioning on the page. Personally, I do this a lot when trying to find something I read, knowing that it appeared on this side or that. However, when you’re reading on an electronic device it typically is produced as one page at a time, making this memory connection impossible.

Essentially, everyone is still receiving the same information, but the format becomes less communal than printed work. I find it harder to follow along with electronic copies of material, but some people seem to prefer this method. Perhaps this is my bias for the good old fashioned pages in my hand, but I think this spacial information gathering has interesting implications for publication.

Language in Lyrics: Cradle of Filth

In grade school, the most exciting part of the poetry units our teachers often dragged students through kicking and screaming was finally getting to lyrical poetry. Of course, we were more interested in literal song lyrics than actual poems. Who doesn’t love music? Everyone was eager to share their favorite songs with the class, without a second thought as to what actually constitutes poetry in lyric form. I’m not going to delve into the impossible (in my opinion) task of clearly delineating what makes lyrics poetry in a song versus what is simply a song, if such a division even exists. But, there’s one modern band in particular that I think has a profound significance in this discussion of lyrics as poetry and even more so the use of language in the genre of music. What makes this band an even more interesting conversation piece is their often controversial content as well as belonging to the largely misunderstood and criticized metal genre (black metal/gothic metal in particular and as applies here). Of course, I’m talking about Cradle of Filth.

As you can quickly find with a simple Google search, Cradle of Filth is an English “extreme metal” band that formed in Suffolk in 1991. Extreme metal: an umbrella term for a number for related heavy metal music subgenres as developed from the early 1980s, usually referring to a more abrasive, harsher, underground, non-commercialized style or sound. Here’s a few excerpts of their lyrics that I find particularly poetic:


Her Ghost in the Fog

The Moon, she hangs like a cruel portrait
Soft winds whisper the bidding of trees
As this tragedy starts with a shattered glass heart
And the mid-nightmare trampling of dreams
But oh, no tears please
Fear and pain may accompany Death
But it is desire that shepherds its certainty
As we shall see…
She was divinity’s creature
That kissed the cold mirrors
A queen of snow
Far beyond compare
Lips attuned to symmetry
Sought her everywhere
Dark liqoured eyes
An Arabian nightmare…

Nymphetamine

Cold was my soul
Untold was the pain
I faced when you left me
A rose in the rain
So I swore to thy razor
That never, enchained
Would your dark nails of faith
Be pushed through my veins again


Cradle of Filth was given the honor of being included in the Millennium Dome’s Museum Of British History as an example of old language in modern usage of literature and lyrics, furthermore as a poetic achievement. A video presentation included in the museum’s display even featured 10 seconds of their song “From the Cradle to Enslave.” I think it’s pretty self-evident that a heavy metal band being positively featured in a cultural museum for their use of language is a pretty big deal for the genre. More than just being written in an elevated poetic form, the significance of Cradle of Filth’s lyrics is that they incorporate the archaic language (correctly might I add) that forms the roots of modern English.

I encourage those further interested in the band, as well as lovers of Nardwuar’s entertaining antics, to check out this interview done with Cradle of Filth (NSFW, some might find the material offensive):