E. Tracy Grinnell: From 'body of war / songs' with a note on the process
After Danielle Collobert
the crowds
evisceral subjects sun-setting
in the sun
clashes waste
depopulating fray
afraid
hurled
_____________________
the revolt
executed
in spasms
projected
projectiles
human or plastic
embraces
shadows grounding
succumb
in flashes of emptiness, rhetoric
galleries of disaster
so the remove
of frozen images
subterranean
habitation of
because earth absorbs shock
waves
hands absent horizons
knock
impotently against
the walls
around
_____________________
the deep tombs, sink under
stones arranged
the stones and gold
light
from another source
pierces the front
of solitude
the passage
suffering
encircles
infiltrates
the reflection of an abyss
in the morning
frost
_____________________
futility mirrors
the inertia
of the face filtered
through an obsolete
medium
the wind
brushes
hands, raised
carries off voices
raised
what we hear of it
the nightmare
sounds off
the infant is born
into an aging infantry
carried aloft
against the earth
inscribed
on again
against a cliff’s edge
temporal
inflammatory
the fire nourishes
by what it consumes
____________________
attention of destruction to
cradled into uncertainties
the corpsman logs
what lays before
him
torrential forces
force of machinery’s
hard certainty
searches the seas
peopled with the coins
of our present
gardens
are erasures of
penetration
immovable figure
situated
equivalent
deaths
of heros
who are
they
errant mutations
achieved
Note. On “body of war / songs”
In 1961 Danielle Collobert self-published an edition of poems titled Chants des guerres. Some years later, she attempted to destroy all copies of the book. I came to these particular poems via It Then, via her Notebooks 1956-1978, and recently Murder, first as reader and then as editor/publisher. After the recent release of Murder (translated by Nathanaël, published by Litmus Press), I went back to Chant des guerres to read them in the original French (they are not translated into English). “body of war / songs” is that foray into reading her early poems.
As with my other explorations/experiments in translation, I consider translation a mode of reading, and/or reading a mode of translating, and both as a mode of writing. “body of war / songs” is very much after Collobert, temporally, as homage, but also as exploratory translation. Initially, I ‘faithfully’ translated the terse minimalist poems, leaving spaces for words I did not know. Then I translated some of these spaces, using a dictionary, or making a homophonic translation. Then I simply wrote through the text as if it were my own. Words shifted, altered, moved across the page, filled in, departed.
There are a couple things that interested me about this process of translating/creating – that Collobert’s writing was so familiar to me, that the words, the syntax itself, felt familiar. Not just because I have known her work since 1998 or so but because of poetic affinity, of writing the body in/into the poems. The sense of body, of the alienation of our bodies even in community. A sense of bodies moving through the world and touching / not touching. The remove. Also, it struck me that these poems written in 1961 could have been written now, or at any time in the last 50 years: what has actually changed? War is an ongoing, perpetual, mode. How pressing that these poems – Collobert’s – know this. It presses, as relevant, but also as pressure to write it, rewrite it.
In some ways, the distance between my poem and hers, the distance in time, in language, in other removes, between our poems and the wars they address, is also the distance between ‘zone’ and war zone. The remove of the U.S. from the carnage it enacts, the remove under which we in the U.S. are able to move about. Under drones, yes, fearful in the face of a lack of agency or ability to alter, yes, but with a very different sense of security. So when the carnage punctuates the remove, as it did in Boston most recently, we must translate this proximity into compassion, empathy – a deeper level of comprehension.
[E. Tracy Grinnell is the author of Some Clear Souvenir (O Books, 2006), and Music or Forgetting (O Books, 2001). An excerpt from Helen: A Fugue was published alongside Leslie Scalapino’s A Pear / Actions Are Erased / Appear in volume #1 of Belladonna’s Elder Series (2008). New and recent work is collected in the manuscripts Hell Figures, portrait of a lesser subject, and All the Rage. She is the founding editor and director of Litmus Press.]
Poems and poetics