A Strange Beginning

The following three poems, and the commentary accompanying them, warrant some words of introduction. They were born out of a poem titled “Fabulous Blood.” The production, or perhaps discovery, of this strange piece was described to me by its editor and sometime author, Paul Dillenger. The work under this title is, however, not exactly an original. As I understand, he awoke one afternoon to find his apartment filled with the evidence of a night of inebriated composition. Both his bedroom and study were littered, along with various paraphernalia, with clothes, books, pens, and papers. In the papers on his desk, he found the remains of a poem. He had written it in pen and his handwriting was so poor, his corrections so numerous, that he could decipher only fragments of the original. After transcribing these, and reading them over numerous times, he determined that many of the lacunae could be filled by following an underlying structure of stanza and rhyme that he believed was apparent. He sent a copy of this reconstruction to both myself and Melinda Sachs, an old lover of his. I can only suppose that he sent it to Melinda and I because he did not think it fit for publication but was confident that we would be both annoyed and delighted with it. Years ago, when the three of us were living in New York, we used to meet once a week to study Greek lyrical poetry, much of which is preserved only in fragments. As a classicist, I was often piqued by Melinda’s attempt, as a poet, to supply the missing bits, while she in turn was, of course, disgusted by my unwillingness to “read between the gaps.” Now Paul was having a joke at our expense. Despite this lighthearted context, there is much of interest in the poem that Paul produced. Melinda and I both responded to his letter within a week; myself with a discussion of his bizarre use of editing techniques and Melinda with a good deal of criticism and another poem stretched gracefully around the framework of his original. Some months ago, we all met in San Francisco and I persuaded them to send me all of the letters that had been written in this correspondence with a view to publishing the poems in a new format with comments of my own. The following pages are the results of this endeavor.

I would like to thank Paul Dillenger and Melinda Sachs for lending me their letters and for permission to publish “Fabulous Blood” and “Wills Made,” which otherwise would not, I think, have convinced their authors to give them to posterity. The overall presentation and its many remaining faults are, regrettably, my own.

R. O'Hara
2000, Tahoe

 

 

Concerning a Critical Edition

My first response to Dillenger’s “Fabulous Blood” was a discussion of the way in which he had experimented with the techniques used for editing ancient papyri. Like the first editors of papyri texts, he eagerly supplied many of the missing words, separating his additions from the actual text with square brackets. His readiness to furnish what was illegible was so great, however, that I soon realized that his intentions went beyond those of an editor. There were other differences between his work and a papyri edition. For instance, he failed to denote questionable characters and he did not indicate the number of characters that he thought would fill the gaps. On a second reading, I saw that the mark “...” was used, in his text, to denote a missing syllable with complete disregard for the number of characters.

Since the idea amused me, I suggested that he send me the handwritten original so that I could make a true critical edition. I told him that I would include his readings in the critical apparatus along with other notes on the state of the original text. He ransacked his house and eventually found the document, crushed into a ball, in the bathroom waste bin. He gladly sent me the original poem, but stated that he was unsure a critical edition was really needed since, as he put it,

...the intention was not to make a critical edition so much as to draw the readers attention to the real form of the poem. I was using the punctuation of a critical edition as much to indicate the form as to distinguish between my original fragment and my later, considered additions. I was afraid that unless I noted the missing syllables many readers would miss the form that the poem was meant to have simply because it had failed to achieve it. (P. Dillenger, 2^nd letter)

My second letter to Dillenger was mostly a discussion of how my edition was progressing followed by an ill-advised foray into literary criticism, a discipline I have neither practiced nor enjoyed. I made a number of suggestions as to how Dillenger could rework his additions so that the poem could better fit into the structure which he claimed it had. I was especially vocal about those conjectures which I felt prevented the final result from having the form that he wished. I forgot that Dillenger’s work has a reputation for being technically proficient. He was gentle in his response; he never mentioned the fact that I had obviously misunderstood his objective. He simply stated that the poem was finished and had quite the form he intended; it merely did not have the form that it intended. He concluded his letter with some obscure remarks.

