Est ce normal? De même j'ai proposé un échange à mimiche mais il me dit par Email qu'il ne le trouve. Est ce que c'est parce que le site à des difficultés en ce moment? Cordialement Daniel dc30 on Friday 19th June PM Pour Ludovic malgré vos récents efforts, la pratique du site devient de plus en plus difficile Ceci joint aux carences durables de la poste Que pouvez vous faire???
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Texte Obliterature - or obliteration of celebrity Literature? The literate, man of letters? Lets forget about literature, lets proceed to unliterature, obliterature, lets renew the old in favour of a neo-literature. Because this literature is so much politeness as Adabiat, the Persian word for literature implies , so much nicety and etiquette that keeps literature pure and orderly? So much reactivity?
So much stagnant gratification? Shall we think of the gratification of stasis, of stagnant literature, literary gratification in stagnant waters? This literature is finishing. This literature finishes. The authors of this neat and tidy Iranian literature advance in the service of an order a moral order, a religious, a political order of a regime, as their Persian literature retreats further and further backwards.
The Iranian literary regime chases after itself in a protected zone - a literary protectorate. Thus writers of this Iranian literature become law enforcers in the process of abiding by the law. One is not to defect the protectorate, not to take language beyond its neat and tidy boundary. As such, perhaps there never was a "literature" but treatises and paginations and illusions. End this illusion, we must.
Language has built and builds the groundwork of the world. To take a hand in this groundwork, to subvert the order of things, we take a hand in the foundation of the world; intervene in the order of things. Danger begins when the poet stands up and against the week-day language, the language of communication and conversation, against common usage, i.
Regimes wish to survive, want to remain, so they follow the popular rule, follow we the popular rule? A tongue that orders the hand? Who gives the orders? Orders what? Grammar, is a moral construct that determines the future of language, according to certain pre-given list of thou shalts and thou shalt-nots.
But poetry and the poet are there to alienate the order and the language of order, i. However, for the danger poet, language is not a means, but the end and object of work. Sanctity in Literature and Sacred Literature Sanctity, sacredness and sanctitude raise their sacred heads and bring the Word under their command. It happens that sacredness and sanctitude go under the question mark.
For instance, Shamloo came out one day and brought up the vulnerable truth, i. He himself became the subject of doubt, but the subject matter Fedowsi because of its enormous sanctitude never went under the question mark.
There are things that never go under question. Poetry intimates that everything, without exception is under question. The risk of poetry starts here. Social institutions define or want a defined poetry. But poetry is not wisdom and has no moral value. Poetry is not to write the seen. But speaking that which is not. To be other than this and to be that. Someone writes his land of risk into being and immediately sets risk against risk.
What happens? When we speak of danger hood , someone with us, within us, without us starts to speak. A voice comes: to write is to risk, to live in danger to live dangerously , in the con text of danger, and to go from text to text, to travel in this land of danger. One takes the other along being textualised , the unholy writ, the risk, the risk of the writ, that one is the other in the rip.
A close shave - being in danger, remaining at risk, speaking of risk. I lived in Riskdom, read: I lived in the writ. The risk is that of being and nothingness, the risk of writing, the risk of the cessation and suspension of writing. In other words, risk is lack of certainty. Risk is in this and that To live in Riskdom, is to live in the respite of the writ.
The moment of writing is the moment of risk. I lived in Riskdom and then? Either you unseat the danger, or the danger defeats you. You prolong the risk, or finish the risk, or the risk will finish you.
When danger is finished with, there no longer is any writ. Riskdom: when the writ approximates its origin. I lived in Riskdom. We are confronting the same experience. To his credit, the writ, the risk of the writ, and in danger, to risk the writ, is the innermost, deepermost experience. Here, experience, danger, dangerous experience, has no outer form. Risk, is to live with the text, to confront the text: to step onto the road to the unknown.
Danger is here: one writes something one has not written, that no one has not written, one writes the unknown, the unrecognised, from roads unridden, words unbidden, from lines unwritten and from juxtapositions untried, from forms unfabricated and from images unseen, one writes, to throw oneself into their fray.
Will one return? Will one write them? Will they write oneself? Will risk remain limited by risk? I lived in Riskdom: return and give your experience to the text. Return and put life in the context of risk, on the line. Risk is one off. Risk can come once and only once, come about. So, the incidence of the text, is this very touchline. The writ, is writing on this touchline of risk. Literature is right here, fear not! A door that is a word. A door that speaks and gives word to and becomes the other.
Talks to the other. Another door that is the other. Change and evolution begins in the text, and from the text. From here on, a revolution is shaping up in the text. What does it mean To table a new revolution in poetry?
Poetry of the Mother Tongue If mother is the tongue and we in it, then where would be the mother? Where would we be? Where are we? Where in the mother, are we? Where, our language? We are after-words, exiles, far-aways, what is our intersection? Mother, is our distance. So what is distance? Or who is it? Distance is the presence of the other, distance is in my being there and in your not being there or vice versa, distance is here and there, the distance of here and there, me here, you there, between us nothing but distance.
Mother is absent. Fast, far, late Where is the quickest place of call when the call reaches one, given the voice of someone? A call is heard at the limit of distance between two people, when the distance approaches infinity, word and speech, syllable and sound, drive time in to a different course: when the voice, the call, the call of a voice, is no longer heard.
To distance is to mediate and then to call forth the immediate. In this immediacy, that happens sometimes, literature offers the taste of pleasure. A secret that remains a secret Lets think of secrets and hermetics. A literature that writes the secret but does not divulge it. Lets bring democracy to bear here. The choice of why desire a secret or why not.
There is a literature that is written in code language and thus is mysterious. A literature that shares its secret with us, but what secret?
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Risk of Poetry
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