Monday, July 8, 2013

Clarity matters less in stained glass

Is clarity next to godliness? Is it really the best policy in writing?

I am now prepared to state that comprehension is the end for most communication, but that clarity is merely one of the means to that end.

So rarely do we even achieve clarity - and, yes, confusion is rampant - that we rarely consciously recall that our intent is to understand each other. Clarity is one simple solution.

Poetry is one way we might find how we have lost sight of our intentions. It would be simple, and clear enough, to say that Mr. Eliot’s ‘The love song of J. Alfred Prufrock’ is primarily about growing old. And clearly, many people are not interested in following phrases that leave them scratching their thinning hair. Measuring out our life with coffee spoons; rolling or not rolling our trousers; do I dare to each a peach? Really?

I think Mr. Eliot has marked his impressions on the page not unlike Mr. Monet. Realism and accurate representation have their places, but our minds are not mere mechanisms. If we are willing, we are capable of taking experiences and ideas - in fragments, out of context - and shape them or let them come together into something unexpected and meaningful in our minds.

Of course, we often want to share these things with each other and language is our means to this end. But, and I cannot over state this, the world and our minds are analog – not digital.

Now I am doing my best to measure out my words so that the idea that is in my mind will match the thought that comes into your head, but I am also likely a fool on several counts. Only on the page are these words fixed. Aspects of the thoughts themselves remain fluid in my own mind. I have some hints as to what I am thinking, to be sure, but several of the primary notions we all have about our own thinking processes themselves are, at least in significant part, illusion.

Rationality and irrationality are inseparable in reality. As are consciousness and unconsciousness and many other word pairs. Even this particular moment, as I have tried to pin it down, no longer exists as I reach the period at the end of the sentence. I don’t mean to pull us too far into waters whose depths are beyond fathoming, but I can’t let this discussion entirely remain on the surface. Some murk will always lurk, although we attempt to generalize and categorize.

But to return to what I think Mr. Eliot is trying to do, which is to draw us out of simple, shallow ideas and give us a glimpse of some of the mysteries of our existence, he paints with words as his colors and his brushstrokes, dashing them in ways that are not always immediately clear. And indeed these metaphors themselves are embedded in our language.

There is much chaos and confusion in our speech and our writing and that kind of misunderstanding is not the direction to which I am pointing. What we need for what we are trying to express at different times calls for various approaches, but muddle and carelessness will almost never serve us well.

But particularly when we are writing about things that we truly do not fully comprehend ourselves, and with the realization that we are still processing thoughts that people have thought about long before we ourselves began and will continue well after we have ended - a more open approach with our words may yield more understanding.

In a sense, my objection really is to a kind of precision – let us call it clarity – which does not and possibly cannot exist. Words will not contain the reality Mr. Eliot is exploring. His expression has reached my mind, likely in ways he never intended, and the words are printed there on the page, to be reviewed and discovered. And it is only his words have solidified. Many have found that in a real sense those words live, I suspect, that because of some ambiguity, perhaps misdirection, certainly some absences of obvious meaning that he left there in his poem and that we bring along with our own minds into the search for meaning. At some pause in the process of reading ‘Love song…’ - it appears that we somehow might share with Mr. Eliot and other at least a resonant meaning.

Poetry is a special case within language. That is poets give themselves permission not to be entirely clear as it suits their purpose. Some results seem unnecessarily muddled, to me. But poetry is also a quality. Perhaps you could say that poetry is the other part of clarity, the music to the lyric, if you will.

So even in more prosaic speech, there might be more than one best way to arrange our words to convey meaning. Conventional, clear writing will never go out of style – I hope. It often serves us well. But clarity is not my ultimate intent.

I want you to know and recall just how beautifully words can express the longing and delight in my mind.

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky …

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