Monday, March 26, 2007

Thomas Lowe Taylor -- DAS MAARCHEN

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JOURNEY WITH OBJECT OF DIVIDE:
DAS MAARCHEN


I.

Using sheer experience as text to guard against the labelless nothing, the unnameable failure of language. In the 70s, Thomas Taylor decided to redecorate his mind with pujas, or blessings, in a Montana vision quest for Lolita energies, reunite himself with the unexpressible taboo of language, in his own utterances, to watch over elephant-headed gods in the City Palace with polypropylene toys, tinsel, and a string of old army jeeps. "Oh my God," whispered the girl in Day-Glo Ray-Bans Sweet Pink Dharma glossed lips. The Nevada atomic tests had not yet gone underground. How to control form, how to model a genetic experiment: "But we would find that even our phenomenal computer would soon be running overtime providing answers" (Sokal and Crovello, 45). The mushroom cloud was pink, like dawn, or futility.


II.

Under the influence of a vision quest, one's own doppelganger is a fiction of faith & ironic allusion. Tom's poetics do not create an image of himself, he himself had twinned long ago from augite, glass, and the willingness to dance in sweaty bars to the sound of "Tequila" & "Suzy-Q" on the jukebox. He read Karen Horney's Feminine Psychology and drank Jack Daniels from the bottle: "Unlike the claim to monogamy in others, our own attitude toward fidelity has no direct prototype in our infantile experience" (Horney, 95). On weekends, he pans the Yogo River for Montana sapphires as blue as morning glories. John Updike proposes answers to Kierkegaard, Tom grows his hair long, pulled back on hot July afternoons, and Walker Percy has 45 made-to-order vinyl pillows, all in the shape of ravens, all in different Day-Glo colors: "E lascia pur grattar dov'e la rogna!" (and let them go ahead and scratch where it itches!) Dante, in Paradiso.


III.

Latest neo-objectivist theoretical tendency: "Love & Cadaver Connection." "Hot dog in a landfill," quoth Taylor. It could have been Marilyn. It could have been poetic language. The self more conscious. Zukofsky ontology of kabbalah. He was wishing for something like a higher stack of books, cards, candies and promises of the perfect icon. "What do we gain, other than the loss of the useful mirror, by replacing Narcissus with Lacan's Symposium?" (Lesser, 18). Tom's notion that "a style is also a behavior" and all the implications, including Zukofsky ontology: conical poetics, layerings, mathematics, and gunshots in A commemorating JFK's assassination. Of symmetry. Of predictability. Of chaos. Of car backfiring at 2:00 am. Of carphone making my skull glow in the dark. Of a Portland, Oregon, picket fence reminding me of Tom Sawyer. Of Oklahoma City doctor liposuctioning wife to death. Of Tom, carving down the walls of his beach house to lower the roof 2 ft. Of Hawaiian Tropics beauty contest steroid man & binge-purge woman winners. Of Derrida saying "How can the signature be caught, by the signer, between quotation marks?" (Derrida, 44). Of loneliness at a time when one isn't supposed to be lonely any more. Of French scientists sawing open the plundered mummy.


IV.

At a local reading, a poet made a voice like honking Volkswagens while scampering in and out of escarpments, behind rose bushes and over sleeping cows. He fractionated mysticism with a disgruntled phoneme. A disgusted whoof -- "The first of Kepler's solar forces was the anima motrix, which Kepler visualized as a system of rays projecting from the sun in the plane of the ecliptic and carried about by the sun's continuing rotation" (Kuhn, 245). Dante goes to Paradise only after he spends time in the Inferno. Even though the tests went underground, the blasts still threw up enormous clouds of radioactive dust. Sheep in Utah were born with their hearts beating outside their chests. In the red glow of the Coca-Cola machine, Tom's anhydrous companion of imperturbable phases made brilliant smalltalk, pretending not to challenge basic notions of self & body. After Montana, but before Oregon, he smiled like Coco Chanel after being photographed by Cecil Beaton. The sadness was too much. Radioactive dust caught in the jet stream fell out of the skies as far away as Vermont. He bowed his head jangled chains of pearls & disclaimed 60s accoutrements like idealism. His clothes carried the utilitarian dust of knowledge before his time, his eyes pragmatic, his shirt filled with scandal, he walked in bright beforeness, lacking consanguinity and the proper bell to clang.
Susan Smith Nash

