I am also thinking of "ineffable" in the former sense. At least, I think that if the ineffable were ever to be eliminated, then it would require some sort of "perfect" language which is capable of communicating every possible nuance of any individual's experience. I don't think that our language is presently of this sort, but I also doubt that it ever will or can be. — Luke

Alrighty, I was wrong then. Just attempting to make sense of things.

If knowledge is something that can be communicated via language, and if there is nothing which is not able to be communicated via language (because nothing is ineffable), then there should be no "gap" between what can be known/taught and what can be said. However, you and Banno say that there is such a gap. You both keep writing this off as a mere gap between knowledge and experience - where all that's missing is having the experience - instead of acknowledging the gap that you have both asserted between knowledge and effability. — Luke

I guess I just don't see the need for this standard. I'd say that knowledge is never communicated by speech alone. Knowledge is an integration of. . . many things. To speak is never to know, though if you know something then you might have something interesting to say.

Let's just grant this "gap", as you call it, between what we can say and what is known. It strikes me as being somewhat prosaic -- we all know that there's more to the world than speech, and there's more to knowledge than speech too. So what does this calling attention to a gap do for us?

Further, having called attention to the gap, now we can talk about it. So we might introduce a distinction between, say, theoretical and practical knowledge. Now here we have two categories, one of which refers to speech, and one of which refers to action. And we can predicate things of action in general. So, we can talk about it. That doesn't convert activity into speech, only goes some way to making the case for effability -- let's call this kind of effabilty the ineffably effable. Some sort of in-between stage, where we do, after having experienced something, communicate our experiences with others who have had that experience too. It's not as easy as "The cat is on the mat", but it's not as hard as "The soul is immortal"

I'd say there are some categories which don't quite count as this in-between, where experience, repetition, and education is enough to give us whatever it is that's missing between speech and knowledge. So I could even grant your ineffability, but then I want to note -- there's more. Such as beliefs in the soul, or that we live in the best of all possible worlds, or that everything has a cause. Those are the sorts of things I have in mind when I think of the ineffable: that which cannot be spoken of, no matter how much experience I acquire, no matter what evidence I bring to bear, no matter how clever I am -- God himself wouldn't be able to speak on these things, because to speak on them would be to destroy them.

If I'm reading you correctly @Luke, I think you and I and @Jamal and @Banno are thinking in terms of two different ways we can talk about "ineffable" -- Ineffable, as in unable to be spoken of in principle, and ineffable, as in different from linguistic competence. I think I'm thinking in the former, and you're thinking in the latter.

To know how a clarinet sounds one has to hear the clarinet. I can tell you that it has a smooth sound, softer than a saxophone, the hum of a seriously cool cat . . . or I can pop "clarinet" into youtube and turn on the first clarinet concerto.

In church the analogy that was frequently used was the taste of salt -- how could you tell someone what salt tasted like if they'd never tasted salt? And by way of analogy, how could you tell someone what God's love is like if they've never felt God's love?

There's an element to knowledge that includes experience. I'm just not sure I'd say that makes it ineffable in the former sense, though I'd agree with you that Mary learns something and we learn something by experiencing that isn't the same as words, nor could it be conveyed by words alone. They'd also have to experience the sound of a clarinet, the taste of salt, the love of God, or the color red to say they had experienced these things, and no amount of textual familiarity would give them the experience, and they even learn something from experiencing.

But in the former sense, after learning something, we do talk about it after the fact. Like @Banno's coffee example -- while we learn from experience, that doesn't mean we are unable to speak about experience. In fact, it seems to me, by experiencing -- and the more we experience, the more we differentiate, the more we proliferate/share our categories and so on -- we make what was ineffable, effable. It's just a matter of time and experimentation. At least in the case of experience.

It is "something to be done" because it cannot be said. That's what makes it ineffable. Otherwise, we should be able to say it. — Luke

When I read this it feels like it'd go the same with objects... we cannot say objects, and so they are ineffable. But the reason we can't say objects is that they aren't words, not because we can't talk about them.

Now, that's just how I'm reading this. It seems like you'd agree that we cannot say objects since objects are not words, but we can talk about objects (and hence objects are not ineffable). So what is it about activity that makes it different from objects? Why can't we just note that activity, experience, and words aren't the same, but we can talk about them?

