Life keeps hurtling forward, bursting forth. It’s spring in California, the jasmine’s come in and the streaky roses. It’s been raining hard all morning; just now it stopped abruptly. Lyn writes in My Life, “she observed that detail minutely, as if it were botanical. As if words could unite an ardent intellect with the external material world.” This is Lyn, vitally observing, drawing it all into relation, the mind and the world, botanical, passionate. Making words hold life, making words as life. “Such that art is inseparable from the search for reality,” she writes.
Pastorius's 'Beehive'
A few days ago, Peter Stallybrass pointed me toward the digital edition of Francis Daniel Pastorius (1651-1719) work, His Hive, Melliotrophium Alvear or, Rusca Apium, Begun Anno Do[mi]ni or, in the year of Christian Account 1696. This work is a compendium of various kinds of "found" lore, a sort of precursor to Walter Benjamin's Arcades project --
Pastorius' commonplace book, usually referred to as the Beehive manuscript (from Pastorius' prologue, p. 1), is a compendium and alphabetical digest of knowledge including inscriptions, epitaphs, proverbs, poetry, Biblical citations, theological citations, quotations, a list of books he read or knew, copies of letters, and notes on science, useful herbs and other plants.
The Beehive is a foundational work of American poetics, even if few American poets know it. Key, as Peter pointed out to me, is the alphabetical index, the third volume, which enables a reader to find items scattered through the work, which consists of three volume of about 1000 pages. Certainly the index makes for a stellar, uncanny, found poem, more resonant for contemporary readers than Pastorius's own poetry.