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.