B. Sniecikowska A Stab in the Ear published

Cross-Roads. Studies in Culture, Liter ary Theory, and History 31 Beata Śniecikowska A Stab in the Ear Poetics of Sound in Futurism and Dadaism C ro s s - Roa d s . S t ud i e s i n Cu lt u r e , L i t e r a ry T he o ry, an d H i s to ry 31 Beata Śniecikowska A Stab in the Ear The Futurists produced most conspicuous, creative, and diverse figures of sound in the Polish avant-garde. The book is a comparative study of the Polish Futurists’ works presented against the backdrop of European literary practices of the time (Dadaism, Italian and Russian Futurism) and the Polish literary tradition (folk poetry, Young Poland). Śniecikowska examines variations on symbolist “musicality,” traces similarities between Polish Futurist word formation and Cubo-Futurist experimentation, compares Dadaist and Futurist concepts of onomatopoeia, analyses applications of Marinetti’s “words in freedom.” The study also deals with uses of glossolalia and echolalia as well as soundsemantic concepts that employ pure nonsense and parody. The Author Beata Śniecikowska is a literary scholar and art historian, Associate Professor in the Institute of Literary Research of the Polish Academy of Sciences in Warsaw. Her main research areas are sound studies, intersections of literature and visual arts, transcultural relations between Europe and the Far East. A Stab in the Ear For Author use only CrossCross -Roads. Beata Śniecikowska Edited by Ryszard Nycz A Stab in the Ear Poetics of Sound in Futurism and Dadaism Volume 31 Translated by Grzegorz Czemiel Lausanne - Berlin - Bruxelles - Chennai - New York - Oxford Lausanne - Berlin - Bruxelles - Chennai - New York - Oxford For Author use only Beata Beata Śniecikowska Śniecikowska A A Stab Stab in in the the Ear Ear Poetics Poetics of of Sound Sound in in Futurism Futurism and and Dadaism Dadaism Translated by Grzegorz Czemiel Translated by Grzegorz Czemiel Lausanne - Berlin - Bruxelles - Chennai - New York - Oxford Lausanne - Berlin - Bruxelles - Chennai - New York - Oxford For Author use only Bibliographic Information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data is available in the internet at http://dnb.d-nb.de. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A CIP catalog record for this book has been applied for at the Library of Congress. Cover illustration: A motif from Tytus Czyżewski, Wąż, Orfeusz i Euridika. Wizja antyczna [Serpent, Orpheus and Euridice. Ancient Vision], Instytut Wydawniczy "Niezależnych", Kraków 1922, printable version of Czyżewski's drawing by Franciszek Benisz. The Publication is funded by the Ministry of Education and Science of the Republic of Poland as a part of the National Programme for the Development of the Humanities 2019-2022 (Project No. 21H 18 0153 87, amount of the subsidy 89 268 PLN). This publication reflects the views only of the author, and the Ministry cannot be held responsible for any use which may be made of the information contained therein. ISSN 2191-6179 ISBN 978-3-631-89555-9 (Print) E-ISBN 978-3-631-89919-9 (E-PDF) E-ISBN 978-3-631-89920-5 (EPUB) DOI 10.3726/b20741 © Peter Lang GmbH Internationaler Verlag der Wissenschaften Berlin 2023 All rights reserved. Peter Lang – Berlin · Bruxelles · Lausanne · New York · Oxford All parts of this publication are protected by copyright. Any utilisation outside the strict limits of the copyright law, without the permission of the publisher, is forbidden and liable to prosecution. This applies in particular to reproductions, translations, microfilming, and storage and processing in electronic retrieval systems. This publication has been peer reviewed. www.peterlang.com For Author use only To Jurek For Author use only For Author use only Table of contents List of abbreviations ����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 11 Introduction ����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 13 1. Onomatopoeias beyond the syntax ���������������������������������� 42 2. Automatic harmonies ���������������������������������������������������������� 43 3. Inter-​word oppositions �������������������������������������������������������� 44 Chapter One “Nebular, milky goblets full of pearls:” Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland ��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 51 1. “Musicality” and sound in Young Poland poetry ���������� 53 2. Young Poland “musicality”: Continuations �������������������� 75 3. Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic ���������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 84 A. Young Poland semantics and modifications of its sound aesthetics ��������������������������������������������������������� 84 B. Young Poland poetics of sound and moving beyond the symbolist aura �������������������������������������������� 95 C. Changes in orchestration, changes in meaning ����� 103 4. Polemical stylization ��������������������������������������������������������� 114 A. Changes in the poetics of sound, changes in semantics ������������������������������������������������������������������������� 115 B. Young Poland orchestration, polemics in the area of semantics ����������������������������������������������������������� 123 Chapter Two Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism �������������������������������������� 147 1. Velimir Khlebnikov’s “gnosis of language” ������������������ 149 For Author use only 8 Table of contents 2. “Secret speech” ���������������������������������������������������������������� 161 3. Word formation and poetic encrustation ������������������ 188 4. Futurist guessing games ������������������������������������������������ 206 Chapter Three Freedom of sound or phono-​semantic riddles? How much Dada is there in Polish Futurism? ��������������������������������������������������� 219 1. The Dada controversy ���������������������������������������������������� 219 2. A carnival of phonemes? ���������������������������������������������� 234 3. Dada-​onomatopoeia? ����������������������������������������������������� 278 4. Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? ������������� 303 5. Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? ���������� 332 6. Ludic stories and images ����������������������������������������������� 363 Chapter Four “plAY, mY shepherd’s pIPE:” Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry ��������������������� 393 1. Folklore phonostylistics ������������������������������������������������ 398 2. Futurist countryside lyricism ��������������������������������������� 403 3. The realism pole �������������������������������������������������������������� 419 4. Stylization and poetic journalism ������������������������������� 423 5. Humorous folklorization ���������������������������������������������� 442 Conclusion ����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 453 1. Futurist poetics of sound ���������������������������������������������� 453 2. Futurist heritage ������������������������������������������������������������� 472 Bibliography ������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 479 Bibliographical note �������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 515 For Author use only Table of contents 9 List of illustrations ����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 517 Index of names �������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 519 Index of terms ���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 529 For Author use only For Author use only List of abbreviations AlMP Ant. Czyż., Pipd Jas., Upms Młodoż., Up PMP Pw Sl Stern, Wz Wa Wat, Pz Wat, Ww Antologia liryki Młodej Polski, ed. I. Sikora, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1990. Antologia polskiego futuryzmu i Nowej Sztuki, ed. H. Zaworska, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1978. T. Czyżewski, Poezje i próby dramatyczne, ed. A. Baluch, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1992. B. Jasieński, Utwory poetyckie, manifesty, szkice, ed. E. Balcerzan, Ossolineum, Wrocław–​Warszawa–​Kraków–​Gdańsk 1972. S. Młodożeniec, Utwory poetyckie, ed. T. Burek, Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, Warszawa 1973. Poezja Młodej Polski, eds. M. Jastrun, J. Kamionkowa, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1967. T. Peiper, Pisma wybrane, ed. S. Jaworski, Ossolineum, Wrocław–​ Warszawa–​Kraków–​Gdańsk 1979. J. Przyboś, Sytuacje liryczne. Wybór poezji, ed. E. Balcerzan, A. Legeżyńska, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1989. A. Stern, Wiersze zebrane, Vol. 1, ed. A. K. Waśkiewicz, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków–​Wrocław 1986. J. Brzękowski, Wiersze awangardowe, ed. S. Jaworski, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1981. A. Wat, Poezje zebrane, eds. A. Micińska, J. Zieliński, Znak, Kraków 1992. A. Wat, Wybór wierszy, ed. A. Dziadek, Ossolineum, Wrocław 2008. For Author use only For Author use only Introduction Although Polish avant-​garde poetry has been extensively researched and described, it turns out that certain areas have not yet been thoroughly explored in scholarly literature. This study presents findings in poetics and literary history, accounting for aspects that have not been scrutinized so far. The basic artistic context and main subject of analysis is the sound structure of poems written by Polish Futurists. Their works, both prose and poetry, are discussed from a comparative perspective, situating the outcome of the short-​lived yet turbulent revolution against the backdrop of the European avant-​garde and broader literary tradition. The specific message of the Futurists, their “focus on being representative of their own paradigms, on their ‘Futurism,’ required.” Edward Balcerzan argues, “that they employ a special repertoire of hallmarks or emblems.”1 Certainly, using special sound devices, ones that capture attention yet challenge readers, is a distinguishing feature of their style. The most famous one-​off issue published by the Polish Futurists was shockingly called Nuż w bżuhu [Knife in the belly], the publication blatantly violating conventional spelling and conventional taste.2 At that time, the sound structures of Futurist poems would indeed feel like a “nuż w uhu” [knife in the ear], while the unusual orthography and typography –​like a “nuż w oku” [knife in the eye]. In many cases, these works can still have the same effect today. The main focus of this monograph is not elaborate verse forms or complicated rhyme patterns3 but rather the various operations conducted at the word level.4 In the hands of Polish Futurists, individual words or their groups became a laboratory of sound and meaning. This cabinet of phono-​semantic curiosities has long called for proper cataloguing and elaboration. This study concentrates predominantly on 1 2 3 4 Edward Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka twórczości dwujęzycznej Brunona Jasieńskiego, Wrocław 1968, 90. Unless stated otherwise, all English translations are by Grzegorz Czemiel. Nuż w bżuhu. 2 jednodńuwka futurystuw, Kraków-​Warszawa 1921. Rhymes would naturally appear in Futurist poetry, but they were not as impor­ tant as various forms of irregular instrumentation. If rhymes are irregular, they are analysed here. After conducting a range of linguistic analyses of Polish poems, Teresa Skubalanka concludes that “lexicality is the constitutive element of these works. As a result, their innovation, experimental character, originality, humour, and provocativeness emerge only upon closer analysis of the words that comprise the basic tissue of the text” (Teresa Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna w oczach językoznawcy,” Przegląd Humanistyczny 5 (1979), 14; see also Janusz Sławiński, “Poezje Młodożeńca,” in Przypadki poezji. Pisma wybrane, Vol. 5, ed. W. Bolecki, Kraków 2001, 108–​9). For Author use only 14 Introduction the field that can be called irregular sound instrumentation,5 sound instrumenta­ tion6 or phonostylistics,7 that is the use of certain devices based on sound repetition such as: alliteration, assonance, consonance,8 paronomasia, polyptoton, onomato­ poeia, anaphora, epiphora, glossolalia or echolalia. Issues connected with versification are mentioned only in passing.9 Obviously, no study of phonic structures in Polish Futurist poetry could be truly complete without a detailed account of versification. However, it would be hardly possible to exhaust and categorize in a single book both the sonic regularities and irregularities of the poems in question. I believe, focusing on phonostylistics makes it possible to present ways in which Polish Futurists “stabbed” their audiences “in the ear.” Let us begin with the fundamentals. First of all, it seems problematic to even define the general time frame of Polish Futurism. In the early stages of the movement’s development in Poland (1908–​1918)10 the dominant role was played by press articles penned by writers other than the later Futurist poets. These 5 In Poland, this question is examined in one monograph in the area of literary theory by Lucylla Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, Wrocław 1977. Problems of phonic configurations also constitute an important point of reference for many other scholars (cf. the remarks contained at the end of this introduction). 6 See Aleksandra Okopień-​Sławińska, “Instrumentacja głoskowa,” in Słownik terminów literackich, ed. J. Sławiński Wrocław 2000, 214–​15. 7 In Polish literary studies the term “phonostylistics” [fonostylistyka] has a long tradi­ tion. Jerzy Paszek, Stylistyka. Przewodnik metodyczny, Katowice 1974, 11–​55, regards phonostylistics as concerning “the sound composition of the text and the sequencing of sounds” (Paszek bases on the findings of Jan Mukařovski). He further specifies that he is interested in “imitative harmony (onomatopoeia and words imitating sounds; onomatopoeia and the choice of words that do not imitate sounds)” as well as “sound instrumentation (the phonetic leitmotif; alliteration; paronomasia; wordplay)” In this study, it is assumed that the totality of phenomena Paszek calls “phonostylistics” can be also referred to using the term “irregular sound instrumentation” or “sound instrumentation” (see Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa). 8 See fn. 49 in Chapter One for definitions of these devices. 9 Detailed analysis of versification patterns would require assuming a different perspective of the avant-​garde heritage. It would be indeed necessary to write a separate book focusing solely on the question of irregular instrumentation. In fact, Futurist versification has been partly described. Pszczołowska analyses some Futurist works in her monograph Wiersz polski. Zarys historyczny. Although these passages constitute only a moderate part of the study, they nevertheless contain findings that could provide an adequate point of departure for a study analysing in detail the verse patterns found in works by Jasieński, Czyżewski, Młodożeniec, Wat and Stern (see Lucylla Pszczołowska, Wiersz polski. Zarys historyczny, Wrocław 1997, 305–​53). 10 Grzegorz Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, Wrocław 1974, 62. See also the remarks on the “Harbingers of Futurism” in Andrzej Lam, Polska awangarda poetycka. Programy lat 1917–​1923, Vol. 1, Kraków 1969, 52–​8. For Author use only Introduction 15 texts would present selected theses formulated abroad. This study, however, primarily discusses actual poems. First attempts to write serious, innovative works of this kind date back only to 191911 when the first Futurist poetry books were published: Tram wpopszek ulicy [Tram across the street] by Jerzy Jankowski,12 Nagi człowiek w śródmieściu [Naked man downtown] by Anatol Stern13 and JA z jednej strony i JA z drugiej strony mego mopsożelaznego piecyka [ME from one side and ME from the other side of my pug iron stove] by Aleksander Wat.14 One needs to bear in mind, however, that the poetry volumes published since 1919 would also contain works written earlier, ones that are sometimes clearly distinguishable in terms of language and meaning from those already avant-​garde in character.15 It thus remains difficult to decide how to address the non-​Futurist poems included in volumes such as Czyżewski’s Zielone oko [Green eye] or Kreski i futureski [Strokes and futuresques] by Młodożeniec. There can be no certainty whether certain texts, even ones written in a more traditional style, were in fact composed before 1919 since only some works are dated, while original prints or manuscripts can be difficult to access. It is thus assumed here that the fact of publishing these works along with clearly avant-​garde ones justifies including them in analyses here because these authors have themselves decided that these lyrics meet their own criteria of innovative poetry. Therefore, the year 1919 is considered here to mark the 11 See Andrzej K. Waśkiewicz, “Czasopisma i publikacje zbiorowe polskich futurystów,” Pamiętnik Literacki 1 (1983), 31–​8; he mentions the leaflet Tak [Yes] from 1918, which he considers to be the movement’s Vorgeschichte (33). 12 According to Zbigniew Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” in Antologia polskiego futuryzmu i Nowej Sztuki, ed. H. Zaworska, Wrocław 1978, Tram was probably published in October 1919 with the date 1920. 13 Already in 1920 Stern decided to withdraw Nagi człowiek from bookshops, arguing that the volume was too closely connected with the poetics of Young Poland. “In 1978, the gesture of withdrawing one’s debut collection of poems we may discern something more than a break away from one’s origins. It is in fact a Futurist poet’s gesture of self-​creation” (Andrzej K. Waśkiewicz, “ ‘Irrealna gwiazda.’ O poezji Anatola Sterna,” Pamiętnik Literacki 4 (1979), 166–​7). Futuryzje, his subsequent poetry book, was published in early 1920, although the cover contains the date 1919 (Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” xxxi; Waśkiewicz states that the second part of the volume (13–​28) was printed in more copies in 1920; see Andrzej K. Waśkiewicz, “ ‘Irrealna gwiazda’,” 165–​6; Andrzej K. Waśkiewicz, “Dodatek krytyczny,” in Anatol Stern, Wiersze zebrane, Vol. 2, Kraków 1986, 269). 14 Similarly to Jankowski’s Tram, Piecyk was published in the autumn of 1919 with the date 1920 (Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” xxxiii). 15 The term “avant-​garde” is used here to refer to various innovative movements from the first decades of the twentieth century. I clearly indicate it whenever I mean the Kraków avant-​garde. For Author use only 16 Introduction beginning of Polish Futurism as the “publishing date,” with subsequent analyses discussing works presented in books and journals since that year.16 It is even more difficult to establish the date when Futurism ended in Poland. Already in 1923 Bruno Jasieński argued in a text significantly titled “Futuryzm polski (bilans)” [Polish Futurism (an assessment)] that “Futurism is a form of collective consciousness that needs to be overcome.”17 The dusk of Futurism was also announced in the same year by Anatol Stern.18 Nevertheless, accepting this date as one marking the end of this movement would be scholarly unjustified. Although it does determine the end of Futurist group activities,19 this did not mean that indi­ vidual writers stopped collaborating or ceased to write poetry that was still Futurist in spirit. Naturally, we should bear in mind that “since 1921, the achievements of the ‘first avant-​garde’ were increasingly often brought under the banner of New Art.”20 This term was borrowed from the titles of two avant-​garde journals: Nowa Sztuka [New Art] (1921/​1922) and Almanach Nowej Sztuki F24 [Almanac of New Art F24] (1924–​1925; the letter F, which denotes Futurism, was removed from the cover after publishing two issues).21 Nowa Sztuka published texts by Stern, Jasieński, Wat, Młodożeniec, Czyżewski, as well as ones by the leader and legislator of the Kraków avant-​garde –​Tadeusz Peiper. This study also takes into account this period, when younger writers became active, assuming after Zbigniew Jarosiński that the poets’ declarations regarding the end of Futurism were “rather premature.”22 Abstracting from texts written in the period when Nowa Sztuka was being published23 would 16 This criterion is all the more obvious since none of these poets published any volume prior to this year. 17 Bruno Jasieński, “Futuryzm polski (bilans),” in Antologia polskiego futuryzmu, 49. 18 In the 1923 text “Zwierzęta w klatce (o polskim futuryzmie),” Stern writes: “Was the Polish reaction … against this movement too exaggerated and inconsiderate? I am at the liberty to pose this question today when Polish Futurism ended. Its history closed after it fulfilled one key role –​that of a splendid lever that pried open the set of old aesthetic values” (qtd. after Anatol Stern, Głód jednoznaczności i inne szkice, Warszawa 1972, 65). 19 See Waśkiewicz, “ ‘Irrealna gwiazda’,” 166; Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 71–​2. 20 Paweł Majerski, Anarchia i formuły. Problemy twórczości poetyckiej Anatola Sterna, Katowice 2001, 12. 21 Grzegorz Gazda, Słownik europejskich kierunków i grup literackich XX wieku, Warszawa 2000, 388. 22 Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” lxxviii. This problem is perceived differently for example by Józef Heistein, who considers Polish Futurism to be limited to the years 1918–​1923 (Józef Heistein, Le futurisme et les avant-​gardes en littérature. L’apport de la Pologne, Warszawa 1979, 12; see also Adam Ważyk, Dziwna historia awangardy, Warszawa 1976, 69). 