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This brief report examines the role poetry plays towards the road to recovery as witnessed through the experience of a poetry writing mentor when analyzing the poetic works of prisoners who participated in Pen America's Prison writing program.

ALTHOUGH VICTORIAN REVIEWERS uniformly praised Elizabeth Barrett Browning for the “sincere” poetic voice of Sonnets from the Portuguese, they often blamed her for faulty craft. In structure and rhyme scheme the poems in the sequence recall the Petrarchan tradition, suggesting the idealized love that accompanies it, yet their varied syntax and diction seem more conversational than ideal. Enjambment usually destroys the integrity of octave and sestet. Then in the Sonnets Barrett Browning continued her use of odd rhymes, which had been raising critical eyebrows since earlier poems. For example, in the most famous sonnet — XLIII, “How do I love thee?” — Barrett Browning rhymed the noun phrase “put to use” (9) with the infinitive “to lose” (11) and rhymed “faith” (10) with “breath” (12). Victorian reviewers, somewhat disoriented, offered a variety of explanations for these apparent technical lapses. Some attributed them to a defective ear for music (“Review of Poems” 278; [Massey] 517).1 George Saintsbury — taking the lead from the controversy over the “cockney school” of poetry — reproved Barrett Browning, born to the educated classes, for relying out of laziness on vulgar pronunciation to force rhymes instead of taking the time to discover correct ones (280–81). Even her poet-friend and correspondent, Mary Russell Mitford, wondered if isolation at Wimpole Street had led to an overly narrow experience with proper pronunciation of English (reported in Horne 458; see also Hayter 38–39). Victorian reproofs and anecdotes like these followed Barrett Browning’s work into the formalist twentieth century.

The prologue to Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz s Primero Sueno is a clearly delimited unit of 150 lines, entitled “Noche y sueno del cosmos” in the Sabat-Rivers edition (pp. 435-39). It begins with a baroque scientific evocation of night as the shadow, shaped like an Egyptian pyramid or group of obelisks, that is cast by the dark side of the Earth upon the Moon and into stellar space by a revolving Ptolomaic Sun. The narrative focus quickly shifts from astronomy to the sub-lunar world of our Earth, where nocturnal birds and bats still flit in growing silence as fish and animals and birds everywhere go to sleep. The 146 hendecasyllables and heptasyllables in silva form, with their complex syntax and run-on lines, lead up to these four simple lines, without enjambment, that serve as a remate or coda

In my earlier examination of the phenomenon of taḍmīn in Arabic poetry, I attempted to show how it evolved from the status of a defect into a poetic device. But I could not at that time offer any explanation that would reasonably account for this development. Moreover, I have come to realize that my treatment of the term as referring to those instances where the full meaning of an idea started in one line emerges only in the succeeding line(s), viz. enjamb-ment, did not adequately account for its subtleties; and, more importantly, it ignored other phenomena which are also subsumed under the term, though they have no obvious connection with enjambment. It is precisely these lacunae that I intend to fill in the present study. For purposes of analysis I will designate the over-running of lines as ‘grammatical taḍmīn’ since the relationship in such cases is either syntactic or semantic, although still other, subtler relationships within this broad classification are demonstrable. The term is also used for cases where a poet deliberately quotes, with or without indication, from poems or statements by others: this will be discussed under ‘rhetorical taḍmīn’. Yet another use of the term arose from the introduction of philosophical thought into theoretical speculation, specifically in the area of scriptural interpretation: this I will designate as ‘hermeneutical taḍmīn’.

Discussion of interaction of metre and syntax in Greek tragedy

Using examples from Shakespeare’s early, middle, and late plays and from his Tragedies, Comedies, and Histories, this chapter charts developments and explores patterns in Shakespeare’s dramatic verse line across the genres and time span of his writing career. It examines incidences of end-stopping and enjambment, mid-line breaks, shared, short, and long verse lines, considering the ways in which these relate to the subject matter of scenes and may function as a means of reflecting a character’s emotional or mental state. The chapter draws on evidence from Renaissance prosodic accounts, printed texts, theatrical papers, and evidence relating to early modern theatre practice and considers the ways in which the features of the dramatic line are interpreted by modern theatre practitioners.

