For anyone who was concerned about my liver enzymes as Eileen evidently was, I feel compelled to say I am alive and doing fine. That is not to say that I am free of envy for those who will be able to partake of the panel discussion on poetry publishing at SF State that Ms. Tabios is participating in on November 9th. Still, in a very round about way, I believe she has cleared up a bit of the mystery on cultural capital from her original post. If I may say so, without hindering her desire to remain "flakey" in her own right, and on her own blog... I believe she is speaking of cultural capital in the context of something many other would relate to as a form of networking.
This is starting to click for me now. While not at all a new concept to me, I think she is giving it new meaning to me. Of course I would much prefer to be a mouse in the corner of the room when she gives this presentation or a poet in the audience would work quite nicely... but I at least believe I am now in the ballpark on what she is talking about.
It is with some degree of amusement that I recall another post of hers earlier in the week I believe when she spoke of how she kept screwing-up having a career in poetry. Hum, methinks she is not screwing-up too badly.
4 comments:
EGADS! "NETWORKING"? I mean, yes ... and no. First, there are ways to generate cultural capital without networking, or traditional forms of networking thereof. Matter of fact, what I like about moi blather-forum, I mean my blog, is that I can be out there without ... networking.
But, more importantly, I think of it this way. Many think of networking as a trading mechanism of sorts -- where one does something in order to (potentially) get something back. But Poetry (to me) is a gift -- to the audience as well as to its author. That is, the ability to even make a poem is *already* a blessing. This, for me, poses certain implications about what I need (or not need) from others when I already got what I needed (that blessing...)
And even as I write that, I feel I didn't quite explain. It's just that that critter called "poetry" keeps shifting shape so that any single shadow I paint on the cave wall via articulating its nature ... is inevitably diffuse.
My liver is purple and I'm happy that it is.
Ah! You beat me to the comments. I was thinking in the car tonight and I decided that my post really left what I was thinking too wide open. Networking is a pretty broad example. I'm sure one can network without building up cultural capital, however, (at least what I was thinking) you likely cannot build up cultural capital without networking. Am I on target here or is my liver regressing?
I'm guessing reading books & poems, reviews, going to readings, intellectual exchanges, etc., are the kinds of things you are talking about. I'm likely missing others... but I think this is the gist of what you are saying. Yes, no, maybe so?
Um, no. Those can be lovely activities, of course, but not what I meant as regards cultural capital....in fact, some build up cultural capital specifically because they (presumably) don't network. Eh. But Michael, dear, this is all just blather. Ultimately...the question is:
Do you know where your poem is?
Excoose me whilst Moi goes to laugh herself even more witless...
Yes... even in my thought process while driving (yes, I can do two things at once though apparently not well) I evidently was missing the mark.
I am thinking now, perhaps I understand your point better - but to some degree, I think we may be differing on semantics. (example - I do consider blogging to be networking. It seems to me that it is putting yourself out there in the community and it allows an exchange of ideas and can produce goodwill) Which I suppose that is not a good thing whenever two poets are trying to communicate. (chuckle)
I do appreciate your efforts to bring this to somewhat remedial terms for moi since a trip to SF on Nov. 9 is outside the proximity of my present budget considerations. I will carry on as a faithful reader of your blog in order the glean a much wisdom as I can from Chatelaine’s intellect and experience. :)
For now, I must go find my poem.
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