23 Naturally, we should clearly distinguish between the early appearance of the Futurists and their activity in the journal Nowa Sztuka, which Jarosiński describes as follows: “Although the first issue was published almost at the same time as Nuż w bżuhu, it contains no traces of the Futurist programme or scandal. In the editorial For Author use only Introduction 17 be artificial and unjustified, all the more so since after 1923 “certain works that are important for the Polish avant-​garde (or base on Futurist experiences) continued to be published.”24 These include: Ziemia na lewo [Earth to the left] by Jasieński and Stern (1924), Anielski cham [Angelic brute] by Stern (1924), Kwadraty [Squares] with the famous “Radioromans” by Młodożeniec (1925), Pastorałki [Dramatized Christmas carols] by Czyżewski (1925), and Słowo o Jakubie Szeli [The story of Jakub Szela] by Jasieński (1926).25 Zaworska and Jarosiński consider the year 1926 to mark the end of Polish Futurist poetry and Nowa Sztuka.26 The same date was also recognized by Henryk Markiewicz as indicating the conclusion of the first stage in the interwar period (until the May Coup): the phase of “initial, independence-​ driven optimism and gradual disillusionment accompanied by ideological radicalization in certain areas of literature.”27 This is an additional argument in favour of accepting this time frame for the purposes of this study (regaining independence 24 25 26 27 introduction Stern declares that “Nowa Sztuka only wishes to act as a field where new art would be synthesized.” He would distance himself equally from the metaphysical tendencies of the expressionists and the Skamander poets’ appreciation of the everyday by speaking of an art that would reject imitating reality and the fetters of the intellect as well as refuse to shrink from any extravagance. At the same time, Stern would argue that it would be too radical to endorse extreme solutions offered by Italian Futurism, Dadaism and Polish Formism” (Zbigniew Jarosiński, “Futuryzm,” in Słownik literatury polskiej XX wieku, eds. Alina Brodzka et al., Wrocław 1992, 316–​17). Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 12. Edward Balcerzan also considers volumes such as Pastorałki or Słowo o Jakubie Szeli as Futurist texts (Edward Balcerzan, “Futuryzm,” in Literatura polska w okresie międzywojennym, Vol. 1, eds. Jerzy Kądziela, Jerzy Kwiatkowski, and Irena Wyczańska, Kraków 1979, 134). These are the boundaries assumed in Antologia polskiego futuryzmu. Waśkiewicz, in turn, proposed the years 1919–​1925 as the time frame of Futurism, beginning with the “zero” issue of Formiści (Formiści. Wystawa III. Katalog) and ending with the last issue of Almanach Nowej Sztuki [Waśkiewicz, Czasopisma, 33]. Gazda indicates the possibility of an even more radical time frame for this movement, proposing to include in its canon “not only Futuryzje by A. Stern, But w butonierce and Pieśń o głodzie by B. Jasieński, and Kreski i futureski by S. Młodożeniec … but also Europa (1929) by A. Stern, Słowo o Jakubie Szeli (1926) by B. Jasieński, Bezrobotny Lucyfer (1927) by A. Wat, and Futuro-​gamy i futuro-​pejzaże (1934) by S. Młodożeniec” (Grzegorz Gazda, “Funkcja prymitywu i egzotyki w literaturze międzywojennej,” in Problemy literatury polskiej lat 1890–​1939, eds. H. Kirchner, Z. Żabicki, Wrocław 1972, 379). Interestingly, after announcing the end of the movement, the writers themselves would continue using the audience-​drawing moniker “Futurism” until 1925 in the titles of their poetry evenings; as Jarosiński adds, “even later [after 1925] Młodożeniec and Czyżewski would emphasize their allegiance to Futurism” (Jarosiński, “Futuryzm,” 315). Henryk Markiewicz, “Próba periodyzacji nowożytnej literatury polskiej,” in Przekroje i zbliżenia, Warszawa 1967, 20–​1. For Author use only 18 Introduction considerably impacted the modality of literature written in this period).28 Thus, the years 1919 and 1926 are assumed to define the temporal scope of analysis in this study.29 To begin with, we should outline crucial questions in the area of literary history and theory. In 1959, Janusz Sławiński aptly notes: Particular achievements of the Futurists could never be included in any system. Even if some of them permeated the literary tradition (which they certainly did!), they would immediately lose their history and genealogy. No one would remember where they came from because they were not elements of some poetics –​it is only on this background –​regardless of the movement’s fate –​that they could retain their Futurist character.30 Polish Futurism was the sum of various talents; therefore, seeking any common denominators (especially in terms of poetics) within this heterogeneous formation may be risky. Vastly different creative methods were adopted by Jasieński, who was fascinated with Russian poetry, the Formist Czyżewski, or the avant-​garde erudite Wat. Lyrical works by individual authors are discussed in monographs31 but any broader, analytical discussion of the movement’s output as a whole is a daunting task that was nevertheless undertaken by scholars focusing on the Polish interwar period, including Edward Balcerzan, Grzegorz Gazda, Andrzej Lam, Zbigniew Jarosiński, and Helena Zaworska.32 Still, questions of poetics constitute 28 This study employs the concept of modality developed by Włodzimierz Bolecki in “Modalność (Literaturoznawstwo i kognitywizm. Rekonesans),” in Sporne i bezsporne problemy wiedzy o literaturze, eds. W. Bolecki, R. Nycz, Warszawa 2002, 434–​5. 29 Both Antologia polskiego futuryzmu and this study take into account poems from the first part of the volume titled Futuro-​gamy i futuro-​pejzaże, published in 1933 (though it carries the date 1934) –​the part that contains previously unpublished poems from the years 1918–​1922. They are quoted after Antologia and the volume: Stanisław Młodożeniec, Utwory poetyckie, Warszawa 1973. However, differences between these editions and originally published versions are discussed in footnotes. As the editors of Antologia note, the author’s emendations in Futuro-​gamy “aimed … in fact to correct the artistic form of the poems [although it remains unclear when the changes were made –​B. Ś]. Furthermore, Młodożeniec still felt that he was a Futurist” (Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” cxxii; see also Tomasz Burek’s notes in Młodożeniec, Utwory poetyckie, 504). 30 Sławiński, “Poezje Młodożeńca,” 106; emphasis added. 31 See for example: Stanisław Burkot, Stanisław Młodożeniec. Rzecz o chłopskim futuryście, Warszawa 1985; Majerski, Anarchia i formuły; Grażyna Pietruszewska-​ Kobiela, O poezji Anatola Sterna, Częstochowa 1992; Joanna Pollakówna, Tytus Czyżewski, Warszawa 1971 (this study also discusses his plastic works); Tomasz Venclova, Aleksander Wat. Obrazoburca, trans. Jan Goślicki, Kraków 1997. 32 See for example: Balcerzan, “Futuryzm;” Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce; Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” iii-​cxxv; Lam, Polska awangarda poetycka; Helena Zaworska, O nową sztukę. Polskie programy artystyczne lat 1917–​1922, Warszawa 1963; Helena Zaworska, “Nurt ‘Nowej Sztuki’,” in Literatura polska 1918–​1975, Vol. 1, eds. Alina Brodzka, Helena For Author use only Introduction 19 only one aspect of their multi-​faceted studies.33 The reason for this is simple, in the case of Polish Futurism it would be difficult to offer a synthetic account like Sławiński’s Koncepcja języka poetyckiego awangardy krakowskiej because –​unlike Peiper’s circle –​Polish Futurism was highly heterogeneous and inconsistent, both in terms of declarations and artistic realizations. Still, there is one area in which all writers discussed here proved to be highly talented and active, namely the development of the poem’s phonic tissue.34 All Futurists would foreground instrumentation devices, making them one of the foremost aesthetic aspects of their works. Certainly, even in this area we can indicate differences in attitude between particular authors. Although they all utilized similar instrumentation devices, they would be differently deployed in terms of frequency and function.35 Nevertheless, there are enough phonostylistic points of contact in the Futurist output to attempt a comprehensive analysis of sound instrumentation in their poems. The question arises, however, whether they can be regarded collectively as Futurist poetics of sound. Analyses conducted in this study are meant to help to provide an answer. This book analyses poems by Wat, Stern, Jasieński, Czyżewski and Młodożeniec,36 but does not account for works by two other authors associated with Polish Futurism: Jerzy Jankowski and Adam Ważyk. Their output is not analysed in detail here and is only mentioned in passing, because from the perspective of literary history, they only partly overlap with Futurism, decidedly differing from Wat, Stern and Młodożeniec (whose works are not monolithic in their own right). The 33 34 35 36 Zaworska, and Stefan Żółkiewski, Warszawa 1975, 367–​81; Helena Zaworska, “Przemiany polskiego futuryzmu,” in Literatura polska 1918–​1975, Vol. 1, 349–​67. One example of this is the third part of the book by Grzegorz Gazda Futuryzm w Polsce, titled “Elementy poetyki immanentnej polskiego futuryzmu.” Discovering the texts’ instrumentation constituted one of the basic aspects of the reception of Futurist works even for those readers who would become acquainted with it only in print. “Sound qualities, even if not actualized vocally, are inherent in the consciousness of the recipient –​the ‘silent’ reader” (Aleksandra Okopień-​ Sławińska, “Pomysły do teorii wiersza współczesnego (Na przykładzie poezji Przybosia),” in Styl i kompozycja, ed. J. Trzynadlowski, Wrocław 1965, 179; see also Zaworska, Przemiany polskiego futuryzmu, 365; Venclova, Aleksander Wat, 53). It is not the overall goal of this study to demonstrate differences between the sound form of poems by Jasieński, Wat, Stern, Młodożeniec and Czyżewski, but rather to indicate elements of poetics they share, although divergences shall be also indicated in many places. Incidentally, these authors would be regarded as “our true Futurists” by Witkacy. See Stanisław I. Witkiewicz, “O skutkach działalności naszych futurystów,” in Bez kompromisu. Pisma krytyczne i publicystyczne, Warszawa 1976, 121–​2. See also the article on the “splinters” of Futurism in Poland: Andrzej K. Waśkiewicz, “Kazimierz Brzeski i ‘Katarynka Warszawska’ (o peryferiach polskiego futuryzmu),” in W kręgu futuryzmu i awangardy. Studia i szkice, Wrocław 2003, 89–​107. For Author use only 20 Introduction hybrid poetics of Jankowski bridges the avant-​garde and Young Poland, and is often passéist.37 The subject matter of his poems is indeed Futurist in places (civi­ lization, city, inventions), yet his means of expression are in most cases representative of the style characteristic for the turn of the centuries.38 On the other hand, poems by Ważyk, the youngest author from the circle of Futurism and New Art, exemplify his position at the crossroads between various influences and poetics. Independent and impossible to classify, his work cannot be reduced to any label, even a wide-​ranging one.39 Works by these two artists –​active at the two temporal and formal extremes of the Futurist movement –​do not foreground the phonic dimension to the extent that is observable in poems by Futurists “proper,” actually offering little in the way of experimenting with sound. It may seem that this method involves marginalizing inconvenient texts that do not fit an a priori thesis. However, taking into account the specificity of works by these two poets it may be deemed that excluding their poems from analysis merely confirms known facts from literary history, namely that these flanking Futurists in fact worked outside the movement: either before or after it. Another issue that is important for research presented here is the international situation of Polish Futurism. Poetic and programmatic texts by authors discussed here are characterized by diversity, freedom and arbitrariness, which reflects the lack of a homogenous artistic concept. The situation in Poland, specifically the 37 Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” xviii. According to Jasieński, “[a]‌lready before the war, in 1914, the tragic herald and John the Baptist of Polish Futurism –​Jerzy Jankowski, author of Tram wpopszek ulicy –​would scare the Polish public with poems dispersed in magazines. He was the first Polish Futurist in the Italian sense. His poems went unnoticed and the book was released too late. His sickness [Jankowski became mentally ill in 1921 and struggled to recover for the rest of his life] stopped him from being a champion before he could become one” (Jasieński, “Futuryzm polski (bilans),” 56). See also the remarks made by Paweł Majerski regarding Jankowski’s Vilnius activities: Paweł Majerski, “Jerzy Jankowski i symbolistyczna autodestrukcja. O zapomnianym epizodzie wileńskiej poezji,” in Odmiany awangardy, Katowice 2001, 13–​28. 38 The most innovative poems –​also in the perspective of phonostylistics –​seem to include: “Spłon lotnika (Rapsod)” and “Maggi (Rapsod).” See for example: Jerzy Jankowski, Rytmy miasta, Warszawa 1972, 9–​14. See also Waśkiewicz’s remarks in this volume (29). Marta Baron-​Milian’s article “YY. Kryptonimy Jerzego Jankowskiego,” Przestrzenie Teorii 34/​2020, 35–​74, sheds new light on Jankowski’s output. 39 See for example: Agnieszka Kluba, “Poezja mitu kratylejskiego Adama Ważyka,” in Autoteliczność –​referencyjność –​niewyrażalność. O nowoczesnej poezji polskiej (1918–​1939), Wrocław 2004, 138; Zaworska, Przemiany polskiego futuryzmu, 374–​380; Jacek Trznadel, “Wstęp,” in Adam Ważyk, Wybór poezji, Warszawa 1967, 5–​6. For Author use only Introduction 21 “independence-​driven optimism,”40 favoured those activities of young poets that were carnivalesque in spirit. “The radical anti-​traditionalism, whose rebellious slogans were repeated [by Polish Futurists] after Italians and Russians, acquired an additional meaning in the Polish context. Namely, it would entail breaking away from those patterns of literature that emerged during the period of national bondage.”41 Moreover, we should keep in mind that there was a certain temporal distance between the Polish movement and foreign avant-​garde trends, along with their diverse inspirations and approximations. Poland found itself amidst strong influences coming from the West and the East, which certainly does not mean that the Polish reception of efforts made by Khlebnikov, Tzara or Marinetti was thoroughgoing. Still, writers in Poland would be aware of transformations occurring in literature and art abroad, as is confirmed by Anatol Stern’s poem “Reflektory” [Headlights], in which something quite typical of the avant-​garde is manifested: the consciousness of a new tradition, “an international of new art:”42 było to wilno zima 1920 gdy w zielonej od skwaru równinie też rankiem znad szarych skrzydeł się wychyliwszy ekranu marinetti błyszczącą śmigę aeroplane pieścił rękami jak nagą śmiejącą się z rozkoszy szybko kręcącą biodrami kochankę chodź chodź do mnie przyjacielu i ty cocteau i ty majakowskij boccioni tzara i wy i oni wszyscy … 40 This term was developed by Henryk Markiewicz (“Próba periodyzacji nowożytnej literatury polskiej”). See also Bogdana Carpenter, The Poetic Avant-​Garde in Poland 1918–​1939, Seattle 1983, xiii-​xv. 41 Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” lxxxiv. 42 Andrzej K. Waśkiewicz, “Wstęp,” in Anatol Stern, Wiersze zebrane, Vol. 1, Kraków 1986, 5; see also Aleksander Wat, “Wspomnienia o polskim futuryzmie,” Miesięcznik Literacki 2 (1930), 68–​77; Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 47; Carpenter, Poetic Avant-​ Garde in Poland, xv; Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” iv-​v. As Ważyk notes, “the Futurists would consider themselves a branch of an international movement in poetry. Poems by Italian Futurists would be read in Polish in 1914 in Rzymowski’s translation (usually toned down), alongside Khlebnikov, passages from Mayakovsky’s ‘A Cloud in Trousers’ as well as the ‘imagist’ Yesenin and even the ‘Acmeist’ Gumilyov. Furthermore, they would read Apollinaire” (Adam Ważyk, Kwestia gustu, Warszawa 1966, 66). For Author use only 22 Introduction przez atlantyk podają sobie ręce nasze zgłoski! galopują szybciej od australijskich koni! … rozpłaszczony trup chlebnikowa długi o zapadłej piersi trup i tylko w gąszczy wśród kraśnych ptaków pyszna sama dzwoni wciąż żywa głowa! guillaumie pantero z pyskiem rannym z obandażowaną lazurami głową … o guillaumie apollinaire z jakich nadmorskich jeszcze sfer dajesz mi płomień ust ramię brata z jakiego morza z jakiego nieba z jakiego świata? [it was in vilnius winter 1920 when in the scorching green plain also in the morning leaning over the screen of grey wings marinetti caressed the glistening propeller with his hands as if it were a naked lover laughing with joy and swinging her hips fast come come to me my friend you too cocteau and you mayakovsky boccioni tzara and you and them all … our sounds extend hands over the atlantic! galloping faster than australian horses … the spread-​eagled body of khlebnikov long corpse with sinking breasts and only in the thicket among garish birds his haughty head rings still alive! guillaume panther with wounded face and head bandaged with azures … o guillaume apollinaire from what spheres that are still seaside are you giving me the flame of lips the brotherly arm from what seas from what sky from what world?] (Ant. 217–​220; emphasis in the original) For Author use only Introduction 23 The poem reveals numerous avant-​ garde contexts43 and seems to justify the thesis that the overall shape of Polish Futurism is a perfect example of assimilating influences and adopting various innovative trends. However, according to the Polish Futurist (misspelt) manifesto Mańifest w sprawie poezji futurystycznej, “Artysta, ktury nie twoży żeczy nowyh i ńebywałych, a pszeżuwa jedyńe to, co było pszed nim zrobione, po paręset razy –​ńe jest artystą i powińen za używańe tego tytułu odpowiadać”44 [artists who do not create new and incredible things experience only the things that were done earlier for hundreds of times –​they are not artists and should answer for using this title]. Consequently, it becomes necessary to specify several things from the perspective of literary history. 43 This text can be compared with the equally “cosmopolitan” poem by Jasieński (from 1921), which nevertheless negates the sense of a new literary tradition: “[Zmęczył mnie język…]” [Language has wearied me…]. One passage from it reads: “Znam słowa śmigłe jak uda sarn. /​Znam słowa równe biblijnym psalmom, /​Nad łóżkiem moim śpiewał Verhaeren /​i długie fugi zawodził Balmont. /​… //​Mógłbym na nerwach dojrzałych panien /​Grać jak na strunach cienkich jak włoski. /​Mogę tak pisać jak Siewierianin, /​Mogę tak pisać jak Majakowski. //​Mogę tak pisać jak Apollinaire. /​Mogę tak pisać jak Marinetti. –​/​… O bracia włoscy, rosyjscy, francuscy, /​Tacy ogromni w swoim patosie! /​O ukochani, najdrożsi, bliscy –​/​ Mam już was wszystkich po dziurki w nosie!” [I know words as swift as the thighs of roe deer /​I know words equal to Biblical Psalms, /​Verhaeren sung over my bed /​and Balmont wailed long fugues. /​… //​I could play on the nerves of mature girls /​Like on strings thin as hair. /​I can write like Severyanin, /​I can write like Mayakovsky. //​I can write like Apollinaire. /​I can write like Marinetti. –​/​ … O brothers from Italy, Russia, France, /​You are so grand in your loftiness! /​ O beloved, dear, close ones –​/​I have become so fed up with you!] (Jas., Upms 46–​9. In the original version the spelling is phonetic –​see Jednodńuwka futurystuw. Mańifesty futuryzmu polskiego, Kraków 1921, pages unnumbered. See remarks about this text in Janina Dziarnowska, Słowo o Brunonie Jasieńskim, Warszawa 1978, 67; Sergiusz Sterna-​Wachowiak, Miąższ zakazanych owoców. Jankowski –​Jasieński –​Grędziński (szkice o futuryzmie), Bydgoszcz 1985), 85–​6. 44 Bruno Jasieński (Jaśeński), “Mańifest w sprawie poezji futurystycznej,” in Jednodńuwka futurystuw (Ant. 18). For Author use only 24 Introduction Illustration 1. The first and the fourth (last) page of Jednodńuwka futurystuw [misspelt: One-​off issue of the Futurists] published in Cracow in June 1921. Both content, spelling and format (320 x 940 mm) were shocking for the public. For Author use only Introduction Illustration 2. Double spread of Jednodńuwka futurystuw For Author use only 25 26 Introduction Contrary to the belief that “the journey of Marinetti’s ideas from Italy to Poland was truly lightning-​quick,”45 on the ground of artistic achievement we do not deal with an immediate artistic import, which means that the journey of ideas did not occur in the simplest possible way.46 News of the novel trend in literature and art (the early stage of Polish Futurism in the years 1909–​1918)47 were in no way exhaustive.48 Polish critics would promote the model of an utilitarian avant-​garde, presenting Italian Futurism as an optimistic, vitalistic, and activist movement that perfectly matched the situation of Poland after the First World War.49 However, the accuracy of information left a lot to be desired.50 Moreover, articles commenting 45 Sterna-​Wachowiak, Miąższ zakazanych owoców, 7. 