WORKS CITED

Derrida, Jacques. Signeponge. translated by Richard
Rand. New York: Columbia UP, 1984.
Horney, Karen. Feminine Psychology. Ed. and intro. by
Harold Kelman. New York: Norton, 1967.
Kuhn, Thomas S. The Copernican Revolution: Planetary
Astronomy in the Development of Western Thought. Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 1957.
Lesser, Wendy. His Other Half: Men Looking At Women
Through Art. Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 1991.
Sokal, Robert and Theodore Crovello. "The Biological
Species Concept: A Critical Evaluation" Units of Evolution. Ed. Marc Ereshefsky. Cambridge, MA: The MIT Press, 1992.

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D A S M A A R C H E N

A white horse comes as if on wings
He is not a robber
He will woo at the right time

I Ching

I
Ensemble relate toward other afters and onto movers more than anything as needed into other offers after the afar sentences which become another related event the manipulation of which or pulsation within outer extremities the labor of which included the outer spoils whichever the later hours recommend as another hour into which the lovers commend themselves toward the motives which are at least as long as something in between honesty and boredom, or hours of latent terminals the longer of which penetrates the semblance of another doorway opened part way as the mention which escapes the motives themselves or the hours moved by the doorway left alone as the terminal itself which meets or mates the same as any other animal, meaning that you'd score the doubters into any other moment the same as what you decided to relate to them in the moments between the sentence and the doubt which follows an inclusion of doubt or a resettling of the hours and minutes of expectation and reminiscence, your own name in between the others which has them following nothing to its conclusion, and as you are other than perfect, you are less than anyone else has any right to resume them in the motives you laid to rest in the days following the collapse at nightfall, how you formed these arrows into their remnants of color, lighted markers deployed within the armament of doubt: who followed them beyond what this was meant to allow in the terminals of what you meant to say, yellow sweater, forlorn fur-covered slippers mewling in the latent monuments of following and design which has for description an eagle and its' dove-marked floor-folded outerness, moments of which enter the delayed hours woodenly motivating the other doorways for their own sake, or formulating only those motives which allow doubt to release into certainty, or words to escalate into their own permanence through use and display by what you'd make an objective and lessened presence archived forward the moments pass through themselves by more or less elegant tumors of definition, how the airs are motive and design, sentence and calm, foreign torpors delude the formerly quiescent terminals allowed to delay them from their relevant descriptions, overt, sentimental, curious and delayed they pass from one darkening into another, which calms them down their alleys however a passing is mated to its opposite; they call them out and leave them singing what they think is less than deception toward the easier days have sent them formerly they spoke about anything that came up and left the rest for communication and information, or how the stories are made up of similarly arranged data most of which is curious detail arranged on the flat plane of memory, hours bent into playthings the moods of which delay your own sensations forgetting the names the give the other days and nights of recall and act, or memories among the peasants has a playful ring about it into mornings and evenings of remembered presence, the lighted hours are called up by these days and nights of what was noticed in another era would be called or recalled by them the singular hours formed by alligators relegated to descriptive sensation by the powers of decision which score them beyond the doorways the time-movers have altered for their own reasons with nothing to do but wait for something to do is the nature of this release from tension, at least with a machine at your disposal he has them allowed by the powers that be beyond them loosening them by the teeth that stick in your hand for reasons you forgot to mention to them in the moonlight that sends them back and forth at home or beyond them singing and sinking at the same time you slept or slipped he says and sticks it outer forward forever the lighted sphere is focused on internal matters as eventual singularity and a more or luminous disregard for specificity itself in matters too important to even be discussed by lesser beings in their more or less homely regard of the moonlight within the grasp of those who doubt the hours are made upon the bed of fame with latent scorers looped into the removers who linger over them in the motors of formulation, hearers and lopers looping cows and handmaidens have left the stairwells looser than anyone thought possible in these lingering debates about quality and sensation, or how anything could be so possible with so little at stake is another unredeemed sentence in the midst of which he allows the motor to recoil as gear and tooth hover inside this as the end of the age and more or less as the end of the period, period.