Its conflicts are internal; between kind and individual where both of these are defined, accidentally, in a single poem. Suppose a sonnet could never have a final couplet which did not rhyme, and that a poet - knowledgeable in the craft - had written such a sonnet, and that this sonnet were the only sonnet. (P. Dillenger, 3^rd letter)

The editorial marks contained in “Fabulous Blood” must be seen to serve a purpose somewhat different from what we could expect from a conscientious editor.

 

 

Fabulous Blood

...I can’t read much of my own handwriting,
but I have analyzed what remains of the poem’s
form and believe that I can use this to bring
forward something new... This is a strange use
of structure; to motivate without finality... acting
as a beacon, an ideal.

- P. Dillenger

@ n[ight ... w[hipping down through] the[se low hills, t[hrough a] fine drizzle, with the w[indow breath]ing a crisp hu[sh ... & the smoke wr[app]ing my hands & h[air	5
The low wh[eeze of the eng[ine ... the grace of the fre[eway ... becko[ns ... ... ... I’]m strapped in as I race up t[o its] deep curves, rum[bling	10
with brittle thrusts of st[eel ... ... swim]ing with cells, gli[ding by some w[hite ... som]e red. I gun i[t, sliding along] car st[acked lin]es. The po[int ... ... ...	15
...] of h[er entry is s[mooth ... I fin]d my lane, steep[ening in a cur[ve ... so] I draw back & [ease up the p]ad w[atching th]e blooming r[ed ...	20
...] shake [... & ] spread; & s[hooting up o]ver the [foggy] seas of l[ight, I] ride down with the slick p[edal. The wh]ole city rolls away clean unde[r	25
me; straining ...] hard [... ... ... against my [restraint] until & let my[self feel] the rush of the s[ky The wh]ole city rolls away clean unde[r	30
... ... ... in the smooth n[ight ... The overpasses sh[ake &] call under our [assault ... ... ...] a sw[eet ... ... murmur singing swift through the steel, singing	35
...] whole [... in]fra[structures ... econ]omies rippin[g high T]hrough w[ide] cities down fine, open v[eins ... I gli]de into the peak, full throttle sq[ueeze,	40
pou[red ... ... press[ed ... ... ... ... to my seat, almost fl[ying, floating, bo[red ... ... ... ... ... ... ... calm in all the charg[e ... ... ... ... ...	45
I float by over the dreaming city, watching the disease of all her children rush in the middle heat of new night, in the screams & thunder	50
of w[hirling shafts of ste[el ... ... warmed by artificial w[ill. Sweet [... ... ... ...] how I l[ove ... ... the jealousy of t[he ... ... ... ...	55
la[ughing ... gods of n[ight ... ... ... the]re will be h[ells ... ... ... ... ... t]o p[ay ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... bu]t these hell[s ... ... ...	60
our hells [... th]e little h[ells ... ... ... ... w]e kno[w ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...	65

Written and edited by Paul Dillenger
1999, San Rafael

 

 

To Blood and Back Again

Because Dillenger, in editing his work, has shown that over-eagerness typical of a first editor by supplying the text with more certainty than prudence would warrant, I have thought it good to describe the method of his reconstruction and follow this with my edition of the original that he sent me. In this way the reader may see the original possibilities of the text.

As far as I can tell, he wrote entirely in lower case with no punctuation. The capitals and punctuation of “Fabulous Blood” are based on the grammar of the reconstruction. The dots set off by brackets do not denote single characters, as is usual, but syllables; three dots indicating one syllable.

The title of the fragments is not “Fabulous Blood.” Instead we find “. . . . ]ills m[ . . . .” I have used “Fabulous Blood” for Dillenger’s edition and preserved the fragmentary title in my more accurate, although less interesting, emendation.

We are fortunate to have one stanza given in its entirety, lines 46 - 50, which I will call s. This gave him a stanza form built around a syllable count. Complete lines found in other stanzas support this hypothesis. Line 46, the first line in s, has 3 syllables as do two other complete first lines, 11 & 26. The second line in s has 5 syllables and is supported by line 2. The third line of s, 48 with 7 syllables, is supported by 3, 28, & 33. The fourth line of s, 49, is the only complete fourth line; it has 10 syllables. Line 50, the last line in s, also has 10 syllables and is supported by 35. The following table summarizes the syllable count of all complete lines.