46 This question is discussed in detail in the monograph by Przemysław Strożek, Marinetti i futuryzm w Polsce 1909–​1939. Obecność –​kontakty –​wydarzenia, Warszawa 2012. See also Monika Gurgul, “Echa włoskiego futuryzmu w prasie polskiej w latach 1909–​1939,” in Echa włoskie w prasie polskiej (1860–​1939). Szkice biograficzne, Kraków 2006, 99–​158. 47 See Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 62. 48 See Strożek, Marinetti i futuryzm w Polsce, 23–​82. 49 See Strożek, Marinetti i futuryzm w Polsce, 62–​3; Jarosiński, “Futuryzm,” 313; Lam, Polska awangarda poetycka, 66–​72; Jan Prokop, Z przemian w literaturze polskiej lat 1907–​1917, Wrocław 1970, 38–​52. The first detailed description of information articles (among others by I. Grabowski, W. Feldman, C. Jellenty, W. Bun, M. Dienstl, A. Limprechtówna, M. Sławińska, A. Kołtoński) appears in the text by Jolanta Żurawska-​Citarelli “Pierwsze reakcje na futuryzm włoski w Polsce,” Przegląd Humanistyczny 9 (1977), 197–​208. An extended analysis can be found in works published in recent years by Stożek (Marinetti i futuryzm w Polsce) and Gurgul (“Echa włoskiego futuryzmu”). See also Prokop, Z przemian w literaturze polskiej, 38–​52; Sterna-​Wachowiak, Miąższ zakazanych owoców, 7–​8. 50 Although Żurawska-​Citarelli, “Pierwsze reakcje na futuryzm włoski w Polsce,” 208, assures that “still before the First World War the Polish public opinion had a quite clear idea regarding the things that could be admired about Futurism and what seemed problematic about it,” the way in which information about the Italian movement was passed nevertheless raises concerns. We should consider one of the most important Polish articles about Futurism, which was published already in October 1909 (Świat 40 and 41): Ignacy Grabowski’s “Najnowsze prądy w literaturze europejskiej.” He quotes, almost in its entirety, the Manifesto di Fondazione published on 11 February 1909. Passages from it, however, are commented in a way that does not match the movement’s assumptions: “They are led by Marinetti. … He issued ‘manifestos’ à la Napoleon –​until the age of forty. … We no longer call ourselves supermen, Uebermensch, because this sounds heavy, silly, and German; we shall call ourselves the people of the future: Futurists. Our Hellenic and Roman spirit cannot stand the slavish unter and ober … We Futurists emerge from the barracks into the sun like heliotropes, sunflowers that always turn to the centre of power, the centre of life. Let the eternal, creative Roman spirit live forever!” Grabowski illustrates the achievements of Italian Futurism with an Art Nouveau etching showing a young man wielding a sword, signed “From the art of the Futurists. Idiot (Poet),” and a poem by For Author use only Introduction 27 on the achievements of the Italians scarcely discussed poetic texts. Critics would focus on discussing the movement’s ideas or reviewing exhibitions of works by Italian artists. Finally, before the First World War most of the would-​be Polish Futurists were still in school.51 In effect, except for Czyżewski (who was one gen­ eration older52) they would know Italian Futurism only through “several slogans and a promising name.”53 the Futurist (?) J. d’Adelswärd Fersen: “Twe oczy –​cudne, /​gdy mnie oszukujesz, /​ Twe usta –​cudne, gdy kłamią, /​Gdy kłamiesz, głosem jak harfa czarujesz. /​Próżno znam cię? Fryne, Lamio! /​Twa piękność wualem kryje /​Mą żmiję… ranę zazdrości” [Your eyes –​gorgeous, /​when you deceive me, /​Your lips –​gorgeous when lying, /​When you lie, your voice is beguiling like a harp. /​Is it in vain that I know you? Phryne, Lamia! /​Your beauty hides behind a veil /​My viper… a wound of envy.]. All quotations after Ignacy Grabowski, “Najnowsze prądy w literaturze europejskiej. Futuryzm,” Świat 40 (2 October 1909), 5–​7. The second part of the article, which carries the same title (Grabowski writes in it, among other things, about Marinetti’s comedy Le Roi Bombance, widely commenting on French culinary habits), was published in Świat 41 (9 October 1909), 2–​5. See also Żurawska-​Citarelli, “Pierwsze reakcje na futuryzm włoski w Polsce,” 197–​9; Lam, Polska awangarda poetycka, 66–​ 72; Prokop, Z przemian w literaturze polskiej, 44–​6; Strożek, Marinetti i futuryzm w Polsce, 23–​8; Gurgul, “Echa włoskiego futuryzmu,” 99–​100. 51 Facts speak for themselves. Marinetti published his manifesto in 1909, while those by Polish Futurists were written in the years 1917–​1921. Poles were nevertheless aware, at least to some degree, of this delay in literary fashion. As Jasieński notes: “In 1921 we have no intention to repeat what they [Italian Futurists] did already in 1908 … In 1921 no one should create and work in a way that people did before. Life pushes forward and does not repeat itself” (“Mańifest w sprawie poezji futurystycznej,” Ant. 18). Czyżewski maliciously commented, also in 1921, on the efforts of Wat and Stern: “they’ve gone batty, repeating whatever the Italians did ten years ago” (Tytus Czyżewski, “Od maszyny do zwierząt. –​Kto się gniewa na nas,” Formiści 4 [1921], 16). The pace of changes in literature was also described in 1933 by Jerzy Stempowski (basing on the history of Italian Futurism, Dadaism, and surrealism) as follows: “The boldness of invention, fame for one day, inflation of new qualities, and finally thorough depreciation and forgetfulness, all of it mixed with a thousand anecdotes and stories –​this is the pattern followed by each of those short-​lived movements. Three years or the lifespan of ‘isms’ ” (Jerzy Stempowski, “Chimera jako zwierzę pociągowe,” in Chimera jako zwierzę pociągowe, Warszawa 1988, 148). 52 Czyżewski encountered Italian Futurism during his stay in France. See Strożek, Marinetti i futuryzm w Polsce, 103–​5. 53 Stefan Gacki’s opinion regarding Stern’s knowledge of Italian Futurism (Stefan Gacki, “List do Anatola Sterna,” Almanach Nowej Sztuki, Vol. 1, Warszawa 1924, 25; qtd. after Kazimierz Wyka, “ ‘Z lawy metaphor’,” in Rzecz wyobraźni, Warszawa 1977, 242). See also Aleksander Wat, “Wspomnienia o polskim futuryzmie,” 70–​1; Venclova, Aleksander Wat, 52. Awareness of Italian and Russian Futurism among Polish poets is discussed by Strożek, Marinetti i futuryzm w Polsce, 101–​116. For Author use only 28 Introduction Undoubtedly, poets discussed in this study could have known Russian works much better. A crucial role was played in this respect by their life histories. For example, in the years 1914–​1918 Bruno Jasieński attended a middle school in Moscow, where he later took his maturity exam. To recall, it was the city of two revolutions: one artistic and the other proletarian. … Scandalizing events organized by Futurists. Rebellion against all values … “Voskresheniye slova” [Resurrection of the word] by Victor Shklovsky (1914) and “Oblako v shtanakh” [Cloud in trousers] by Vladimir Mayakovsky (1916). … At that time, modernity was doubtless defined by zaum poetry, featuring texts composed from entirely new words created by poets from various roots … … And modernity would also transpire (can we blame the seventeen-​year-​old Bruno?) in the form of Severyanin’s wordplay involving beautiful, rare, often foreign words, especially of French origin.54 The same middle school in Moscow was attended by another Polish pupil: Stanisław Młodożeniec.55 Six years older than Jasieński, he “quickly discovered Yesenin, along with Khlebnikov, Kamensky and Kruchyonykh.”56 Aleksander Wat was also intimately familiar with Russian poetry, especially symbolist (incidentally, he attended a Russian school in Warsaw).57 Tytus Czyżewski, on the other hand, prob­ ably did not know Russian at all.58 Finally, we should address the Dadaist strand in Polish Futurism. It was probably more important for the young Polish poets to hear about the European Dada movement rather than to actually read works by Tzara, Ball or Schwitters, which were written almost in parallel to poems by Polish authors. The latter knew about Futurism spreading in Italy and were acquainted with Marinetti’s basic artistic assumptions already in the early stages of the movement, which means that these ideas circulated among very young poets (with the exception of the older Czyżewski) almost from the very beginning of their literary careers. The Dadaist movement, on the other hand, was younger. It developed almost at the same time as Polish Futurism. At that time there were still no biographical, personal ties between Czyżewski, Wat, Jasieński, Młodożeniec, Stern and the founders of 54 Edward Balcerzan, “Wstęp,” in Jas., Upms v-​vii. See also Jolanta Pollakówna, “Malarze i podpalacze,” in Sztuka XX wieku. Materiały Sesji Stowarzyszenia Historyków Sztuki, Warszawa 1971, 191–​3; Zaworska, Przemiany polskiego futuryzmu, 360. For a fictional account of the poet’s early fascinations see Dziarnowska, Słowo o Brunonie Jasieńskim, 14–​17. 55 Although Młodożeniec passed his maturity exam in Sandomierz in 1914, he found himself in Russia during the war because “in order to avoid serving in the Tsarist army he enrolled again in secondary school” (Burkot, Stanisław Młodożeniec, 23). 56 Dziarnowska, Słowo o Brunonie Jasieńskim, 18–​19; see also Zaworska, Przemiany polskiego futuryzmu, 355. 57 See Venclova, Aleksander Wat, 33 and 98. 58 J. J. Lipski, “Tytus Czyżewski,” in Literatura polska w okresie międzywojennym, Vol. 3, eds. Irena Maciejewska, Jacek Trznadel, and Maria Pokrasenowa, Kraków 1993, 13. For Author use only Introduction 29 Dada. There is “no specific information about reading the Dadaists.”59 Therefore, it was primarily the specific atmosphere of this movement that could impact Polish Futurism.60 As it transpires, knowledge about the activities of foreign poets-​innovators was relatively scarce in Poland. Creating an avant-​garde movement solely on the basis of hearsay and second-​hand ideas seems rather arduous. The process was interestingly described ex post by the poets themselves: When we started Futurism in Poland, we in fact knew no Futurist works. All it took was to make a single discovery contained in a three-​word-​long sentence: “words in freedom.” You need to see that this slogan, which claims that words can be freed, that they are like things with which you can do everything you want, was a tremendous revolution in literature. It was like, say, the revolution started by Nietzsche when he said that God was dead. … This has provided us with an incredible impulse. If it had not been for Marinetti, there would be no Joyce, not to mention Khlebnikov or Mayakovsky. Or alternatively, Joyce, Khlebnikov and Mayakovsky would have to create Marinettism. This is how it had to begin: from the claim that words are free. This is where the importance of Futurism is located, its weight and discovery, which played such a decisive role. In this sense, I would argue that the term Futurism is applicable in the context of this group, which had very moderate results (today people exaggerate these achievements in Poland) and played a marginal role at best.61 It is interesting to consider in this context the opinions of the Futurists on the genealogical conditions of their movement. Aleksander Wat notes: In the years 1919–​1924, Polish Futurism was a decade behind, even in relation to Russia, finding readymade foreign patterns, especially in Mayakovsky’s poetry of revolutionary gigantism and the Dadaist metaphysical anarchism.62 59 Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 92. 60 See Majerski, Anarchia i formuły; Helena Zaworska, “Futurystyczne koncepcje sztuki dla mas,” Pamiętnik Literacki 3 (1967), 80–​2. See also Impuls dadaistyczny w polskiej sztuce i literaturze dwudziestowiecznej, eds. Paulina Kurc-Maj and Paweł Polit, Łódź 2017. 61 Aleksander Wat, Mój wiek. Pamiętnik mówiony, Warszawa 1990, 27; emphasis added. See also Aleksander Wat, “Wspomnienia o polskim futuryzmie,” 68. Wat’s words can be compared with the statement made by Marjorie Perloff: “Naively apocalyptic as it is, Marinetti’s program stands behind or anticipates virtually every ism of the early war years, from Russian Cubo-​Futurism and zaum to Anglo-​American Vorticism to Dada.” In: Marjorie Perloff, The Futurist Moment. Avant-​Garde, Avant Guerre, and the Language of Rupture, Chicago 1986, 56–​7. See also Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 36; Jalu Kurek, “Romantyk futuryzmu,” in Chora fontanna (wiersze futurystów włoskich), trans. Jalu Kurek, Kraków 1977, 5. 62 Wat, “Coś niecoś o ‘Piecyku’,” in Ant. 272–​3. For Author use only 30 Introduction Certainly, the greatest influences were, on the one hand, Russian Futurism, i.e. Mayakovsky and especially Khlebnikov, and on the other –​Dadaism. Thus, it would all boil down to Dadaism.63 According to Wat, Polish Futurism was therefore only a reflection or a mere shadow of foreign achievements. Although the fact of expressing this view long after the closing of the Futurist chapter in Polish literary history suggests, especially in the case of Wat, a significant shift in perception.64 Stern perceived this matter entirely differently. In his view, one can speak of simultaneous, intellectually independent co-​occurrence of similar intellectual trends in different countries, since “certain innovating ideas emerge independently, as was often the case with the broadly understood Polish avant-​garde (encompassing both Futurism and New Art poetry).”65 In this sense, Polish Futurism would be as original and important as the movements in Italy or Russia. Scholars specializing in the interwar period arrived at the following conclusions: Beginning to work ten years after Marinetti and the great success achieved by the Cubists, as well as several years after Dadaism and Apollinaire’s “Zone,” Polish Futurists would draw on these experiences. They did not have to start from scratch and were aware of being part of the international front of New Art.66 What was Polish Futurism? It certainly was not a continuation of the movement that is assumed to have begun in 1909 with a manifesto published in Le Figaro and signed by Marinetti. Those efforts on the part of Italian artists were already a thing of the past. These events were separated from Polish developments by years of war, the regaining of independence, the October Revolution, the birth of Russian Futurism, and very importantly –​the tempestuous Dadaist revolution. … When the young rebels from Warsaw and Kraków were entering the arena of artistic struggle, they had many things to choose from. Still, their choices were often inconsistent.67 Nevertheless, we should remember that choices were in fact limited and drawing on sources that were still unassimilated in Poland was difficult. Futurists would create their own original version of the avant-​garde by utilizing relatively superficial inspirations from abroad. One can only try to guess which current in the European 63 Wat, Mój wiek, 25. 64 See Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Od ‘postmodernizmu’ do ‘modernizmu’ (Wat –​inne doświadczenie),” Teksty Drugie 2 (2001), 29–​39; Czesław Miłosz, “O wierszach Aleksandra Wata,” in Prywatne obowiązki, Olsztyn 1990, 49. 65 Anatol Stern, “Futuryści polscy i inni,” in Poezja zbuntowana, Warszawa 1964, 8. 66 Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” xv. 67 Joanna Pollakówna, Malarstwo polskie między wojnami 1918–​1939, Warszawa 1982, 14. See also Grzegorz Gazda, “Funkcja prymitywu,” 372; Maria Delaperrière, Polskie awangardy a poezja europejska. Studium wyobraźni poetyckiej, trans. Adam Dziadek, Katowice 2004, 85 ff. For Author use only Introduction 31 avant-​garde had the greatest impact on Polish writers. Was it Marinetti’s idea of words in freedom? The concept (or rather concepts) of zaum? Dadaist disdain for all convention? It is impossible to ascertain, with pharmaceutical precision, the exact proportion of influences, inspirations and approximations.68 It seems unnecessary to discuss clear influences and interrelationships between specific poetic texts. What appears far more compelling is the question of construction. Accordingly, this study attempts to demonstrate which sound-​related aspects of Polish texts are influenced by Dadaism, which appear to dovetail with the practices of the Italian leader of the Futurists, and which can be connected with the work of the Russian poet Velimir Khlebnikov. *** Questions of sound instrumentation have been variously studied since centuries, both scientifically and para-​scientifically, in an attempt to discover the semantics of individual phonemes as well as to unveil the mystery of beautiful and dissonant configurations of sounds.69 Certain sound structures have been ascribed magical functions, while others have been deemed (not without reason) as more expressive and strongly affecting the listeners. However, many theories that establish the meaning of specific speech sounds are utterly unverifiable, at the same time 68 Jarosiński argues: “Polish Futurism would draw on all of these [Italian and Russian Futurism, Dadaism], and against this background it may seem late and derivative. However, this would be a one-​sided assessment. It is not only in Poland that avant-​ garde movements emerged after the end of the Great War. The case was similar in other Eastern European countries (the Czech Republic, Hungary, Latvia, Croatia and Serbia), where their arrival was connected with the political revival of national life, while the strongly felt need for modernity made avant-​garde activities blend influences from various sources. Furthermore, it was only after the First World War that a truly international circulation of innovative publications and ideas was established, boosting active artistic explorations in smaller European literatures by allowing writers to feel like a part of a European federation of a new art that would develop a universal, twentieth-​century style through conscious effort” (Jarosiński, “Futuryzm,” 313; see also Kurek, “Romantyk futuryzmu,” 20). 69 Among Polish studies of sound configurations, we should mention the fol­ lowing: Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 94–​104; Kazimierz Wóycicki, Forma dźwiękowa prozy polskiej i wiersza polskiego, Warszawa 1960, 177–​190; Maria R. Mayenowa, Poetyka teoretyczna. Zagadnienia języka, Wrocław 2000, 413–​4; Joanna Ślósarska, Syntagmatyka poetycka, Warszawa 1995, 151–​3; Adam Dziadek, Rytm i podmiot w liryce Jarosława Iwaszkiewicza i Aleksandra Wata, Katowice 1999, 34–​7, 53–​86, 120–​5; Paszek, Stylistyka, 11–​55. See also Ivan Fónagy, “Why Iconicity?,” in Form Miming Meaning: Iconicity in Languwage and Literature, eds. Max Nänny, and Olga Fischer, Amsterdam 1999, 3–​36; Reuven Tsur, “Expressiveness and Musicality of Speech Sounds,” in Toward a Theory of Cognitive Poetics, Amsterdam 1992, 181–​ 8; Reuven Tsur, What Makes Sound Patterns Expressive: The Poetic Mode of Speech Percepetion, Durham 1992. For Author use only 32 Introduction entirely contradicting the theory formulated by Ferdinand de Saussure.70 This study abstracts from such theories, which are often radically subjective, with the exception of ones that are connected with an avant-​garde approach to poetry. Still, analyses contained here refer in places to scientifically verified claims about the effects of certain speech sounds.71 Considerations of the expressive character of individual sounds are nevertheless secondary to this study. It rather focuses on specific textual cases of developing clusters of sounds72 and functionalizing sound 70 See Ferdinand de Saussure, A Course in General Linguistics, trans. Wade Baskin, London 1964. For a discussion of de Saussure’s theory and various propositions of modifying it from the perspective of the semantics of sound in poetry see Lucylla Pszczołowska, “Metafory dźwiękowe w poezji i ich motywacja,” in Tekst i język. Problemy semantyczne, ed. M. R. Mayenowa, Wrocław 1974, 165–​75. The thesis about the arbitrariness of the relation between the signifier and the signified, which characterizes language as a whole, is certainly indefensible in the face of elements such as onomatopoeias or words whose articulation “involves a link with certain physiological activities [correlated with the word’s meaning]” (Kazimierz Polański, “Naturalne elementy w języku,” in Encyklopedia językoznawstwa ogólnego, ed. K. Polański, Wrocław 1999, 387); see also Lev P. Yakubinsky, “On the Sounds of Poetic Language,” trans. Michael Eskin, in On Language and Poetry. Three Essays, New York 2018, 31–​54; Roman Jakobson, Linda Waugh, The Sound Shape of Language, Brighton 1979, 177–​231. De Saussure, Kurs językoznawstwa ogólnego, 80–​1, notes the problem of the non-​arbitrary character of onomatopoeias and interjections yet clearly marginalized the role of sound imitation in language. For a discussion of the other extreme of de Saussure’s theory see Adam Dziadek, “Anagramy Ferdynanda de Saussure’a –​historia pewnej rewolucji,” in Na marginesach lektury. Szkice teoretyczne, Katowice 2006, 30–​58. 71 We should mention the following studies: Reuven Tsur, What Makes Sound Patterns Expressive; Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa; Michał Bristiger, Związki muzyki ze słowem. Z zagadnień analizy muzycznej, Kraków 1986; Jakobson, Waugh, The Sound Shape of Language, esp. ch. “The Spell of Speech Sounds,” 177–​231; Ivan Fónagy, “Język poetycki –​forma i funkcja,” trans. Janusz Lalewicz, Pamiętnik Literacki 2 (1972), esp. 222–​4; Ivan Fónagy, Die Metaphern in der Phonetik. Ein Beitrag zur Entwicklungsgeschichte des Wissenschaftlichen Denkens, The Hague 1963; Ivan Fónagy, “The Metaphor: A Research Instrument,” in Comprehension of Literary Discourse: Results and Problems of Interdisciplinary Approaches, eds. Dietrich Meutsch, and Reinhold Viehoff, Berlin 1989 (especially 111–​130); Mirosław Bańko, Współczesny polski onomatopeikon. Ikoniczność w języku, Warszawa 2008; Mirosław Bańko, Słownik onomatopei, czyli wyrazów dźwięko-​i ruchonaśladowczych, Warszawa 2009. See also the interesting propositions of terms in David I. Masson, “Sound-​ Repetition Terms,” in Poetics. Poetyka. Poetika, eds. K. Wyka et al., Warszawa 1961, 189–​99. 