However, when I see "white" light, I may in fact have the private subjective experience of the colour red, and you may have the private subjective experience of the colour green. We will never know, as it is impossible for me to put my private subjective experience into words, as it is impossible for anyone to put their private subjective experience into words. — RussellA

In the most literal sense I think your final statement is true -- experience is not the same as words. And words are not cabinets into which experience gets placed and launched over to a conversation partner or reader (nor, for that matter, would I put concepts or thoughts into words, since words aren't cabinets at all -- "semantic content" rides along the vehicle metaphor, but it is a metaphoric understanding of language, I believe)

Also, I think that this notion relies upon visual metaphors about experience -- sometimes, we do know the private, subjective experience of others, and sometimes we are able to express our "insides" perfectly well to someone. After all, I followed along with what you were saying pretty well. And while it's possible for our spectrums to be inverted, we're also able to distinguish between color-blinded persons and non-color-blinded persons, in spite of (in my case at least) not being color blind. So there are cases where the private/public distinction just doesn't hold up so cleanly.

This by way of complicating the notion of "experience" as counting as ineffable.

Attempting to compete with the thread on truth, eh? :) -- I'll admit this has been a thought in the back of my mind...

The ineffable can't be said, by definition -- but we reach all the same. I guess in reaching, the question is -- do we grasp what was there, or do we not? And as odd as it sounds I think that both answers are right?

Another is to treat "ineffable" as a second-order predicate, somewhat like existence, such that ascribing ineffability is not ascribing a property but saying something (what, exactly?) about those properties. — Banno

I think the "what, exactly?" would be explicable, but only within a tradition. Mostly, though, I'd say the ineffable is either moral or aesthetic, so a judgment on statements about good/bad. But I'd quickly add that this is merely a best guess, that it is wrong -- because here we are articulating it.

(Tempted to go into a Levinas diatribe here ;) )

How long is a thread about what cannot be said? — Banno

Infinite. Isn't the ineffable, in its own way, the inspiration for these questions?

I feel that we are in a nihilistic position where we can't can justify any of our actions by reference to rules, objectivity or teleology. — Andrew4Handel

The topic would better be called 'Deciding what to be'. What to do follows from what one is. — unenlightened

More than the best you can do?

You're not happy with what you are doing. So do something different.

Me, I'm going out to trim one of the shrubs in the back yard, and work out where to plant the second lot of corn.

It really is that simple. And that hard. — Banno

I think my main question was supposed to be how is it possible to do the act of choosing? — Andrew4Handel

Me, I'm catching up on some of my self-assigned homework on a lazy lab day while looking forward to some time off.

I'd reiterate -- it really is that simple, and that hard.

I empathize with your line of questioning so, so much. There's a reason I like all those existential authors ;) -- but I think these are the answers I agree with the most. You really do just pick something and see what happens.

I registered and starting poking through today. I'm liking the sections on Descartes a lot, whom I've tackled and all but their presentation of him is so much clearer than I could put it.

Why did you do it? Where did you go? — hypericin

Far too many reasons to make sense of :D -- for me, looking back now, I'd say I probably didn't have much of a choice. I certainly wasn't happy with my life situation and job and such, though. But me-then wouldn't have put it in those terms, either.

Where I went -- all over. Also too long to list. Probably wouldn't help you make a decision either, to be honest.

I have no regrets.

But let's just say I know what I'm saying when I say 5 to 10 years down the line ;) That's the consequence you'd be looking at, more than likely, so it's one you should consider

Yes. Reason doesn't ever motivate. Rather, we perform motivated, driven reason. Our drives are animal, dressed up with reason after the fact. Reason is a tool to fulfill our drives.

But... if only it were so simple. We are blessed and cursed with the feedback loop that makes thought possible. Thoughts are cyclical.. we think them, then we react to them, by feeling, and by thinking. And then these feelings and thoughts are reacted to, and so on. These feedback loops can drive an anxious mind to distraction. — hypericin

I'm glad we can agree that reason doesn't motivate.

So I'm willing to grant we have knowledge of the future that's good. Else, I wouldn't be tempted to use words like "the collapse" -- I see that as a very real possibility. One which all societies, regardless of their political structure (from, at this point, monarchies, anarchies, theocracies, liberalisms, capitalisms, and socialisms) will have to deal with.

However, I'm going to highlight something I've said before in responding to this:

Both quite doubtful imo. — hypericin

Of course your opinion would say these are doubtful, else your words wouldn't make sense.

But are you willing to bank that doubt to a point where, 5 or 10 years down the line, you're broke and need to remember/relearn everything again to start an entry level position?

Because if I'm right, at least, that's your outcome.

Again, not from a place of judgment. Heh. That's basically what I did. Buuuut.... just noting, while I made that decision, it's still a big one to make. If you're already decided, really, then nothing I say will sway you, just as it didn't sway me.

