Two Dimensions of Poetry: Dolce et Utile

At the outset we emphasize that the title of this post points to only two of multiple dimensions of poetry, and the following observations scarcely elucidate the contours or hint at the densities of either.

1. Dolce – the pleasure in and of itself, whether in, from, through, the rhythms, rimes (and rhymes), meter – the sounds, the imagery, the internal and external enunciations, the patterns. A case in point: “Forms, flames, and the flakes of flames.” With this as its concluding sentence, Nomad Exquisite (Wallace Stevens) holds inexhaustible delights, and waits for us to visit, as our spirit moves us, always there (and here) to rekindle and restore past joys that merge into present joys.

2. Utile – the mirror of, the receptacle for, the affirmation and enhancement of, our understanding; and in reverberations, what some call “soul.” A case in point: “Whither is fled the visionary gleam? Where is it now, the glory and the dream?” Who would dare answer? How can we know the answers, or seek to seek them, apart from the questions; and where within us emerge the impulses to revisit, to repose, the questions?

Inevitability at the Brink

Around us, surrounding us, decisions and revisions to decisions abound. Invariably we decide “at the margin” based on where we are.  But how is it that we are where we are at decision-time, with our choices seemingly constrained by circumstances?

Now the above may strike us as  ponderous – at best – but a recognition of  its implications for public policy and comity, within and across borders, within and between groups,  is essential to an understanding that the choices presented to us, given to us, or selected by us from the data at hand, themselves reflect and emerge out of prior choices; and this emergence (ancestry) complicates and presses the moral imperative that we challenge ourselves to challenge choices at the moment.

The choices within the range, at the moment of choice, ought not to obfuscate the links that tie choices to choices.  We may need to take the past as we find it today, but we would be wise to appreciate that tomorrow’s past is today’s responsibility.

 

That’s What I Meant

While stepping up and down, and huffing and puffing, on a stair master at the gym, and reading this week’s New York Review of Books, a stanza from a poem I read in 1982 surfaced. Through my faulty memory I recall the stanza as:

–‘Tis hard to venture where our betters fail,
— Or lend fresh interest to a twice told tale;
— Any yet, perchance, ’tis wiser to prefer,
— A hackneyed plot then choose a new and err.

These lines reverberated as I found myself thinking, as I was reading the NY Review, “That’s what I meant. Oh, how he or she has written what I would have written had I the faculties and skill to organize and express my thoughts with such precision and grace.”

And, then, exhilaration at reading what seemed to be an excavation and presentation of latent thoughts, hidden and ineffable within my inner musings, began to sap my enthusiasm for venturing to express what predecessors and contemporaries have expressed before. The anxiety of influence? The urge for novelty? Could it be that what I have written is both good and original but, to paraphrase Johnson, the parts that are good are not original and the parts that are original are not good?

But, wait. Descent and subsistence come too soon. Our dignity, our individuality and inescapable autonomy, our will to assert, to act, to be a part, emerges, re-surges, and then reverses descent into lethargy, replaces lassitude, and propels ascent toward engagement, challenge and renewal.

Let others shrink before, and defer to, the received wisdom. I’ll take engagement any time.

Where We End Depends on Where We Begin – Ebola and International Reciprocity

Our observations on, and judgments of, human affairs depend, heavily, on how we frame and re-frame the subject(s) of our inquiry, and on the data we select, either purposefully or without recognition, to inform and support our views. The gravity and importance of this point bear vocalization, particularly because of forces (whether or not well-meaning) that obscure the role of selection among non-pre-ordained alternatives that, once selected, appear to lead inexorably to a conclusion cloaked in an objectivity that conceals the (un-selected) underlying alternatives.

An article in this week’s New England Journal of Medicine – “Ebola in a Stew of Fear” – powerfully relates the linkages of advances in Western medicine and healthcare to illnesses and their ravages elsewhere. I quote from the article:

“It was, in fact, a 1926 Harvard medical expedition to Liberia, undertaken on behalf of Firestone, that had brought my film team to the Liberia–Guinea border in 2014….. In 1926, the eight-member team had traveled for 4 months through the Liberian interior, collecting blood, tumors, urine, and photographs of diverse ethnic groups. Some people ran away when they saw these strangers. The routes the expedition traveled were those used by European and West African slave traders, white missionaries, and Liberian soldiers recently sent to conquer the interior. Why stick around when strangers had been such potent contributors to the local ecology of fear?…..

American medical research profited from the blood, parasites, and viruses collected on these expeditions. Such materials were the stuff of Nobel Prizes, professional prestige and fame, and medical breakthroughs that benefited people throughout the world. The 1951 Nobel Prize awarded to Max Theiler, a member of the 1926 Harvard expedition, for his work on a yellow fever vaccine, is one example. But biomedical research did little in return to help build medical knowledge and public health capacity within Liberia. When Liberian friends now post on Facebook links connecting the Ebola outbreak to past American biomedical research, they point to the history and memory of exploitation and extraction that run deep in West Africa. These roots of medical extraction in Africa contribute to the ecology of fear.