Position in s	Line #	Supporting Lines	# of Syllables
1st	46	11, 26	3
2nd	47	2	5
3rd	48	3, 28, 33	7
4th	49		10
5th	50	35	10

There are no complete lines that contradict the stanza structure {3, 5, 7, 10, 10}.

Dillenger’s reconstruction of the rhyme scheme rests on more dubious grounds. As he admits, he was driven by the feeling that the poem’s structure was probably similar to that in one of his other works and so was searching for familiar themes. As he put it,

I thought it was probably one of my cyclic pieces, so in order to find the rhyme scheme I set out a table like I use when I’m coming up with a cyclic scheme. I set the columns one-to-one with the 13 stanzas and the rows one-to-one with the 5 lines in a given stanza. With one of these tables I can see the patterns of the rhymes geometrically as well as line to line. (P. Dillenger, 1^st Letter)

He assumes that line 25, ending with “under,” forms a repeat rhyme with line 33 (denoted by * in the table) and that “until” is a weak rhyme with “drizzle,” “little,” and “middle” (denoted by # in the table) and proceeds to sketch out the scheme as follows:

L\S

1st

2nd

3rd

4th

5th

6th

7th

8th

9th

10th

11th

12th

13th

1st

x

x

B

x

x

D

x

x

x

E

x

x

x

2nd

A

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

D

x

x

x

3rd

B

x

x

x

A

B#

C*

x

x

A

x

x

x

4th

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

B

x

x

x

5th

x

x

x

x

C*

x

D

x

x

C

x

x

x

He then assumes that this pattern is locally similar so that we can use the given structure to uncover almost all of the unknowns. If we assume similarity, we can say that B’s are found to the right of, and below, A’s; C’s to the right of, and below, B’s; E’s are above D’s; D’s above A’s; D’s are two columns to the right of C’s; C’s two columns to the right of A’s; D’s are two rows above B’s; A’s two rows above C’s; C’s two rows above D’s; E's two rows above A’s; and all these relationships are reciprocal. Using these statements we can label all but three of the cells in the previous table (S1L5, S6L5, and S11L5). It is then clear that these must all be E. This shows that each rhyming syllable moves up one line per stanza. Given that there are 5 rhyming syllables, the original scheme would have been as follows:

L\S

1st

2nd

3rd

4th

5th

6th

7th

8th

9th

10th

11th

12th

13th

1st

A

B

C

D

E

A

B

C

D

E

A

B

C

2nd

B

C

D

E

A

B

C

D

E

A

B

C

D

3rd

C

D

E

A

B

C

D

E

A

B

C

D

E

4th

D

E

A

B

C

D

E

A

B

C

D

E

A

5th

E

A

B

C

D

E

A

B

C

D

E

A

B

Dillenger advanced this scheme in support of his reconstruction and, if correct, it makes a case for some of his conjectures. It seems, however, given the evidence, far from certain and, even if we accept the scheme, we need not follow Dillenger’s actual choice of word or phrase. Moreover many of his additions are unrelated to the rhyme scheme and others come very near to violating it. Indeed this use of form is quite perverse - a fact which I believe tickled the author - because it is not followed with a view to an original whole. There are quite a few lines where it is difficult to see how the rhyme scheme could be satisfied and the sense of the piece preserved (1, 4, 5, 7, 8, 12, 17, 20, 21, 32, 36, 37, 39, 56, 61, 62). What is more, the reconstruction reads by leaping over missing words without pause for breath in such a way that the gaps could not be filled without disturbing the flow and intent of the whole.

For these reasons, it seems that the reconstruction given above is far from definitive. Below I have included the edition that I made from Dillenger’s handwritten original. Initially, I wanted to edit the text as though it were a piece of papyri. Unfortunately, this would have been somewhat deceptive. In the case of papyri fragments, the piecemeal nature of the text is brought about because the papyrus itself is in a state of decay while here the paper was in fair enough condition; it was the handwriting that was is a regrettable state. There were numerous problems with legibility. Some words were so badly scrawled that whole groups of characters have been lost, two or three corrections were simply written on top of one another, whole words have been thoroughly eradicated, and so forth. I have relied a good deal on Dillenger’s help in reading doubtful characters, however, in some cases I think that he is wrong. Where the readings of “Fabulous Blood” differ from mine they are noted in the critical apparatus. The readings that I give in the text reflect what I find in the original.