Note that I have anxiety disorder, and have since early childhood. So, this looming doom affects me more than others. I wish it didn't, and I'm sure I'm not alone. — hypericin

I've tried to be open about my depression on TPF -- because I don't want others who I know feel alone to have confirmation of their loneliness. So -- you are not alone. Mental disability is a struggle.

While you are right that it'd be better to spend what you have if the future is bleak, I myself have to remind myself that the future is bleak -- to me. The future, however, is open. We have no knowledge of the future, really. We have good predictions, but it's happened so many times now that basically anything we believe could turn up to be wrong.

That's just a fact, in the sense of a true statement.

But true statements do not motivate us, as human creatures.

What motivates us are... something else that doesn't need to be defined, because defining it will already put it under the rubric of reason, and I'd generalize to say that reason is not our human-creature motivation.

***

In practical and blunt terms, I'd say that your years, no matter how young you are, will not lead to the catastrophe you fear -- unless you happen to choose to cut yourself off from the one source of material income you have. It'd be fun for awhile, and I cannot say I've made good decisions in these matters so this comes from a place of no judgment. But you'd have to ask yourself if you *really* need that "fun for awhile", and are willing to work your way back up after a break, because the collapse is still preventable and probably won't effect people who have decent work right now.

Ah, you're right. There wasn't a citation, even. Alas, reading is theory-laden, even on a forum post.

Is that what Kant is doing? Am I on the wrong track? — Srap Tasmaner

I'm also curious about the context now. Do you have a citation @KantDane21 ?



Eh, I think that Kant's use of "cognition" isn't that loose. A cognition is not merely to think of something, but rather to think of something within our faculties -- so we have concepts and intuitions(intuitions, itself, is a very specialized term within Kant's philosophy too), and noumena fall outside of both of those -- we can put a sentence together that looks truth-apt, but because of our faculties being what they are we are unable to judge that sentence. Hence, we cannot cognize the noumena "The soul is immortal", though we can posit it and desire to know its truth value.

Take for example Roman Jakobson's Functions of Language. — Dawnstorm

This was an excellent resource for me, so thank you. Just the sort of terms I'm looking for to think through my thoughts.

I've already assigned myself other homework, but in the spirit of continuing bad habits I'll assign myself more. ;)

But I have the desire to take some of the theories from that website and make it mesh with the question from earlier about counting phrases, but after I have your terms here down better:

Basically morphemes make words make phrases make clauses, and after that you get into text analysis and leave the realm of syntax. A phrase can be composes of words and other phrases and even clauses. For example, one way to count phrases, could be the follwoing: "the red apple":

1. Determiner Phrase: "the red apple"
2. Noun phrase: "red apple"
3. a) adjective phrase: "red"
3. b) noun phrase: "apple". — Dawnstorm

Then, apply it to one of the shorter poems we have here.

(in addition I'm still working through The Wasteland in order to provide an interpretation, but I don't have enough to share as of yet -- it's all impressionistic)

For me I thought of the "in which case" clauses as having the P xor ~P "distributed over" them, emphasizing the "Either" at the beginning, and these were functioning like a definition of terms.

So if P then Q, xor if ~P then R
Q = "in which case there can be no cognition of noumena"
R = "in which case cognition is not essentially cognition of appearance"


But it's confusing to me because of the words "there can be" and "not essentially", and then they both read like restatements of the original position -- if all cognition is of appearances, in that very case there can be no cognition of noumena (since noumena aren't appearances), whereas if cognition is not only applicable to the appearances, then in that very case cognition applies to more than the appearances (i.e., it is not "essential" to it).

At least, that's what I was thinking in reducing it to a simple P or not P. Maybe it's too simple, though. (I agree with your rendition, too, just felt the need to explain my thought process)

My worldview has grown steadily more eschatological. The future, in my mind, is now measured in mere years. Due to climate change, exponentially worse and more destructive weather events, and ecological collapse, a devastating Malthusian crisis seems imminent. The future is dark and full of dread. I will not have children, I would never impose the burden of beginning a life at this late, late year. I will quit my job soon... why work for a future that has been stolen?... and spend away my savings travelling, extracting what joy and fulfillment in life remains. Alternately, I can devote myself to activism, for whatever good that would do. These are the available paths to me. My status quo is no longer tenable.

Is this irrational of me? Or is this a rational confrontation of what is? Is the collective turning our heads away the true irrationality, the enabler of this crisis?