Since the first conference devoted exclusively to La3amon's Brut was held in Lausanne (1992), we have seen a steady flow of publications on the poet and his poem. Most of those on the poem itself take as their starting point the text of the Caligula manuscript (BL, Cotton Caligula A. ix), if only because the other surviving manuscript, Otho (BL, Cotton Otho C. xiii), was seriously damaged in 1731 by the fire in the library of Ashburnam House, which ruined so many manuscripts of the collection of Sir Robert Bruce Cotton. A mere glance at a La3amon bibliography will show that the Otho (O) version has been used mainly to point out the differences between it and Caligula (C), for example in vocabulary.1 In a study, many years ago, of the way in which La3amon gradually developed his metrical style, I too concentrated on the Caligula text.2 In my present article I want to look at a number of aspects of the poem all in one way or another related to its versification, and consider the impact on these of the changes made by the Otho reviser:1. Both the C and the O manuscript are written continuously, and both indicate use of a type of punctuation that marks the middle and the end of every verse. But to what extent do the punctuation systems of C and O match?2. In recent years several studies have demonstrated that the metre of the Caligula Brut is a complex mixture, drawing on a variety of optional features, for example alliteration, rhyme, assonance and lines with no connecting device at all. When the Otho adaptor changed words and phrases, and even entire passages, did he then pay attention to these aspects of the poem?3. One of the most significant features of Old English poetry was its use of enjambment, with the result that we see a disparity between the metrical unit, i.e. the two half-verses that make up a line, and the syntactical unit or the clause, which could be much longer. How does La3amon's Brut behave in this respect, and, once again, do C and O agree?When dealing with the last two topics, the C and O versions will be compared with more or less contemporary poems like The Soul's Address to the Body or The Proverbs of Alfred in order to try and plot the position of the Brut in the poetic landscape of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.PunctuationIn his ground-breaking article on the liturgical influence on Old and Middle English punctuation, which he modesdy subheaded "A Preliminary Study", Peter Clemoes showed that positurae began to appear as original punctuation in vernacular English prose in the tenth century, and regularly punctuated the text of Psalters in the twelfth.3 The most important of these, for our purpose here, were the punctus elevatus between half-verses and at the close of the verse the punctus versus. Positurae "primarily indicated intonation", but, according to Clemoes, it was "inevitable" that they should become associated with "particular grammatical constructions". Gradually this type of punctuation found its way into English vernacular writing through the homily.4 In both versions of La3amon's Brut, where the line is divided by a marked caesura in the middle, the punctus elevatus marks this caesura and a simple punctus marks the end of the verse.5 Similarly, M.B. Parkes, in his monograph on punctuation, also connects the punctuation in the two manuscripts of La3amon's Brut with that of the Psalms.6 Recently the idea of liturgical influence on Old English punctuation has been modified by Daniel Donoghue, who points out "the indifference of Anglo-Saxon scribes to visual cues like punctuation only when they were copying Old English verse", and not with Latin or Old English prose.7 In his view punctuation, or pointing, is associated with both metrical and syntactic features, because in the Beowulf manuscript "most points come at a specific juncture of metre (end of the second half-line) and syntax (end of clause)".8 Still, whichever of the two approaches one favours, the basic function of punctuation is to contribute "direcdy to the communicative intention embodied within a text";9 in other words, to assist a "consumer" in reading the text properly and understanding it correcdy. …

Between Ennius and Vergil the Latin epic hexameter underwent dramatic changes in both prosody and diction.1 The precise history of these changes remains obscure, although it is clear from Catullan spondiazontes and Lucretian archaisms, from variation in the use of enjambment and the history of Hermann's bridge, that the versatile and expressive instrument the hexameter was to become in Vergil's hands was not the result of linear development. In fact, despite the pivotal role often assigned to Cicero, 2 in many ways the last one hundred years of the Republic is better characterized as a period of poetic variety and innovation than one of linear progress toward classical perfection. The fragments of Furius Antias can shed light on this period of change. They show remarkable prosodic characteristics and verbal finesse, and they appear to have influenced both Vergil and Ovid.

In the early twentieth century, traditional Europe fell apart. Out of the chaos and uncertainty fostered by World War I grew Modernism, a movement marked by drastic breaks from the traditions of Western art and culture (Abrams 202). Through this schism, Modernists found the freedom to forge their cultural future; for Modernist artist and poet Mina Loy, this freedom allowed her to forge a cultural purpose for her “mongrelized” ancestry. In Anglo-Mongrels and the Rose, Loy allegorizes her Hungarian-Jewish father, her English-Christian mother, and herself as Exodus, the English Rose, and Ova, respectively, to illustrate not only the chaos to be found in cross-cultural marriage, but also the artistic freedom and beauty to be found in its consummation and procreation. In my essay, I argue that Loy’s frequent use of discordant imagery, pauses and enjambment within her verse suggest the fragmentation of Exodus’s Hungarian-Jewish identity in his attempts to assimilate to English culture and identity through marriage to the English Rose. Out of the discord of their union grows Ova, an ungendered, dehumanized entity that represents the uniting of her parents’ cultures in “mongrelized” human form. Through my exploration of Anglo-Mongrels and the Rose, I demonstrate that Ova’s creation of a new poetry allegorizes Loy’s belief that the fragmentation of nationalism is a necessity for the birth of a new twentieth century culture.