Modern medicine owes a debt to West Africans for past sacrifices made in the advancement of global health. This week’s announcement by President Barack Obama of a U.S. commitment to build 17 Ebola treatment centers in Liberia, train medical workers, provide testing kits, and offer logistic support is a welcome and needed response. It should be the start of a long-term, concerted effort to strengthen the public health infrastructure, which is critical to the region’s future stability.”

When we consider our “foreign aid,” we would do well to bear in mind that our aid is not a one-way street and the very conceptualization of “aid”, insofar as it connotes unilateral assistance, ought not to obscure the fundamental, tangible, and very real reciprocity that precedes and supports, enables and perpetuates, foreign aid.

Questioning the Every Day

We would render ourselves inert if we were to question most of what we take for granted. But the very phrase “take for granted” presupposes our acceptance of many fundamentals granted to us by someone or something else. If a core component of power is found in one’s ability to control another, then the ultimate power is a control whose influence is so deep and pervasive as to be unnoticed by the controlled subjects. How would they bridle against, yet alone revolt against, things that they take for granted? How would they question the status quo if it is “just the way things are”?

Now, we might challenge the foregoing observations as over-broad, further observing that natural phenomenon are indeed just the way things are. The sun always rises. But notwithstanding the challenge, and giving it its full due, we can recognize that many of life’s everyday understandings and practices are not embedded in a fixed, mechanical reality. Of course, blind faith and ubiquity, and the pressing demands and inclinations to “get along,” limit our recognitions.

Once we accept the gist of the above, we can begin a (necessarily selective) consideration of the power trade-offs reflected in the every-day practices that we take for granted.

What are the origins of practices ranging from (1) what we eat and do not (such as prohibitions on pork or beef consumption); (2) historic persecution of witches; (3) criticisms of pornography, drugs, etc., (4) the scope of criminal sanctions, (5) allocations of government dollars, (6) fashion in clothes, (7) heaven and hell.

Pausing to consider who benefits and who does not from any given practice is vital to promoting and enriching our individual freedoms and to holding ourselves, our institutions and organizations accountable.

Savoring (once again) Alexander Pope – a Brief Comment on Book Reviews

I read recently a book review that the reviewer must have written to exhibit his luminous intellectual prowess through ridicule of the dull author of the criticized book.

Reflecting on the thin and porous veneer of impartiality that the reviewer applied to his review, an urge to re-read and savor again Alexander Pope’s marvelous “Essay on Criticism” began to swell.

‘Tis hard to say, if greater want of skill
Appear in writing or in judging ill;
But, of the two, less dang’rous is th’ offense
To tire our patience than mis-lead our sense…

And with the above quote, the pleasures and instructions of this poem have scarcely begun. Dolce et utile.

How often we encounter reviews patently intended, not to guide us through qualities of the work being reviewed, nor to situate the work in a coherent context, but to highlight the reviewer’s breadth of learning and perspicacity. How often we wish the reviewer followed Pope’s exhortation:

But you who seek to give and merit fame,
And justly bear a critic’s noble name,
Be sure yourself and your own reach to know,
How far your genius, taste and learning go;
Launch not beyond your depth, but be discreet,
And mark that point where sense and dullness meet.

What Pope found true in the early eighteenth century, we find true today. Would that each review came appended to a review of the review.

The Pleasures of Acknowledgements

I recently came accross a book I first read when it was a raging sensation (circa 1978) in Hyde Park, prominently positioned at all the bookstores – and there were many back then – in and around the University of Chicago. Pride in a native son.

The genesis of “A River Runs Through It” is as fascinating and inspiring as the novel itself, and I cannot think of the book without rekindling the thrill of reading the Acknowledgement. “Although it’s a little book, it took a lot of help to become a book at all. When one doesn’t start out to be an author until he has reached his biblical allotment of three score years and ten, he needs more than his own power.”

With the thrill rekindled and lingering, I find myself recalling Acknowledgements, Dedications and Author Prefaces that continue to reverberate long after I first delighted in their stirring artistry.

A few that have reverberated consistently over the years (and I rely upon an imperfect memory):

1. “All that is meant, And that will be understood, Cannot be expressed in a dedication. This book is for Claire.” A glimpse into a deep and private love. Spare and voluminous. From Bork’s “The Antitrust Paradox.”

2. “Some people, once met, simply elbow their way into a novel and sit there till the writer finds them a place. Dick is one. I am sorry I could not obey his urgent exhortation and libel him to the hilt. My cruelest efforts could not prevail against the the affectionate nature of the original.” Lines that are infused with pathos and vitality in the work that follows. From Le Carre’s “The Honorable Schoolboy.”