*

The score is out and makes them slower than possible notations clear the air inside your headlines marked by the recoiling hours he marks as time or monuments to celebrated decisions by persons or makers of what passed for language arranged on the scale of being from one to ten to the rest of what follows who calls them along the decisions made into others' offers made by the names they allow to pass for time or space as has so let, as has so let is the formula we keep to ourselves in a more or less permanent arrangement allowed to curtain them down into movers they call them longer or shorter than the space provided to fill it out lets them sail within the scorers who let these singed doors provoke another outburst of delight or relinquish these platonic sensations has anything salient and profunct deliverers you decided to remove beyond the scheming and doubting he has called different every time you call he's in a meeting to declare the curtsey a newer dance declined in perfect time they allow them to descend and stay beyond words they call them "salient features" and flotation devices as words within a paragraph are hovering motives or what passes for and education is equated with passing time in certain situations they call forward and backward for foreign declinations the removal of which clusters before or after them waiting for something to happen you look around the couples at the state of which is meant something left behind the counter top waxed and polished by foreigners you met on the train as has so let, and movement into a newer sphere is intended to settle them down beyond the paler hours you met them; down beyond the days and nights of meetings on the plane of doubt intended to declare the "industry" by its failures of definition in the face of insecurity has them making trucks and parts to ease into the service of others as a motivation to graduation into spheres of activity you held out as simple flip flops of what are called "scored lines of activity" and mentioned in private as the looser acts between people you meet in the course of things, hazards of inclination: he has them in the air around his head, and they meet them sooner than not or notes them meeting as soon as the knots untied the waving stems of oceanic waves internal platforms of looming doubt the names of which you intend to define the cloudier airwaves meeting them in the halls of lightning lightening loads and warping roofs the names of which the names of which have repeated this before again as you mope around the house with nothing to do you meet yourself in the corner of the lots and lots of it, slapped down beyond the screen and porched on contents the least of which moves you along the fingering shores of who you are this morning, calling in late as the day progresses into fillings of cream and icing, hope, despair, joy, the whole meeting made into something profound and potential, coming sooner than you made them, coming against the tides and leaving the rest to the hours between line and act, between spot and time he sneezes a simpler arrow internalized as you call it more or less the same as what passes for a monument for the lessons of the hours mentioned in more obscure texts buried in sand and latent to describe them in what follows for problems internal and motivation beyond them more or less as "more or less" in the elocution of monuments and terns turning out into whoever speaks in a constant state of readiness what has to be returned is now packaged into a more acceptable allowance forgetting what is described as "latent" or "described" and then moved into a category which has as its nomenclature a formulation you mentioned at the beginning of all this, and has as its most formal feature, a doorway which has been painted up and down the rest resting in between utterances as it has nowhere else to go and nothing to do you sit and watch the hours go by and by again the minutes claiming no other reason for existence than the movies you left on hold other allowances have made them cool or hot, and then allowed the rest a passage to another climate, how you have made them out of dust or air or left them alone along the moodier climates hear them out or let them alone beyond the doubts you have about what you are doing to linger among the darker natives as meet the rest resting rested beyond the doorway gloomed hirsute or hair suit, they meet and claim the rest a weekend for pasta lovers, lodged in the past, as it were, and went.


*

At rest as has, the rest has a rest at rest. You are at rest, as has, and rests at the rest, having the rest at rest. As has, so let. And internal is as has, to rest at the rest. And into other as the rest has at least as much as the rest has, to rest at the rest, and have as has, so let. For further moves, the rest is at the center of at least what the rest has to leave onto the rest, others after others and into other offers after the others. Would and has, to have at the other rest, as has, so let to become into the rest of the others as has the rest into other offers to have as has, so let. But beyond, to have at rest the other offers have as has, so let. Toward the rest, have as rest at the rest to have other offers to let, but rests toward the others as have into other offers to let, as has, so to let the other offers rest, as has. Foreplay has rest, at other offers to let, so have. As to let, so others rest has have, so rest. This is the other offer: as rest, so has, and as other foreplay rests, to have as other offers, so has the rest to have, or into others has at rest the other offer, and into the others have as rest to other offers, the rest rests. Here the rest rests, as other offers have as has, so let the rest rest, to have as foreplay, the rests rests as have and into other offers, to have as others offer, the rest as has, and into others, to rest as has and into as rest rests, the others let, as has, so offer, to rest as rest, and offer as offer, here it is, and into into, as rests, so have, or as has, so rest, to other offers, so leave and rest. And going on into the rest as has to delight in after offers, into the others rests as into says to go the rest to stay into anything has to say stop one more time is into anything and into stopping into the rest says to stop.



