Saturday, March 01, 2025

Tristan Corbière (1845-1875) died on this day 1st Match.

So en francais below / courtesy of the machine / with a few tweaks, my French is old now, but in another life I was never here but there..

Se souvenir d'un révolutionnaire poétique



Remembering a Poetic Revolutionary

March 1, 2025 marks the 150th anniversary of the death of Tristan Corbière, one of the most innovative French poets of the 19th century. Born Édouard-Joachim Corbière in Morlaix, Brittany, in 1845, he lived just 29 years but his voice continues to resonate a century and a half later.

Corbière's only published collection, "Les Amours jaunes" (1873), initially went largely unnoticed. It wasn't until Paul Verlaine included him in "Les Poètes maudits" (1884) that his work began to receive the recognition it deserved. Today, he is recognized as a precursor to modernism and surrealism, influencing poets from T.S. Eliot to Allen Ginsberg.

As it happens a celebratory A3 and book were published by Francoise Livinec in 2013, the story is most fascinating since all the work was considered lost. The material was traced to Scotland were it was held by a sister of Jean Moulin, a prominent member of the French Resistance. 

https://francoiselivinec.com/en/editions/catalogue/873/tristan-corbiere

Editions Françoise Livinec then published the previously unpublished manuscript by Tristan Corbière, (saved by all by the resistance fighter Jean Moulin). Entitled Roscoff, this unpublished album contains 30 pages of texts and paintings created by the poet at the end of the 1860s. A work as modern as it is humorous and which depicts the contemporaries of the man of letters from Finistère, whether they are sailors, beggars, wreck looters, police officers, tourists and other passing merchants.

The rediscovery of Tristan Corbière's manuscript, "Roscoff," was credited to Benoît Houzé, a doctoral candidate in French literature. Houzé embarked on a meticulous search for the long-lost album, which had been missing since 1875. His investigation led him to Scotland, where he successfully traced and recovered the manuscript.

https://ncfs-journal.org/heather-williams/williams-corbiere-2012

On his overall works a highly rated translation by Christopher Pilling is available here as a pdf or Epub https://universitypress.whiterose.ac.uk/site/books/m/10.22599/Corbiere/

On his single publication in his lifetime "Les Amours Jaunes" the late Christopher Pilling also produced a the version entitled: "These Jaundiced Loves". Again this translation to English is highly rated.

A Poet Between Languages

What makes Corbière particularly fascinating is his unique linguistic approach. Moving between standard French and Breton expressions, maritime terminology and colloquial speech, he created a multilayered poetry that defied the conventions of his time. His work embodies the cultural and linguistic tensions of Brittany – a French region with its own distinct Celtic heritage.

In poems like "Le Bossu Bitor" and "Paysage mauvais," Corbière employs maritime vocabulary, Breton dialect and dramatic shifts in register to create a poetry that feels startlingly modern even today. His technique of juxtaposing different linguistic registers anticipated poetic developments that wouldn't become mainstream until decades later.

Even today there is much debate on 'translations' given the difficulty of Breton to French / Breton / French to English.

Selected Quotations

"Moi qui suis - Le poète qui ne fut pas - Et que jamais ne serai - Qui n'est pas né."

"I who am - The poet who never was - And never will be - Who was not born."

This famous self-description from "Le Poète Contumace" captures Corbière's sense of being outside traditional poetic identity.

"Bâtard de Créole et Breton, / Moi, je suis un poète, né / Pour n'être rien."

"Bastard of Creole and Breton, / I am a poet, born / To be nothing."

Here Corbière acknowledges his mixed cultural identity and outsider status.

"J'ai vu le soleil dur contre les falaises / Fermer l'oeil, aveuglé de ces grandes fournaises..."

"I've seen the harsh sun against the cliffs / Close its eye, blinded by these great furnaces..."

This vivid maritime imagery from "Paysage mauvais" demonstrates his ability to transform landscape into emotional terrain.

Why Corbière Matters Today

The beauty of all this is that 150 years after his death, Corbière's work speaks to me personally / the rest of you can do what you do :-)

His bilingual experimentation feels particularly relevant from an Irish perspective where language boundaries try to blur. His irony, self-deprecation and examination of outsider identity resonate with contemporary sensibilities. I see this / read this and look at many contemporaries strutting.   