Psychologically, how can we confront this terminal historical moment we have all been thrust into? — hypericin

I think eschatological thinking tends to be irrational. It's not just one's own death, but the death of everything, the death of being -- the fear of death turned into a myth of the future, then believed inevitable. This sort of fear, as I interpret him, is what Epicurus addresses: Death is nothing to us. We never experience our own death. We fear this death character like it can hurt us, yet we never meet death. So what is this fear really based on? Imagination -- rather than a particular fear of something, it is a general fear that applies everywhere. And given that the future is open, and we know that death is inevitable, it's easy to put our fears of death into the future. And if the world itself is uneasy, or there are forces that would like us to feel like the world is uneasy (because fearful and anxious people are easier to control), then our minds can very easily build up fears of things we'll never meet, fears of things that never are, fears of things which only have control over us because. . . we fear them.

That isn't to say the status quo is acceptable. It's not.

But if we're to do anything about it, I'd say that escapism into small pleasures is a good place to start -- since we have control over such things -- but the future isn't inevitable either. It's just not something we can do all unto ourselves. It's not a moral project which deals with our character or right or wrong, it's a political project which requires enough of humanity to work together towards preventing the worst possible future.

My logic is very rusty, I have given it a shot below, but not sure if it is correct. feedback appreciated!

"Either all cognition is cognition of appearance, in which case there can be no cognition of noumena, or there can be cognition of the noumenon, in which case cognition is not essentially cognition of appearance" — KantDane21

Honestly I'd render this as "P or not P" where..
P = There cannot be cognition of noumena
or
P = All cognition is of appearance

If cognition applies to appearances only, then cognition does not apply to the noumena.
If cognition applies to the noumena, then cognition does not apply to the appearances only

Maybe in the wider context it's different, but I wouldn't call this sentence an argument as much as a clarification or a definition of two mutually exclusive beliefs (at least according to Kant)

heh, fair enough. It may just be the wrong question, really. It's not that things cannot be poems, but rather, if it isn't one it's a sort of challenge for the poet to turn it into one. So there's no point in delimiting the category, given it's a creative category and will expand as poets continue.

Oof. That's a sad one to read, but good. I connected to the last stanzas the most --

I was walking more slowly now
in the presence of the compassion
the dead were extending to a comrade,

plus I was in no hurry to return
to the kitchen, where I would have to tell you
all about Terry and the bananas and the bread. — mcdoodle

I can feel myself slowing down before going home as I read it, from everything before.

(I've heard of a teacher providing a shopping list as an example of a poem, encouraging analysis. It's not something I've come up with. I wish I still had the reference, but it's just something I heard in a course a long time ago.) — Dawnstorm

Well, today I need to do a bit of shopping.

Bagels
Cream Cheese
cleaning rags


I may add more later. But what makes this not a poem, may be an interesting question too?

The curiosity being if we treated it like a poem then it'd be hard to really mark a distinction between it and poetry. They certainly look similar, even though we think of them as not.

I think there may be a fear here in that we don't want to limit poetry, too. I believe it likely that people have already published shopping lists on more than one occasion to claim it as poetry. So it may be of no interest to delimit poetry, on that basis. Just worth noting that it didn't occur to me as a reader, or to note that I'm not sure what I'm getting out of treating a shopping list like a poem or why I'd want to other than the play with the notion of poem -- which just seems a bit unsatisfying to my mind.

Heh. I'm having a ball. So you're welcome, and I'm having a good time too. I wasn't even sure if this would generate any conversation, it seeming such a queer line of thinking. So I'm glad that there's been a sounding board for my ideas and being able to comb through other thoughts rather than just thinking on my own.


***

Something I am wondering about, from your article and others across the interwebs, is the moral dimension of poetry being emphasized. I think I can get along with a spiritual dimension to poetry -- the experience itself seems ethereal, given to sensitivities and feelings that are often hard to describe. That's an understandable word to me, at least.

But I wonder about poetry's supposed moral educational propensities. It seems to beg the question, on its face -- those with a poetic feeling will say there's a moral to be learned from poetry, and those without it will say there's nothing there but sweet sounding words that need to be relegated to the topics of proper morals so as not to mislead people, and neither poets nor Socrates will see one another's viewpoint.

And I would say -- if poetry could teach morals, then people would be a lot better than they are, given how long it's been about. So while I understand that the feelings evoked by poetry are semi-mystical... I can't say that I'd equate it with moral.

That was a pleasure to listen to -- there are parts of the poem that I couldn't quite sound out right, and Alec Guinness is great, of course :)

His choices throughout really add a depth I didn't get through a first read. I think I was mostly drifting along the level of images and the emotions which various sounds would invoke.

In particular I loved his rendition of the bar room conversation -- I could read the words and knew what it was, but Alec breathed the life into it that I was having a hard time doing. His reading really did sound like a bar room conversation!

