01:30 PM to 02:45 PM MW
Section Information for Spring 2018
Ever wondered what it would feel like to be modern? Ever had a desire to be a Vorticist? Ever thought it would be cool to live in London (or New York) a century ago and writing cutting-edge poetry that people still enjoy? (Or to write a novel--and I kid you not--called The Snooty Baronet?)
In this class, we'll be looking at the way (mostly) English and American Modernist poetry created itself and had fun in the process. On the way we'll read Yeats, Pound, Eliot, H.D., Mina Loy and a cast of thousands. Well, maybe not thousands. But we'll look at a lot of cool stuff, starting with a poem that sounds like this:
The apparition of these faces in the crowd:
Petals on a wet, black bough.
(Pound, "In A Station of the Metro")
And taking in some Garcia Lorca on the way:
Sleep: nothing remains.
A dance of walls shakes the prairies
and America sinks into machines and tears.
I want the strong airs of deepest night
to remove the flowers and letters from the arch where you sleep
and a black boy to announce to the white golden ones
the arrival of the kingdom of grain.
(Lorca, "Ode to Walt Whitman")
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Credits: 3
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