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lawrence_retold's review
3.0
I think this may be where I get off the Rexroth train. After reading what was only the most explicitly homophobic passage in the fourth of five poems collected here, "The Dragon and the Unicorn" (which there were, really, plenty of hints of earlier in the poem), I no longer found the rest of the book something I could enjoy. That might be giving short shrift to the concluding "The Heart's Garden, The Garden's Heart", which I could easily see myself having appreciated in a different context, but, as it was, by that point I'd already lost too much respect for Rexroth to pay attention.
Looking back, too, I realized homophobia wasn't the only problem I had with "The Dragon and the Unicorn", which takes up more than half of the book. There's the matter of Rexroth's repeated focus on prostitutes in a poem dedicated to his wife, Marthe; there's the matter of Marthe's barely registering as a presence in the poem though she seems to be accompanying him for most of its narrative, despite his insistence throughout that love consists of experiencing the beloved directly as a subject; and there's his tendency to judge, swiftly, uncompromisingly and often quite harshly, what seems like every manifestation of culture he comes across during their peregrinations through Europe. It's a far cry from the experience of reality directly as that-which-is, an aesthetic I used to associate strongly with Rexroth's poetry.
The three stars I'm giving this book are mainly for "The Phoenix and the Tortoise", which expresses a mystical political vision I'd probably like to believe in myself, and the jaw-dropping "The Homestead Called Damascus", which Rexroth wrote as a teenager and shows every sign of poetic maturity. Despite its occasional disjointedness putting me in mind of something like [a:Michael Keith|4942770|Michael Keith|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/u_50x66-632230dc9882b4352d753eedf9396530.png]'s [b:Not a Wake|11701114|Not a Wake A Dream Embodying (Pi)'s Digits Fully for 10000 Decimals|Michael Keith|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1349060675s/11701114.jpg|16648300], and despite the hints it gives, made explicit in "The Dragon and the Unicorn", of Rexroth's seeming to be interested in women exclusively as sexualized beings, "The Homestead Called Damascus" is now my prime example of the existence of poetic prodigies.
Looking back, too, I realized homophobia wasn't the only problem I had with "The Dragon and the Unicorn", which takes up more than half of the book. There's the matter of Rexroth's repeated focus on prostitutes in a poem dedicated to his wife, Marthe; there's the matter of Marthe's barely registering as a presence in the poem though she seems to be accompanying him for most of its narrative, despite his insistence throughout that love consists of experiencing the beloved directly as a subject; and there's his tendency to judge, swiftly, uncompromisingly and often quite harshly, what seems like every manifestation of culture he comes across during their peregrinations through Europe. It's a far cry from the experience of reality directly as that-which-is, an aesthetic I used to associate strongly with Rexroth's poetry.
The three stars I'm giving this book are mainly for "The Phoenix and the Tortoise", which expresses a mystical political vision I'd probably like to believe in myself, and the jaw-dropping "The Homestead Called Damascus", which Rexroth wrote as a teenager and shows every sign of poetic maturity. Despite its occasional disjointedness putting me in mind of something like [a:Michael Keith|4942770|Michael Keith|https://s.gr-assets.com/assets/nophoto/user/u_50x66-632230dc9882b4352d753eedf9396530.png]'s [b:Not a Wake|11701114|Not a Wake A Dream Embodying (Pi)'s Digits Fully for 10000 Decimals|Michael Keith|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1349060675s/11701114.jpg|16648300], and despite the hints it gives, made explicit in "The Dragon and the Unicorn", of Rexroth's seeming to be interested in women exclusively as sexualized beings, "The Homestead Called Damascus" is now my prime example of the existence of poetic prodigies.
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