72 See Maria Dłuska, “Elementy śpiewności w poezji,” in Studia i rozprawy, Vol. 1, Kraków 1970, 611–​30. For Author use only Introduction 33 devices, situating them in the perspective of various interwar experiments and ideas about literary creativity. Scholars have often raised the question of instrumentation in Polish Futurist poetry, but they would limit themselves to analyses of individual poems or terse statements made on the margin of broader discussions of works by specific authors, entire artistic movements, or even other avant-​garde formations. What follows is a presentation of three critical accounts of Futurist handling of sound, which are important from the perspective of topics addressed in this study. These authors did not intend to develop a monographic approach to the question of sound instrumentation in Futurist poetry. However, their insights may help to choose the right method of approaching this body of works. Grzegorz Gazda outlines a broad framework for examining the issues in question. He indicates that there were “two wings of [Polish] Futurist activities in poetic language,”73 originating in two kinds of inspirations: The first one, which culminated in Khlebnikov’s practices and the concept of zaum, can be viewed as the tendency to seek the “internal form” of words, while the second is rooted in Marinetti’s idea of “words in freedom” and the Dadaist suicide of poetry.74 Thus, we may distinguish two groups of texts: 1. Poems close to the experimental word formation and “pseudo-​etymologies”75 of Velimir Khlebnikov (which seems to constitute what Gazda calls “the tendency to seek the ‘internal form’ of words”)76 and reviving the context of var­ ious concepts of zaum. 2. Poems freely associating words, phonemes and morphemes, unrestrained by syntactic rules or any postulates to reveal truth and the depth of language. Still, Gazda’s classification, which distinguishes two large categories of poems, does not exhaust the question of sound instrumentation in Polish Futurist poetry. He focused on experimental writing, taking into account strictly innovative, avant-​ garde practices. His approach disregards a relatively large group of pieces whose sound structure is not shaped in an avant-​garde manner and remains closer to the poetics of Young Poland or patterns drawn from folk literature. In order to display the entirety of sound instrumentation devices in Polish Futurism, Gazda’s typology should be supplemented with more traditional, or even passéist tendencies. 73 Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 87. 74 Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 87. 75 Juxtaposing words of similar sound was, according to Khlebnikov, one of the ways of seeking zaum, the language beyond reason. His concept is elaborated in detail in the first section of Chapter Two. 76 In the context of the search for the “internal form of the word” (recalled by Gazda) one should mention the concept developed by Potebnya, who studied the etymological and stylistic “colouring” of individual lexemes (cf. fn. 33 in Chapter Two). For Author use only 34 Introduction A broader account of the Futurist approach to sound additionally necessitates, on the one hand, a detailed consideration of the presumed Dadaism of some works by Polish poets, and affinity with ideas developed by Marinetti on the other.77 It also becomes paramount to explore the connection with the Russian idea of zaum. Analysis of instrumentation elements in Futurist poetry (on the basis of specific examples) and their functions also constitutes an important component of observations made in this area by Edward Balcerzan.78 He describes, among other things, a series of poetic works identified on the basis of the way in which they introduce and functionalize sound devices. This series comprises two stylistic sequences, which share the point of departure: the poem “Na rzece” [On a river] by Jasieński. Balcerzan discusses not the sound structure of all Polish Futurist poems. However, we should reconstruct his line of argumentation regarding the classification of a certain group of poems which are strongly marked by instrumentation. Balcerzan ascertains a fact that is fundamental to this study. Namely, he demonstrates that the sound dimension cannot be regarded merely as a Futurist phonetic game, or an isolated configuration motivated solely by euphony, because in many cases it strongly correlates with semantics. This would be confirmed by an experiment that Balcerzan conducts as part of his analysis of the poem79 in which “the meanings of individual words seem to be, at first glance, subjected to instrumentation to such an extent that they appear to be insignificant, or at least neutral:”80 na rzece rzec ce na cerze mrze pluski na bluzki wizgi w dalekie lekkie dale że poniosło wiosłobryzgi … [on the river say c on skin dies splashes on blouse whirrs in the faraway flimsy distance so that oar-​splashes were carried away] (Jas., Upms 40) In order to verify “whether the choice of words was motivated solely by instrumentation, or the sound was additionally adjusted by some other (obscure) configuration”81 77 However, it is already problematic to distinguish Kruchyonykh’s zaum from the glos­ solalic and echolalic operations in Dadaism and Italian Futurism (this is discussed in greater detail in the second section in Chapter Three). 78 Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 65–​9. 79 Balcerzan analyses only the first stanza. Replicating his argumentation in subsequent stanzas appears much more challenging (cf. the second section in Chapter Three). 80 Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 65–​6. 81 Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 66. For Author use only Introduction 35 Balcerzan replaces the words in Jasieński’s poem with others that sound almost the same (“na rzece rzeczce na sterze mrze /​pluski na bluzki whisky /​w daleki lepkie żale rzek /​po wiosło niosło wizgi” [on a river tiny river at the helm dies /​splashes of whisky on the blouse /​far away in the sticky sorrows of rivers /​for the oar carried whirrs]). Analysis of meanings formed by structures put in place of the poem’s original wording shows that the semantics of the paraphrase is entirely different.82 As he concludes, the style of individual poetic enunciations is not just the form given to the meaningful content of individual words and sentences. … The status of poetic signs can be achieved by parts of words (e.g. in rhymes), equally to entire words, or by configurations of elements, equally to specific elements in themselves. And also: by every device …, by every way of treating words.83 Texts structured similarly to “Na rzece” are brought by Balcerzan under the term “lyricism of mutilated words.” Indeed, in subsequent literary examples he provides, identification of lexemes and their meanings seems, at least initially, very difficult or even impossible. However, one may hold reservations about some of the critic’s claims: a discussion of his argumentation shall demonstrate how complex questions of avant-​garde instrumentation can become. As an instance of the “lyricism of mutilated words” Balcerzan quotes the poem “Zaum. Glukhonemoy” [Zaum. Deaf-​and-​ dumb] by Aleksei Kruchyonykh: MULOMONG uLVA GLuLOV KUL… AMUL JAGUL VAGGuL ZA la-​ye-​ u GUL Volgala GYR Marcha…84 82 Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 66, offers an “information-​driven translation” of the orig­ inal: “A voice dies down on the surface of the river. One can hear splashing, sloshing, and howling. Splashes from oars are carried off into the distant, weightless space.” His paraphrasing experiment is in turn explained as follows: “Somebody dies on a river boat. A sweatshirt is stained with vodka. Something snatched a howl along with the oar into the imperfect, slippery despair of water.” The poem is analysed in Chapter Three, p. 238–240. 83 Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 66–​7. 84 Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 68. Balcerzan assumes that both poems “represent the same historical literary style, namely the Futurist zaum” (Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 68). This appears to be an overgeneralization (cf. Chapter Two). Here is the Polish rendition: “POZAROZUMOWE. GŁUCHONIEMY. //​MULOMONG /​uGWAL /​GŁuniÓW For Author use only 36 Introduction In this work, lexemes are brutally dissected and the resulting words display naturalistic motivation, without any shade of the ludic character present in “Na rzece.”85 Balcerzan argues that we may decipher the imperfect speech of a deaf-​and-​dumb person by reconstructing the strongly distorted lexemes.86 The mutilation of words, which constitutes the basis of categorization, does not raise doubts in the case of this poem but it remains problematic whether “Na rzece” can be also included in this category. Following Balcerzan’s interpretation of the poem by Jasieński (in fact all words are considered to be fully fledged and grammatically correct in his analysis), we may argue that in this text no lexeme is distorted or impoverished. Perhaps the reason behind comparing these two poems was that, at first glance, “rzec” [say] seems to be a truncated form of “rzece” [(on) river] while “cerze” [(on) skin] is an anagram of this word. Balcerzan’s bold analysis, however, contradicts this finding. The text intrigues with the mass of similarly-​sounding words, paronyms87 HAL… /​GWADAL JAGWAR WAWGwar /​ZA wy-​ji –​/​U Gwar /​Wołgała HYR /​ Marnca” (trans. Edward Balcerzan in Antologia nowoczesnej poezji rosyjskiej 1880–​ 1967, Vol. 1, Wrocław 1971, 381). 85 Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 68–​9. 86 Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 69. 87 Already at the onset of the discussion concerning sound instrumentation we should specify the scope of concepts that are fundamental for this study –​paronomasia, paronym, and polyptoton –​because there is some terminological chaos in European literary studies. Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 37, defines paronomasia very narrowly as “a word-​and-​sound figure in which the change of sound occurs within the root morpheme” (see also Lucylla Pszczołowska, “Instrumentacja dźwiękowa tekstów literackich,” in Z zagadnień języka artystycznego, eds. Józef Bubak, and Aleksander Wilkoń, Warszawa 1977, 85–​6). Examples quoted by Pszczołowska in Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 37 (“pić” –​“bić;” “bredzi” –​“brodzi;” “noga” –​“naga”), are minimal pairs that differ only in terms of one sound. Okopień-​Sławińska argues that operations of this type are merely a special case of one kind of paronomasia: parechesis (Aleksandra Okopień-​Sławińska, “Parechesis,” in Słownik terminów literackich, 372). Paronomasia, on the other hand, is defined by Okopień-​Sławińska as “a kind of combination of similarly sounding words, both ones related through etymology and not, that emphasizes their semantic closeness, distance or opposition” (375). A similar perspective is offered by Głowiński, Okopień-​Sławińska and Sławiński in Zarys teorii literatury, Warszawa 1986, 153–​4. In this light, paronomasia can cover related and synonymous words, including polyptoton (repetition of “the same word in different cases or sequential accumulation of etymologically related lexical forms;” Aleksandra Okopień-​Sławińska, “Poliptoton,” in Słownik terminów literackich, 407). However, the perspective offered in many works by French-​and English-​language authors clearly diverges from the above. Many scholars consider the necessary condition for the emergence of paronomasia to consist in the divergence of the meaning of words used within the figure in question; a shared etymology is sometimes accepted. See Bernard Dupriez, Gradus. Les procédés littéraires (Dictionnaire), 332; Michelle Aquien, Georges Molinié, Dictionnaire de rhétorique et de poétique, 615; Dictionnaire universel For Author use only Introduction 37 that de-​ automatize sense-​ making yet without the alleged mutilation of lexemes.88 des lettres, 644; Harry Shaw, Dictionary of Literary Terms, 277. There is a surprising divergence between the scope of terms “paronomasia” and “paronym.” It would seem that all words within the figure of paronomasia are paronyms. This view is supported by French literary theorists, who argue that paronomasia (paronomase, paronomasie) does not assume closeness of meaning, while paronyms (paronymes) are “words or phrases of different meaning and relatively similar form” (Dictionnaire de linguistique, 362). The relation between paronomasia and paronym is thus obvious (the former being actually defined as “the use of paronyms in order to achieve a certain stylistic effect” in Dictionnaire de linguistique, 249). However, Okopień-​Sławińska proposes a broader understanding of paronomasia, at the same time limiting the scope of the meaning of the term “paronym” in a way that obscures the relation between them. Paronyms are, in her view, “words that sound similar yet are not related in terms of etymology or meaning” (Aleksandra Okopień-​Sławińska, “Paronimy,” in Słownik terminów literackich, 375). In English-​language literary studies (the most popular German dictionaries do not list the term at all) this concept functions differently. Shipley’s Dictionary of World Literary Terms defines the paronym as a word formed from the same root as another lexeme, in particular a foreign borrowing, with only slight change of sound regarding, for example, the coda, e.g. paroxysmos (Greek), paroxysmus (Latin), paroxysm (English) (232). A similar perspective is offered by J. A. Cuddon in A Dictionary of Literary Terms, 485. The Polish counterpart to this term is simply “borrowing.” This study adopts and expands the terminology proposed by Głowiński, Okopień-​Sławińska and Sławiński. A relatively close approach is used by Heinrich Lausberg in Retoryka literacka. Podstawy wiedzy o literaturze, trans. Albert Gorzkowski, Bydgoszcz 2002, 360–​66; similar assumptions can be identified in the case of the Polish dictionary of paronyms; see Małgorzata Kita, Edward Polański, “Wstęp. Dlaczego mylimy wyrazy?,” in Słownik paronimów, czyli wyrazów mylonych, Warszawa 2004, 7–​8. Thus, “paronomasia” functions in this study as a broad term that covers etymological and pseudo-​etymological figures, polyptoton (which is allowed by Lausberg, Retoryka literacka, 363 and 365–​6), and consequently: certain puns, anagrams, etc. We may naturally follow in the footsteps of French or British scholars, but it seems important to assume a single name for operations that foreground all kinds of deeper sound correspondences, be they etymologically motivated or not. The closeness of terms “paronomasia” and “paronym” seems obvious; it is for this reason that the term “paronym” is used here to refer to all words used as part of paronomasia. Differentiating between the two terms seems like an unnecessary complication. If a broader understanding of paronomasia is assumed in the Polish context, let us expand the scope of the term “paronym,” thus obtaining several closely related terms that would be very useful in describing instances of instrumentation. 88 Jasieński’s method is similar to the poetic operations of Khlebnikov (works respecting the laws of language and the semantics of individual morphemes that sound similar, which constitute a laboratory, as it were, where the language of the future is forged). See the first section of Chapter Two. For Author use only 38 Introduction Let us consider Balcerzan’s further conclusions. He claims that “Moskwa” [Moscow] by Młodożeniec goes even further in terms of a naturalistic “mutilation of words” (thus forming the stylistic sequence: “Na rzece” –​“Glukhonemoy” –​“Moskwa”): tu-​m czy-​m ta-​m? tam-​tam TAM –​ TU-​M –​–​ tam-​tam TAM tam-​tam-​tam TAM TU-​M TU-​M czy-​m tam-​tam? tam-​tam? czy-​m tam? TAM-​M? TU-​M? czyli-​m tam? –​jeżeli-​m tam to i tu-​m TUM-​T UM a i tam a i tum –​–​–​ oj-​ja JJAJ tam a i tu-​m –​ to-​m i tam i tum TUM89 According to Balcerzan, in “Moskwa,” words are trimmed to form individual sounds that imitate signals caught by the radio receiver or the plucking of balalaika’s strings, at the same time using a highly spare cipher to speak about the drama of a man who is “here” and “there:” in Moscow and in Poland, thinking of Moscow.90 However, in “Moskwa” words are not trimmed. On the contrary, pronouns and conjunctions are supplemented with the person-​indicating affix -​m borrowed from verb inflection (“tu-​m” =​“tu jestem” [I am here]; “tam-​m” =​“tam jestem” [I am there]; “czy-​m” =​“czy jestem” [am I]; analogically to sentences like “Tum był” [I’ve been here] or “Czym godzien?” [Am I worthy?]).91 Read in this way, clusters of sounds become fully fledged and semantically clear propositions –​Balcerzan 89 Stanisław Młodożeniec, Kreski i futureski, Warszawa 1921. The quoted original printing differentiates between hyphens and dashes, while the entire visual composition slightly differs from the version published in Ant. 181–​182; Młodoż., Up 59. 90 Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 69. A similar interpretation is offered by Dziarnowska in Słowo o Brunonie Jasieńskim, 19–​20; see also Delaperrière, Polskie awangardy, 222–​3. 91 English translation of “Moscow:” “here am I or there? /​there-​there THERE –​/​ HERE –​—​/​there-​there THERE there-​there-​there THERE /​HERE HERE /​am I there-​ there? there-​there? am I there? /​THERE? HERE? /​so I’m there? –​if there than also here /​HERE-​HERE /​and here and there –​—​—​/​oh-​yeah yeah there and here /​so I am both here and there /​HERE.” Qtd. after Beata Śniecikowska, “Poetic Experiments in Polish Futurism: Imitative, Eclectic or Original?,” International Yearbook of Futurism Studies 1/​2, 183. For Author use only Introduction 39 notes –​which certainly does not negate the onomatopoeic character of the poem as a whole.92 These three texts comprise the first stylistic sequence described by the critic. However, the concept of “mutilated words” does not fully explain the quoted poems. As demonstrated above, Młodożeniec did not break up words, and merely violated the habits of readers. Balcerzan’s findings seem doubtful also in the case of “Na rzece” by Jasieński. What remains to be addressed is the naturalism identified by Balcerzan in these poems. He argues that “Moskwa” is closer to the naturalistic mode than “Glukhonemoy” and “Na rzece,” the last one being even further away from naturalism. These claims give rise to controversy, all the more so if one recognizes the clear, elaborate network of meanings constructed on top of the “plucking” balalaika or the sound of radio in the case of the poem by Młodożeniec. Why would “Moskwa” be more naturalistic than the record of a profoundly deaf person speaking in “Glukhonemoy?” Perhaps this is about phonetic homogeneity. According to Balcerzan, regarding the poem as part of the said stylistic sequence reveals that the devices are identical and, at the same time, that the poem “cannot be reduced to the imperative of the sequence,” indicating “entirely novel kinds of operations on signs.”93 However, these devices are not in fact identical. What we encounter are rather three distinct, differently motivated modes of poetic play with language. Thus, although there clearly emerge “novel kinds of operations on signs,” we cannot argue that the devices at the root of Balcerzan’s classification are all identical. The three texts do seem, at first glance, to represent the phenomenon of “mutilated words” yet the matter turns out to be far more complicated. Still, avant-​garde poetry would indeed mutilate words in its own special way. In Balcerzan’s sequence, one example of this is “Glukhonemoy,” while in Polish Futurist poetry –​passages from Stern’s Romans Peru.94 What emerges as crucial in this context is the choice of works, since the very idea of developing a sequence of poems is pertinent. Perhaps we should examine Futurist poems in terms of the degree to which they mutilate words. It nevertheless appears that this is not a sufficient basis for categorization, especially because this kind of approach to language is not the most foregrounded aspect of Polish Futurism and does not appear particularly frequently in these works. Thus, this method may help sequence several poems, but does not help to order such a diverse array of sound devices as can be identified in works by Wat, Młodożeniec and Jasieński. Let us consider the second stylistic sequence discussed by Balcerzan: the one that represents the opposite direction to that of the mutilation of lexemes. He draws attention to the question of the repetition of the same word (repeated word, 92 “Moskwa” is also discussed –​in the context of Dadaist sound-​ and-​ image compositions –​in the second section of Chapter Three. 93 Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 70. 