I have used an underline to indicate text of which I am in doubt. In places where I was uncertain, it was not always clear how many characters were involved so, instead of placing a mark under each questionable character, I simply denote the whole dubious stretch with underlined text. The number of dots in the lacunae give my best guess for how many characters and spaces would likely fill them. Two sets of square brackets that meet with an underline between them signify a small break in a field of illegible scribbling. Square brackets with a strikethrough indicate an illegible word that has been crossed out.

The apparatus is primarily a comparison of Dillenger’s reading with my own. I have rejected almost all of his conjectures except those which seem beyond doubt. In the apparatus, I have used the following abbreviations: F for Dillenger’s “Fabulous Blood,” and O for his handwritten original.

 

 

                     . . . . ]ill m[ . . .

@ n[ . . . . . . ] w[ . . . . . . . . . . . . .]these low hills t[ . . . . . . ] fine drizzle w/ the w[ . . . . . . . . . . . . ]ing a crisp hu [ . . . . ] & the smoke wr[ . . . ]ing my hands + h [ . . . . ]	5
The low wh[ . . . . . ] [ . . . . ] of the ang[ . . ] [ . . . . . . . ] the grace of the fre[ . . . . ] [ . . . . ] becko[ . . . . ]m [ . . . . ] str[ . . . ] ed in as i race up t[ . . . . . ] [ . . . ] deep curves run[ . . . . ]	10
with brittle thrusts of st[ . . . . . ] [ . . . . . ] [ . . . . ]ing w/ cells gli[ . . . . . . ] some w[ . . . . . . . . . . . . . ]e red i give i[ . . . . . . ] [ . . . . . . ] ear sl [ . . . . . . . . ]cs the po[ . . . . . . . . . ]	15
[ . . . . . ] of h[ . . . ] entry is s[ . . . . . . . ] [ . . ] [ . . . . ]d my lave sleep[ . . . . ] [ . . . .. . ] in a cur[ . . . . . . . . . ] i dive back & [ . . . . .] [ . . . . . ]ad w[ . . . . . . . . . . ]e blooming r[ . . . . . ]	20
[ . . ] shake [ . . . ] [ . ] spread & s[ . . . . . . . ] [ . . . . . ]ver the [ . . . . . ] seas of l[ . . . ] [ . . ] ride down w/ the slick p[. . . . . . . . .] [ . . .. . . . ]ole city rolls away clean unde[r	25
me straining [ . . . . ] hard [ . . . . . . . . . . . . ] against my [ . . . . ] [ . . . . . . . . ] until i [ . . . . . . . . . . . ]w it over my s[... ... & let my [... ...] the rush of the s[ . . . . ]	30
[ . . . . . . . . . . ] in the smooth m[ . . . . . .] The orange sex sh[ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ] call under our [ . . . . . . . ] a sw[ . . . . . . . . . . . . ] murmur singing swift through the steel singing	35
[ . . . ] whole [ . . . . ] [. . . . . ] tra[ . . . . . . . . . . ] [ . . . ]omies rippin[ . . . . . . ] t]hrough w[ . . . ] cities down fire open v[ . . . . . . . ] [ . . . . . ]de into the peak full throttle sq[ . . . . . ]	40
pou[ . . . . . . . . . . ] press [ . . . . ] [ . . . . . . ] y to my seat almost fl[ . . . . ] floating bo[ . . . .] [ . . . . ] [ . . . . . . . . .] calm in all the charg[ . . . . . . . ]	45
i float by over the dreaming city watching the disease of all her children rush in the middle heat of new night in the screams & thunder	50
of w[ . . . . . . . ] shafts of sl[ . . . . . . . . ] warmed by artificial [ . ] [ . . . . . . . . . ] sweet [ . . . . . . . . . ] how i l[ . . . . . . . . . . ] the jealousy of f[ . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ]	55
la[ . . . . . . . . . . ] gods of [ . . . . . ] m[ . . . . . . . . . . . . .] [ . . . ]re will be h[ . . . . . . . . . . . ] [ . . . ]o p[ . . ] [ . . . . ] [ . . . . . . ] [ . . . . . . ]t these hell[ . . . . . . . . . . ]	60
our hells [ . . . . . . ] [ . . . ]e little b[ . . . . . . . . . ] [ . . . . . . ]e kno[ . . . . . ][ . . . . ][ . . . . . . . ] [ . . . . . . ][ . . . ][ . . . . . . . . . . . ] [ . . . . ][ . . ][ . . . . . ][ . . . . ][ . . . . . . . . ]	65

