Student Book of Poetry

I still haven’t found that damaged, bound book of Life, the photograph I mean.

I did find this photograph I made of one of my favorite books from college, The Norton Anthology of Modern Poetry.  This photograph is open to a page of Gerard Manly Hopkins’ poetry.  I have this strange relationship with his work; not really being religious, I don’t necessarily relate to the iconography and romanticism of his poetry, but I do love how much of his personal conflicts about faith and meaning are played out in his work.  Though in the end, I think this photograph is really of the marginalia.

I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day./What hours, O black hours, we have spent/This night!…But where I say/Hours I mean years, mean life.  And my lament/Is cries countless, cries like dead letters….

When I made the picture, it took me days.  To make the negative, the enlargement, and then this lavishly toned print.  Futility, really.  It took me a few minutes to make this scan, the same page.

A student of poetry, whatever that means.


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