3. And, finally, to close out this entry, I commend the entire oeuvre of Graham Greene. Quoting Leon Bloy in “The End of the Affair”: “Man has places in his heart which do not yet exist, and into them enters suffering in order that they may have existence.”

To would-be Literature PhDs in search of a dissertation topic, may I suggest, as a topic, an exploration of the jewels and gems within Acknowledgements, Dedications and Author Prefaces.

Professional Errors

Over more than three decades of legal practice, handling mergers, acquisitions, public and private offerings of securities, joint ventures, regulatory compliance and so forth, often in a context where participants have competing or unspoken interests and agendas, I have observed countless professional errors — some reflecting a lack of experience or knowledge; some reflecting misunderstanding or misapprehension of the implications of ambiguity; and some reflecting oversight. More often than not, the consequences are trivial and the adversities (if any) can be resolved.

Let’s clarify at the outset what we mean by “professional error.” We’ll start by an exclusion. We do not mean sloppiness that results in a sub-optimal outcome. In this regard, we cannot infer error from the occurrence of a sub-optimal outcome. A sub-optimal outcome may reflect an error or the sub-optimal outcome may occur notwithstanding an error-free performance by the professional. Conversely, we cannot infer the absence of error from an optimal outcome. The professional may have committed errors along the way that, in the event, did not make a difference to the outcome.

Let me further clarify: we are addressing medical, legal, accounting and similar errors. We are addressing errors that the professional has the ability, and aptitude, to avoid. We are addressing errors in a context of complexity where the error is not recognized at the moment it is committed (perhaps by commission or omission – or, most likely, oversight) and only after the fact becomes apparent to the professional.

The errors we address are invariably subject to remediation, albeit with costs, including, potentially, costs to the professional’s reputation. The errors may not be “fixable” (meaning, the slate cannot be wiped clean of the error) although the adverse consequences may be subject to mitigation, again (potentially) with costs that, but for the errors, would not have been incurred.

Finally, we are addressing a narrow subset of professional errors: the error recognized (initially) by, and only by, the professional who committed the error. We are addressing the context when the professional recognizes or begins to suspect commission of an error.

A final introductory point: the errors we are considering do not present themselves labeled as errors – they are not self-defined. They are errors because, at least for our purposes, the professional who “committed” the error(s) believes he has committed them. In this sense, the errors we are addressing are always subjective; they may or may not be viewed by others as errors. This potential lack of consensus is common, where decisions, omissions, or oversights occur within a complex swirl replete with unsorted data; where blame is beside the point; where the well-being of the client or patient is the point.

I will dwell no further on sources and manifestations of errors. The pressing question is what the professional should do when he or she recognizes or suspects an error?

Years ago I wrote a piece that addressed this question, and, having recently re-read it, I am comfortable that my recommendations remain as applicable today as a decade ago.

First, push aside any (natural) inclination to ignore the error. Disregard of the error will generally only increase ultimate remedial costs.

Second, consult a trusted colleague. If the recognition of an error generates consternation for the professional (as would be expected of a conscientious professional) then involvement of a skilled, experienced colleague will introduce a fresh perspective largely free of emotional bias that might skew the development of a sound remediation strategy.

Third, avoid self-flagellation. Easier said than done. Many decisions and judgements that we label as erroneous are not in fact erroneous in the common sense usage of the term. After all, we operate in a context of ambiguity and partial information. We may recognize the correlation or causal link of, for example, A and B (if A then B). But often the strength, trajectory and duration of the relationship presupposes the presence of C and absence of D. And we may have limited or no control over the presence, absence or extent of C or D.

Finally, for the skilled and creative professional, who acts with integrity and is committed to the patient or client, adversity is not (or should not be) a weight that suppresses initiative and engagement; rather, it is (or should be) an opportunity and a responsibility for the professional to “rise to the occasion” and to seek a creative and effective solution and resolution.

Fortitude, perseverance, creativity, integrity and passion, when fused together, become a potent antidote to most setbacks. Here is where lofty rhetoric animates and propels identification and implementation of solutions.

The Asymmetry of Poetic Emotion

Rarely do we offer declaratives on this Blog. They are generally simplistically misleading, empty, coercive or the like. They speak isolated from the contingencies and uncertainties of context.

May I diverge with a Saturday morning declaration: the emotional force of poetry is one-directional: poetry exerts its emotional force upward; and upward only. When spirits are high, poetry lifts them higher, and when they are low and sinking, poetry reverses the course, infusing our imaginations with a wonderment and marvel that rescue, restore and recover our spirits. When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, observed the Bard, I all alone be-weep my outcast state, And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself, And curse my fate…..but soon a lark will appear and sing hymns to heaven’s gates…we join with, and become one with, the Bard as we think of, remember, thy sweet love; and soon, stirred and inspired, calmed and ennobled, with that thought and memory, we scorn to change our state with kings.