In prose, the lines run from one margin of the page to the other; in poetry, it is the poet who decides where the line ends. Fraser writes about blank verse: "... we might often be uncertain (particularly when the sense is run on from line to line, without punctuational pauses at the end of the line) how the lines divide. This is what Dr. Johnson meant when he said that English blank verse is often verse for the eye" (29). (1) If this were true, it would apply even more to free verse. Indeed, the surrounding empty space that indicates line endings in printed verse is not available in vocal performance. I claim, however, that just as white spaces break up the series of black marks on the paper into smaller perceptual units whose end may or may not coincide with the end of syntactic units, in aural perception, certain vocal devices may break up the text into versification units, and even indicate conflicts of versification and syntactic units. Indeed, Dr. Johnson does grant what Fraser is tacit on: there are "a few skilful and happy readers of Milton who enable their audience to perceive where the lines end or begin." In vocal performance, there are other means to indicate line ending: first of all, "punctuational pauses"; but also intonation contour, and some more elusive cues, such as the lengthening of the last speech sound or syllable, or overarticulation of the word boundaries, e.g., by inserting a stop release or a glottal stop where appropriate. Such cues may act in conjunction--indicating unambiguous continuity or discontinuity; or in conflict--indicating continuity and discontinuity at the same time. In this article, I will explore the possible mismatches between language and versification in poetry. It is a case study of a short piece of free verse, by the great Hebrew poet Yehuda Amichai. [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII] 1. Rain in the Battlefield It's raining on the faces of my comrades; On the faces of my live comrades, who Cover their heads with the blankets-- And on the faces of my dead comrades, who Don't cover anymore. The adjectives "live" and "dead" are restrictive, whereas the "who"-clauses are nonrestrictive. Consequently, the phrase "live comrades" already suggests that they are contrasted to some other group of comrades. The nonrestrictive relative clauses, by contrast, though antithetical, merely give some additional information on the two groups of comrades. The parallelism of lines 2 and 4 points up the indifference of the rain as to whether the soldiers are alive or dead. It is their response that makes some difference--but no big difference either: These comrades cover their heads, these comrades don't. This trivial difference stands in opposition to the momentous distinction between life and death; hence its effective irony. The rain and the covering of faces may be construed as an instinctive gesture to cope with the hard circumstances soldiers must face. Looking back, then, from lines 4 and 5, the metonymy for discomfort becomes a metonymy for life and death. For Cleanth Brooks, "irony is not the opposite of an overt statement, but 'a general term for the kind of qualification which the various elements in a context receive from the context'" (Wellek 329; Brooks 171). The ironist pretends to know nothing, not even that he is ironical. He merely describes what he sees, with no patent purpose, as it were. Now, suppose Amichai wrote: 2. It's raining on the faces of my comrades; On the faces of my live comrades, Who cover their heads with the blankets-- And on the faces of my dead comrades, Who don't cover anymore. Some readers feel a considerable difference between the two texts. It is as if in Excerpt 1 the irony were subtler than in Excerpt 2. Notice, however, that the semantic and syntactic information are literally identical in the two versions. The difference is generated by the mismatch between syntax and versification. …

With regard to the question how enjambment should be rendered in the recitation of poetry, three conflicting approaches may be identified: continuing into the next line without marking the line-ending at all; making a break in the intonation and rhythm at the line-ending; and finally, acknowledging the line-ending by merely introducing a short pause without any intonation changes. Each of this renditions has different consequences for the listener's perception of the text. This paper reviews the three approaches and their implications, concluding that the most imprtant criterion for the preference of one approach over another is the type of verse (free vs. metrical) in a given text. V zvezi z vprašanjem, kako uresničiti verzni prestop pri izgovarjanju poezije,je mogoče opredeliti tri različna stališča. Po prvem naj bi govorec zanemaril medverzno mejo in nadaljeval, kot teče misel; po drugem naj bi zaznamoval prehod iz enega verza v drugega tako s premorom kot z intonacijskimdvigom, po tretjem pa naj bi mejo sicer označil s kratkim premorom, vendar brez intonacijskih sprememb. Vsak od omenjenih načinov govorne uresničitve ima drugačne posledice za poslušalčevo dojemanje besedila. Pričujoči članek preuči vse tri pristope in njihov vliv na učinkovanje besedila; sklene se z ugotovitvijo, da bi bilo pri odločanju za taali oni pristop potrebno upoštevati kot glavni kriterij, ali gre v danem primeru za svobodni ali metrični verz.