Fragments by Paul Dillenger
Edited by Randy O'Hara
1999, San Rafael

 

 

Arguments Towards Another Poem

Sachs was unconvinced by Dillenger's redaction and her response was a critique of his results followed by a poem of her own built around the skeleton of his original fragments. The fragments that Sachs used are drawn from "Fabulous Blood" and hence differ from those found in my edition. She rejected the stanza form put forward by Dillenger and avoided any distinction between his "work" and her own.

The justifications that Sachs advances for her reworking of the poem are framed by an ongoing discussion between herself and Dillenger concerning the nature of poetry. Because this dialogue has continued for many years and is rooted, ultimately, in their different approaches as poets, many of their ideas are only briefly sketched in the letters that I have been able to peruse. I have included here only those ideas which are most complete and relevant.

The root of Sachs' disagreement with the poem that Dillenger presented was her belief that his technique was deceptive in its approach. She maintains that his technique attempts to force a reading of the poem that one would never normally make. He does this, in her opinion, by blurring his positions as editor and author. Sachs' complaint is that he takes neither of these roles completely and so puts himself in position to make demands of the reader which an editor or author alone could never make. On the one hand, if he is truly an editor he should have given us a critical text and apparatus, bringing us as close as possible to the original document. His edition, as I have shown, gives us no indication of how many characters might fill a given lacuna, which characters are questionable, variant readings, and so forth. In fact, Sachs claims his text is really just a formal framework built up around the fragments. Given only "Fabulous Blood," we don't even have any way of knowing if a line which appears to be complete was complete in the original; all we can really say is that the line had the number of syllables that Dillenger thought it should have and that it had no other characters of which he could be certain. On the other hand, if he is in a privileged position and does not need to supply a critical text, then it is not clear why he makes any distinction between his original fragments and his later additions. If the poem is meant to read as a unified whole, then the distinction between the original and the additions only detracts from its effect. If the distinction must be maintained, then the additions do as much damage to the form as they are shaped by it. This is because Dillenger's additions often work against the form. For instance, he may leave a single missing syllable which must be rhymed between two words that are read successively (for example see line 36), or he may leave an unfilled lacuna between a noun and its supplied adjective (for example see lines 34 & 35).

Sachs notes that while there are 18 lines that have been reconstructed to fit the rhyme scheme (2, 6, 10, 13, 14, 16, 18, 19, 21, 23 - 25, 29, 30, 38, 40, 43, 51, 53), there are 16 lines that cannot be fit to the rhyme scheme because of the reconstruction (1, 4, 5, 7, 8, 12, 17, 20, 21, 32, 36, 37, 39, 56, 61, 62). The situation with the stanza form is even worse. While there are 18 lines where following the stanza form contributes to the effect of the poem (2, 3, 6, 10, 13, 18, 22 - 25, 28 - 30, 33, 38, 40, 43, 51, 53), there are 24 lines where completing the stanza form would be disruptive to the piece as it stands (8, 15, 16, 20, 21, 27, 31, 32, 34, 36, 44, 52, 54 - 65). Of the 14 other incomplete lines, some of them could, perhaps, be completed without adversely affecting the whole but certainly the result would be different, and we would have a different poem. Sachs observes, in a somewhat annoyed tone, that given Dillenger's method of working, he would of course be aware of all these details.

