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时间:2014-12-10 09:42来源:未知作者:admin点击:
哈佛大学Daniel Albright教授和弗莱明翰州立大学Marta Rivera Monclova博士受教育部外国专家特色项目资助,将于12月8-11日为我院文学方向研究生开设系列讲座,欢迎全院有兴趣的老师和同学参
哈佛大学Daniel Albright教授和弗莱明翰州立大学Marta Rivera Monclova博士受教育部“外国专家特色项目”资助,将于12月8-11日为我院文学方向研究生开设系列讲座,欢迎全院有兴趣的老师和同学参加。
讲座日程安排、主讲人介绍、阅读材料附后,请自行下载阅读。
亚博在线(中国)官方网站
2014年12月6日


1. 讲座安排/Lectures

Dec 8, Mon, Rm 3402
1. 14:20-15:40,
Prof Daniel Albright:
Surrealism
2. 16:00-17:20,
Dr. Marta Monclova:
Palm Trees in the Projects: Puerto Rican Counterinvasion in Edgardo Vega Yunqué’s Loisaida.


Dec 9, Tue, Rm 3408
18:30-20:00
Open Lecture [No.2014-41]
Prof Daniel Albright, Harvard University
W. B. Yeats and Modernism


Dec 10, Wed, Rm 3402
1. 14:20-15:40
Dr. Marta Monclova:
"My Dreams is Censored": Poverty and Women in Black Artemis' Picture Me Rollin'
[A *very* introductory piece (with a presentation with a bunch of pictures!) also concerning the culture of poverty in the United States through the lens of the text Picture Me Rollin' by the Puerto Rican author Sofia Quintero writing under the penname Black Artemis. ]
2. 16:00-17:30
Prof Daniel Albright:
Imagism
[For Imagism, Pound’s “In a Station of the Metro,” “Les Millwin,” “The Garden”; and H.D.’s “Oread.”]

Dec 11, Thu, Rm 3402
15:30-17:00
Prof Daniel Albright:
Symbolism
[For the Symbolism lecture, you might ask folks to read Yeats’s To the Rose upon the Rood of Time, Stevens’ The Anecdote of the Jar, and a translation of Baudelaire’s Correspondences. ]


2. 主讲人简介/Lecturers:

1. Daniel Albright

Professor Daniel Albright received his Ph.D. in 1970 from Yale University, and now is the Ernest Bernbaum Professor of Literature at Harvard University. Prof. Albright teaches in the Music Department as well as the English Department. He also teaches courses on opera, drama, Victorian and Modernist poetry and fiction, and the relation of physics to literature. His interests cover Nineteenth and Twentieth-Century Literature, Music, and Painting; Theory of Comparative Arts; Lyric Poetry; Drama; Science and Literature. He’s particularly interested in the ways in which artistic media–poetry, music, painting—interact with one another. His major publications include:
  1. Modernism and Music: An Anthology of Sources. University of Chicago Press, 2004,
  2. Beckett and Aesthetics. Cambridge University Press, 2003.
  3. Berlioz's Semi-Operas. University of Rochester Press, 2001.
  4. Untwisting the Serpent. University of Chicago Press, 2000.
  5. Quantum Poetics: Yeats, Pound, Eliot, and the Science of Modernism. Cambridge University Press, 1997.
  6. W. B. Yeats: The Poems, ed. J. M. Dent and Sons,1990.
  7. Stravinsky: The Music-Box and the Nightingale. Gordon and Breach,1989.
  8. Tennyson: The Muses' Tug-of-War. University Press of Virginia,1986.
  9. Lyricality in English Literature. University of Nebraska Press, 1985.
  10. Representation and the Imagination: Beckett, Kafka, Nabokov, Schoenberg. University of Chicago Press, 1981.
  11. Personality and Impersonality: Lawrence, Woolf, Mann. University of Chicago Press,1978.
  12. The Myth against Myth: A Study of Yeats's Imagination in Old Age. Oxford University Press, 1972.