Comedic Cohesion: Clive James's New Verse Translation of The Divine Comedy dante. The Divine Comedy. trans. Clive James. new York: Liveright. 2013. 527 pp. isBn 978-0-87140-448-0Clive James's new translation of dante's The Divine Comedy is-in the wake particularly of his Cultural Amnesia: Necessary Memories from History and the Arts (2007), which em- braces in capacious catholicity now tacitus, now tony Curtis, and that book's intellec- tually comedic "prequel" Cultural Cohesion (2013)-brisk, bracing, and irreverent. the grand caprice of Cultural Amnesia and Cultural Cohesion shares the caveat-cum-diktat of James's introduction to his Opal Sunset: Selected Poems, 1958-2008-"in a culture going weak with forgetfulness, to be memorable should be the aim" (27). that was James's message tout court in Cultural Amnesia, his essayistic encyclopedia of a raid against con- temporary culture's forgetfulness of its inheritance. now James has continued that raid, not by tell but by show, in his Commedia: this is memorable James, and should en- dure, for the contemporary english-speaking world, as most memorable dante in per- fect cultural cohesion with James's own prosodic reticulations against cultural amnesia.Readers of James's poetry will know well that, from 1958, he has shown a mirth- ful propensity for the joy of the slant rhyme in a manner that is, yes, brisk and brac- ing. But in James's Commedia, a preponderance of slant rhymes not infrequently contorted into enjambment uninvited by dante's own syntax, alas makes for some- times ponderous going. this is no philologist's cri de coeur of mine, but too often James's slant rhymes are too clever by half.James plunges into dante with quatrains in such shapes as abab or augment- ed into ababa or ababab: he foregoes terza rima for workmanlike quatrains whose rhythms allure straightway. so "A sea of trouble came to troy in ships" (Inferno 81; 29) and fueled-and/or was fueled by?-"the fire started when he [paris] kissed her lips" (Inferno 83; 29). such rhyme's reciprocity as this is what we've come to love about James throughout his fifty-plus years of poetic output.But some of James's slant rhymes, so often zigzagging betwixt and between so many liberally enjambed quatrains, can gravel: some of those rhymes are super- f luous at best, supercilious at worst. the tongue-twister James makes of Inferno XX.122-24 defeats me (98):Asdente, toothless soothsayer. said soothHe'd sooner now have foregone, like his teeth,And made more shoes, his trade, and only truth.James has always made a point of poetry said, poetry speaking: indeed, in the introduc- tion to Opal Sunset, James singles out Larkin's poems as "compulsorily sayable," adding that "it was [Larkin's] profusion of sayable poems that made him a poet" (19). Apply- ing James's own sound logic about sayable poetry, just how does one say the verses just quoted? or take the following lines from Inferno XV.93-94: "What Fortune wishes, i am ready for. / Your forecast is not the one i haven't heard" (75). the next two verses jar in a different way: "Let Fortune turn its wheel at will, and more: / Let the hick hack with his mattock" (75). it was shelley who spoke of dante's music as "a chaos of inharmonious barbarisms"; James at times renders the inharmonious too barbaric.it is in his verse-shaping, his artful enjambments, his bathetic-meets-pathetic canto endings and canto beginnings where James most excels. Witness the conso- nance of sound, sense, and meter at Inferno Vi.32-39 (32):[. . .] no matter where i turnedWere the tormented. this was Circle three,And here there was no fire, and nothing burned.instead, a dark cold rain falls heavilyForever.James's tense-choices are brilliant: "turned" is almost imperfective, hovering be- tween the habitual and the inceptive; "tormented", meanwhile, is something of a stative perfect, yet somehow habitual, too, conjoined as it is with "Were"-yet also pivoting on the aoristic aspect of sudden, startled scrutiny. …

Enjambment may be defined as the continuation of syntax and sense across line junctures without a major pause. The two-part study analyzes the large number of mostly unbalanced and non-parallell lines in Thr 1-4 in terms of this poetic phenomenon, describing the degree to which it is used, the various forms it takes, and the effects it has on our reading of these poems. The first part presents a taxonomy of the major kinds of enjambed lines found in Lamentations, while the second part turns to a discussion of how enjambment is exploited rhythmically and semantically in these poems. While enjambment is clearly subordinate to parallelism as an intralinear linking device in Hebrew poetry, still, when present, it deserves some comment. And in the case of Thr 1-4, where enjambment within the couplet may effect, as I contend, roughly two-thirds of the couplets, some kind of explanation of the phenomenon is required. By whatever name, the combination of the lack of parallelism and the prominence of run-on sentences is integral to the prosody of Lamentations.

The paper discusses enjambment in Greek poetry, offering detailed statistical analyses, esp. for Euripides. It argues that some types of enjambment are constrained, and that the degree of constraint gives indications on the style of delivery of Greek poetry expected of ancient performers, in different genres and times.