The fact that major critics cannot agree on his work and major poets reference it is enough; Verlaine, TS Eliot, Ezra Pound - all were drawn to the work of Corbière.

As a poet who refused to stay within prescribed boundaries – of language, of style, of subject matter – Corbière anticipated the complexity of modern identity. His work reminds me that innovation often exists at the margins, in the spaces between languages and traditions and often after death.

I pay homage to him as a historical figure and I recognize a poet who spoke important words in his own time that still echo into our own future.


For any who make their way to Morlaix:

Directions to the grave:

Saint-Augustin Cemetery, 2 Rue des Réservoirs. To locate the grave precisely:

Enter via Rue Saint Augustin

Go up about two thirds of the way to the small chapel

To the right of the path, behind the chapel, is another miniature chapel

Corbière's grave is there, recognizable by its Celtic-style cross, its wrought iron and its large book-shaped stone.







En Francais

Le 1er mars 2025 marque le 150ème anniversaire de la mort de Tristan Corbière, l'un des poètes français les plus innovants du XIXe siècle. Né Édouard-Joachim Corbière à Morlaix, en Bretagne, en 1845, il n'a vécu que 29 ans, mais sa voix continue de résonner un siècle et demi plus tard.

L'unique recueil publié de Corbière, "Les Amours jaunes" (1873), est initialement passé largement inaperçu. Ce n'est que lorsque Paul Verlaine l'a inclus dans "Les Poètes maudits" (1884) que son œuvre a commencé à recevoir la reconnaissance qu'elle méritait. Aujourd'hui, il est reconnu comme un précurseur du modernisme et du surréalisme, influençant des poètes de T.S. Eliot à Allen Ginsberg.

Il se trouve qu'un ouvrage commémoratif A3 et un livre ont été publiés par Françoise Livinec en 2013, l'histoire est des plus fascinantes car tout le travail était considéré comme perdu. Le matériel a été retrouvé en Écosse où il était détenu par une sœur de Jean Moulin, membre important de la Résistance française.

https://francoiselivinec.com/en/editions/catalogue/873/tristan-corbiere

Les Éditions Françoise Livinec ont alors publié le manuscrit inédit de Tristan Corbière, qui appartenait au résistant Jean Moulin. Intitulé Roscoff, cet album inédit contient 30 pages de textes et de peintures créés par le poète à la fin des années 1860. Une œuvre aussi moderne qu'humoristique et qui dépeint les contemporains de l'homme de lettres finistérien, qu'ils soient marins, mendiants, pilleurs d'épaves, gendarmes, touristes et autres marchands de passage.

"La redécouverte du manuscrit de Tristan Corbière, "Roscoff," a été attribuée à **Benoît Houzé**, doctorant en littérature française. Houzé s'est lancé dans une recherche méticuleuse de l'album longtemps perdu, qui avait disparu depuis 1875. Son enquête l'a conduit en Écosse, où il a réussi à retrouver et récupérer le manuscrit."

https://ncfs-journal.org/heather-williams/williams-corbiere-2012

Concernant l'ensemble de ses œuvres, une traduction très appréciée est celle de Christopher Pilling, disponible ici en pdf ou Epub https://universitypress.whiterose.ac.uk/site/books/m/10.22599/Corbiere/

Sur son unique publication de son vivant "Les Amours Jaunes", le regretté Christopher Pilling a également produit une version intitulée: "These Jaundiced Loves". Cette traduction en anglais est également très estimée.

Un poète entre les langues

Ce qui rend Corbière particulièrement fascinant est son approche linguistique unique. Se déplaçant entre le français standard et les expressions bretonnes, la terminologie maritime et le langage familier, il a créé une poésie multicouche qui défiait les conventions de son époque. Son œuvre incarne les tensions culturelles et linguistiques de la Bretagne – une région française avec son propre héritage celtique distinct.

Dans des poèmes comme "Le Bossu Bitor" et "Paysage mauvais", Corbière emploie le vocabulaire maritime, le dialecte breton et des changements dramatiques de registre pour créer une poésie qui semble étonnamment moderne même aujourd'hui. Sa technique de juxtaposition de différents registres linguistiques a anticipé des développements poétiques qui ne deviendraient courants que des décennies plus tard.