2. Dr. Marta S. Rivera Monclova

Marta S. Rivera Monclova received a PhD in English Literature from Tufts University with her doctoral dissertation entitled “Discrimination, Evasion, and Livability in Four New York Puerto Rican Narratives.” Now she teaches at English Department, Framingham State University, USA. She is interested in 19th, 20th, and 21st century U.S. literatures; Caribbean literatures; diasporic Puerto Rican literature; world literatures in English; gender and sexuality in literature. And her particular academic interest is in Puerto Rican literature as well as poetry.
She is also active in helping to organize some poetry-based activities like the first ever technology and humanities conference in the Caribbean, and "THAT Camp" (http://thatcamp.org ), --a conference that attempts to flip traditional strategies of prepared papers and readings in favor of hands-on workshopping and building together. "THAT" stands for The Humanities and Technology.


3. 阅读材料/Reading Materials for the lectures

[For the Symbolism lecture, you might ask folks to read Yeats’s “To the Rose upon the Rood of Time,” Stevens’ “The Anecdote of the Jar,” and a translation of Baudelaire’s “Correspondences.” ]

TO THE ROSE UPON THE ROOD OF TIME
William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

ED Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days!
Come near me, while I sing the ancient ways:
Cuchulain battling with the bitter tide;
The Druid, grey, wood-nurtured, quiet eyed,
Who cast round Fergus dreams, and ruin untold;
And thine own sadness, whereof stars, grown old
In dancing silver-sandalled on the sea,
Sing in their high and lonely melody.
Come near, that no more blinded by man's fate,
I find under the boughs of love and hate,
In all poor foolish things that live a day,
Eternal beauty wandering on her way.

Come near, come near, come near -- Ah, leave me still
A little space for the rose-breath to fill!
Lest I no more hear common things that crave;
The weak worm hiding down in its small cave,
The field-mouse running by me in the grass,
And heavy mortal hopes that toil and pass;
But seek alone to hear the strange things said
By God to the bright hearts of those long dead,
And learn to chaunt a tongue men do not know
Come near; I would, before my time to go,
Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways:
Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days.


Anecdote of the Jar
Wallace Stevens

I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.
The wilderness rose up to it,
And sprawled around, no longer wild.
The jar was round upon the ground
And tall and of a port in air.
It took dominion every where.
The jar was gray and bare.
It did not give of bird or bush,
Like nothing else in Tennessee.


Correspondances
Charles Baudelaire

La Nature est un temple où de vivants piliers
Laissent parfois sortir de confuses paroles;
L'homme y passe à travers des forêts de symboles
Qui l'observent avec des regards familiers.
Comme de longs échos qui de loin se confondent
Dans une ténébreuse et profonde unité,
Vaste comme la nuit et comme la clarté,
Les parfums, les couleurs et les sons se répondent.
II est des parfums frais comme des chairs d'enfants,
Doux comme les hautbois, verts comme les prairies,
— Et d'autres, corrompus, riches et triomphants,
Ayant l'expansion des choses infinies,
Comme l'ambre, le musc, le benjoin et l'encens,
Qui chantent les transports de l'esprit et des sens.
Charles Baudelaire

[Translation 1]
Correspondences
Nature is a temple in which living pillars
Sometimes give voice to confused words;
Man passes there through forests of symbols
Which look at him with understanding eyes.
Like prolonged echoes mingling in the distance
In a deep and tenebrous unity,
Vast as the dark of night and as the light of day,
Perfumes, sounds, and colors correspond.
There are perfumes as cool as the flesh of children,
Sweet as oboes, green as meadows
— And others are corrupt, and rich, triumphant,
With power to expand into infinity,
Like amber and incense, musk, benzoin,
That sing the ecstasy of the soul and senses.
— William Aggeler, The Flowers of Evil (Fresno, CA: Academy Library Guild, 1954)

[Translation 2]
Correspondences
Nature's a temple where each living column,
At times, gives forth vague words. There Man advances
Through forest-groves of symbols, strange and solemn,
Who follow him with their familiar glances.
As long-drawn echoes mingle and transfuse
Till in a deep, dark unison they swoon,
Vast as the night or as the vault of noon —
So are commingled perfumes, sounds, and hues.
There can be perfumes cool as children's flesh,
Like fiddIes, sweet, like meadows greenly fresh.
Rich, complex, and triumphant, others roll
With the vast range of all non-finite things —
Amber, musk, incense, benjamin, each sings
The transports of the senses and the soul.
— Roy Campbell, Poems of Baudelaire (New York: Pantheon Books, 1952)