Previously, I posted poetry about current Ukranian war by female poets. Who read or responded?
I was trying to move beyond English male-dominated, traditional poems. — Amity

Sorry, while this pursuit is noble, I found them really hard to read is all. The Ukrainian war being so... now. And USians cheering on the whole affair like it's a football match... it's just hard for me to comment on stuff like that. (there's a reason I avoid the Ukraine thread)

Combing through posts to respond in kind --

This Be The Verse

By Philip Larkin

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself. — Tom Storm

I am unfortunately in the mood for gallous humor more often than not, so I laughed -- but it's kind of a mirthless laugh (that's still funny for all that, but dark)

While I'm no anti-natalist, I'd be surprised if there weren't people these days that haven't had these thoughts. And sometimes it's better to belt them out than ignore them, even if I know, deep down, I'd not follow through.

So I basically can't even trust my initial take anymore. — Dawnstorm

:D -- I feel this sentence. But I think that's OK, too. It's not so bad to be wrong, as long as we understand ourselves fallible, and are willing to change -- then it's actually not bad at all. It's just a part of being human.

(Trust me, I even looked about to figure out why I thought the 10-line form was a sonnet, and according to the internet it was an invention of my own mind ;) )

I haven't read The Wasteland, have to admit I'd never even heard of it.
I'm interested in 'the sound of the poem', so I searched Librivox:

There are quite a few readings but this one sounds good to my ears. It is last in a selection of 60.
(I was delighted to find 'The Owl and the Pussycat', a childhood favourite, easy to remember and recite.)

https://librivox.org/poetic-duets-by-various/ — Amity

I was planning on listening to this this morning (Monday's at work tend to be slow) -- but it was blocked. I"ll have to settle for listening at home. (Maybe when I mark out time to type out that essay to share...)

Well, I'm not sure that you can make a general claim about 'modern poets' from a single, stand out example of 'Modernism':
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Waste_Land

But I don't really understand what point you are trying to make.
Meaning is there, no matter the form. — Amity

I may be making a point to no one at all, at least in this discussion. And, definitely -- I'm over-generalizing. All the bad habits of someone trying to figure something out. I think I'd get along well enough with "Meaning is there, no matter the form" though. In fact I think that's what I'm getting at. The form isn't a necessity for meaning. (though I'd say it's a part, or something. Form seems to be a place where meaning can get generated)

But yes, one couldn't make a general claim from a single example. I agree with that. I'm just trying to start from somewhere.... (I'll try and type out the essay from my book to share... it's probably a lot of where this is coming from)

Your post seems more like an explanation of how the poet has used language to help us share that experience. — T Clark

Heh, it's hard for me to separate the two -- I read poems like that, but sloppier than @Dawnstorm -- the figure is as important as the content.

However, this here -- this is what interests me. When I read @Dawnstorm's interpretation of the poem, I found myself able to re-read the poem and feel that interpretation there. In a sense, because of the interpretation, I was able to share in the meaning created.

So I think I'd like to say that the experience of the person reading or listening to a poem is where meaning starts, but there might be more to it than that. There's this element of meaning that can be shared, and is not related to sharing the world, but rather sharing the meaning of the poem together.

Keeping with rule 1, I'll have a go at adding an interpretation rather than just wacky ideas --

***
I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

***

First time I came across this poem was at a poetry reading we used to do back in college for fun -- gather round a circle at someone's home with some poetry books and go round-robin sharing poems. It was also my introduction to Williams Carlos Williams.

It was so short, in relation to all the poems we were reading, it immediately made me laugh. Ever since I've returned to read it I don't even know how many times now, and it still makes me smile.

For me the breaks serve as one beat pauses, and the breaks between stanzas serve as two beat pauses -- though reading it again I think I actually give a three beat pause for the second break. When I read it like this, it's like the way the speaker would have said it, had they been there -- sheepish, slow, guilty -- but not so guilty, because the prize really was just that nice. The first two stanzas read like that slow admission of guilt, but then right after asking forgiveness, by way of explaining himself, the speaker relishes in the memory of the stolen plums, and finishes with that memory.

It makes me think of a close relationship you have with someone, and you know them so well that you know their favorite things -- and somehow along the way they kind of became your favorite things, too. So it sort of serves as a poem of familiarity and friendship, even though it's highlighting that part of familiarity where people are maybe too familiar.

Pretty much guaranteed to make me smile every time.

Always a pleasure to read someone's thoughts with substantive background. This was beautiful to read. Exactly what I'm after.

Also, a beautiful poem. I'm clearly colored by your reading ;), but nothing wrong with that -- I can feel that tension between how the poem reads, slower and contemplative, savoring the ideas, and then a conclusion drawn in the same way that stands in stark contrast to the way the poem reads. Very cool affect on me.

