Octavio Paz Lozano was a Mexican writer, poet, and diplomat, and the winner of the 1982 Neustadt International Prize for Literature and the 1990 Nobel Prize for Literature ("for impassioned writing with wide horizons, characterized by sensuous intelligence and humanistic integrity.")
I need to reread this to fully process it, but my mind went nuts because of the multilingual writing so it inherently gets 4 stars. Also, why is poetry so much better in other languages?!
Although compiled almost 40 years ago, an interesting collaborative exercise. As Claude Roy says in the introduction, "Poets are like trees. They are all united by their roots in the earth and branches in the sky. How hard it is to get to a level of WE. The dicter of ich, le jeu du je, the eye of I." The poet is "nobody" and "self" all at the same time; the object of Renga is to move from the heart of things to one's own heart. Imagine four different personalities, nationalities, languages, unleashing their visions.
This chain of poems, written in four languages, doesn’t feature the renga form, despite its title. It features the sonnet, which is called, in one of the four introductions penned for this book, "western renga,� because almost all 27 sonnets are collaboratively written.
This is 1969. Poets Jacques Roubaud, Edoardo Sanguineti, Octavio Paz, Charles Tomlinson have gathered in the basement of a Paris hotel for five days. They have agreed to undertake a collaborative writing procedure that it seems was worked out by Roubaud. Four poets born between 1914 and 1932, in France, Italy, Mexico, England.
Paz's introductory essay offers dramatic disclosures concerning the poetic assumptions challenged by writing collaboratively. Paz puts them in experiential terms, the most insistent one being that to write collaboratively face-to-face is to significantly diminish the poet’s I. He experiences: “irritation and humiliation of the I�; “A feeling of abandonment, rapidly changing into disquiet, then into aggressiveness. The enemy is nobody, the anger involves nobody�; “A sensation of oppression�; “A feeling of shame: I write in front of the others, the others in front of me. Something like undressing in a cafe, or defecating, crying before stangers.� That’s . . . quite something.