Même aujourd'hui, il y a beaucoup de débats sur les 'traductions' étant donné la difficulté du breton au français / breton / français à l'anglais.

Citations choisies

"Moi qui suis - Le poète qui ne fut pas - Et que jamais ne serai - Qui n'est pas né."

"I who am - The poet who never was - And never will be - Who was not born."

Cette célèbre auto-description tirée de "Le Poète Contumace" capture le sentiment de Corbière d'être en dehors de l'identité poétique traditionnelle.

"Bâtard de Créole et Breton, / Moi, je suis un poète, né / Pour n'être rien."

"Bastard of Creole and Breton, / I am a poet, born / To be nothing."

Ici, Corbière reconnaît son identité culturelle mixte et son statut d'outsider.

"J'ai vu le soleil dur contre les falaises / Fermer l'oeil, aveuglé de ces grandes fournaises..."

"I've seen the harsh sun against the cliffs / Close its eye, blinded by these great furnaces..."

Ces images maritimes vivantes tirées de "Paysage mauvais" démontrent sa capacité à transformer le paysage en terrain émotionnel.

Pourquoi Corbière compte aujourd'hui

La beauté de tout cela, c'est que 150 ans après sa mort, l'œuvre de Corbière me parle personnellement / le reste d'entre vous peut faire ce que vous faites :-)

Son expérimentation bilingue semble particulièrement pertinente d'un point de vue irlandais où les frontières linguistiques tentent de s'estomper. Son ironie, son autodérision et son examen de l'identité marginale résonnent avec les sensibilités contemporaines. Je vois cela / lis cela et je regarde les contemporains qui paradent?

Le fait que les grands critiques ne parviennent pas à s'accorder sur son œuvre et que les grands poètes y font référence est suffisant; Verlaine, TS Eliot, Ezra Pound - tous ont été attirés par l'œuvre de Corbière.

En tant que poète qui a refusé de rester dans les limites prescrites – de la langue, du style, du sujet – Corbière a anticipé la complexité de l'identité moderne. Son œuvre me rappelle que l'innovation existe souvent aux marges, dans les espaces entre les langues et les traditions et souvent après la mort.

Je lui rends hommage en tant que personnage historique et je reconnais un poète qui a prononcé des mots importants à son époque qui résonnent encore dans notre propre avenir.

Nous avons besoin des Corbière de ce monde plus que jamais...

Pour ceux qui se rendent à Morlaix:

Directions vers la tombe: Cimetière Saint-Augustin, 2 Rue des Réservoirs. Pour localiser précisément la tombe:

Entrez par la Rue Saint Augustin Montez environ deux tiers du chemin jusqu'à la petite chapelle À droite du chemin, derrière la chapelle, se trouve une autre chapelle miniature La tombe de Corbière s'y trouve, reconnaissable à sa croix de style celtique, sa grille en fer forgé et sa grande pierre en forme de livre.

--


Wednesday, April 17, 2024

International Haiku Day



 



fleeting life blossoms

tell of falling tomorrows

love but the moment







.

Saturday, April 29, 2023

Paul Valéry

 Paul Valéry

"In the eyes of those lovers of perfection, a work is never finished - a word that for them has no sense - but abandoned; and this abandonment, whether to the flames or to the public (and which is the result of weariness or an obligation to deliver) is a kind of an accident to them, like the breaking off of a reflection, which fatigue, irritation, or something similar has made worthless."  

~Paul Valéry.

[Aux yeux de ces amateurs d’inquiétude et de perfection, un ouvrage n’est jamais achevé, – mot qui pour eux n’a aucun sens, – mais abandonné ; et cet abandon, qui le livre aux flammes ou au public (et qu’il soit l’effet de la lassitude ou de l’obligation de livrer) est une sorte d’accident, comparable à la rupture d’une réflexion, que la fatigue, le fâcheux ou quelque sensation viennent rendre nulle.]