Is that still a poem? If not, what made Williams' version one? The pauses at the end of each line? The way it flowed differently? The way it looks? What about the stanzas? Were the breaks between them just for visual purposes. — T Clark

Music to my ears. The exact sort of thing I'm asking after.

:) Thank goodness. I didn't want any bad blood after so much good interaction. And I appreciate being corrected. It's always better to change beliefs to what's true than hold onto what we think is false.

Love him.

I went to look at his page on Poetry Foundation and didn't like any of the poems they had on offer as much as This is Just To Say:

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

One of my favorite gems.

Heh, yes, feel free to skip over the wacky thoughts. :D I appreciate everything you've contributed, and definitely do not want to lose that feeling of poetry, or the interpretation of poetry, in the wacky thoughts.

Sorry. I don't mean to be dismissive. You're right that it's important to get the facts correct, and I made a mistake. I was hoping the mistake wasn't critical, though, to the point -- but apparently I was wrong there too.

Yup yup, true. Even the example sonnet 108 I gave doesn't follow what I said, too. (does it really surprise you that a person whose fine without form would forget forms? :D But they're still useful to think through) -- and there are other forms of the sonnet, like you mention.

But surely you see what I mean by form now, though? The rhythm-rhyme scheme, at a minimum, defines a poetic form.

So again, a clear-cut example of what your first sentence means would be helpful.
Clarity is necessary for understanding. How will unclear abstract theories provide this? — Amity

Ah! I'm lifting the term from computer science.

So, as the wiki shows, "This is a string!" is a string.

And if it is a sequence then, to make things more abstract, any set of characters with members greater than 1 would count as a string, I think. <-- Keeping it here cuz I started here, but re-reading I think this is a tangeant.

So in positing the question "How many phrases are in a string?" I'm asking is for a rule that would allow a computer to compute some number given any string -- so it couldn't be infinite, but it could be any combination of characters, including spaces and indentations and dashes and every bit that we'd consider in reading a string (as these themselves were added later).

Also, I added the information about direction of reading because we're dealing with poetry which is itself not necessarily digital. It's written on an open page, and the notions of space aren't as easy to define when we have a whole page to write on vs. some line that might include "paragraph break" as a character in its alphabet, which means "new plank of meaning", or something like that -- time to consider something else.

So one rule I could propose in counting phrases would be "every time there is a paragraph break, add one" -- and with the sonnet we'd get a definite number of "10" this way. However, in looking at the content, we'd probably contend this derivation in some poems. Thinking here of lines that invoke two contrasting ideas or feelings or meanings within the same line -- we'd likely, as humans, count those as two phrases instead of 1. Actually I should highlight here just how odd my line of questioning is, because as humans reading a poem we wouldn't usually ask "How many phrases are in this poem?" -- such a question seems to entirely miss the point!

So yes, of course, there is always a combination of subjectivity and objectivity in any text; poem or art.
The 'subjective' is not 'left over'. — Amity

Yes, very true. This is by way of trying to delineate what I'm attempting to get at. I agree that it's not actually left over -- hence why I could see how someone would call into question my little thought experiment, claiming that it is not as innocent as I'm proposing.

But I'm not sure how else to get at what I mean other than by contrasting...

I appreciate all the time and energy spent in responding to my queries. — Amity

Heh, I'm just glad there's enough interest here that I'm able to think through my wacky thoughts. :)

Heh. Sorry. I may have even lost myself. Feel free to skip the philosophy-bits, as they may well just be nonsense anyways :D

What kind of a phrase?
https://natureofwriting.com/courses/sentence-structure/lessons/phrases/topic/phrases/ — Amity

Hopefully any of those, and more, given that poems tend to invent their own phrase kinds.

What kind of a string? Examples?

Well, for now, I just mean a set of characters with some kind of single-dimensional direction that has a place where it begins and a place where it ends -- speaking more formally, basically. When I'm speaking as abstractly at the level of "strings" I'm kind of coming at the question "from the other side" of feeling -- attempting to put down abstract theories that provide clarity.

What is left where... in a poem? What is a 'truth-condition'? Why would a poem need one? — Amity

A poem would certainly not need one -- that's why I thought it a good topic! :D I'll try to explain responding to this:

I struggle to understand what is at issue. Even after I read the following: — Amity

I suppose I'd say that truth-conditions do not exhaust the meaning of even sentences in the form of a statement. The meaning of a statement may include truth-conditions, but my impression is that something is left out, that there is some remainder of meaning not included in such a definition of meaning. I don't think I'm even at a point where anything is quite at issue -- I'm still forming nascent thoughts.