El concepto de encabalgamiento es inseparable del concepto de transgresión; para que ésta exista, necesariamente tiene que oponerse a una norma. En este caso la norma consiste en que la naturaleza del verso exige una pausa al final del mismo, al igual que en el discurso cuya división semántica y fonética corren paralelas. En Structure du langage poétique, Jean Cohén demostró el alto valor expresivo de la figura mencionada y el aumento de la transgresión de la pausa versal, en términos cualitativos y cuantitativos, a través de tres periodos de la literatura francesa: Clasicismo, Romanticismo y Simbolismo. Partiendo de una formalización mejor matizada del encabalgamiento versal que en Structure y de un corpus más riguroso (inclusión del Barroco y de la poesía lírica exclusivamente en todos los periodos), demostraremos una evolución equiparable en la poesía española a la constatada por el teórico francés en la poesía francesa; tal evolución la corroboramos estadísticamente. The concept of enjambment is inseparable from the concept of transgression; for transgression to exist, it must necessarily posit itself against a norm. In this paticular case, the norm states that the nature of the verse line demands a pause at its end. In Structure du langage poétique, Jean Cohen brought to the fore the high expressive value of enjambment and the increase in the rate of transgression of the verse pause, both in quantitative and qualitative terms, through three periods of French literature: Classicism, Romanticism and Symbolism. Starting from a formalization of verse enjambment which offers more explanatory power than expounded in Structure and from a more comprehensive corpus (including Baroque and lyrical poetry from every period), we will prove that there exist in Spanish poetry an evolution quivalent to the found in French poetry by the French theoretician; this evolution will be statistically supported. L'enjambement est inséparable du concept de transgression, et celle-ci doit s'opposer à une norme qui, à son tour, provient de l'exigence d'une pause à la fin du vers. En Structure du langage poétique, Jean Cohen prouva le haut degré expressif de cette figure et l'accroissement de la transgression, du point de vue quantitatif et qualitatif, dans trois périodes de la littérature française: Classicisme, Romantisme et Symbolisme. Nous partons d'une formalisation de l'enjambement plus nuancée que dans Structure et d'un corpus plus rigoureux (inclusion du Baroque et de la poésie lyrique exclusivement) afin de prouver une évolution comparable dans la poésie espagnole constatée déjà par le théoricien français; on corrobore telle évolution statistiquement.

Poets sometime rhyme the end of one line with the beginning of the next, create rhyme at the caesura, or employ some other form of the phenomenon generally known as internal rhyme. End-rhyme, however, occurs much more frequently and is what people normally have in mind when they use the word rhyme. Similarly, enjambment, while it may bridge a caesura within the line, principally involves line endings. Yet, even though the two devices are commonly associated with the same position in the line, they are rarely discussed together. This reluctance is understandable, for the chief functions usually assigned to them are diametrically opposed. As Zhirmunsky once stated, rhyme, broadly speaking, represents an aspect of the poem’s ‘sound instrumentation’ — that is, the way in which sound similarities and identities are introduced to create an aesthetic effect.1 To the extent that rhyme joins groups of lines together, and in particular creates recurrent clusters (stanzas), it also helps structure the work. Enjambment belongs to the realm of poetic syntax rather than sound. More importantly, it is in one sense ‘anti-structural’: when enjambment occurs, that syntactic unit (the phrase or sentence) does not come to an end with the rhythmic unit (the colon, the line, or the stanza), but instead is carried over to the next.2

Building upon the groundbreaking work of Milman Parry and Albert Lord, Out of Line presents a new theory of Homeric composition, focusing upon patterns that extend beyond the boundary of the line and the clause. Matthew Clark takes enjambment as a starting point, analyzing the techniques used by the poet to complete a line that begins with a runover. Clark proceeds to propose two levels of analysis, a 'deep-structure' level, which describes the associations of words and ideas before they take metrical form, and a 'surface-structure' level, which describes the words as they are employed on any particular occasion. Out of Line combines formulaic and metrical analysis, expanding the study of Homeric meter both in practice, by taking into account larger compositional structures such as entire scenes, and in theory, by using the results to test models of formulaic composition. This book is important for students and scholars of Homer, epic, and oral literature.

