“A poem is the act of having an
idea and how it feels to have an idea.” Robert Frost scrawled those
words in one of the more than forty notebooks he filled with thoughts,
complaints, teaching ideas, and poem drafts over the course of his writing
life. The sentence was his own private remark, meant for no one but himself;
yet when I, nearly a half-century after his death, stumbled across the line, I
immediately, with a swift conviction of wonder and completion, recognized the
shape of what he, too, had so swiftly recognized. Yes, I thought. You have said
exactly what I have never said myself. You have said it, and I now I have heard
it.
In a later
notebook entry, Frost commented, “‘There there you are—you’ve said it’ is the
most influencing thing you can say to a person. Or I know exactly—you get it
just as I have felt it.” By means of this simple interchange, the speakers
share, in Frost’s words, “fellow feeling and common experience.” At
this instant, they are no longer engaged in instruction or chat, in argument or
even discussion. They are participating as equals in a conversation that has
crystallized around a suddenly shared perception. And that is exactly how I
felt when I read his definition of a poem.
I’m sure that you,
too, have been transported by a rare conversational moment when intellect and
emotion and attentiveness synthesize into a “fellow feeling” of not only
exquisite understanding but also exponential possibility. The conversers may be
parent and child or student and teacher; they may be colleagues or lovers or
accidental travel companions; they may be reader and poet, painter and viewer.
They may be any two human beings in any time or place. What is necessary is the
sense, whether actual or inferred, that one converser has articulated some
vital working of mind or heart and that the other converser has heard and
acknowledged a shared, intense comprehension.
3 comments:
I still recall those conversations- that barn- the people there. How conversation- discourse- is such an important piece of learning- and how those conversations carried over into my own practice. Hope to see you this June.
No way, Sheila! Are you really planning to come? This summer is shaping up to be outstanding!
Love the Frost quote with which you begin.
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