*

Formerly as goes on into water waiting into lesser degrees is more then one can get beyond or into what has to stay alone or rest within the morning arrows of light bending into angles of delight and meeting them in the air is what has to tell them stopping and relevant has movement, what stays is the residue of meaning inherent in the motion between static points on a line extending out beyond what elevates the formular and disc-oriented motions of what lies beyond the beyond, angling into colors left in the dust heavier than water itself clinging the hither angles of more or less grey dusky loops arranged in the circular meanings of language denotation and repose is what loops around the sentence in the leanings toward what clings to the descriptions on the screen, green and blue and clearer to the edge than you'd realize, stopping to think about what is easier than the checks left on the table between dinner and the rest resting out of the moods and tempos left along the trail, between the bushes and the top of the hill or leaving and then leaving and coming back between what passes and what stops to lurk along the hedges and rows of trees, leaves, rocks, pathways in the brain's disorders as memory or sensation or the etched lines of reminiscence have you dangling between who you are and what was left behind the last time you left too soon to be remembered, your name, his angles and clothes disarranged along the table, piled on the floor and motivated by the quarters of the house and garden, closeted, benign, foreign, stupefied, rambling discourse the meaning of which, the meaning of which and closes, left, stony and umbrella, or his campaign for leadership elongated by passion and disuse, the day winds down to nothingness and dies into unremembered silence as the cloudy positions recall what was left behind in the haste to leave.

II
At hours termed the overt symbols of release them forward handing out in the rooms freshly painted the moon released out of anything named or calmed before the rest becomes another name for what went by too fast to declare the openings opened or closed the same air resembling the former names were called out loudly enough to be recognized as words are flux and intent, the scorers have their uniforms on starched tight and plenty enough to loose the hours former lines have crept along the ways too fast to declare them words even and profound at favors flung before the waves have cracked and spun among the terminals are both end-stopped and locations of entry for the flowers at the fold and folded forward plenty hung and colored by intent to decimal and point, to circuit and delimit or boundary of, map of claims into the forward entries flung about, stung about and fooled to slip them singly or in doubt they come too soon to be counted as something staid or simple, filing flings your abbreviated doorways among the colors grey and green is stiff enough to retreat in all friendliness beyond the doubters have them claimed as words do in definite penetrations of the empty mind along the craft-spoken or otherwise hanging from the top and clearing out, smoothing down and holding, or fluttered through the play of the thing, at score and tension,m at loop and mentor, hovers-out, clears, folds forward slowly easing down and held. At air remove the terms execute and domain to forward motives and air-drawn toward the newer or more remote layers below and beyond as what passers there are aimed into another looming score is another and later and into the dusk, color or central options are the code of the day, roped and died down to the rocks as they are what they are, you know the rest rests between segments of doubt the revelations are more or less spontaneous enough to be called surprise. At hat. And they come too fast to call anything but "names" in some inner game of sense, sensation is the key to description; blue noises are the mode of the day today, blue noises wrapped in their outer coils of something you forgot to name today what calls out is the tune of tomorrow, a happier delegation has received the visitors from another plane in their fancier costumes of what has to be described only as something unusual is happening between lunch and the time after what you left along the street, clinging to the more familiar recollections is what you have to mark as a denotation or a manner of regard isolated by the mind's own claims for attention to risk, in the manner of someone slower who has passed these hours inside your day today, heat in the musk-scented hours describes the loop descent, the hour of rent and payment has become a way of life to those the names of which, the manner of which is repetition. How. And heavier hours claim your time as passage and remote, another nice day spent in front of what was once behind or maybe just left out to air and into the recollection of names, a day and its blue messages, marking yellow and orange as afterthoughts and as association where they are, and there is where they were, that's simple enough to be less than speech in the silence of the afternoon, they left and then left again, being of two minds, being of two bodies as well lets them off the hook, the burning hours marking color into clouds, headier moves are let off as well, and accumulate to sentences or senses the same way you'd make a sandwich, light between pieces of bread is called something else, but not too soon to be another mistake, bent around the hook hooking in and staying held up, held off, and later than that, it is analysis which claims his time for the name of the position described in the television hours alert in front of the couch on the floor with two pillows behind your head, lets the day go into a more reminiscent mode for purposes of recall, not so much redundant as just not left behind, but to the right, the right to be left alone, left behind or turned out to the likelihood that the followers have some reason for being there at all, the branch of which has angled off from the center stem-like adhesion or muscle, from the more linear attributes they have made into a sort of identity, sloping tree-lined avenues which describe a state of forgotten history, here at the end of time where there are no names but the one you have.

