{"id":12102,"date":"2014-06-11T04:02:36","date_gmt":"2014-06-11T08:02:36","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/?p=12102"},"modified":"2014-06-11T04:02:36","modified_gmt":"2014-06-11T08:02:36","slug":"coeur-chronique","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/coeur-chronique\/","title":{"rendered":"Coeur Chronique"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Sarner\"<\/a><\/p>\n

In Paris now, on the day of the opening of the March\u00e9 de la Po\u00e9sie<\/a>, a great yearly 4 day event. One major pleasure will be to meet up with old friend Eric Sarner<\/strong>. I had been very happy to learn a couple months ago that this excellent poet, my good friend & sometime translator,\u00a0<\/strong>was\u00a0awarded the Prix Max Jacob 1914<\/strong> for his latest book of poetry,\u00a0Coeur Chronique<\/strong><\/em><\/a>\u00a0published by the\u00a0Castor Astral<\/a>\u00a0with a preface by Michel Deguy. Sarner is\u00a0a true nomad who lives between Berlin, Paris & Montevideo. Besides a number of poetry collections he has also published several travel r\u00e9cits (most recently a superb book on Algeria (Un voyage en Alg\u00e9ries<\/em>) and Sur la route 66<\/em> (travels in the US, of course), and has made a\u00a0living via twenty plus film documentaries for television.<\/p>\n

Here is an extract from a section called “Experience of Winter” that feels\/reads like a continuous\/discontinuous ribbon of writing with just momentary breathing pauses, mawaqif’<\/em>s in Sufi parlance, between the perceptions:<\/p>\n

\n

[…]<\/span><\/p>\n

To flee poetry
\n<\/span>to let it flee
\nto let go
\nthe brilliance
\nthrough the black groove
\non the lam without reason
\nnothing pretty
\nfor example
\nin Montaigne<\/p>\n

to shit in a basket
\n<\/i><\/span>and then
\n<\/i>to put it
\n<\/i>on one\u2019s head<\/i><\/p>\n

there\u2019s need to find
\n<\/span>for each thing its
\nrightful place
\noh! that silent cat
\nover there
\ncarefully without words
\nto flee poetry
\nleaving it the chance
\nto come back by the edges<\/p>\n

Vallejo exaggerates
\nhe who came from
\n<\/span>the heights<\/p>\n

3000 meters
\n<\/span>of andean mountains<\/p>\n

little black man
\n<\/span>resting on his hand
\nhis cane
\nmeditating<\/p>\n

while Georgette
\n<\/span>guards his hat<\/p>\n

triste<\/i> & dulce<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

trilce<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

Vallejo saluted
\n<\/span>this past spring
\nat the Montparnasse cemetery
\nsection XII<\/p>\n

at the end of
\n<\/i><\/span>terraced nature
\n<\/i>and the sparrow block<\/i><\/p>\n

but
\n<\/span>without even his shadow<\/p>\n

This book Diary of Errors
\n<\/i><\/span>I knew Ennio Flaiano for his complicity
\nwith Fellini La Dolce vita <\/i>& 8 1\/2
\n<\/i>but the title before all had stopped me livened
\nup notes, stories, parables, word sketches
\nthe simplicity, delicateness
\nof Flaiano
\nan elderly checkout lady in a bar
\nsighs caressing her dog<\/p>\n

The chestnut trees are in flower
\n<\/i><\/span>and spring is not here.<\/i><\/p>\n

he speaks also of feet<\/span><\/p>\n

set firmly on the clouds<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

and on another day he confesses to have
\n<\/span>told a seven year old girl<\/p>\n

Go away! You\u2019re old!<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

It made her cry all night long<\/span><\/p>\n

Thus all that lives
\n<\/i>has a share in
\n<\/i>breath
\n<\/i>& sme<\/i>ll
\nThat\u2019s Empedocles of Agrigento<\/p>\n

the hidden breath
\n<\/span>where then lurks
\nthe smell of self
\nis what made
\nus recognizable
\nby the other
\nwhen he was
\nlost
\nnaked in the shadow
\nwithout a living body
\nor on the edge
\nof a nerve
\nof a doubt
\nterrifying<\/p>\n

No illusion on the soprano
\n<\/span>the final accurateness
\n& nothing else
\nthat\u2019s Lacy
\nthe grace
\nabsolute & relative
\noften with no smile
\neither
\non Steve\u2019s\u00a0face
\nso that there exploded
\non it like a rage of
\ninnocence
\na flood of colors
\na tornado
\nof heat as simple &
\ncomplex
\nas each moment
\nso ready to live<\/p>\n

[…]<\/span><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

In Paris now, on the day of the opening of the March\u00e9 de la Po\u00e9sie, a great yearly 4 day event. One major pleasure will be to meet up with old friend Eric Sarner....<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[91,103],"tags":[309],"class_list":["post-12102","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry","category-translation","tag-eric-sarner"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12102","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12102"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12102\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12119,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12102\/revisions\/12119"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12102"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12102"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12102"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}