In his prose note to the confessional long poem, Listening to the Candle: A Poem on Impulse (1992), Peter Dale Scott anticipates that some readers "may be puzzled, or even disappointed, by this poem's relationship to its predecessor Coming to Jakarta." To them he offers the promise of a third and final long poem (the forthcoming Minding the Darkness) toward which Listening to the Candle is moving. This is a modest gesture, for Candle is already potent, both in itself and retroactively, as it shores up the work of Coming to Jakarta by expressing the personal, poetic, and spiritual counterparts to the political testimony so prominent in the earlier poem. As an autonomous artwork, Listening to the Candle is a vividly intelligent portrait of a man - poet, activist, intellectual, and husband - coming to terms with the life he has lived, summoning his friends, both living and dead (almost each section of the poem is dedicated), in gratitude and the spirit of forgiveness. It is a continually surprising memoir, largely because of Scott's steadfast refusal, enabled by his practice of Zen meditation, of the cliches of recollective poetry, namely, regret and achieved wisdom. Listening to the Candle is also a sustained meditation on poetry, a poem crowded with poets and poetic quotation, that discursively reveals Scott's retrospective understanding of Coming to Jakarta's poetics. In that earlier poem, Scott was notably reticent about his faith in poetic knowledge, despite Coming to Jakarta's astonishing reinvigoration of poetry's moral authority in an age of prose. Scott's twice locating Coming to Jakarta's genesis in the failure or difficulty of his pose account of the same events to find a publisher (II.iv, p. 24; IV.i, p. 102) implied that poetry is a testifying genre of last resort. This presentation of poetry as secondary and distinct to a certain extent misdirected the reader away from the poem's substantial and deft interweaving of poetry and prose, an interweaving that is most overt in the marginalia, but which also is evidenced formally and stylistically in Scott's chosing to denature prose fluidity by means of enjambment and syntactic inversion, and to embed meticulous description and analysis within a stream-of-consciousness voice. The story Listening to the Candle tells of Scott's coming to poetry, his apprenticeship under the guidance of Dante, Pound, Rilke (masters of the long poem and unified sequence), the formation and refinement of his poetic ideas, goes a long way to explaining this intermingling and the arresting blend of cocktail parties, childhood scenes, and precise political documentation that is Coming to Jakarta. In Scott's now more explicitly stated view, it is "precisely poetry" that has the capacity to break down the denial and the false boundary between personal and civil life that permit covert forces, such as those that promoted the 1965 massacre of 500,000 Indonesians, to operate unchecked. Listening to the Candle testifies to the perfect consilience of Scott's political, spiritual, and poetic methodologies. As a trained political scientist, Scott finds the traditional definition (pluralist and Marxist) of politics, as a system of overtly identifiable interactive forces, wanting. In his work on Indonesia, the Kennedy assassination, the Iran-contra connection, and the drug wars, Scott traces points of contact between conventionally acknowledged political actors and unacknowledged, even actively repressed, areas of political activity (such as CIA covert operations and organized crime). His Zen way (which possesses more force and efficacy in Candle than its belated invocation in Jakarta allowed) seeks enlightenment, achieved by a discipline of bringing to mind what the mind has hidden, both dark and light. …

PREVIOUS STUDIES of enjambment in Homeric verse have posed a variety of questions, such as: What are the types of Homeric enjambment? Do the differences between Homer's practice and that of later poets help to demonstrate that the Homeric epics were oral compositions? What is the relationship between enjambment and sentence structure? And recently the methods of discourse analysis have been used to call into question the very status of enjambment in Homeric verse.1 In this paper I will investigate the larger lexical context of enjambed single words and short phrases. In particular I will be interested to see what role such runover words and phrases play within the Homeric system of formulas. My argument requires a few technical terms. The enjambed word or short phrase I will call a runover. The word or words just before the runover I will call the dux, and the word or words just after the runover I will call the comes; the fundamental concept of this study is binding, which is simply the probability that two words will occur together.

The importance of poetry as the chief aesthetic experience of the Arabs as well as the principal repository of materials on their life and thought had long been recognized by the Arab and, following them, non-Arab students of Arabic culture. The fact that all the technical terminologies of Arabic verse which were formalized in ‘ilm al- ‘aruḍ(Prosody) are derived from the components of the bedouin tent—a highly prized possession—indicates the significance of the art to the Arab mind. The pride of place enjoyed by poetry in Arabic literary thought derives primarily from the hieratic idiom associated with it, as well as from its structural coherence, which relies on the harmony of prosodic factors (al-‘awāmilal-‘arūūiyya) associated with poetic praxis.

Enjambment has been ignored as a metrical force by most contemporary prosodists. This article seeks to define enjambment and its domain and to explore its implications for current theories of meter, especially Halle and Keyser's generative analysis of lambic pentameter in English stress (1971a). The conversation poems of Coleridge and Wordsworth are used as illustrations of verse in which run-on lines alter the rhythmic contour by establishing a new stress maximum slot in position 10. My data suggest that the definition of stress maximum must be altered to accommodate enjambed sequences. Furthermore, enjambment appears to be a ‘prime’ of metrical style.

