Comments on Brittain

I am intrigued about Britton's idea that in what he calls "poetic" language, the writing becomes an "object," and certain kinds of questions about such writing should not be asked, as in his example: "If after reading a poem we think to ourselves, 'So, they practice witchcraft in Peru,' or 'I didn't know Yeats was a spiritualist'--we are framing responses that are inappropriate to poetic writing." Such responses, says Britton, are secondary to the object, for the context of poetic writing is essentially internal.

I'm not sure I agree with him on this point. I do not believe that the distinctions are nearly as sharp as he suggests. Perhaps this is because, as he postulates, poetic writing begins as expressive writing--the same source from which transactional writing begins.

I've said before that it appears that Moffett's theory reflects a linear view of language and that Britton's view is non-linear. But as I read the article again, I'm coming to believe that Britton's theory also has linear qualities, despite the fact that he presents his model in the form of opposite poles, expressive writing being the center. However, in the real world, literally, if one travels along lines of longitude rather than latitude, one will eventually be leaving one pole and moving toward the other. Thus, perhaps we should think of the continuum as lines of longitude rather than latitude. Somewhere along the line, south meets north, but east will never reach west.

Why do I say this? Certainly, a poem is one sense a self-contained object, if you will, and the context is primarily confined to the borders of the page. However, it is in a sense, a microcosm of a larger context and, thus, has some transactional qualities. Sure, one does not have to or may not be able to respond to poet like one would respond to an email message, but there is a conversation taking place in the mind of the reader, directed at the poet: "What in the world do you mean, Mr. Yeats? How can that be?" or "I can't believe you made that cosmic leap!" or, "Wow." Of course, Yeats is dead and gone. Yet, his work continues to reach out toward the reader.

You may ask, "Is anything getting done?" Well, not in the same way a business letter accomplishes its mission, but is "getting things done" to be confined to mere exchange of commerce? What if the reader is inspired to do something after reading my poem? What if the reader embarks on his or own discovery about a subject addressed in the poem as a result of reading a line that speaks to the heart? Is that not, in some sense, transactional?

Again, we can go back to documents like Thomsas Paine's "Common Sense," a pastor's sermon, or one Charles Dickens' novels: Such works inspired people to join the revolution, forgive an estranged family member, or get involved in a movement to eradicate poverty or child labor. Yet, each of those kind of artifacts stand alone in their own right.

So, perhaps the distinction between poetic and transactional writing is not so sharp after all. If they are at opposite poles, as Britton postulates, one can always travel from the north to the south, and vice versa.