*

A page is like that; going on along its own aluminum and hesitant lower and made of the marks which are no longer legible at all, a polite retreat from all that is confining, made neat and houselike, forgetting immediately what preceded the transition, passage being the main event from which all calculations are drawn, quartered, buttered and met, melted and mounded along the looser realms of doubt and forbearance. It is thus the movies meet them slower-paced than even the preceding hours of song and presence, where are these roads designed among the grey speech of oil rig and dusky sandworms from the movies made of the illusion of the crows, working on the surprises, afterwards got out of the car, said he's ready for us, streets deserted with coconut pie and an eclair cut in half by the preceding conversation, a piece of which associates itself with the listening mind and then hoops it out sandwich-like they arrow in to tell the listeners than an anniversary is more for celebration than declining years marked at the end of the page, which is more like this than liking then and now, into there; it is this, and then moving from paragraph to parachute descending slowly down the hours into a sleepier waiting form eventlike and eventual, they call grey and blue the names of the day, forever unknit, typed out by type, formed out along the more formal recluse of this day moved by empirical notions, or more formal words used in lesser consequences from another scope of regard, pages turning in the next room, you wait for the boom, the bottom to fall out along the scanning green cursor which lets if off the hook to become another demeanor in the midst of which this occurs and then follows to the conclusion of this allergic reaction to air. You are this, and following along the clues left between morning and color, the descent becomes more perfect with every repetition, bad enough to have worked out in it; but ornament is a similar attribute to extend into the airways of the lungs, coming back is not soon enough to let off. Therefore, green is out, definitely settled out; the outer settlers have their own languages, spaced-out terms for space and the rest of it, whatever occupies the doomier motives in something rather lesser would underride the unknown of his eloquent passages, passageways are the wave of light that hear the booms and cracks of light toward which the plant tropates (verbally, to tropify; as active agent: tropane), visually bending into the light around your body, attracting the reeds, vines and so forth, go gather around your body in a sort of cagelike definition of the form itself, an undemanding air of relief encompasses the Organis Magnificus Tropatus somewhere around the hearing of the song, a matter of "hearing light". Smattering, then, of light, as vocalizations occur and reoccur to be the thing itself in between would be the answer to clothing, rather, as a protection which can be heard, but which is yet an organic communion of the unseen world indicating that passage and clothing are both reminiscent of the definitions applied to the interior markings of the lesser domination of category to plasm, and how specifically these established esotericisms deride the potentiality from which other days' events are described.

Portland, Oregon, 1986



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TOWARD REIFICATIONS OF EXPERIENCE:

Reading Processes, Transcendence, and
Thomas Taylor's Das Maarchen
Susan Smith Nash

At rest as has, the rest has a rest at rest...Here the rest rests, as other offers have as has, so let the rest rest.

