Oh captain my captain, or a look back at John Keating

At some point, Robin Williams will be forgotten, but not today. There are numerous movies of his which have influenced me a lot, and it would take too long to mention them, especially since my list would preserve or omit entries from someone else’s.

One such was Dead Poets Society, which was made (checks imdb, whoa!) 31 years ago. This is a short blog post; I don’t intend to ruminate or describe, but merely mention (a fragment of) a quote (emphasis mine).

We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.

Poetic Engineering

I stumbled upon this by an extremely oblique reference1: an essay by Edgar Allan Poe, on “The Philosophy of Composition”. Now if you were laboring under the impression that poetry is composed exclusively out of some sort of “divine madness” and springs forth spontaneously from the poet’s soul — well, Mr. Poe will gladly correct you.

Here he presents a sort of “behind the scenes”, and uses not some academic third party textbook example, but his own famous poem, “The Raven” — so instead of hearing some critic tell you what he thinks the author thought at such-and-such time, hear it from the author itself.

The deconstruction of the poem is quite total, and knowing how a magician performs a trick usually leads to a superbly anti-climactic ‘meh’ moment, so you’ve been warned.

Here’s an abstract that conveys the general idea (emphasis mine):

For my own part, I have neither sympathy with the repugnance alluded to, nor, at any time, the least difficulty in recalling to mind the progressive steps of any of my compositions, and, since the interest of an analysis or reconstruction, such as I have considered a desideratum, is quite independent of any real or fancied interest in the thing analysed, it will not be regarded as a breach of decorum on my part to show the modus operandi by which some one of my own works was put together. I select ‘The Raven’ as most generally known. It is my design to render it manifest that no one point in its composition is referable either to accident or intuition- that the work proceeded step by step, to its completion, with the precision and rigid consequence of a mathematical problem.

  1. If you must know, a very brief mention (a couple of seconds), in this lecture by Gerald Sussman on the 60th birthday of Dan Friedman. 

The ironic poetry of The Grand Budapest Hotel

I saw the movie when it came out, and then for a second time last month, with my parents. If you’ve seen it, you might have found yourself wondering, “what’s up with those poem fragments? are they real?” Well, wonder no further, and thank the random person on the internet who collected them1 (and perhaps also (cough!) your humble curator who stumbled across them).

P.S. It turns out they were all written by Wes Anderson himself

P.P.S. Yes, “Boy with Apple” is obviously not real either