Paul Valéry (1871-1945) French poet, critic, author, polymath

Whilst this translation above is one possible version the current - shall we say verbatim (via google translation) is;-

"In the eyes of these lovers of uneasiness and perfection, a work is never finished – a word which for them has no meaning – but abandoned; and this abandonment, which delivers it to the flames or to the public (and whether it is the effect of lassitude or of the obligation to deliver) is a sort of accident, comparable to the rupture of a reflection, which the fatigue, the unfortunate or some sensation come to nullify"

..if a French reader would care to correct this 'raw version' I would be honoured.

afaik..
In March 1933 Paul Valéry published an essay in “La Nouvelle Revue Française” (“The New French Review”) about his poem “Le Cimetière marin” (“The Cemetery by the sea”) and this quote emerged from there.

=

New Criterion had a great article a few years back (imho)
https://newcriterion.com/issues/2020/4/the-cemetery-by-the-sea

FYI:
Le Cimetière marin is written in alexandrine /alexandrin, a verse form that was the leading measure in French poetry a couple of hundred years ago. It consists of a line of 12 syllables with major stresses on the 6th syllable (which precedes the medial caesura [pause]) and on the last syllable, and one secondary accent in each half line.

The foundation of most alexandrines consists of two hemistichs (half-lines) of six syllables each, separated by a caesura (a metrical pause or word break, which may or may not be realized as a stronger syntactic break): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alexandrine

Whilst somewhat reluctant to start a poetry war it would be most interesting to examine the form in the context of the scope of the rigours and how one might port them to our time and language.

I may have to temper this with Pindar's advice;-

"Do not, my soul, strive for the life of the immortals,
but exhaust the practical means at your disposal."


Sunday, June 13, 2021

Home and Sense of Place

 As always the diversity reflecting the Ireland that we may become is exciting and none more so than the readings from Home and Sense of Place.

Home and Sense of Place presents nine poems exploring the idea of home and belonging, the experience of migration, and the importance of place:

• Nithy Kasa reading “The Lake Isle of Innisfree” by W. B. Yeats (Dublin, 2020)
• Selina Nwulu reading her work “Half Written Love Letter” (London, 2019)
• Seán Hewitt reading “Queens” by J. M. Synge (Coole Park, Co Galway 2020)
• Mahogany L. Browne reading her work “If 2017 was a poem title” (New York, 2019)
• Denice Frohman reading her work “Puertopia” (New York, 2019)
• Doireann Ní Ghríofa reading her work “Brightening" (Coole Park, Co Galway, 2020)
• Liz Berry reading her work “The Republic of Motherhood” (London, 2019)
• Camille Rankine reading her work “It Would Sound Like a Dream” (New York, 2019)
• Marian Richardson reading “Girls Bathing, Galway 1965” by Seamus Heaney (Dublin, 2019)


I may be able to provide video / links to the above as I find them, in the first instance here is a reading from Nithy Kasa reading William Butler Yeats' "The Lake Isle of Innisfree".



Saturday, June 12, 2021

Congratulations to William Wall

Mega congratulations to William Wall on his appointment as the Cork poet laureate, an initiative of the Munster Literature Centre... (funded by Cork City Council). 

The laureateship runs for ten months from May 2021. The laureate will publish a new poem at the end of each month.
 
https://www.munsterlit.ie/
Read more... https://www.munsterlit.ie/cork_poet_laureate.html
William Wall's website http://www.williamwall.net/
On Wikepedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Wall_(writer)

William's first poem is... 

Hometown Blues 


Listen to William Wall reading here...
https://www.irishexaminer.com/lifestyle/artsandculture/arid-40308719.html

In memory of the late great Rory Gallagher, I remember being at a Rory Gallagher concert in the Stadium in Dublin and as William says... "the whole floor a drum" for those not familiar with Rory Gallagher please search for Going To My Hometown (1972)... I know, we are all ancient, how else can you survive... ;-)



Monday, May 11, 2020

Navajo & Hopi Families COVID-19 Relief Fund

Folks,
IMHO ..it is beholden on us as the Irish nation to make a contribution to the current fundraiser to the Navajo & Hopi Families COVID-19 Relief Fund as a small token for the Great Hunger / Famine relief provided by the 1847 donation from the Choctaw Tribe.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/NHFC19Relief

We as a Nation will never forget the generosity of our Choctaw Brothers and Sisters who in their own time of need saw fit to make a contribution to the suffering in Ireland in 1847.