Bland considers Gower's artistic merits by looking at three stories: the tales of Ceix and Alceone (Book 4), Jason and Medea (Book 5), and Lucrece (Book 7). The first of these stories demonstrates Gower's skill in linking all scenes with natural transitions: "Gower is forced into using none of the cliches which Chaucer employs in linking the parts of his version" (286). Gower is also less melodramatic, avoids digressions, and prefers action over conversation and thought. At the same time, he includes some "delightful" (287) poetic touches, as when he describes the floor of Sleep's house as being strewn with dreams (287). The story of Jason and Medea further demonstrates Gower's "metrical skill" (287). His use of the caesura and enjambment results in lines that show "briskness and vigour" (287). Gower's "unadorned directness of style" (288) lacks Chaucer's "frequent brutal abruptness" (287) and demonstrates instead the clarity and polite speech of aristocratic society. Not only does Gower show "classical" (288) restraint where Chaucer has "tap-room vigour" (288), but Gower is also a romantic. He loves exotic and mysterious locations and he is deeply interested in Medea's magic. In describing the latter, Gower quickens the pace by introducing trochaic lines among the iambic ones. Lastly, the tale of Jason and Medea reveals Gower's mastery of the verse paragraph (288). In the next section, Bland compares Gower's tale of Lucrece with Shakespeare's version. Where Shakespeare's story is "a psychological study" (289), Gower focuses on action. Bland observes that "at the time when Gower wrote men were not in position to understand fully the nuances of character and of personal relationships, except under the guise of allegory" (289). Bland ends with some comments on the framework of the CA. Given courtly love's conventional emphasis on adulterous passion, it is inevitable that Book 8 is a kind of recantation. However, Gower becomes anti-climactic when he follows up his revelation of Amans's old age with a didactic prayer for the state of England. Gower's flaw, then, is that he is a good teller of stories, but lacks the "genius" and "intelligence to support a long poem" (290). He ranks second to Chaucer as "a master of a plain style" (290), despite the fact that he is often merely prosaic. [CvD]

The paper highlights a multitude of observations and different perspectives on enjambment in Petrovic's writings on a verse, which were later complemented in a correspondence with a foreign colleague, enabling complete characterization of this theoretical term. Petrovic wrote about enjambment as a poetic process on different occasions; segments of various papers used as argumentation for literary-historical situation and the effects of verse semantics stand out, as well as two comprehensive papers dedicated to the enjambment problematics. There is a tendency to thoroughly define the term relative to the existing definitions; the difference between the usual sense (acceptable in practical use to most of those who engage in poetry) and the extended scope of the term; polemic with previous understandings and interpretations, in particular, on the one hand, on the issue of specifying historical development, and, on the other hand, on the issue of the presence of enjambment in the oral folk verse.

El presente trabajo es un análisis exhaustivo del encabalgamiento en los sonetos de Ancia (1958), poemario de Blas de Otero (1916-1979). Se analiza, pues, un fenómeno estilístico muy concreto en una forma poemática de gran tradición con el fin de observar el uso específico y original que el autor hace de este y, de una forma más general, plantear una vez más qué es y cómo funciona el encabalgamiento. This essay offers an exhaustive analysis of the enjambment in the sonnets of Ancia (1958), Blas de Otero´s collection. Therefore, an extremely specific stylistic phenomenon is analyzed in a poetic form from a long tradition, in order to focus on the concrete and original use that the author make of it and tackle general issues regarding enjambment, its definitions and its uses. Ministerio de Educación EDU/1868/2011

Since Seascape: Needle's Eye (1972), George Oppen's verse has been characterized by certain features of syntax, punctuation, lineation, and line-grouping that combine to make construal difficult and to make the texts open to diverse syntactic interpretations in a way they could not be with complete sentences, conventional punctuation, and metrical divisions in accord with syntactical boundaries. The features in question are, briefly: frequent use of fragments; almost complete absence of conventional punctuation and capitalization; frequent intralinear syntactic boundaries together with frequent enjambment, including enjambment of the final lines of line-groups, these last two features combining to undermine and submerge both line and line-group as units. It will be helpful in investigating the operation of these features to consider them especially in their interrelation, in accord with the notion of "grammetrical patterns" developed and applied by Roger Fowler and others in Fowler's 1966 collection, Essays on Style and Language, and employed by Donald Wesling in his 1971 study of "The Prosodies of Free Verse."' I agree with Charles O. Hartman that the relation or "counterpoint" of two elements, such as syntax and lineation, can of itself constitute a prosody,2 and with Alan Golding that