But one of the things I'm trying to do is focus on the bits of language that truth-conditional semantics doesn't. So poetry, and its evaluation, as @SrapTasmaner pointed out earlier, is a concrete topic under which we might come up with distinctions to figure out what this "left over" is -- if we think there's more to meaning that the truth of statements at least. While I don't think that (EDIT, for clarity: I don't think that the meaning of a statement can be reduced to truth-conditions), if someone does then they'd likely see this endeavor as "following from" truth-conditional theories of meaning, where poetry is parasitic upon the truth embedded withing language.

Or the opposite, if someone is more given over to this notion of sentences simply meaning (like myself) and not needing a theory of meaning, though I'm obviously not satisfied else I wouldn't be creating threads like this -- then it would seem all the logical constructions are extraneous, superflous, unhelpful. (but they are interesting!)

Another kind of logic question, grammatical: — Amity

Perfect! That's exactly the sort of question I'm asking after. What does "do" do? Here we're asking about the meaning of the word within a sentence rather than the conditions under which it would be true. What is up with that?

Nothing is obvious to me, perhaps I missed it. If you could explain again, I'd be grateful. — Amity

heh, fair.

I think that the approach which prefers to talk about meaning in terms of a Language "L", such that we're speaking about language in the abstract rather than a particular natural language (like German or English or..), would say that the actual sound of a given unit of meaning is not important. But the phonic structure of a poem is part and parcell to poetry, even when it's not one of the forms.

A linguist would say that you could say--

"Snow is white" is true iff Schnee ist weiß

Has the same meaning because the conditions under which either sentence is spoken are the same. So the phonic structure is "accidental", or could be any other phonic structure insofar that the truth-conditions are somehow "attached" to this phonic bit or plank.

A poet wouldn't. Poets frequently complain about the impossibility of translating poetry. And one of the main complaints in translating poetry is exactly the phonic structure of the poem, and the relations that invokes within the spoken language.

That is -- it's not just the truth conditions that brings about the total meaning of a phrase, it's also all the relationships it holds with the other meaning-bits or meaning-planks (mostly making a distinction here based upon whether one might prefer analytic or holistic "units" of meaning -- the "unit" being undefined at this point because poems don't define things in terms of a sentence, for instance)

What do you mean by 'reasonable delimitation on generality'? — Amity

I mean the domain under consideration. So rather than all languages, I'd at least limit myself to a particular, natural language. But I wouldn't make a theory so specific such that it could only interpret the 108's sonnet of Shakespeare.

What are the 'rules for interpreting a sonnet'?

Iambic pentameter, 3 stanzas. Rhymes as follows: ABAB, CDCD, EE
And then with respect to the question "how many phrases are in a sonnet?" I think we could propose something like 10 phrases. Though there are constructions which would require us to look at the content, as opposed to the form -- so that's not quite a steadfast rule either, only the closest thing to a formal answer to the question. (also itself not necessary for providing an actual interpretation of a poem, which I've agreed is more about feeling and sharing and connecting than this attempt at making something formal)

What is the importance of this question, in any case, when it comes to understanding meaning?
Wouldn't looking at the content be just as helpful? — Amity

Heh, I'm sort of looking at meaning from two sides -- but with respect to poetry I think you're right to say that looking at the content is even more helpful than these questions I'm asking. I guess I'm starting to dip into the philosophy side of the question here, more than the poetic feeling side (though I also want to keep the poetic feeling side going -- rule 1 holds for me still)

Again, do you have a source for your claim about 'modern poets' - who are they and where do they assert that 'formalities are not necessary to convey meaning? — Amity

Mostly just using T.S. Elliot's The Wasteland as a standin for the category, since the essay I read pretty much treated it as a sort of revolutionary moment in poetry, where I thought it was clear he was inventing his own form and following it -- and certainly I felt the meaning that was there, the mood, the imagery... assertion isn't the right word, but I'm claiming that T.S. Elliot shows with this poem that we don't need the classical forms to convey meaning, (though maybe that's controversial! Others might say that it's clearly meaningless because it doesn't follow the forms....)

(EDIT: Just to be clear, the essay wasn't anything fancy -- literally just the introduction to a collected works I own, written by someone who works in the academy in New York at the time in the 80's, from the sound of it. It was a good essay on poetry in general, I thought, though... might type it up to share. Doubt I could find the exact one online)

A poem might initially be 'felt' by a simple read; not fully engaging the mental faculties.
However, to reach any obscure or symbolic meaning requires us to go beyond.
To read again. With care. To connect with our own 'truths'. — Amity

True. So we can't just say, what Davidson calls a "first reading", is the true reading -- the real meaning. And I completely agree that this is part of the interpretive process for poems. We connect to it with our own 'truths', as you say.