The seduction of this passage lies in repetition--let me rephrase that--I could have said the seduction "rests" in repetition, and yet I know that if I did that, then I would be immediately connected back into the mantra-type mediative energy of Taylor's text. What would that reveal? Taylor's mantra-like rhythms provide the reader the assurance that nirvana is achievable in the here-and-now, and that it is a condition of mind, rather than an afterlife ideal. The mantra also centers the mind in an internalized discipline and an exercise that sharpens an awareness of the inner landscape--the ideologies, paradigmatic constraints, gender polarities, and ontological structure--that lend morphology to systems of knowledge. The art of the mantra lodges in the art of the heuristic--that for the first time, we can watch in voyeuristic anticipation as we engage ourselves in the step-by-step uncovering and "laying bare the device" that goes with this process.
How do we examine the paradox of "rest" that Taylor brings to the surface in this passage? It's a "When Sunny Gets Blue" sort of contradiction--thee is an ontological condition to address here, and that is the condition of embodied opposition, when each positive body contains a grain of its inverse. I'm not suggesting that embodied opposition is a simple dialectic. Instead, it is, as Taylor puts it, the place where "the rests rests" and the "rest rest"--the tempo is built on pauses (rests) and an emphasis on surviving and remaining, so that one is one of the "rest." So, the "rest" is a controlled view of Otherness. This involves a mental or psychological fragmentation that leads to self awareness. We look at the part of ourselves--the "rest" of ourselves--as if it were split from the core and available for examination.
When the "rest rests," we fragment into sections that allow a Lacanian-style examination. In His Other Self: Men Looking at Women Through Art, Wendy Lesser summarizes the essence of Jacques Lacan's contributions to literary analysis:
In Lacan's version [of mirrored selves], the Freudian self often seems the equivalent of one of Philip Guston's late paints: a single gigantic eye accompanied by a cigar. Lacan's dependence on the visual aspect of understanding is overwhelming, and words like reflection, imagination, and speculation are crucial to his sense of the way the mind works (Lesser, 15).
I'm not suggesting that Das Maarchen requires that one think of knowledge-acquisition in only the most iconic way. In fact, the "rest" section transcends the semiotic by subverting symbolism itself--the words are stripped of their semiotic content, blurred together, and senses are merged to actually call into question the ability of language to nail itself to a sign, symbol, or semiotically-unmovable bundle of relationships.
In reading Das Maarchen, one is reminded of Thomas De Quincey, who, in Confessions of an English Opium Eater, asserts that the proper vocation of the artist is "the exercise of analytic understanding" (De Quincey, 99). How one goes about gaining analytic understanding provides great insight into the condition of human spirit--how a sense of boundlessness prevails, even when confronted with the very material limits to self. De Quincey's mindset sometimes resembles Taylor's:
Now, for the most part, analytic studies are continuous, and not to be pursued by fits and starts, or fragmentary efforts. Mathematics, for instance, intellectual philosophy, &tc. were all become insupportable to me; I shrunk from them with a sense of powerlessness and infantine feebleness that gave me an anguish the greater from remembering the time when I grappled with them to my own hourly delight (De Quincey, 99).
These "analytic studies" require one to "linger among the darker natives as meet the resting rested" in a study of contrasts and pauses--a way at getting into the mind's structures by painting a picture of what is not, through the construction of shadows and relief.

Formerly as goes on into water waiting into lesser degrees is more than one can get beyond or into what has to stay alone or rest within the morning arrows of light.
To understand what it means to be "formerly" requires a clear knowledge of before and after--of temporal relations and how they have exercised an effect on the self. Further, one must have an awareness of how cultural or ideological forces may cause one to transform oneself from one stage to another--from before into after. This forces one to plunge into the center of mediation, in the manner that Frederic Jameson describes:
...mediation is the relationship between the levels or instances, and the possibility of adapting analyses and findings from one level to another. Mediation is the classical dialectical term for the establishment of relationships between, say, the formal analysis of a work of art and its social ground, or between the internal dynamics of the political state and its economic base...mediation...is the establishment of symbolic identities between the various levels, as a process whereby each level is folded into the text, thereby losing its constitutive autonomy and functioning as an expression of its homologues(Jameson, 39).
Das Maarchen is mediation in action--the artistic depiction of the ever-shifting, ever-metamorphosing surfaces contained in the mediation process--this is the intellectual and ontological scaffolding that accompanies the mind going from one level to another.
As such, Taylor investigates paradigms of the unconscious. In doing so, he examines the artist's relation to the world in a late 20th-century neo-Copernican revolution, "a revolution in ideas, a transformation in man's conception of the universe and of his own relation to it" (Kuhn, 1).
Yet, to effect a neo-Copernican revolution is not as easy as it sounds. As historians of science have pointed out, one can meet with impediments. There are so many limitations regarding theories and theory formation, that it is a small miracle that theory change occurs at all. For one, new theories tend to be expressed in terms of their predecessor. Either the new theory is a variation of the old one, or it counters it by reversing its claims. However, to propose a theory that merely opposes or counteracts the original theory is no innovation at all. For a theory (or paradigm) to be new, a new language must be utilized, one which invalidates or nullifies the previous paradigm. Taylor is proposing a new language, and thus a new theory of poetic thinking.

De Quincey, Thomas. Confessions of an English Opium Eater.
Jameson, Fredric. The Political Unconscious.
Kuhn, Thomas. The Copernican Revolution. 1960.
Lesser, Wendy. His Other Self: Men Looking at Women Through Art. New Haven: Yale UP, 1991.

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