You don't need me to point this out to you. I can just imagine how many different colored markers you must have used to diagram this piece out. But you can't use the punctuation of an editor to force a separation of the form from of the words. Simply because you place the words in an explicit formal scaffolding doesn't give the intended form a life of its own. The words can't be used as mere content; they will always have a structure constituted and informed by their own placement. The one is inherent in the other. (M. Sachs, 1^st letter)

Sachs believes that since Dillenger must have been aware of these difficulties, and still presented the piece as it stands, he attempting to force the poem's form and its content to take on separate roles and expressions. Sachs notes that he is using the techniques of an editor to bring the reader's attention to the conflict between the form that the poem does have and the form that it should have. She goes on to say,

You claim to be using form as an ideal that the poem hankers after even as it fails, but this cannot be true because the poem itself, and hence its form, adheres to the words, not their punctuation. The punctuation should merely guide the mind to the way the words are sung, like a score. If one splits a poem in two it will work against itself, it will be born flawed. (M. Sachs, 1^st letter)

Sachs goes on to maintain that if there is to be conflict in a poem it should be in the words as constituting the form; it should be the work of an author in command of the entire piece not a device introduced by a so-called editor. Dillenger responded that the punctuation was not intended as a device but rather, as Sachs said it should be, as a score. His more interesting claim was that the punctuation was necessary because it allowed the poem to be in a more fundamental conflict than would otherwise be possible: revealing certain attempts at completion as at odds with completion. I will quote his summary.

Even if the editor's punctuation were removed the poem would still fail to realize its form, it would just be much harder for the reader to see this - though some would. If I had used a traditional form, this might not have been necessary, but then I would not have been able to show the piece working against itself - with this method I could show that it really is, as you say, born flawed. (P. Dillenger, 2^nd letter)

Sachs' considered argument is a poem which is both an admiration and betrayal of Dillenger's fragments and is also, in her view at least, born whole.

 

 

Wills Made

...These fragments were a skeleton, not a frame;
they required meat for their perfection, not dry
wall and tape... Where you hear the siren of an
ideal I see the first blush of growth... You have
distilled the essence of a plucked flower but I
have caused the branch to bloom again.

- M. Sachs

@ near night winding slow through these low hills; the heat fine drizzle spreading with the waves breaking a crisp hustle & the smoke wrapping my hands & hunger;	5
The low whine of the engine & - long limbed - the grace of the freeway beckon. I'm strapped in as I race up through deep curves rumored	10
with brittle shafts of light, thrusts of stamena, pollinating the wet roads. Dancing with cells glistening by - some welcome red - I gun into the clean car-stacked lines; the pound	15
of her gasp with the entry is sweet when I dig in and find my lane, steep, perched slick in a cursive deep; I draw back & breath the lights, bright myriad, while the blooming roars	20
all shake in the full spread, & sweat falling over the placid seas slips fresh - salt tears of laughter. I ride down with the slick plunge. The whole city rolls away clean under	25
me; straining hard with fear - tight in the lurch against my damp hair - until, with a shrug I swallow it over my skin & let my flesh purr with the rush of the sudden	30
heart, beating in the smooth now; & even the overpasses shudder & call under our song - a swelling - a terrible murmur singing swift through the steel, singing	35
of how whole fraternities of law, love, blood & bone have set economies ripping life lines through watchful cities, down fine open vanities, pouring our pride into the peak; full throttle squealing.	40
I pound & press; I pour in deep to my seat, almost flooded - sweat stuck - floating - bound & floored - calm in all the charge; hung in the honest air,	45
I float by over the dreaming city, watching the disease of all her children rush in the middle heat of new night, in the screams & thunder	50
of waking to the fresh dark. Shafts of steel convolve. Flesh warmed by artificial want blooms in the sweet smells, & marks how I lounge, still silent. The jealousy of those who	55
laugh - who bend to mock - at the gods of night grinds to a slow conclusion. There will be hells to pay; but not these hells,	60
our hells, the little hells we know. There will be regret, and rain, and the open hand of fear.	65

Written by Melinda Sachs around
the fragments of Paul Dillenger
1999, Habana

 

 

Some Words in Passing

Whether or not "Fabulous Blood" was born flawed I cannot say. Certainly some things are so born. Sachs' claim that Dillenger's use of editing as a form of art is a device does not strike me as completely sound. On the other hand, her piece has the feel of a complete breath.

If, as Schlegel says, "many works of the Moderns are fragments the moment they come into being," then we are entitled to ask whether these fragments, unlike those of the ancients, are perhaps not the fragments of a single poem.

Randy O'Hara
2000, San Francisco