An intuitive reading of "Prose" (we will come back to it in greater detail) shows the unusual accumulation of phonic groups in each line, their repetition in a given stanza and their reprise in other stanzas having a synonymic or antonymic signification. So that this phonic insistence imposes itself as the preponderant organizational principle in the text, which goes so far as to eradicate the subjacent metric processes (ceasuras, enjambment, quatrains, octosyllables, etc.): in the so-called free verse and after, this phonic network remains as the only constraint, unconsciously exercised, rather free on the whole and inherent to language, which restores a unity to the process. Statistical, or even probabilistic, studies of the frequency of phonemes in a text relative to the frequency of the same phonemes in everyday language, uphold the notion that poetry uses the typical sounds of a language more and that it emphasizes their presence while suppressing raresounds (See Jiri Levy, "Mathematical Aspects of The Theory of Verse," in L. Dolezal and R. W. Bailey, Statistics in Style. New York: American Elzevier, 1969; pp. 95-112), while other studies dispute this finding (See Bailey, "Statistics and the sound of poetry." Poetics I, 1971; pp. 16-37); but the principle of the accumulation of phonemes, as well as the structuring role which the distance (the gap) between two occurrences of the same phoneme plays in the poem, no longer seem to be disputed (See H. SpangHanssen, "The Study of Gaps between Repetitions," in For Roman Jakobson. The Hague: Mouton, 1956; pp. 492-502). One can observe, through this research and in Mallarm6's text itself, that the repetition and the redistribution of the phonic and semantic potentialities proper to the language produce new structures of signification. But we can go further. If repetition accentuates the semiotic role of the phonematic code of a language, repetition also tends to cross over the limits of what one understands by a phonematic or morphophonemic code. The crossing occurs in two directions. On the one hand, the increased frequency of a given phoneme, or the accumulation of phonemes of a single group, or the drifting between phonemes of neighboring groups, produce an effect which is foreign to the common usage of the natural language; they tend to move, not toward a universal phonetism, embracing all languages,' but rather toward a pre-phonematic, shall we say phonetic, state, which can be observed in children who have not yet acquired the sounds of one language but are capable of producing all possible (non-linguistic) sounds. On the other hand, each of these phonemes carries semes with it, so that the morpheme or the lexeme to which these phonemes belong is dislocated, and the phoneme, acquiring semantic value in the process, tends to constitute a semantic constellation made up of all the lexemes containing this phoneme. The first of these directions divests the phoneme of its phonematic character, as an element of a system of distinctive traits, and reconnects it to the phonetic, that is to the articulating body: initially the articulatory apparatus and then, through the drives (pulsions), to the body as a whole. The second direction, on the contrary, utilizes the distinctive, phonematic character of the sounds of the language to establish agreements, one could say applications (in the logical sense of the term) between semes belonging to different morphemes or lexemes. The mixed func

I t is not infrequent these days to find in critical studies of Quevedo allusions made to a certain resemblance, especially in the moral, metaphysical and amorous poetry, to the existentialism of the twentieth century. Parallels such as these can be sweepingly unclear, in part because the term "existentialism" itself has become subject to abusea nametag to embrace a diversity of specific twentieth-century doctrines' -and in consequence its meaning has waned and become devalued. We may however accept the legitimacy of references to existentialism in the context of Quevedo if we take this to be meant in the broad sense that reality does not depend on essences. Be this as it may, there is indeed, I think, a likeness between the twentieth-century attitude of man toward his circumstance and that of Quevedo. It is a particular brand of redemptive displeasure with the soul and with the world, and one which engenders in Quevedo not abject passivity but active rebellion. In this he is indeed a phenomenon in his own century, an anomaly transcending all his contemporaries. It is precisely in this rebellious and energetic capacity that I find the most genuine ground for parallels with the existentialism of today. In this regard it strikes me as helpful to keep in mind the etymology of the philosophical term, for in the language of twentieth-century philosophy, the words "exist" and "existence" do not imply, as they do in daily speech, passive continuance in being. On the contrary, they have the sense of their Latin root ex: out and sistere, from stare: to stand. It is at this point that syntax and the usage of linguistic form throw light and come to bear upon the personal vision of the world that the name "existentialism" seeks to convey. I refer specifically in this study to the use of the poetic device of enjambment. Quevedo's extraordinarily ample and versatile use of enjambment corresponds perfectly in linguistic and formal mode to his personal stance of active protest in the world. It is the exact vehicle for one who seeks to call attention to himself and his cir

I am thinking of you now, not writing verses. (The message announcing only itself is bare. I want to say instead 'I saw two birds,' or that I 'think of you and think how the soul retires, sits like a bird on its perch in the farthest corner of the mind, like the dot on the i, a black moon, over a black door.' But this is far from you and even of another world. How to get back I do not know. There is the dreary enjambment of prose, but then something infinite and parenthetical is lost. The atmosphere is the world's parentheses: all is within. Then all is lost; but this is too tragic to be. (I am thinking of the moon and the reeds and the loose dark sounds of water, your throaty-bird laugh, your depths, your eyes of the blue rays of dreams.)) I am thinking of your white-gold hair.