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>The diction of "Pale Fire" dips into poetic flabbiness with the
very
>second line ("false azure" indeed)...
It is amusing to find such a bold inanity coming from the very
citadel of square authority, the New York Times. One recalls (I
recall) Bosley Crowther's and Vincent Canby's bland dismissals of the
cinema classics of their day. And one imagines a Timesman's intrepid
encounter with other "difficult" works. For example:
"Your old virginity...is like one of our French withered pears, it
looks ill, it eats drily..."
"Your virginity", like a pear, EATS? Indeed.... (And will this author
condescend to mind his punctuation?)
"I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee acutely."
"Full of businesses?" Indeed....
"His tongue obeyed his hand"
Indeed. A droll but incoherent image. A hand can no more give orders
to the tongue than lend money to the other hand.
"Honesty...will wear the surplice of humility over the black gown of
a big heart."
Another ridiculous metaphor.
"What, pale again?
My fear hath catched your fondness."
"Hath catched" indeed.
"It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks."
Indeed. A chair that can hold mine would swallow three of another's.
____
"The false azure of the windowpane" is beautiful, but personally I
don't mind some poetic flab here and there. Aha-ing a glimpse of some
is the mark of a philistine. (Music critics are specially prone to
this.) Max Roach once advised an impeccable young jazz singer: "Make
some mistakes!"