[Translation 3]
Correspondences
All nature is one temple, the living aisles whereof
Murmur in a soft language, half strange, half understood;
Man wanders there as through a cabalistic wood,
Aware of eyes that watch him in the leaves above.
Like voices echoing in his senses from beyond
Life's watery source, and which into one voice unite,
Vast as the turning planet clothed in darkness and light,
So do all sounds and hues and fragrances correspond.
Perfumes there are as sweet as the music of pipes and strings,
As pure as the naked flesh of children, as full of peace
As wide green prairies — and there are others, having the whole
Corrupt proud all-pervasiveness of infinite things,
Like frankincense, and musk, and myrrh, and ambergris,
That cry of the ecstasy of the body and of the soul.
— George Dillon, Flowers of Evil (NY: Harper and Brothers, 1936)

[Translation 4]
Correspondences
In Nature's temple, living pillars rise,
Speaking sometimes in words of abstruse sense;
Man walks through woods of symbols, dark and dense,
Which gaze at him with fond familiar eyes.
Like distant echoes blent in the beyond
In unity, in a deep darksome way,
Vast as black night and vast as splendent day,
Perfumes and sounds and colors correspond.
Some scents are cool as children's flesh is cool,
Sweet as are oboes, green as meadowlands,
And others rich, corrupt, triumphant, full,
Expanding as infinity expands:
Benzoin or musk or amber that incenses,
Hymning the ecstasy of soul and senses.
— Jacques LeClercq, Flowers of Evil (Mt Vernon, NY: Peter Pauper Press, 1958)

[Translation 5]
Correspondances
Nature's a fane where down each corridor
of living pillars, darkling whispers roll,
— a symbol-forest every pilgrim soul
must pierce, 'neath gazing eyes it knew before.
like echoes long that from afar rebound,
merged till one deep low shadowy note is born,
vast as the night or as the fires of morn,
sound calls to fragrance, colour calls to sound.
cool as an infant's brow some perfumes are,
softer than oboes, green as rainy leas;
others, corrupt, exultant, rich, unbar
wide infinities wherein we move at ease:
— musk, ambergris, frankincense, benjamin
chant all our soul or sense can revel in.
— Lewis Piaget Shanks, Flowers of Evil (New York: Ives Washburn, 1931)

[Translation 6]
Correspondences
Nature is a temple where living pillars
Let sometimes emerge confused words;
Man crosses it through forests of symbols
Which watch him with intimate eyes.
Like those deep echoes that meet from afar
In a dark and profound harmony,
As vast as night and clarity,
So perfumes, colors, tones answer each other.
There are perfumes fresh as children's flesh,
Soft as oboes, green as meadows,
And others, corrupted, rich, triumphant,
Possessing the diffusion of infinite things,
Like amber, musk, incense and aromatic resin,
Chanting the ecstasies of spirit and senses.
— Geoffrey Wagner, Selected Poems of Charles Baudelaire (NY: Grove Press, 1974)


[For Imagism, Pound’s “In a Station of the Metro,” “Les Millwin,” “The Garden”; and H.D.’s “Oread.”]

In a station of the Metro
Ezra Pound

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.


Les Millwin
Ezra Pound

The little Millwins attend the Russian Ballet.
The mauve and greenish souls of the little Millwins
Were seen lying along the upper seats
Like so many unused boas.

The turbulent and undisciplined host of art students-
The rigorous deputation from ‘Slade’-
Was before them.

With arms exalted, with fore-arms
Crossed in great futuristic X's, the art students
Exulted, they beheld the splendours of Cleopatra

And the little Millwins beheld these things;
With their large and anaemic eyes they looked out upon
this configuration.

Let us therefore mention the fact,
For it seems to us worthy of record.


The Garden
Ezra Pound

LIKE a skein of loose silk blown against a wall
She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens,
And she is dying piece-meal
of a sort of emotional anemia.

And round about there is a rabble
Of the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor.
They shall inherit the earth.

In her is the end of breeding.
Her boredom is exquisite and excessive.

She would like someone to speak to her,
And is almost afraid that I
will commit that indiscretion.


Oread
By H. D.

Whirl up, sea—
whirl your pointed pines,
splash your great pines
on our rocks,
hurl your green over us,
cover us with your pools of fir.


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