e. e. cummings and the anthropocene

Previously our discussion of philosophy has led us to compare the way it uses language to poetry. Similarly, we’ve reflected on how we experience philosophy and how, similar to poetry, it articulates how one experiences the world in a difficult and engaging way. Robert Frost said that, “Poetry is what gets lost in translation” and I think that poetry, especially poetry that uses language in a unique way has a great to offer when it comes to the post human, the human and the anthropocene. These two poems by e.e. Cummings, to me, articulate the complexity of the human experience and especially how we experience nature. I hope you enjoy!

Some poems to consider:

no man,if men are gods;but if gods must

be men,the sometimes only man is this

(most common,for each anguish is his grief;

and,for his joy is more than joy,most rare)

a fiend,if fiends speak truth;if angels burn

by their own generous completely light,

an angel;or(as various worlds he’ll spurn

rather than fail immeasurable fate)

coward,clown,traitor,idiot,dreamer,beast-

such was a poet and shall be and is

-who’ll solve the depths of horror to defend

a sunbeam’s architecture with his life:

and carve immortal jungles of despair

to hold a mountain’s heartbeat in his hand

by e. e. cummings

'pity this busy monster, manunkind'

pity this busy monster, manunkind,

not. Progress is a comfortable disease:

your victim (death and life safely beyond)

plays with the bigness of his littleness

--- electrons deify one razorblade

into a mountainrange; lenses extend

unwish through curving wherewhen till unwish

returns on its unself.

                          A world of made

is not a world of born --- pity poor flesh

and trees, poor stars and stones, but never this

fine specimen of hypermagical

ultraomnipotence. We doctors know

a hopeless case if --- listen: there's a hell

of a good universe next door; let's go

E. E. Cummings