Do you see why, then, poetry serves as a good contrast case for truth-conditions to explore the nature of meaning?

A thought on demarcation between poetic and truth-conditional meaning --

Would it be possible to develop a logic of phrases? (heh, probably anathema to the two camps who'd usually ponder one side or the other of that question)

I dont think this would help in interpreting a poem. Mostly still just looking at that "what's left, if we are able to conceptually "take away" truth-conditions?" question.

In particular, it'd be interesting to simply answer the question "what constitutes a phrase?" when we take a string -- is it possible to devise a relationship between a string and how many phrases are in a string?

One thing that should be obvious from my approach is that I don't think there'd be a general answer for all languages, given that poetic meaning -- as I've been rendering it thus far at least -- includes phonic structure. So the question would be about, first, what is a reasonable delimitation on generality such that it's still interesting, and not just a set of rules for interpreting a sonnet?

That's what form does for us, in a way -- it tells us exactly how many phrases a poem will have, and some of its internal structure. In a way poetic form is a logic for answering the question "What constitutes a phrase?" -- and the modern poets basically assert that such formalities are not necessary to convey meaning (thus making it much harder to answer the original question, but taking us back to the original impetus -- the feeling of poetry)

EDIT: Just as an example using the first four indentations of The Wasteland -- you could count 4 phrases, based on indentation, or any number of phrases based upon how you interpret them (like I noted how April itself was also breeding, adding another phrase). But this procedure, right now, isn't even as robust as "guess and check", since there's no necessary answer to the question. Hence, not quite a logic with respect to modern poetry, but possibly a very weak and un-interesting one in the case of defined forms -- still, the focus on counting phrases is interesting for compare/contrast, i think -- perhaps this could count as showing a difference in approaches to meaning.

I can recommend the same recommendation that was given me -- don't worry too much about the scholarly side, just feel it like you would any other poem. I looked up a couple of things along the way, but not much, and enjoyed reading it at that level.

Having added some modern poetry to our list of poems, I automatically feel the need to invoke something classical -- so browsing Shakespeare's sonnets I decided upon --

108

What’s in the brain that ink may character
Which hath not figured to thee my true spirit?
What’s new to speak, what now to register,
That may express my love or thy dear merit?
Nothing, sweet boy; but yet, like prayers divine,
I must each day say o’er the very same,
Counting no old thing old, thou mine, I thine,
Even as when first I hallowed thy fair name.
So that eternal love in love’s fresh case
Weighs not the dust and injury of age,
Nor gives to necessary wrinkles place,
But makes antiquity for aye his page,
Finding the first conceit of love there bred,
Where time and outward form would show it dead.

In Elliot we get something personal, something purposefully undefined -- but a definite mood, I'd say. The essay I read wanted me to read The Wasteland like it would change me, even -- like it was a spiritual experience. With Shakespeare we get a classic form, well executed, on a classic subject -- love and aging. Something familiar re-addressed, re-spoken, and re-assessed.

One of the parts of the sonnet that is like The Psalms is the relationship between the first and second stanza -- it can be put to multiple uses, but usually the 2nd stanza either repeats the first stanza, or it states something which develops the first stanza, or it states something which is in some kind of opposition or contrasting stance to the first stanza. The Psalms use this method to develop meaning -- repetition, development, or opposition.

Something that's different about the sonnet is the couplet which puts a bow on it -- though sometimes that's put to the opposite effect too.

While browsing for poems -- I have never before ventured down the path of The Wasteland until now. And I really did love it. I read an essay beforehand, knowing that the poem is notoriously difficult, and she suggested to sit at home with the sound of the poem rather than starting out with the analytic approach of trying to understand all the references, or even all the images! I can feel the cohesive mood in the poem, but the ending mystifies me.

However, one technique Elliot uses I want to highlight in this thread, because it's a good example of poetic meaning - and it's from the first lines of the first stanza! :D

April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

Here the line-breaks give the lines a double meaning, a really common poetic technique. Whereas truth-condition type meaning attempts to set out a meaning, poetic meaning frequently attempts to employ multiple meanings to give a kind of resonance or mood or theme, or to compare ideas and moods and feelings at the same time with the exact same set of words as they are spoken or read.

So as I read it the first line "April is the cruellest month, breeding" -- clearly "breeding" forms a phrase with "Lilicas out of the dead land", but also April itself is breeding (what is it breeding? Well, the rest of the poem fills that out, somewhat, but only through images and sounds and feelings)