94 See the analysis on p. 261 ff. For Author use only 40 Introduction creative play).95 “Entangled in various contexts,” he writes, “it reveals more and more different meanings, entering a dispute with itself, as it were. It contradicts itself, questioning its identity.”96 Operations of this type are identified by Balcerzan in a passage from “Na rzece” (“na rzece rzec ce na cerze mrze”) or in Khlebnikov’s “Zaklyatiye smekhom” [Incantation by laughter]: O, razsmeytes,’ smekhachi! O, zasmeytes’ smekhachi! Chto smeyutsya smekhami, chto smeyanstvuyut smeyal’no, O, zasmeytes’ usmeyal’no! O razsmeshishch nadsmeyal’nykh –​smekh usmeinykh smekhachey! O izsmeisya razsmeyal’no smekh nadsmeinykh smeyachey! Smeyevo, smeyevo, Usmey, osmey, smeshiki, smeshiki, Smeyunchiki, smeyunchiki. O, razsmeytes,’ smekhachi! O, zasmeytes’ smekhachi!97 Balcerzan holds that in this poem (or rather in the Polish translation by Jan Śpiewak), the main concept does not involve play with meaning but with the stylistic properties of the word “śmiech” [smekh, laughter] and its derivatives. Furthermore, neologisms refer to words from which they were derived. Accordingly, “śmiechalnie” [smeyal’no, laughishly] introduces a sense of disapproval through analogy with words such as “nachalnie” or “bezczelnie” [blatantly, insolently]. “Rozśmieszysko” [razsmeshishcho, 95 Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 73. 96 Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 69. 97 Velimir Khlebnikov, Tvoreniya, eds. M. J. Polakov, V. P. Grigoryev, A. E. Parnis, Moscow 1986, 54. Slight changes in comparison with the quoted version can be found in the following edition: Velimir. V. Khlebnikov, Sobranije sochineniy 1, Vol. 2: Tworeniya 1906–​1916, ed. N. Stepanov, München 1968, 35. Two English translations: “Invocation of laughter //​O, laugh, laughers! /​O, laugh out, laughers! /​You who laugh with laughs, you who laugh it up laughishly /​O, laugh out laugheringly /​O, belaughable laughterhood –​the laughter of laughering laughers! /​O, unlaugh it outlaughingly, belaughering laughists! /​Laughily, laughily, /​Uplaugh, enlaugh, laughlings, laughlings /​Laughlets, laughlets. /​O, laugh, laughers! /​ O, laugh out, laughers!” (qtd. after http://​max.mmlc.north​west​ern.edu/​mden​ner/​ Demo/​texts/​invoc​atio​n_​la​ugh.html, accessed 20 October 2021); “Incantation by Laughter //​Hlaha! Uthlofan, lauflings! /​Hlaha! Uthlofan, lauflings! /​Who lawghen with lafe, who hlaehen lewchly, /​Hlaha! Uthlofan hlouly! /​Hlaha! Hloufish lauflings lafe uf beloght lauchalorum! /​Hlaha! Loufenish lauflings lafe, hlohan utlaufly! /​ Lawfen, lawfen, /​Hloh, hlouh, hlou! Luifekin, luifekin, /​Hlofeningum, hlofningum. /​Hlaha! Uthlofan, lauflings! /​Hlaha! Uthlofan, lauflings!” (Velimir Khlebnikov, Collected Works of Velimir Khlebnikow, Vol. 3, Selected Poems, transl. P. Schmidt, ed. R. Vroon, Cambridge, Massachusetts –​London, England 1997, 30). For Author use only 41 Introduction laughterhood] on the other hand, brings spatial associations because it resonates with the word “uroczysko” [wilderness], etc.98 Another example of creative play discussed by the critic is Kamensky’s poem “Lecę” [I am flying].99 Once again, several reservations need to be made before proceeding. First of all, the poem “Na rzece” does not feature repetition of words because “rzece,” “rzec,” “cerze” and “mrze” are (also in the interpretation offered by Balcerzan) unrelated paronyms and not polyptotonic variations of the same word. Poems by Khlebnikov and Kamensky are certainly structured around repetitions, but of roots rather than of words (repetition of the latter is sporadic). Texts by Russian writers are closer to each other since both introduce intriguing word formation strategies, developing neologisms from a single root. The indicated stylistic sequence (creative play, word repetition) seems more coherent and better motivated than the one defined in terms of mutilation of words as long as we specify that discussion concerns repetition of sound clusters (“Na rzece”) or roots, and not of entire words. How can Balcerzan’s findings prove useful for classifying and describing the sonic tissue of Polish Futurist poems? It seems that a typology basing solely on the frequency of repetition would not be fruitful (incidentally, the scholar’s idea is not limited to simple quantification but also involves analysis of functions played by repeated elements).100 In case of a large body of works this criterion would be superficial since the shared element is common to many diverse texts. To recall once again, Balcerzan describes not the totality of sound devices in Polish and Russian Futurism. He indicates two ways of writing poems, pursuing which would clearly entail giving poems a specific, distinct sound. The described stylistic sequences appear problematic only due to the basis of categorization. Still, Balcerzan notes several issues that are relevant from the perspective of this 98 Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 70. See also Barbara Lönnqvist, “Sztuka jako zabawa w futuryzmie,” trans. Adam Pomorski, Literatura na Świecie 2 (1984), 65. 99 Wasilij Kamieński, “Letchu:” “Letchu nad ozerom /​Letaynost′ sovyershayu /​Letivy dukh /​Letit so mnoy /​Lotvistost′ w myslakh /​Letimost′ otrashayu –​/​Lotkiy wzor glubok /​Lotvieryen i ustoychiv /​Lotokiean shyrok. /​Letistinnaya radost′ /​Letisto uletat′ /​Letinnoyu vesnoy” (Vasily Kamenski, Stikhotvoreniya i poemy, Moscow 1966, 21; qtd. after Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 70). [I fly over a lake /​Fulfilling my flightness /​Flighting spirit /​Flying with me. /​Foliage-​flight in thought /​Thought-​ flight reflecting –​/​Deep flight-​feathers of eyes /​Flight-​sure and stately. /​Flight-​ ocean area. /​Flighty joy /​Flightily flying /​A flightening spring]. 100 The goal of Balcerzan’s argumentation is expressed in the following diagram (73; emphasis preserved) depicting the “obliteration of the boundary between the signifier and the signified:” “The pole of naturalistic record Na rzece The pole of creative play Mutilated word Repeated word.” For Author use only 42 Introduction study. As already mentioned, his most important observation is the one about the semantic consequences of phonic configurations. Moreover, the “creative play” he analyses demonstrates the significant role of word formation procedures in the discussed poems, while his category of “mutilated words” acknowledges the existence of a Futurist device that consists in decomposing words. However, the presented criteria seem inadequate to account for sound instrumentation in works by Jasieński, Młodożeniec or Stern. A different way of problematizing the question of irregular sound instrumentation in Polish Futurist poetry is signalled by Janusz Sławiński. His insight does not provide a general view of instrumentation in Wat, Stern, Młodożeniec, Jasieński and Czyżewski. However, this was not his aim in the study devoted to the Kraków Avant-​garde. Sławiński emphasizes the Futurist opposition to rigors of syntax, echoing Marinetti’s idea of “words in freedom.” He demonstrates that in Polish Futurism “setting words free is intrinsically connected with seeking new dependencies for them. Freed –​to a smaller or greater extent –​from syntactical oppositions, they would inevitably enter into new ones.”101 Sławiński discusses three variants of creating new motivations for words freed from syntax (although the specific terms have been coined for the purposes of this study by the author). The first two are closely connected with the development of the texts’ sonic structure. Works realizing the third variant, in turn, may feature additional organization of the phonic layer, although not necessarily. 1. Onomatopoeias beyond the syntax As Sławiński concludes, onomatopoeic sequences, which played such an important role in Futurist poems, were certainly an attempt to develop motivation for words. Freed from syntactical constraints, they would find direct support in extra-​linguistic sound events. Onomatopoeic motivation would often cover not just individual words, but also entire strings of words or even whole pieces (in Poland particularly in poems by Stanisław Młodożeniec, e.g. “Moskwa,” “Radioromans” and others). In thoroughly onomatopoeic sequences of words, syntactic relations could be almost entirely subdued; the main relation between words would consist in all of them co-​creating a “phonographic” counterpart to a certain homogenous complex of sounds (motorbike whirr, radio signals, etc.).102 In the group of devices indicated by the scholar we may discern a clear reference to both parole in libertà and asyntactic onomatopoeic structures postulated by 101 Janusz Sławiński, Koncepcja języka poetyckiego Awangardy Krakówskiej, Kraków 1998, 87. Contrary to what Bogdana Carpenter argues in Poetic Avant-​Garde in Poland (xv), syntax would be questioned by Polish Futurists, the consequences of which are both aesthetic and semantic. 102 Sławiński, Koncepcja języka, 87–​8; emphasis added. For Author use only Introduction 43 Marinetti.103 Sławiński distinguishes a body of works in which onomatopoeia becomes a crucial device in the poem’s structure. This observation may be important from the perspective of classifying instrumentation phenomena in Polish Futurist poetry. 2. Automatic harmonies Another way of foregrounding sound in Futurism was to seek relations based on automatic harmonies between words (e.g. in Bruno Jasieński’s “Na rzece” and “Wiosenno”), regardless of their syntactic connections. Words would support each other, although outside of sentence discipline, following a more or less random sequence of harmonies.104 The problem indicated by Sławiński opens an important path for the examination of Futurist sound strategies, not only in the context of Marinetti. Analyses contained in this study attempt to demonstrate the degree to which the harmonies found in Futurist poems are automatic, inert devices meant to make poems homophonic, and to what extent they are correlated with semantics.105 Let us pause and consider the question (only vaguely indicated by the critic) of syntactic relations between harmonizing words. Most Futurist poems do not aestheticize syntax, as is the case with works from the circle of the Kraków Avant-​garde. The former sometimes sorely tried syntax, running the risk of making the text incomprehensible. In certain passages from works recalled by Sławiński (“TARAS koTARA S TARA raZ” and “osty na mosty krost wodorosty tupoty kopyt” –​both from “Wiosenno”106 by Jasieński) Polish poets indeed approximate Marinetti’s idea of freeing words from syntax.107 The asyntactic and random connections between words in passages like “białe panny poezjanny poezowią poezawią” [white poem-​ girls are poeting] or “rośnym pełnowosnym ranem poezawią poezowią pierwsze szesnastoletnie letnie naiwne dziwne wiersze” [at the brisk and ripe summer morning they are poetring the first sixteen-​year-​old naïve weird poems] (both from “Wiosenno”) nevertheless seem debatable. Certainly, phonic ordering is foregrounded here, but semantics and syntax remain quite clear.108 103 Another matter is that numerous Futurist onomatopoeias (for example “diń –​diń” from “Radioromans” indicated by Sławiński) would not be considered by Marinetti –​ Sławiński argues –​as complex onomatopoeias (ibidem) but as less valued, simple and realistic ones. Cf. the second section of the third chapter. 104 Sławiński, Koncepcja języka, 88. 105 One important step towards this kind of diagnosis is Balcerzan’s argumentation based on the discussed “imitation experiment.” 106 The second section of Chapter Three cites the text in full and provides an analysis. 107 See the apt description by Aleksandra Okopień-​Sławińska in “Wiersz awangardowy dwudziestolecia międzywojennego (podstawy, granice, możliwości),” Pamiętnik Literacki 2 (1965), 441. 108 Let us note the interesting differences in the interpretation of the poem “Na rzece.” Balcerzan indicates the existence of a coherent semantic dimension (syntax proves For Author use only 44 Introduction Sławiński identifies the source of inspiration for such realizations (which “develop the expression by building up a “sound-​mass” of words”) as the “partial … understanding … of linguistic experiments carried out by Velimir Khlebnikov.”109 The question of relations between Polish Futurism and the Russian’s works and concepts surely demands further study.110 3. Inter-​word oppositions As Sławiński argues, the works that come closest to Marinetti’s idea of “words in freedom” are the ones in which oppositions between words are “obscured” by inter-​ word oppositions (such as “parlowacąc,” “zawiośniało,” “upapierzam,” “poemacę,” “cicholas,” “cichosennie” in works by Młodożeniec and Jasieński).111 In such cases, the syntactic relation is “supplanted,” as it were, by relations between components of words.112 Freed from the syntactic context, words themselves become the context for their own elements. In many Futurist poems (the device was taken to the extreme by Młodożeniec) such an explication of word formation procedures plays a fundamental role, especially in situations when word formation oppositions are expressed in the very shape of the lexical neologism (e.g. the tension between adjectival and nominal roots and “dynamizing” verbal suffixes).113 Neologistic compounds indeed capture the readers’ attention, in fact becoming the poems’ protagonists. However, it is difficult to discern their affinity with “words in freedom” as postulated by Sławiński. Syntactic configurations that are less distinct in comparison with the intense use of lexical neologisms move into the background yet remain significant, contrary to Marinetti’s injunction. They hold together groups of neologisms, forming a coherent whole that can be analysed in semantic and grammatical terms (e.g. Jasieński’s famous passage: “zalistowiał cichosennie w cichopłaczu cicholas” [silent-​forest leafed silent-​sleepily in silent-​cry]). Operations of this kind do not meet the fundamental criteria of parole in libertà because they fail to lend greater dynamism to the text and go against Marinetti’s recommendations by using adjectives and adverbs, which are woven inside words114 (e.g. in the adverbial 109 110 111 112 113 114 indispensable to develop this –​“na cerze mrze” being read in this interpretation as a sentence fragment), while Sławiński recognizes here a “random sequence of harmonies” (similarly to Głowiński, Okopień-​Sławińska and Sławiński in Zarys teorii literatury, 155). Sławiński, Koncepcja języka, 88 (fn. 27). The two poems mentioned by Sławiński –​“Wiosenno” and “Na rzece” –​require a somewhat different account. See analyses in Chapter Two, pp. 202–203, 206–211. In the 1965 edition of Koncepcja języka, Sławiński specifies that “we should note that syntax continues to function yet moves into the background in relation to innovative, inter-​word experimentation in the area of neologisms” (43). Sławiński, Koncepcja języka, 88–​9; emphasis added. See F. T. Marinetti, “Manifeste technique de la Littérature futuriste (1912),” in Givoanni Lista, Futurisme. Manifestes –​proclamations –​documents, Lausanne 1973, For Author use only Introduction 45 compound “cichosennie” [silent-​sleepily]). Furthermore, a central place is occupied by word formation operations that Marinetti does not discuss.115 Sławiński’s account proves valuable for this study since he indicates a Khlebnikov-​oriented strand within Polish Futurist poetry, the role of numerous onomatopoeias and the problem of automatic harmonies. The last aspect he elaborates on (inter-​word oppositions) appears to be the most debatable; however, what emerges from this is an important conclusion about the significance of word formation efforts for the Futurists. This immediately raises a question regarding the relationship between the ingenuous word formation encountered in Polish poetry and the lyricism of Khlebnikov. Finally, the issue of automatic harmonies, identified by Sławiński, calls for closer examination. Although the above scholarly findings were not originally meant as a description of the sonic universe of Polish Futurist poetry, they provide a compelling point of departure for the debate about the phonic dimension of works by Młodożeniec, Jasieński or Wat, rather than offering exhaustive analyses and typologies. No one has so far developed a broad and comprehensive account of the sonic form of Futurist poetry. Furthermore, even the inevitable references to the European avant-​garde or the Polish literary tradition have been merely signalled. A discussion of issues that constitute the focus of this study should acknowledge several groups of problems, combining perspectives afforded by literary history, literary theory, and –​quite significantly –​linguistics.116 Therefore, research in literary studies done so far in this area shall not define the horizon or the methods of the present enquiry, although it does provide valuable hints regarding the problematization of the phenomena in question and their analysis. 133–​4. (For an English version see F. T. Marinetti, “Technical Manifesto of Futurist Literature (May 11, 1912),” Selected Writings, ed. R. W. Flint, trans. R. W. Flint, A. A. Coppotelli, London 1972, 84 ff). See also the later claims by Marinetti regarding the purposefulness of using adjectives in certain kinds of poems: F. T. Marinetti, “La splendeur géométrique et mécanique et la sensibilité numerique (1914),” in Lista, Futurisme, 149. (For an English version see F. T. Marinetti, “Geometric and Mechanical Splendor and the Numerical Sensibility (March 18, 1914),” in Selected Writings, 99). 115 The Italian leader of the Futurists only postulated forming noun pairs imitative of compounds (“complex nouns” as Heistein termed them), e.g. “człowiek-​torpeda” [human-​torpedo] or “tłum-​fala” [crowd-​wave]; see for example: Józef Heistein, Wprowadzenie do literaturoznawstwa porównawczego. Literatura awangardowa w świetle badań porównawczych, Wrocław 1990, 125. This kind of device –​i.e. combining two nouns in their original visual and sound form –​is not, strictly speaking, a word formation operation; an important role is played here by the visual aspect, which clearly differentiates the resultant forms from regular compounds (open and closed). 116 See Skubalanka, Polska poezja futurystyczna, 2. For Author use only 46 Introduction Finally, one more research topic needs to be mentioned. Irregular sound instrumentation is often linked with the concept of musicality, acknowledging the special appreciation for the sonic aspect of poems as a factor that facilitates bringing literature and music closer. At this stage, we should refer to the typology of relations between these two arts formulated by Andrzej Hejmej. In the case of Polish Futurism we certainly deal with what he calls “type I musicality” of the poem’s phonic tissue, which he defines as bearing “all hallmarks associated with sound instrumentation and prosody, consciously developed in relation to both the music of nature and, to a lesser extent, to the music of culture.”117 The question of the sound of this poetry is complicated by the appearance of “type II musicality” (thematization of music), which emerges primarily in texts alluding to the poetics from the turn of the nineteenth and twentieth century, while “type III musicality” (replicating structures of musical pieces in literary texts)118 practically does not appear in this context. It is instrumentation that remains the fundamental question. Accounts of literature’s sonic entanglements also employ terms such “acoustic,” “auditory,” “phonic” or “sonic” character. They are nevertheless much broader than the actual scope of phenomena in the area of irregular sound instrumentation because they also cover regular instrumentation, which is in turn linked with numerical versification: domains invoked in this study only as context for other discussions. Thus, the arrangement of research problems proposed in this study takes the above findings only partially into account. What this book aims to deliver is a relatively comprehensive account of instrumentation devices used in Polish Futurist poetry as well as a considerably broad visual and auditory perspective –​yet clearly determined by monographic boundaries –​of selected phonostylistic aspects of texts produced by the European avant-​garde, Polish folklore and the Young Poland poets. The book is thus structured as follows. The first chapter, titled “ ‘Nebular, milky goblets full of pearls:’ Futurism and the ‘musicality’ of Young Poland,” discusses instrumentation-​related entanglements of Young Poland’s ““musicality,”” primarily presenting various relations in the area of instrumentation and semantics between Futurist works and the poetics that dominated at the turn of the nineteenth and twentieth century. The second chapter, titled “Imitating Khlebnikov: The ‘neologistic’ current in Polish Futurism” opens with an account of instrumentation identified in lyrical and meta-​artistic works by Velimir Khlebnikov. This serves as an introduction to the study of word formation in Polish Futurism and its influence on the poems’ phonostylistics and semantics. The chapter investigates mechanisms that tie word formation with the valorization of sound, aiming to ascertain the degree of similarity to (or even dependence on) works by Khlebnikov. 117 Andrzej Hejmej, Muzyczność dzieła literackiego, Wrocław 2002, 52. 