Go raibh maith agat go léir

Now it is our turn, please make a contribution.






Des Donnelly Tyrone

Thursday, May 11, 2017

Remember Fontenoy Always

May 11
Fontenoy
By Thomas Osborne Davis (1814–1845)      

THRICE at the huts of Fontenoy the English column failed,
And twice the lines of St. Antoine the Dutch in vain assailed;
For town and slope were guarded with fort and artillery,
And well they swept the English ranks and Dutch auxiliary.
As vainly through De Barri’s wood the British soldiers burst,        5
The French artillery drove them back, diminished and dispersed.
The bloody Duke of Cumberland beheld with anxious eye,
And ordered up his last reserve, his latest chance to try.
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, how fast his generals ride!
And mustering come his chosen troops, like clouds at eventide.        10

Six thousand English veterans in stately column tread,
Their cannon blaze in front and flank, Lord Hay is at their head;
Steady they step a-down the slope—steady they climb the hill—
Steady they load—steady they fire, moving right onward still
Betwixt the wood and Fontenoy, as though a furnace blast,        15
Through rampart, trench, and palisade, and bullets showering fast;
And on the open plain above they rose, and kept their course,
With ready fire and steadiness, that mocked at hostile force.
Past Fontenoy, past Fontenoy, while thinner grow their ranks,
They break, as broke the Zuyder Zee through Holland’s ocean banks.        20

More idly than the summer flies French tirailleurs rush round;
As stubble to the lava tide, French squadrons strew the ground;
Bombshell, and grape, and round shot tore, still on they marched and fired—
Fast from each volley grenadier and voltigeur retired.
“Push on, my household cavalry,” King Louis madly cried:        25
To death they rush, but rude their shock—not unavenged they died.
On through the camp the column trod—King Louis turns his rein;
“Not yet, my liege,” Saxe interposed, “the Irish troops remain;”
And Fontenoy, famed Fontenoy, had been a Waterloo,
Were not these exiles ready then, fresh, vehement, and true.        30

“Lord Clare,” he says, “you have your wish—there are your Saxon foes;”
The marshal almost smiles to see, so furiously he goes!
How fierce the look these exiles wear, who’re wont to be so gay!
The treasured wrongs of fifty years are in their hearts to-day—
The treaty broken ere the ink wherewith ’twas writ could dry,        35
Their plundered homes, their ruined shrines, their women’s parting cry,
Their priesthood hunted down like wolves, their country overthrown—
Each looks as if revenge for all rested on him alone.
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, nor ever yet elsewhere,
Rushed on to fight a nobler band than these proud exiles were.        40

O’Brien’s voice is hoarse with joy, as, halting, he commands,
“Fix bayonets—charge.” Like mountain storms rush on these fiery bands!
Thin is the English column now, and faint their volleys grow,
Yet, mustering all the strength they have, they make a gallant show.
They dress their ranks upon the hill to face that battle-wind—        45
Their bayonets the breakers’ foam; like rocks, the men behind!
One volley crashes from their line, when, through the surging smoke,
With empty guns clutched in their hands, the headlong Irish broke.
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, hark to that fierce huzzah!
“Revenge! remember Limerick! dash down the Sassenach.”        50
Like lions leaping at a fold when mad with hunger’s pang,
Right up against the English line the Irish exiles sprang.
Bright was their steel, ’tis bloody now, their guns are filled with gore;
Through shattered ranks, and severed files, and trampled flags they tore.
The English strove with desperate strength, paused, rallied, staggered, fled—        55
The green hill-side is matted close with dying and with dead.
Across the plain and far away passed on that hideous wrack,
While cavalier and fantassin dash in upon their track,
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, like eagles in the sun,
With bloody plumes the Irish stand—the field is fought and won!

A village in Belgium. Here, on May 11, 1745, the French under Marshal Saxe defeated the allied English, Dutch and Hanoverians under the Duke of Cumberland.

The Irish fighting alongside the French (as 500,000 Irish did for France) covered themselves with glory.

more on Thomas Osborne Davis

Saturday, February 04, 2017

Hocus POTUS

Hocus POTUS, nukes protect us
screaming walls and evil laws
torture chambers and fresh cabals
abra cadaver
macabre...





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