Marshall McLuhan, author of the essay which follows,
believes that we can use our children’s awareness of film and TV to help them
better appreciate a traditional art form like poetry. His general strategy is
to use contemporary awareness of technology as an open door to traditional art
and literature. His book, The Mechanical Bride: the Folklore of Industrial
Man (1951), will prove immensely
interesting to those teachers who find this essay congenial.
Professor McLuhan,
who teaches English at the University of Toronto, is an associate editor of Explorations,
a journal published at the University of
Toronto and supported by the Ford Foundation. The magazine attempts to explore
ways to bring the humanities into fresh contact with modern man.
When “picturesque” poetry arose in the early eighteenth
century, English poets began to exploit a new way of seeing and feeling through
pictures. Poetry since then has steadily developed their discoveries. And their
discoveries were, to an amazing degree, anticipations of the movie and of
television. For that reason, it is easy now in teaching the poetry of Gray and
Collins, and of Wordsworth, Coleridge, Scott, Byron, Shelley, and Keats, to
train the camera eye on their verses. In so doing, teacher and student will
quickly discover a great deal about this earlier poetry that is new and
exciting today.
It is not necessary to begin as late as the eighteenth
century, however. Let us start with the familiar ballad, “Sir Patrick Spens.”
It opens with a panoramic shot of a king’s court. It is stormy weather. That is
why the king sits. The court in those days had to move about because government
administration could not expect people to come to court. Roads were too bad.
At once, the camera moves in for a close shot of the king
conversing with his counselors. The king has a problem. Note that there is
treachery afoot when the “eldern knicht” proposes his solution. At least we
learn this from the angry grief of Sir Patrick a few lines later. The next shot
is of the preparation of the letter. Then we shift instantly to the seashore
and Sir Patrick. Then there are shots of the swift and fatal preparations for
the voyage.
Everywhere the poet’s shots depend on sudden shifts and
startling contrast of image and effect. The opening shot of the king and his
court is contrasted with the final shot of Sir Patrick and the same nobles at
the bottom of the deep. The efficiency of Sir Patrick’s preparations for sea
are in contrast to the shots of his sissy courtiers and their fancy ladies “wi
their fans into their hand.”
The ballad was a swift and dramatic form which relied much
on short, quick shots or scenes that can be visually realized.
The students should be invited to discover these features as
much as possible for themselves. They should be asked to cast the show and to
watch for irony and metaphor or symbol.
If the last scene of “Sir Patrick Spens” were to be
presented as a radio program, one would naturally look at it closely to
discover the acoustic possibilities. The musical and other sound effects of
wind and rain and tumult of the seashore would come into their own. Needless to
say, in studying this or any other poem through the camera eye, the teacher and
student are going to learn a lot about the art of the movie and of television.
They would enjoy reading Eisenstein’s Film Form to see what a great movie director
learned from the poetry of Milton and the novels of Dickens in solving some
problems of movie art.
A glance at Collins’ “Ode to Evening” from the movie-camera
point of view reveals an important feature of landscape poetry. The romantic
poets looked for scenes that would correspond to various human feelings and
emotions. (The “feelings” refer to sensuous experience, the “emotions” to
states of mind.) “Ode to Evening” is a kind of orchestral arrangement of such
feelings and emotions. And this orchestration is managed by a rhythmic and
undulating succession of scenes which unfold as the poet takes his walk.
To turn from a camera-eye study of this poem to the Autumn
or Melancholy of Keats will reveal many
fascinating differences and resemblances of scene, tone, and language. Of
course, that is one justification of the camera-eye approach—that it reveals
the effects of the printed page through another medium. It permits the fruitful
method of comparison and contrast (the best way of studying samples from any of
the arts) to be followed in many unexpected ways. Also, it relates traditional
poetry to our contemporary experience.
Finally, let us turn to a small poem of Wordsworth, “The
Solitary Reaper.” The poet seems almost to have made it into a shooting script.
Note how carefully and exactly he sets the opening visual scene. He places
himself in the midst of the scene, both as camera eye and as commentator. Like
all the romantic poets, he not only tells you what to see but exactly how the
scene should affect you. The first and last stanzas have the same view and
sounds. But the two middle stanzas do some surprising leaps and offer some very
fantastic shots of Arabia, the Hebrides and ancient clan battles in Celtic
mists. These effects are carefully arranged, as in a musical or pictorial
composition, to bring about a single emotional impact. Wordsworth seeks the
eerie in the everyday as “The Ancient Mariner” of Coleridge seeks the casual
and everyday amidst the remote and eerie. Like all poets and artists,
Wordsworth in this poem aims to startle and waylay the reader. Every poem is an
ambush. And until the reader springs the trap and falls like Alice astonished
into another world, he hasn’t made contact with the poem.
The camera eye, assisted by sound effects, will help student
and teacher to discover the magic formula that will open the secret world that
is every great poem.
First published in The Clearing House, Vol. 30, No. 8 (Apr., 1956)
No comments:
Post a Comment