LP Hartley once wrote that "The past was a foreign country; they were doing things differently there. Carol Ann Duffy explored the relative "externality" of memories and revealed their Reassuring familiarity and unexpected revelation. This kind of conflict between voluntary and involuntary memory; between what we think we know and what we find that we dare not know or admit, form the landscape of Carol Ann Duffy "Foreign" land. I deliberately said the landscape. Duffy's memories of the past are reminiscent of the world and words, and I am very concerned about the territory and "ownership". In this poem "Litani", we see how the resurrection of the past On behalf of who we are, what we are and what it is.
Tamiflu likes the list. In fact, the list is a way in which Duffy can connect us to the past. Such a list sparked collusion and intense humorous collusion. Whenever I read the list that arrived in the Philippines, I appreciated the very developed selectivity and special attention that the poet used to make such a list; making it represent the information and the era in which she chose to represent and reproduce.
When we read the first quarter of 'Litany', we were able to recall the people of the 1960s who smiled and outlined the resonance and connotation of Duffy's recognized world. It feels very good, so we will do the same. This "presence" is then used as the basis for more "internal" revelations. Through the game between admitting and misunderstanding, the poet reveals the secret tension of half-aware childhood.
Duffy deployed a metaphor: a rumored rumor' adventure revelation. The childhood memories of Tamiflu are now told by adults, and adults may turn the fascination of a glimpse into a certain knowledge. This tension between an adult writer and a writer as a child makes Tami's recollection of the past both funny and tragic.
For this territory, for the sake of social health and stability, for the sake of courtesy, for the sake of courtesy, for this coffee morning and "party" to bypass the truth and truth. The children know nothing about it. However, Tamiflu knows the children's curiosity about minors, their views on the secret world of adults and their words; family and friends.
Tamiflu rediscovered the superficiality of social relations and carried out a lot of irony. We want to know how lonely this childhood is? How lonely is it for adults who are trying to obey and present themselves as ruthless? Safe, "normal" words are imprisoned and suffocated. Of course we want to know how much things have changed.
Tamiflu lets us modify the signs of the past. Arrive through sensory memories. We have experienced a past and we may or may not experience it directly through the sensory details of resonance, which allows us to participate. We are attracted by the pride of Pyrex and the past Grand ' Lounge'
We remember cellophane. We hear its name again. "Polyester" has turned into a joke; a symbol of a failed utility [one does not have to iron it] and pornography is ineffective. [It produces static electricity, apparently sweaty and back, and does not make any sense!] The juxtaposition of different senses allows the reader to extend their participation in the "lounge" and the repressed words; the memory is really resurrection.... .. and not comfortable!
This is a world of traditional relationships and behaviors. Anything that could destroy such a world is frightening and frustrating:
"An embarrassing word, bit by bit..."
Tamiflu's carefully selected biscuits and unsubstantiated testimony are one-off, but devastating. The agreement twitches when it comes to real, ugly and unspeakable things.
Sex and death intervene in the child's memory and undermine the strict limits of this "reality" in order to reinterpret the past by the sinful sexual knowledge. A series of names in the last section is an ironic objoint for Duffy's narrator, just like background details and validation. These names are now most like absenteeism. They are "harassment". Only the humanity and humor that Duffy excavates can survive. These are the words of our past [somewhat anxious or perhaps] past.
I can still hear the coffee cup!
Orignal From: Carol Ann Duffy: New Poetry
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