118 Hejmej, Muzyczność dzieła literackiego, 53–​67. For Author use only Introduction 47 The third chapter, titled “Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? How much Dada is there in Polish Futurism?” is the weightiest part of the book as it presents various aspects of irregular sound instrumentation in works by Polish Futurists as well as German and French Dadaists. Discussion covers Polish pieces considered by scholars to be par excellence Dadaist as well as texts that can be deemed, on various grounds, as displaying Dadaist tendencies. Poems by Polish authors are compared with many works by representatives of Dadaism, focusing on issues such as freeing sounds and making the poetic language onomatopoeic, as well as questions of pure nonsense, panopticon-​like poetics, and ludic narrativity. One additional goal is to indicate other, rarely discerned contexts in the history of Polish Futurism and finally to answer the question posed in the chapter’s title. The fourth chapter, titled “ ‘PlAY, mY shepherd’s pIPE:’ Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry” discusses Futurist borrowings from folk tradition, which can be traced in the phonic dimension of poems. Focus is placed on the ways of introducing and functionalizing elements responsible for the phonic stylization of texts that imitate the folk character. The conclusion of the book attempts to situate the discussed phonostylistic issues in the context of studies devoted to Polish contemporary and interwar poetry. This arrangement excludes a separate chapter devoted to relations between works by Jasieński, Czyżewski, Wat, Stern and Młodożeniec, on the one hand, and Italian Futurism on the other. This certainly does not mean that the latter’s ideas and works (especially Marinetti’s) are disregarded here. Questions of “words in freedom” and the phonic consequences of realizing this postulate recur throughout this study. Furthermore, it reconstructs the theory of onomatopoeia formulated by the Italian artist. These questions are closely related to other problems that hold a more prominent place in this book. *** Freedom from patriotic duties, disdain for “ossified” tradition, a sense of artistic freshness, and admiration for possible experimentation are some of the aspects of Polish literature after 1918 that have especially informed Futurist poetry. They can be easily identified in the domain of sound, which has variously shaped the meaning of these texts and their reception. Accordingly, one of the purposes of this study is to demonstrate the links between sound patterns and the emergence of meaning, as well as to examine sound structures that balance between semantic and asemantic character, and to scrutinize phonic arabesques. Pages from poetry volumes and literary magazines contain astonishing processions of letters. Futurist typography and orthography, which supplement the phonic layer of poems, often themselves become the subject of analysis in this study. The final question is the cohesion of individual works. As it turns out, usage of sound patterns that teeter For Author use only 48 Introduction on the verge of the language system, or of shocking (typo)graphical devices does not have to make particular works incoherent.119 Analyses attempt to take into account various relations between the visual aspect of the poems and the perception of their sound (which is especially important in the situation of silent reading).120 Spelling is modernized in cases when this does not affect sound instrumentation, which constitutes a rare yet observable correlation.121 If later, critical editions contain alternative versions of the text (or ones modified by the authors themselves before 1926)122 –​different from the orig­ inally published text and notable from the perspective of this study –​quotations follow the original printing, while differences are indicated in footnotes. If there are no significant editorial changes, quotations come from widely available critical editions. Finally, if authors themselves revised their own works before 1926 (including changes in spelling), analysis follows the modified version of the text. *** I have become indebted to many people while working on this lengthy volume. I would like to express my gratitude to Aleksandra Okopień-​ Sławińska and Włodzimierz Bolecki for their kind and insightful feedback and comments during the review process of the first version of this study. Furthermore, I wish to express my deep gratitude to the late Grzegorz Gazda for his long-​standing academic guidance, which culminated in the completion of this monograph. I am very grateful to my colleagues and friends from the Department of Historical Poetics of the Institute of Literary Research of the Polish Academy of Sciences for invaluable discussions on various artistic incarnations of the avant-​garde: Tamara Brzostowska-​Tereszkiewicz, Andrzej Karcz, Agnieszka Kluba, Zdzisław Łapiński, Magdalena Rembowska-​Płuciennik, Janusz Sławiński and Piotr Sobolczyk. Special thanks are also due to my husband, Jerzy Gaszewski, who was the first and most 119 This study adopts the perspective developed by Bolecki in the article “Spójność tekstu (literackiego) jest konwencją,” in Teoretycznoliterackie tematy i problem, ed. J. Sławiński, Wrocław 1986, 149–​74. As Bolecki notes on 168, “there are texts in which the language dimension does not form an unfolding sequence of sentences. These include, for example, iconic representations of thought processes, which many linguists consider to be examples of incoherent texts. I would prefer to argue that in this case we deal with distortions of mechanisms responsible for developing or constructing sentences, as well as with coherence achieved at the textual level, i.e. in terms of narrative technique (or convention).” A similar line of thought could be adopted in analyses of non-​traditional poetry. 120 See Okopień-​Sławińska, “Pomysły do teorii wiersza współczesnego,” 179. 121 Interestingly, sometimes also the spelling can pretend that there are sound sim­ ilarities, which actually do not exist (e.g. in the case of Polish words containing “r” and “rz”). 122 A special case of this is the first part of Futuro-​gamy i futuro-​pejzaże by Młodożeniec. See fn. 29. For Author use only newgenprepdf Introduction 49 patient reader of different versions of the text. I also wish to thank all those who helped me with studying language-​specific aspects of German and French avant-​ garde works: Magdalena Hasiuk, Kalina Kupczyńska, Piotr Olkusz and Karolina Sidowska. Finally, I am greatly indebted to Adam Pomorski for his comments regarding the Russian contexts of the phenomena I have studied. I would also like to thank Jerzy Jarniewicz, Monika Kocot and Violetta Wiernicka for their help at the very last stages of work on the English version of the monograph. I also wish to express my gratitude for supporting my Futurist explorations to my parents, siblings and grandparents. I wish to thank Magdalena Hasiuk, Magdalena Lachman and Aleksandra Sumorok for their friendship and conversations that were truly important for me. The first Polish edition of this monograph (titled “Nuż w uhu?” Koncepcje dźwięku w poezji polskiego futuryzmu) was completed and published thanks to support from the Foundation for Polish Science. The present translation into English and its publication were funded by the Ministry of Science and Higher Education of the Republic of Poland as a part of the National Programme for the Development of the Humanities (NPRH; programme “Uniwersalia 2.1”, grant No. 21H 18 0153 87). I made every effort to trace copyright holders and to obtain their permission for the use of copyright material. I apologize for any errors or omissions and would be grateful if notified of any corrections that should be incorporated in future editions of this monograph. For Author use only For Author use only Chapter One “ Nebular, milky goblets full of pearls:”1 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland Turning to analysis, the first issue we must address is the relation between Futurist poetry and its immediate predecessor: lyricism at the turn of the nineteenth and twentieth century.2 Certainly, every new artistic ideology … does not just desire to find an opponent for itself but simply needs one … Innovative poetic trends in the first half of the [twentieth] century were lucky in this respect. Futurism, cubism, surrealism and Polish constructivism would not be possible without their struggle with symbolism.3 1 2 3 Passage from Anatol Stern’s poem “Pereł” [Pearls] analysed further in this chapter. This term is used interchangeably here with “Young Poland,” although it is certainly a terminological simplification. See Kazimierz Wyka, Młoda Polska, Vol. 1, Kraków 1977, 262; Teresa Walas, Ku otchłani (dekadentyzm w literaturze polskiej 1890–​1905), Kraków 1986, 263; Henryk Markiewicz, “Młoda Polska i ‘izmy’,” in Wyka, Młoda Polska, 317, 344–​348. However, to show the background and roots of literary processes in question it is sometimes necessary to resort to generalizations. Zbigniew Bieńkowski, “Izmy tamtego dwudziestolecia,” in Poezja i niepoezja, Warszawa 1967, 185–​186. In Young Poland, symbolism, impressionism and expressionism were not entirely separate currents marked by clear, impassable boundaries (see e.g.: Andrzej Z. Makowiecki, “Modernizm,” in Lektury i problemy, ed. Janusz Maciejewski, Warszawa 1976, 97; Markiewicz, “Młoda Polska i ‘izmy’,” 317–​330, 356, 360; Agnieszka Kluba, “Symbolizm w Polsce. Rekonesans,” in Autoteliczność –​ referencyjność –​niewyrażalność. O nowoczesnej poezji polskiej (1918–​1939), Wrocław 2004, 23–​24 ff). A radical interpretation of the question of symbolism in Polish literature was offered by Janusz Sławiński, who rightly claims that we may treat “Young Poland and symbolism as different phenomena, even opposing ones in a certain sense” and suggests that the term “symbolism” could play in Young Poland “the role of a fetish that would not correspond to any facts in poetry and poetics” (Janusz Sławiński, A review of Szkice literackie by Bolesław Leśmian, Pamiętnik Literacki 1 (1961), 222). I use the term “symbolism” (in relation to Polish literature) in order to generally indicate the formation that was particularly interested in atmosphere and the “musicality” of poetry. I am aware of the generalizations made in this tentative analysis, but they are difficult to avoid. Moreover, I do not discuss the specific character of Polish superficial symbolism (for more on this question see 80–​82) or the various interrelations between symbolism, expressionism, impressionism and Art Deco. Terminological problems are further complicated by the ambiguity of the term “modernism” (see e.g. Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Modernizm w literaturze polskiej XX wieku (rekonesans),” Teksty Drugie 4 (2002), 11–​34; Grzegorz Gazda, For Author use only 52 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland From the perspective assumed in this study, one particularly important aspect of Young Poland lyricism –​a clear point of reference for inter-​war poetry –​is the specific “musicality” whose echoes can be heard in Polish Futurist poems. Thus, we should specify what the “musicality” of major currents in Polish poetry at the turn of the centuries actually consisted in, indicating crucial means of developing its musical dimension. However, despite clear interdependencies, “musicality” and sound instrumentation have never been synonymous. Detailed discussion of the overlaps between music and literature, or analysis of various research perspectives on this topic lie beyond the scope of this book.4 Due to their different material, possible correspondences between the two arts are invariably based on certain allusions in terms of composition or semantics, never really facilitating identity between particular works. Some altogether negate the existence of any relationship between poetry and music.5 Usually, however, despite indicating impassable barriers between word and music, scholars would discern possible interactions, mapping areas of feasible correspondences yet formulating numerous “reservations owing to the fact that this territory is mined.”6 Because connections between music and literature can be only partial, it appears that the most justified approach would involve treating the concept of “musicality” only metaphorically.7 This is further grounded in the specificity of how Young Poland regarded the relation between these two domains of art. 4 5 6 7 “Modernizm i modernizmy (Uwagi o semantyce i pragmatyce terminu),” in Dialog, komparatystyka, literatura, eds. E. Kasperski, D. Ulicka, Warszawa 2002, 115–​26). For more detailed studies, see: Andrzej Hejmej, Muzyczność dzieła literackiego, Wrocław 2002, 5–​67; Andrzej Hejmej, “Partytura literacka. Przedmiot badań komparatystyki interdyscyplinarnej,” Teksty Drugie 4 (2003), 34–​46; Andrzej Hejmej, Muzyka w literaturze. Perspektywy komparatystyki interdyscyplinarnej, Kraków 2008, 39–​107; Paulina Kierzek, Muzyka w “Żywych kamieniach” Wacława Berenta, Kraków 2004, 15–​43; Michał Bristiger, Związki muzyki ze słowem, Warszawa 1986, 9–​30. See also Stanisław Dąbrowski, “Muzyka w literaturze. (Próba przeglądu zagadnień),” Poezja 3 (1980), 19–​32. See Tadeusz Szulc, Muzyka w dziele literackim, Warszawa 1937. According to Szulc, seeking ties between literature (which is based on semantics) and music (which is based on asemantic sound) is a misunderstanding rooted in erroneous assumptions. Tadeusz Makowiecki, Muzyka w twórczości Wyspiańskiego, Toruń 1955, 3; see also Czesław Zgorzelski, “Elementy ‘muzyczności’ w poezji lirycznej,” in Problemy teorii literatury, Vol. 3, ed. H. Markiewicz, Wrocław 1988, 57–​73; the controversial text by Jan Błoński, “Ut musica poësis?,” Twórczość 9 (1980), 110–​22, and the aforementioned works by Hejmej, Bristiger, Kierzek and Dąbrowski; see also Stefania Skwarczyńska, Wstęp do nauki o literaturze, Vol. 3, Warszawa 1965, 282–​287; Intersemiotyczność. Literatura wobec innych sztuk (i odwrotnie). Studia, eds. S. Balbus, A. Hejmej, J. Niedźwiedź, Kraków 2004 (especially part VI: “Literatura –​muzyka”). See Stefania Skwarczyńska, “Niedostrzeżony podstawowy problem genologii,” in Problemy teorii literatury, ed. H. Markiewicz, Wrocław 1967, 148; Mikhail Bakthin, Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics, trans. C. Emerson, Minneapolis 1999, 41–​2; Lucylla For Author use only “Musicality” and sound in Young Poland poetry 53 1. “ Musicality” and sound in Young Poland poetry In the nineteenth century, Romanticism8 and symbolism –​which developed fur­ ther the concept of correspondance des arts –​viewed music as a form of art close to the Absolute and a perfect rendition of moods, emotions, impressions and states of mind.9 Arthur Schopenhauer, one of the main proponents of literary “musicality” in the nineteenth century, argues that “music is … different from all the other arts in that it is not a copy of appearance.”10 Friedrich Nietzsche, in turn, claimed that “melody is the primary and general element. … Melody gives birth to poetry and does so over and over again.”11 Love of music had a special impact on literature. In the manifesto titled “Ars poetica” Paul Verlaine writes: Music first and foremost! In your verse, Choose those meters odd of syllable, Supple in the air, vague, flexible, Free of pounding beat, heavy or terse. Choose the words you use—​now right, now wrong—​ With abandon: when the poet’s vision Couples the Precise with Imprecision, Best the giddy shadows of his song: … Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, Wrocław 1977, 51; Kierzek, Muzyka w “Żywych kamieniach,” 29–​37. 8 See Juliusz Starzyński, O romantycznej syntezie sztuk. Delacroix, Chopin, Baudelaire, Warszawa 1965. 9 Nineteenth-​ century advocates of music included, among others, “Schelling, Schopenhauer, Hegel, Carlyle, Poe, Wagner, Mallarmé, Nietzsche (later –​Claudel) and many others, including Polish writers and critics.” Maria Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, “O muzycznej i niemuzycznej koncepcji poezji,” in Somnabulicy –​dekadenci –​herosi, Kraków 1985, 431–​2. Also see Adam Ważyk, Dziwna historia awangardy, Warszawa 1976, 9–​10, who remarks on the symbolist “sonic mysteriousness and mysterious sound” in works by Poe, Verlaine and Mallarmé; and Mieczysław Tomaszewski, “Muzyka i literatura,” in Słownik literatury polskiej XIX wieku, eds. Józef Bachórz, Alina Kowalczykowa, Wrocław 1991, 579. 10 Arthur Schopenhauer, The World as Will and Representation, Vol. 1, trans. J. Norman, A. Welchman, Ch. Janaway, Cambridge 2010, 290. 11 Friedrich Nietzsche, The Birth of Tragedy and Other Writings, trans. R. Speirs, Cambridge 1999, 33. The philosopher also concludes: “Lyric poetry can say nothing that was not already contained, in a condition of the most enormous generality and universal validity, within the music which forced the lyric poet to speak in images. For this reason it is impossible for language to exhaust the meaning of music’s world-​symbolism, because music refers symbolically to the original contradiction and original pain at the heart of primordial unity, and thus symbolizes a sphere which lies above and beyond all appearance” (36). For Author use only 54 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland For Nuance, not Color absolute, Is your goal; subtle and shaded hue! Nuance! It alone is what lets you Marry dream to dream and horn to flute!12 Today, music would be associated with poetry in terms of conceptual orchestration rather than ambiguity, textual laxity, or semantically nebulous character. Literary “musicality” of the period was rooted in the belief that the proximity of music, which stirs emotion yet does not burden one with particular meanings, can be achieved through obscurity, “indeterminacy and alogical character,” “suggestions of the emotional sphere and transcendental feeling”13 as well as “communication of mood –​from the poet’s soul to the soul of the reader.”14 “Musicality” would thus concern the very fact of navigating a sea of “nebulous and indeterminate ideas, mysterious depths and regions of transcendence, which cannot be named or expressed in the language of traditional art.”15 Lack of clarity or specificity, as well as attempts to convey the inexpressible would therefore characterize both the works adopting a soft, oneiric mood and ones approximating poetic expressionism. In this sense, most musical works are marked by uncertainty, suggestiveness and complication.16 12 Translated by Norman R. Shapiro. Qtd. after https://​www.poetr​yfou​ndat​ion.org/​ poems/​55034/​ars-​poet​ica-​56d236​1d56​078 (accessed 5 July 2021). 13 Both quotations qtd. after Maria Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, Symbolizm i symbolika w poezji Młodej Polski, Kraków 1975, 313. 14 Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 87. 15 Artur Hutnikiewicz, Młoda Polska, Warszawa 1997, 25. See also Michał Głowiński, “Literackość muzyki –​muzyczność literatury,” in Narracje literackie i nieliterackie. Prace wybrane, Vol. 2, Kraków 1997, 201; Anna Sobieska, Twórczość Leśmiana w kręgu filozoficznej myśli symbolizmu rosyjskiego, Kraków 2005, 113; Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, Symbolizm i symbolika, 315. A similar perspective of “musicality” was developed in Błoński, “Ut musica poësis?,” 114–​7. 16 See Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Modalność (Literaturoznawstwo i kognitywizm. Rekonesans),” in Sporne i bezsporne problemy wiedzy o literaturze, eds. Włodzimierz Bolecki, Ryszard Nycz, Warszawa 2002, 433–​436. As Podraza-​Kwiatkowska notes, in the semantic dimension “the sense of vagueness was achieved using different means, including presentation of shapeless substances such as water, smoke, mist, vapours, or indeterminate shapes like the ‘half-​worldly, half-​bodily’ one in Tetmajer, various apparitions, shadows and unspecified ‘figures.’ The vagueness of shapes was also augmented by the light of dusk and a colour palette based on half-​tones. The preferred kind of movement is flowing or drifting. Hence the shapeless yarn, spider’s webs, ‘dusk linen’ (Staff), etc., and frequent use of unspecific pronouns like ‘someone’ or ‘something.’ Space is also undetermined: faraway, distant, somewhere, sometime. There are phrases expressing doubt: ‘it seems’ or ‘it appears’ (realizing a function different than comparison), ‘unsure soul’ (Staff)” (Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, For Author use only “Musicality” and sound in Young Poland poetry 55 Fascination with music was also shaped by the reception of Richard Wagner’s idea of universal art unifying all of its domains.17 It was believed that “there shall be continuous scale ranging from sounds to words and colours without any of today’s boundaries”18 and that any further divisions between music, literature and painting will be obliterated. Art was supposed to affect all senses, without dividing what used to constitute a unity of experience.19 Synaesthesia and “coloured audition” [audition colorée] emerged as the perfect means of overcoming these divisions, as formulated in two programmatic sonnets: Baudelaire’s “Correspondances” [Correspondences] and Rimbaud’s “Voyelles” [Vowels]. The above discussion focuses on Western European concepts, but the rich and original tradition of Russian symbolism needs to be acknowledged in this context. The latter would rather associate literary “musicality” with the mystical, the eschatological and the ritualistic.20 According to Anna Sobieska, Russians would regard music as “an audible sign of an inaudible presence, a bridge leading to the inexpressible, … God’s vehicle announcing His presence.”21 17 18 19 20 21 Symbolizm i symbolika, 311–​312). See also the remarks made by Walas regarding the “multi-​layered dictionary of Decadentism” with key words being “autumn,” “dusk,” “night,” “emptiness,” “nothingness,” “pain,” “sorrow,” “discouragement” (Walas, Ku otchłani, 259–​60). In 1903, J. Wiśniowski called Wagner “one of the greatest poets of the world” (qtd. after Wyka, Młoda Polska, 259). Stanisław Przybyszewski, “Z psychologii jednostki twórczej;” qtd. after Podraza-​ Kwiatkowska, O muzycznej i niemuzycznej koncpecji poezji, 432. See also Maria Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, Młodopolskie harmonie i dysonanse, Warszawa 1969, 37. For information on attempts to combine music and visual arts in symbolism and the Great Avant-​garde see the excellent study Vom Klang der Bilder. Die Musik in der Kunst des 20. Jahrhunderts, München 1985. See Stanisław Przybyszewski, “O ‘nową’ sztukę,” Życie 6 (1899); Wyka, Młoda Polska, 250; Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Metaliteratura wczesnego modernizmu. ‘Pałuba’ Karola Irzykowskiego,” Arkusz 2 (2003), 5; Jan Prokop, “Młodopolska utopia pozakodowej komunikacji,” Teksty 2 (1976), 113–​4. See Sobieska, Twórczość Leśmiana, 114–​5. Sobieska, Twórczość Leśmiana, 130. The scholar also adds: “Tying music with con­ templation, holding the conviction about its ability to offer insight and considering sound as a phenomenon … that tames hostile forces and has creative power are all traits that I consider to be representative of Russian symbolism. Moreover, they expand the concept of “musicality” developed by French symbolists” (131). Andrey Bely, one of the prominent symbolists (who also played an important role in the Russian avant-​garde) writes that “only music demonstrates that the real is merely a veil covering an abyss. Poetry regards the real in musical terms, as a veil over the inexpressible mystery of the soul … Music is the backbone of poetry;” qtd. after Zbigniew Barański, “Symbolizm,” in Historia literatury rosyjskiej, Vol. 2, ed. M. Jakóbiec, Warszawa 1976, 574–​5; see also Krystyna Pomorska, Russian Formalist Theory and Its Poetic Ambiance, The Hague 1968, 79. For Author use only 56 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland Turning from this sketchy outline of “musicality” in European symbolism, the following aims to discuss, in greater detail, the immanentist poetics of Young Poland lyricism.22 One of the trademarks of Polish poetry from that period is the synaesthesia praised by symbolists: Ach, słodko w słońcu płacze cisza modra; Śmiechem zieleni nucą złote liście –​ [Oh, how sweet the deep blue silence cries in the sun; Golden leaves hum green laughter –​] (Józef Jedlicz, “Nieznanemu Bogu” [To an unknown God])23 pijmy kwiatów woń rzeźwą, co na zboczach gór kwitną, dźwięczne, barwne i wonne, w głąb wzlatujmy błękitną. [let us drink the fresh aroma of flowers growing on the slopes, resonant, colourful and fragrant, let us soar into the blue depth,] (Kazimierz Przerwa-​Tetmajer, “Melodia mgieł nocnych” [Melody of night mists], PMP 39)24 Lubię te dźwięki pełne, szerokie, brązowe, brzmiące wiecznie tą samą melodyjną nutą, [I love these sounds –​full, broad, brown, resounding ever with the same melodic note] (Kazimierz Przerwa-​Tetmajer, “O sonecie” [On sonnet], PMP 45) The atmospheric, mysterious and synesthetic character (theoretically not implicating euphonic means) was regarded as musical par excellence. “Attempts to adopt musical patterns in literature would also come to include formal and compositional 22 To some extent, I repeat the generalizations made by authors from the turn of the centuries “for whom the entirety of new French poetry appeared to be symbolist” (Mieczysław Jastrun, “Wstęp,” in Symboliści francuscy, xxiv; see also Anna Nasiłowska, “Znaczenie symbolizmu,” in Persona liryczna, Warszawa 2000, 81–​2). 23 Qtd. after Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, Symbolizm i symbolika, 291. Unless stated oth­ erwise, all emphases in literary works quoted in this part of the book are by the author. I usually underscore the clearest examples of devices I am interested in. No effort has been made to homogenize these emphases: sometimes only alliterations, assonances and consonances are underlined or marked in bold, and sometimes also onomatopoeias or synaesthesias. The scope and means of indicating emphases are determined by the direction taken in the analysis of particular works. 24 Most Young Poland poems qtd. after Antologia liryki Młodej Polski, ed. I. Sikora, Wrocław 1990 or Poezja Młodej Polski, eds. M. Jastrun, J. Kamionkowa, Wrocław 1967; hereinafter referred to in abbreviated form as AlMP and PMP, respectively, with page numbers following the abbreviation. For Author use only “Musicality” and sound in Young Poland poetry 57 matters.”25 Although translation of musical forms into poetry was not pioneered by symbolism,26 the movement most eagerly supported all such interdisciplinary efforts. Despite the fundamental difference of material, poets do have at their disposal means such as refrain, parallelism, interweaving or contrasting themes and establishing leitmotifs –​all of which facilitate modelling literary works on musical compositions. In Young Poland, this challenge was taken up by writers like Wacław Rolicz-​ Lieder (the “poetic symphony” “Gdy dzwonki szwajcarskie symfonię grają: Oremus!” [When all the Swiss bells are playing the symphony: Oremus!];27 “Modlitwa na organy” [Prayer for pipe organ]),28 Maria Grossek-​Korycka (Sonaty mol [Sonatas in minor], “Miserere mei Domine”)29 and Stanisław Przybyszewski (whose prose poem “Totenmesse” attempted to translate Chopin’s Polonaise in F sharp minor, op. 44).30 Works of this type would be usually given titles refer­ encing music.31 Still, usage of musical terminology was not limited to texts alluding to the structure of musical compositions. Such terms would also appear in titles of poetry books, cycles of poems and works loosely suggesting musical structures (sometimes without any ground), e.g.: Preludia [Preludes] (Edward Leszczyński, Kazimierz Przerwa-​ Tetmajer); “Nokturn,” “Menuet” [Nocturne, Menuet] (Bronisława Ostrowska); “Serenada,” “Msza żałobna” [Serenade, Funeral mass] (Tadeusz Miciński); “Kontralto” [Contralto] (Mamert Wikszemski); “Przygrywka” [Prelude] (Władysław Orkan); “Czardasz,” “Dawna nuta” [Czardas, Old tune] (Przerwa-​Tetmajer).32 25 Dąbrowski, “Muzyka w literaturze,” 28. 26 Earlier, this was attempted in Poland by Kornel Ujejski, who tried to translate musical pieces by Chopin and Beethoven into the language of literature (see Krystyna Poklewska, “Wstęp. Kornel Ujejski –​poeta romantyczny,” in Kornel Ujejski, Wybór poezji i prozy, ed. K. Poklewska, Wrocław 1992, lxxxviii-​xci). 27 For a comparative analysis of the work by Rolicz-​Lieder and the structure of sym­ phony, see Maria Januszewicz, “Poemat Wacława Rolicz-​Liedera ‘Gdy dzwonki szwajcarskie’ przykładem ‘poetyckiej symfonii’,” in Genologia i konteksty, ed. Cz. P. Dutka, Zielona Góra 2000, 241–​8. 28 See Maria Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, Wacław Rolicz-​Lieder, Warszawa 1966, 153; Jerzy Skarbowski, “Wacław Rolicz-​Lieder –​poeta muzycznych dzwonów,” in Literatura –​ muzyka. Zbliżenia i dialogi, Warszawa 1981, 46, 50–​5. 29 See Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, Symbolizm i symbolika, 314. 30 The musical interests of Przybyszewski are broadly discussed by Jerzy Skarbowski in “Muzyczne fascynacje Stanisława Przybyszewskiego,” in Literatura –​muzyka, 76–​91. 31 Interestingly, a similar situation can be observed in the case of Young Poland musical works: sometimes instrumental works would receive literary titles. Michał Głowiński, “Literatura a muzyka,” in Słownik literatury polskiej XX wieku, eds. Alina Brodzka et al., Wrocław 1992, 49. 32 See Maria Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, “Przełomowe znaczenie literatury Młodej Polski,” in Muzyka polska a modernizm, ed. J. Ilnicka, Kraków 1981, 17. Musical titles of literary works appeared already in Romanticism, e.g. Śpiew [Singing] by S. Garczyński, For Author use only 58 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland Another strategy of connoting musical meanings consisted in weaving certain words into the literary texts –​ones associated with singing, dancing, or playing instruments.33 This is usually a kind of “thought orchestration” that bases on the meaning of words, not on their sound (with the exception of using foreign musicological terms, usually Italian). Young Poland poetry abounds in such cases, one of the most prominent being the above-​mentioned text by Rolicz-​Lieder titled “Gdy dzwonki szwajcarskie symfonię grają: Oremus!” Consider the following passage from it: We wszechświecie gędźba ogromna: Pierwsze skrzypce –​pociągły wiew wiatru. Kontrabasy –​bieg rwących potoków. Wiolonczele –​myśli i serce moje. Flet i klarynety –​głos dzieci daleki. Tamburina –​dzwonki krów szwajcarskich. Trąbka chromatyczna –​jodler pasterzowy. Organy –​kaskad dalekich dudnienie. Viole d’amour –​metaliczne drzew szemranie. Vox humana –​słyszę głos mojej kochanki… Vox humana –​Natura cała, Natura! –​ Hosanna! [Immense music of the universe First violins –​the breath of wind. Double-​basses –​the rushing streams. Cellos –​my thoughts and heart. Flutes and clarinets –​the distant voices of children. Tamburins –​bells of Swiss cows. Trumpets –​shepherds yodelling. Organs –​cascades rumbling far away. Viole d’amour –​metallic whisper of trees. Vox humana –​I hear my lover’s voice… Vox humana –​Nature, Nature itself! –​ Hosannah!] (PMP 165–​166)34 Piosnki sielskie [Pastoral songs] by S. Witwicki, Kolęda [Carol] by T. Zan, Mazur [Mazurka] by M. Gosławski, Chorał i Kołysanka [Choral and Lullaby] by K. Ujejski (Tomaszewski, Muzyka i literatura, 581). Young Poland developed this tradition. The “musicological” titles are also discussed (with doubts concerning the possibility to replicate musical compositional principles in literature) in Głowiński, Literackość muzyki, 202–​3. 33 For a discussion of the role of the dance theme in symbolism see for example: Sobieska, Twórczość Leśmiana, 158–​60. 34 Lieder’s text can be linked to the ideas of René Ghil, who “basing on Rimbaud’s poem ‘Voyelles,’ develops a theory according to which each sound corresponds For Author use only “Musicality” and sound in Young Poland poetry 59 It is often the case that the ultimate goal of the musical mood is silence, articulated expressis verbis: A kiedy się gwiazdami zaświecą przestrzenie wiekuistego nieba i nieprzeniknione zejdzie na ziemię nocy zimowej milczenie: wówczas mi się wydaje … … że to jest dusz ludzkich, dawno niepamiętnych, dusz do szału zuchwałych, do szaleństwa smętnych, uroczysko grobowe, senne i milczące. [And when the eternal skies brighten up with stars and the impenetrable silence descends on earth on a winter’s night: it then seems to me … … that this is a dreamy and silent wilderness, tomb of human souls, long forgotten, daring and wistfully keen on lunacy.] (Kazimierz Przerwa-​Tetmajer, “Ciche, mistyczne Tatry” [The silent, mystical Tatras])35 Except for the meaning of particular lexemes, Young Poland lyricism paid attention to the sound structure in an attempt to “pamper hearing”36 and make words and sentences affect us with “sound itself, rhythm and colouring.”37 The tonal dimension would thus acquire autonomy, becoming –​at least to a certain degree –​ an independent means of setting the mood.38 As already mentioned, “musicality” 35 36 37 38 to an instrument, in turn connected certain emotional states” (Andrzej Goreń, “Symbolizm,” in Lektury i problemy, ed. J. Maciejewski, Warszawa 1976, 111; see also Józef Heistein, Wprowadzenie do literaturoznawstwa porównawczego. Literatura awangardowa w świetle badań porównawczych, Wrocław 1990, 140). Even in texts that strive for simplicity and are “reconciled with the world” words connoting musical meanings prove to be indispensable. See Jan Kasprowicz, Księga ubogich, Warszawa 1927, 17; Kazimierz Przerwa-​Tetmajer, “Pieśń o Jaśku zbójniku,” AlMP 299–​300. Kazimierz Przerwa-​Tetmajer, Poezje wybrane, ed. J. Krzyżanowski, Wrocław 1968, 244. Włodzimierz Zagórski, “Czym jest forma w poezji?,” (qtd. after Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 87; see also Jastrun, “Wstęp,” PMP xxii–​xxiii). Ignacy Matuszewski, Słowacki i nowa sztuka, Warszawa 1902, 259–​60; qtd. after Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 88. See Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 88; Głowiński, “Literatura a muzyka,” 549; Goreń, Symbolizm, 111. A specific additional organization of sound characterizes the period’s both Polish and European lyricism. A good example of instrumentation in French poetry is a passage from Verlaine: “Les sanglots longs For Author use only 60 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland understood as an atmospheric quality or semantic vagueness theoretically does not have to be realized by valorising sound. However, the dimension of musical meanings and larger organization of the sonic aspect of lyric poetry were in fact strongly correlated at the time. The atmospheric quality would be further amplified through various phonostylistic means.39 Symbolist poetry would often employ onomatopoeic devices. In Young Poland this would largely boil down to choosing words used rarely in everyday language, ones that would harmonize with the oneiric by way of their “poetic” or “lyric” character.40 However, it would not be exceptional to use onomatopoeic words that are more common. Notably, this poetry would not resort to “non-​verbal sound sequences,”41 i.e. onomatopoeias proper, sometimes defined as interjections imi­ tating sound and movement.42 These constructions –​including “crack,” “boom,” “whirr,” “beep,” “moo,” “meow” –​could be treated as naturalistically grasping 39 40 41 42 /​Des violons /​De l’automne /​Blessent mon coeur /​D’une langeur /​Monotone” [The long sobs /​Of violins /​Of autumn /​Wound my heart /​With a monotonous /​Languor]. English translation qtd. after https://​en.wikipe​dia.org/​wiki/​Chanso​n_​ d%27auto​mne (accessed 5 July 2021)]. Numerous instrumentation techniques (as well as attempts to construct the text like a musical piece) can be also found in the poetry of Russian symbolism. As Sobieska argues, “tying the word’s creative power with its sound has never been as radical or significant in scope” (Sobieska, Twórczość Leśmiana, 234). Musicality and instrumentation are clear in Ivanov’s poem “La luna somnambula:” “Spit neprobudno mir i lunnyy lovit son: /​Luna zovet; Lunu –​zovet Endymyon /​Vo sn’… Pust’ solovey odin poet, razluku: /​On nie razbudit char; on spit i vnemlet zvuku” (Vyacheslav I. Ivanov, Prozracznost /​Durchsichtigkeit, Nachdruk der Moskauer Ausgabe von 1904 mit einer Einleitung von J. Holthusen, München 1967, 71) [Selene calls us: Endymion screams in sleep. /​In unfinished sleep the world awaits the nightingale’s voice. /​Let the nightingale dream in leaves and sing the separation. /​Let the charm last: the song dissipates in dreams;” English translation after the Polish rendering by Jarosław Marek Rymkiewicz, Antologia nowoczesnej poezji rosyjskiej 1880–​1967, Vol. 1, eds. W. Dąbrowski, A. Mandalian, W. Woroszylski, Wrocław 1971, 146]. For more on the role of sound in Russian symbolism see also Sobieska, Twórczość Leśmiana, 111–​129; Krystyna Pomorska, “Literatura a teoria literatury (szkoły poetyckie a teoria literatury na początku XX wieku u Rosjan i Polaków),” in American Contributions to the Fifth International Congress of Slavists –​ Sofia 1963, The Hague [n.d.], 264–​70. See Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 51. See Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, Symbolizm i symbolika, 306. Lucylla Pszczołowska, “Jak się przekłada onomatopeje,” Teksty 6 (1975), 94; Mirosław Bańko, Słownik onomatopei, czyli wyrazów dźwięko-​i ruchonaśladowczych, Warszawa 2009, 159. Mirosław Bańko, Współczesny polski onomatopeikon. Ikoniczność w języku, Warszawa 2008, 40–​53. For Author use only “Musicality” and sound in Young Poland poetry 61 and rendering moments when “something happens.” However, such “quotations from life” are not aesthetically neutral. Their proximity to artistically (and grammatically)43 unrefined experience of the everyday can be sometimes seen as anti-aesthetic and anti-​ artistic.44 Onomatopoeias being regular words of a language (separate and entering syntactical relations) –​including verbs, nouns and adjectives (“to moan,” “to murmur,” “a drum,” “clattering,” “rustling”) –​would be regarded as more conventional, despite their etymological and sound-​related affinity with onomatopoeias proper. The readers’ perceptions of how close these structures are to extralinguistic phenomena may vary, which naturally changes the way in which one interprets the “musicality” of poems using onomatopoeic expressions. After all, we can note the difference between words like “crunch,” “creak,” “chirp,” “whistle” (ones featuring consonantal clusters that are difficult to articulate45 and clearly reproduce extralinguistic sounds) and ones like “echo,” “puff,” “blow,” “breathe,” “yawn” (which are easier to pronounce, but demand a degree of kinaesthetic articulation46 that often imitates movement) or words that merely suggest certain meanings with their sound and way of articulation (“blizzard,” “rhythm,” “brush”) and ones that are specifically synesthetic, conveying diverse meanings in phonic and articulatory terms (“dappled,” “flash”). In all these cases it remains clear that there is a connection between the onomatopoeia / iconic word and the extralinguistic, undermining de Saussure’s claim about the arbitrariness of the relationship between signifiant and signifié.47 Nevertheless, the various lexemes can have different musical potential depending on their meaning, 43 See Bańko, Współczesny polski onomatopeikon, 40. 44 Proper onomatopoeias were relatively rare in older poetry (especially high poetry). They can be found for example in texts by Rev. Józef Baka, in folk pieces (see for example “Kolenda 65” from the volume Pastorałki i kolendy w czasie świąt Bożego Narodzenia w domach śpiewane, Częstochowa 1898, 184 ff), and in works stylized as folk literature (e.g. “Terkotka” by Ujejski). One passage from Baka’s poem “Rycerzom uwaga” is: “Trąby ra! ra! /​A śmierć gra! gra! /​Kotły bum! bum! /​Z domu rum! rum!” [Trumpets ra! ra! /​And death plays! plays! /​Drums boom! boom! /​From home out! out!] (Józef Baka, Poezje, eds. A. Czyż, A. Nawarecki, Warszawa 1986, 100). Proper onomatopoeias are not acknowledged at all by. Wóycicki, who broadly discusses onomatopoeic constructions in Polish literature (Kazimierz Wóycicki, Forma dźwiękowa prozy polskiej i wiersza polskiego, Warszawa 1960, 189–​204). 45 See the frequency list of sounds appearing in Polish onomatopoeias in Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 28. 46 Cf. Tamara Brzostowska-​Tereszkiewicz, “Kinestezja artykulacyjna,” http://​www.​ sensualnosc.bn.org.pl/​pl/​artic​les/​kin​este​zja-​artyku​lacy​jna-​66/​ (accessed 19 March 2017). 47 See the remarks made by Skwarczyńska on untypical “quasi-​onomatopoeias,” and Fónagy’s notes on the relationship between modes of articulation, “mouth gymnastics” and sound symbolism, in Stefania Skwarczyńska, Wstęp do nauki o literaturze, Vol. 2, part 4: Tworzywo językowe dzieła literackiego, Warszawa 1954, 181; Ivan Fónagy, “Język poetycki –​forma i funkcja,” trans. J. Lalewicz, Pamiętnik Literacki 2 (1972), 223–​49. See also Brzostowska-​Tereszkiewicz, “Kinestezja artykulacyjna.” For Author use only 62 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland phonetic structure –​especially consonantal clusters –​and the degree of onomatopoeic character. Poets writing at the turn of the centuries would not risk de-​poetizing their works, employing only conventional onomatopoeic expressions, both ones regarded as lyrical and more common ones (though avoiding radically colloquial language). The specificity of Young Poland’s imitation of extralinguistic sounds would affect both the sound and meaning of poems. Consider the following passages from texts using onomatopoeic expressions that are poetic (Leopold Staff) and colloquial48 (Stanisław Wyspiański): Szum twych szat, w którym szeptał szmer całunków słodki, Owiewał cię, jak brzękiem pszczoły brzęczyzłotki Ścigające wieśniaczkę biegnącą wśród uli; [The swoosh of your robes, in which the sweet murmur of kisses would whisper, Blowing gently around you, like buzzing golden bees Chasing a peasant girl running among beehives] (Leopold Staff, “Hora tańcząca” [Hora dancing], PMP 315, emphasis added) Niech dzwon nad trumną mi nie kracze ni śpiewy wrzeszczą czyje; niech deszcz na pogrzeb mój zapłacze i wicher niech zawyje [Let no bell crow over my coffin It is worth adding, after Pszczołowska, that onomatopoeic words are “perceived … usually in relation to [their] meaning.” To support her thesis, she recalls two lexemes that are similar in sound: “grom” [thunder] and “groch” [pea], indicating that only the former is perceived as onomatopoeic. This is naturally rooted in semantics. A given group of sounds can be associated with entirely different natural sounds, which is again related to meaning. Examples of this include the words “gruchotać” [shatter] and “gruchać” [coo] (Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 27). 48 Of interest are also the onomatopoeias developed by Leśmian, e.g. in phrases “[mak] Z wrzaskiem, który dla ucha nie był żadnym brzmieniem, /​Przekrwawił się w koguta;” “[jęczmień] Nasrożył nagle złością zjątrzone ościory /​I w złotego się jeża przemiażdżył ze chrzęstem” (from the poem “Przemiany,” PMP 345). An example of onomatopoeias that are far from lyrical poetic phrases are words “syczeć” [hiss] and “charkot” [wheezing] (from the poem “Hefajstos” by Rolicz-​Lieder, in Wybór poezji, ed. M. Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, Kraków 1962, 65), phrases “jęcały Tatry” [the Tatras were groaning] and “skrzypi siubienica” [the gallows is creaking] from “Pieśń o Jaśku zbójniku” by Przerwa-​Tetmajer (AlMP 299), or the phrase “skrzypce skowyczą” [the violin is howling] from Dziekoński’s 1908 poem “Taniec Salome” (Albin Dziekoński, Rzeczy podejrzane, Warszawa 1936, 59). For Author use only “Musicality” and sound in Young Poland poetry 63 or songs scream; let the rain cry at my funeral and the wind howl] (Stanisław Wyspiański, “[Niech nikt nad grobem mi nie płacze]” [Let no one cry over my grave], PMP 125, emphasis added) Many Young Poland poems, including the above one by Staff, also employ alliteration. Alliteration, consonance and assonance49 are devices that perfectly match symbolist atmosphericity50 and often contribute to it. Indeed, as the poem by 49 This monograph (its English version) adopts a clear, although slightly simplifying, distinction between the terms “alliteration,” “consonance” and “assonance.” This is necessitated by the use of English terms for literary devices in the context of poets writing in other languages and representing different literary traditions, especially in terms of versification. Alliteration is thus understood here as repetition of the same sounds (consonants or vowels) at the beginning of words. Consonance, in turn, involves repetition of consonants in non-​initial positions within words, whereas assonance is seen (or heard) as repetition of the same vowels in the middle or at the end of words. I claim that certain repetitions of sounds may be close to alliteration, assonance or consonance if they share the place and/​or mode of articulation (sound correspondences marked in poems sometimes take into account such patterns, e.g. sequences of fricatives: “s,” “ś,” “š,” “ž”). Not all of the vowels distinguished in the poems are equally important. Their distinctiveness is determined, among other things, by patterns of accents: assonance is most clear when the sounds in question are in the accented position in words. In Polish texts high significance is achieved by operations on both consonants and vowels, but the former clearly dominate. This is connected with the Polish language’s phonotactic structure (complex consonant system). After all, the French language, in which vowels are more frequent, offers more possibilities of developing assonance. In Russian poetry, in turn, this question is similar to the Polish situation, due to phonotactic similarities between Slavic languages. I do not consider in detail all sound patterns that appear in the discussed texts, sometimes only marking sound correspondences. 50 One naturally needs to remember that repetitions of sound occur from time to time, even in the most common enunciations. As Pszczołowska notes, “in every Polish prose text from every stage of the history of the Polish language we sometimes encounter (on average once in forty words) two consecutive words with the same consonant in the onset. Although it is much rarer, in longer texts we even encounter (once in 150–​200 words) situations where three consecutive words alliterate” (Lucylla Pszczołowska, “Instrumentacja dźwiękowa tekstów literackich,” in Z zagadnień języka artystycznego, eds. J. Bubak, A. Wilkoń, Warszawa 1977, 81; see also Lucylla Pszczołowska, “Metafory dźwiękowe w poezji i ich motywacja,” in Tekst i język. Problemy semantyczne, ed. M. R. Mayenowa, Wrocław 1974, 169–​70). In the case of discussed works, repetition of sounds has an aesthetic function, and although they are not always as spectacular as initial alliteration, they are frequent and quite distinct. For Author use only 64 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland Wyspiański shows, we may observe harmonization of sound through the use of anaphora and frequent post-​anaphoric parallelism of poetic lines. Jan Błoński argues that “musical poets are haunted by few words but ones that recur persistently.”51 Young Poland lyricism often features repetition of single words, which often contributed to multiplication of rhymes (internal and tautological ones). From the perspective of construction, one of the dominant aspects in many of these texts is repetition: lexical, polyptotons and more rarely –​ (pseudo)etymological figures. Consider the following example: Dzwonią dzwonki u sanek, ale jakże dzwonią! Jako śmiechy dziewczęcia, tak dzwonią bez troski. Dzwonią srebrem i złotem, i jeszcze tak dzwonią, Jako wiersz pozbawiony rumotnej spółgłoski. [Sleigh bells ring, but how! Like girls laughing, without worry, is how they ring. They ring with silver and gold, too, and ring. Like a poem without a single jarring consonant.] (Wacław Rolicz-​Lieder, “W Wigilię Bożego Narodzenia” [On Christmas Eve])52 The atmospheric “musicality” of Young Poland would thus entail usage of traditional sound devices53 such as alliteration, assonance, consonance, onomatopoeia, anaphora and repetition. However, there is also another crucial aspect of poetic language: numerous, tonally distinctive proper names and words of foreign origin, often ones related to the Orient54 which fascinated many authors of the period. They appear unusual insofar as they differ from Polish lexemes used in everyday speech. Exoticisms of this kind include for example: “Avicenna,” “Mary of Magdala,” “the comet Enke” (Miciński, Emir Rzewuski); “Adonai,” “Cain,” “Andromeda,” “Jerusalem,” “Berenice,” “Simoom,” “Gomorrah,” “Golconda,” “Orion,” “Balthasar,” “Upharisim” (Miciński, Czarne Xięstwo [Black kingdom]); “Zend-​ Avesta,” “Rizpah” (Antoni 51 Błoński, “Ut musica poësis?,” 116. 52 Rolicz-​Lieder, Wybór poezji, 179; another interesting example from his work is the onomatopoeic, alliterative, paronymic stanza from the poem “Dźwięczyk” [Sounder]: “Szemrajcie –​o! –​szemrajcie, morza fale szmerne, /​O ciszy dna morskiego, grobowej rywalce! /​Wód walce pomarszczone zwijając na walce, /​ Szemrajcie –​o! –​szemrajcie, morza fale szmerne!” [Murmur, O! Murmur, murmuring sea waves, /​O, the silence of the sea bed, grave-​like rival! /​Rolling creased cylinders of water, /​Murmur, O! murmur, murmuring sea waves] (86). 53 See Jastrun, “Wstęp,” PMP XXIII-​XXIV. Sound devices not connected with the devel­ opment of a musical mood are virtually not found here. 54 See Erazm Kuźma, “Topika pozaeuropejskich kręgów kultury,” in Słownik literatury polskiej XX wieku, 1115; Erazm Kuźma, “Mit Orientu w polskim ekspresjonizmie,” in Mit Orientu i kultury Zachodu w literaturze XIX i XX wieku, Szczecin 1980, 207–​29. For Author use only “Musicality” and sound in Young Poland poetry 65 Lange, “Rym” [Rhyme]). A significant role in making lyrics more musical is also played by highly characteristic words of Polish origin (archaisms or neologisms stylized as such)55 or borrowings that have already become part of Polish yet remain rare and carry meanings far removed from everyday life. Consider the following examples from Young Poland poems:56 “odmęt” [abyss], “lazur” [azure], 55 See Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, “Symbolizm i symbolika,” 302–​304; Kluba, “Symbolizm w Polsce. Rekonesans,” 51–​2; Juliusz W. Gomulicki, “Wstęp,” in Wacław Rolicz-​ Lieder, Poezje wybrane Warszawa 1960, 10–​12. 56 My understanding of “poeticism” [highly poetic phrase] follows Teresa Kostkiewiczowa, who defines it as a “word, phrase or collocation whose appearance in a given socio-​literary situation constitutes a conventionalized signal of the specific poetic character of the enunciation, one that is not found in other functional styles or everyday speech. … Words becomes poeticisms within a specific artistic style (e.g. Romantic, Young Poland), which are thus highlighted in all stylizations or parodies referring to this style” (Teresa Kostkiewiczowa, “Poetyzm I,” in Słownik terminów literackich, 402). Words I consider to be Young Poland poeticisms function probably in the artistic style (few of them can be found for example in press articles from the period). Moreover, as I shall demonstrate further in this chapter (and as is aptly suggested in the definition coined by Kostkiewiczowa), in the interwar period they would become vital components of literary polemics with the previous epoch. In “Błagania,” Tuwim complains about the overusing of words such as “kwef,” “smęt,” “kruż,” and “chram” (Julian Tuwim, Jarmark rymów, ed. J. Stradecki, Warszawa 1991, 12). The parodistic potential of grouping such lexemes was recognized already at the turn of the century. Consider the barely translatable “excellent parody of the style found in Chimera given by Nowaczyński in ‘Facecje sowizdrzalskie’ (1903)” (Józef Paszek, Tekst i styl “Popiołów,” Wrocław 1992, 78–​ 9): “Kiedy zawory słonecznego chramu /​Pchnę, wraz śrężoga buchnie świateł biała /​Na kruże kwiecia i łagwie lubystek, /​Skwitłych na rżyskach w kształt dziwnego tramu. /​Żertwą promiennych trut już okwiat wszystek /​Pada, rokicin i ostrożek ciała. /​… /​… A w dalach przed słońca /​Żagwią pierzchają w korablach chmur runy /​Mistycznych, nikną w nadirze bez końca. /​W jasną paździerz padają z brzękiem słońca struny /​W arabeski związując echa kanzoniczne. Cisza” (qtd. after Paszek, Tekst i styl, 79; see also Aleksander Wat, Dziennik bez samogłosek, ed. K. Rutkowski, Warszawa 1990, 57). In fact, Young Poland writers would use self-​parody (see Adam Pomorski, “Zaokrąglam horyzont,” in Leopold Staff, Nie ostrugujcie ryby z oceanu! Wiersze i poematy, Warszawa 2002, 18 ff). we should quote in this context a passage from Staff’s “Sonet (Z teki dekadenta)” –​the poet’s first published text (1899). This grotesque parody utilizes extremely “dense” (i.e., highly frequent) synaesthetsia and onomatopoeia: “Na fioletowy dach mej duszy /​Fortepianowe kapią wonie. /​ Ich szpada smutne światło kruszy, /​Które w latarni kwietnej płonie. //​Hipopotamy żalu kroczą /​Po menażerii mych rozpaczy, /​Wyjące osty mózg mój tłoczą /​Rycząc dźwiękami stu kartaczy” [To the purple roof of my soul /​Drop the scents of the piano. /​Their spade shatters the sad light, /​Which glows in the flower lantern. //​ Hippopotami of sorrow pace /​Through menagerie of my despair, /​Wailing thistles stamp my brain /​Roaring with sound of hundred canon shells] (Staff, Nie ostrugujcie ryby z oceanu, 41). For Author use only 66 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland “eter” [ether], “kamelia” [camellia], “kurhan” [kurgan], “osmętnica” [mourner], “sarkofag” [sarcophagus], “wężowisko” [nest of snakes], “tęsknica” [yearner], “przedwiecze” [ancientness].57 Words of this kind contain consonantal clusters rarely seen in Polish (e.g. in borrowings like “sarkofag” or “kurhan”); many of these lexemes also display assonance (“przedwiecze,” “eter,” “kamelie”). Usage of such words –​especially if they occur in large numbers –​clearly affects the sound texture of the poems. The focus here is on issues of irregular instrumentation, but we should not disregard the question of regular phonic structures. The turn of the centuries was a time marked by hitherto unseen coexistence of verse systems (numerical: syllabic, syllabotonic, the nascent tonic versification and free verse, which broke all rules of numerical equivalence). However, a special role in contributing to the “musicality” of poetry should not be ascribed to tonic versification and vers libre, which developed towards the end of the nineteenth century (although they were important factors leading to the revolution of musical systems)58 but rather to traditional, regular structures based on various parallelisms (repetition of stanzas, refrains or lines). Lucylla Pszczołowska offers the following insight about the versification used in Young Poland poetry: Regular verse structure, which was still frequent, plays a fundamental role –​aside from rhythm and other forms of orchestration –​in the process of lending a melodic character to poems among Young Poland writers and setting a certain mood. It facilitated repetition of lines or parts of lines, recurrence of assonances and utilization of the synesthetic potential inherent in tonic versification; in short, it allowed one to model a poem on musical compositions, entailing partial de-​ semantization of phrases.59 One important aspect of this was the use of regular, precise rhymes. Irregular and composite ones were rare60 (which is especially important from the perspective of 57 See Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, Symbolizm i symbolika, 303–​4. 58 See Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, Symbolizm i symbolika, 317. 59 L. Pszczołowska, Wiersz polski. Zarys historyczny, Wrocław 1997, 274; emphasis added. See also T. Czyżewski, Poezja ekspresjonistów i futurystów, Czyż., Pipd 35. 60 Pszczołowska writes as follows on Young Poland rhymes: “Rhymes are in principle precise in the phonetic aspect, even more so than in the previous period (hence, for example, the great rarity of composite rhymes). Moreover, there is avoidance of ending the line with a closed syllable, i.e. one concluding with a consonant, which disturbs the melodiousness of harmonies. The aspiration to melodiousness can be sometimes also the motivation behind the occurence of … grammatical rhymes, even ones involving affixes, although it would be then already long considered inept. Another frequently used means of lending poems greater “musicality” was repeating rhymes in various ways: multiple rhymes built around the same sound pattern, internal rhymes, tautological rhymes, rhymes linking the end of one line and the beginning of another, etc. And finally –​repeating entire rhyming words, as well as entire lines or rhyming couplets … and various refrains” (Pszczołowska, For Author use only “Musicality” and sound in Young Poland poetry 67 studies analysing the sound texture of Futurist poems, in which rhyme would often become a multi-​purpose device of irregular instrumentation). The final issue is the relationship between Young Poland “ludomania” [peasant-​ mania] and the development of the poem’s sonic dimension. Surprisingly, the fascination with folklore had only a limited impact on the sound of the period’s poetry. In Young Poland lyrics, repetitions and refrains have little in common with the parallelisms encountered in folk poetry.61 In many Young Poland texts, line equivalence and refrains are largely unpredictable and asymmetrical (e.g. in “Gdy dzwonki szwajcarskie” by Rolicz-​Lieder),62 although regular refrains would naturally occur, constituting textual axioms (e.g. in “Anioł Pański” [Angelus] by Przerwa-​Tetmajer, or in “Deszcz jesienny” [Autumn rain] by Staff).63 The structure of echoing phrases, lines and stanzas fundamentally differs from seemingly analogous devices found in folk texts, lacking in the typically folkloric dynamic introduced by short, self-​contained line parts interwoven with interjections. There are no glossolalias or echolalias typical of folk songs and we may observe important semantic differences (the ambiguous and vague “musicality” is alien to most types of peasant poetry).64 As Podraza-​Kwiatkowska notes, Young Poland lyricism “basi­ cally transmutes … the refrain characteristic for certain kinds of positivist lyricism. It is no longer a song-​like refrain straight out of folk tradition, but a leitmotif –​ a recurring musical theme modelled on classical music.”65 Parallelisms, which are specific to Young Poland, would dovetail with the use of intricate stanzaic forms –​ such as cantilena, rondo, or pantun66 –​which greatly deviate from the principle of 61 62 63 64 65 66 Wiersz polski, 295; emphasis added). Irregular and difficult rhymes were very rare. This does not surprise since the authors would aim to develop a prolix, atmospheric “musicality” (296). Although propositions were made to replace precise rhymes with assonance (Lange and Porębowicz), this idea remained (for reasons similar to those behind difficult rhymes) only a marginal experiment (297). Before embarking on comparative analysis of Futurist works it also needs to be recalled that “rhyme, even irregular (yet deprived of support in rhythmically equivalent verse structures) cannot play a rhythmic function in itself.” Moreover, “in case of lines that are unpredictable in terms of sequencing and length, unexpected rhyming patterns become identifiable only ex post” (Aleksandra Okopień-​Sławińska, “Pomysły do teorii wiersza współczesnego (Na przykładzie poezji Przybosia),” in Styl i kompozycja, ed. J. Trzynadlowski, Wrocław 1965, 182–​3). The first section of Chapter Four broadly discusses compositional principles of folk works. See Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, Symbolizm i symbolika, 317 ff. See Jan Z. Jakubowski, “Wstęp,” in Kazimierz Przerwa-​Tetmajer, Poezje, Warszawa 1974, 9–​10. It can be encountered at best in relatively few love songs, but even in these cases the account of emotions is usually based on recalling various specific aspects of life. Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, Symbolizm i symbolika, 317–​8. Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, Symbolizm i symbolika, 318. For Author use only 68 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland simple, clear repetitiveness. Therefore, the melodiousness of folk poetry was not connected with the “musicality” of Young Poland lyricism.67 Strictly folk-​like literary patterns were relatively rare among Young Poland poets and would be usually used as a means of stylization.68 They would usually make use of isolated themes (landscape, domestic appliances, crops, or regionalisms), weaving them into poems written in the high register. Some of the leading poets of this formation provide numerous examples of this practice. In sonnets written by Kasprowicz as part of the cycle Z chałupy [From a peasant cottage], the language –​although far from typically fin-​de-​siècle decorativeness (some passages are stylized as peasant conversation) –​has little in common with the conventions of folk poetry.69 Further appearances of rustic themes that are far from folk artistry can be traced in other works by Kasprowicz, including “W chałupie” [In a peasant cottage] “Słyszałem głośny płacz ludzi” [I heard people cry loudly] and “Szły zbierać kłosy” [They went to collect ears of grain]. Moreover, Tetmajer eagerly employed themes derived from folklore and used regionalisms to stylize his text, but he would usually not allude to sonically distinctive folk poetry with its parallelisms and frequent regular repetitions (e.g. “Śmierć Janosika,” “List Hanusi,” “List drugi Hanusi,” “Ostatni list Hanusi” [The death of Janosik; Hanusia’s letters]). A significant role in developing musical poetic compositions in the period was played by syntax. Most sentences in these poems are simple (with a developed subject or predicate), or complex,70 incorporated into regular, syllabic, syllabotonic 67 For a discussion of differences between “musicality” and “melodiousness,” see Głowiński, “Literackość muzyki,” 202. 68 For example, in the poem “Czardasz” [Czardas] by Tetmajer there is a fragmented passage that recurs several times: “Hej, czardasza ty mi graj /​cygańska muzyko! /​Huczcie basy, gęślo łkaj, /​a szumnie, a dziko… /​Ile smutku w duszy mej, /​tyle w gęśle twoje wlej, /​hej, czardasza graj mi, hej, /​cyganie-​góralu!” [Hey, play me a czardas /​you, gipsy music! /​Let the bass boom and the fiddle cry, /​flow high and wild… /​All the sadness of my soul, /​pour into your playing bow, /​hey, play me a czardas, hey, /​you, gypsy-​highlander!…] (Przerwa-​Tetmajer, Poezje wybrane, 123–​4). Another folk-​song stylization is “Dawna nuta” [Old tune] by Przerwa-​ Tetmajer (with the interjection “ej” and parallel stanzas). Anaphoric repetitions (and post-​anaphoric parallelism) as well as interjections of clearly folk origin appear in several other Young Poland texts (among other texts, in “Marsz zbójecki ze Skalnego Podhala,” “Ballada o Janosiku i Szalamonównie Jadwidze” and “Ballada o Janosikowej śmierci” by Przerwa-​Tetmajer, “Pieśń o Waligórze,” “Pieśni o pani, co zabiła pana” by Kasprowicz). 69 Cf. the first section of Chapter Four. 70 Naturally, with the exception of works that could be called grotesque, or –​less pre­ cisely –​frivolous. Consider the poem “[Do Michała Pawlikowskiego]” [To Michał Pawlikowki] by Leopold Staff and Jan Strzemię (Ludwik Maria Staff): “Lwów. W karnawale. /​Panie Michale! /​/​Ku sztuki chwale /​W “Lamusa” sale /​W oryginale /​Wziąłeś w zapale /​Prozę w krysztale, /​Wiersze na cale, /​Stworzone w cwale /​ Pegaza. –​Ale /​Możliwe wcale, /​Że Cię rozżalę: /​Sięgamy stale /​Po te med(t)ale, /​ For Author use only “Musicality” and sound in Young Poland poetry 69 verse structures, or the less phonically distinct yet still tonic ones.71 Line breaks do not clash with syntax, thus not increasing the number of intonemes. Intonational structures can be complicated by the use of devices preventing repetitiveness such as interjections or punctuation marks (suspension points, dashes). Still, these are mainly long, complex, usually regular structures in terms of versification. Syntactic distortions that depart from everyday speech include excessive inversion and syntactic secession.72 Basic characteristics of the last element include attributes or adverbials, subordinate clauses performing these functions, as well as elaborate and ornamental compound sentences. Thanks to such syntactic solutions, Young Poland texts are often regarded as prolix and fluid yet relatively static, which in combination with the above-​mentioned instrumentation clearly underlines the desired musical vagueness. Czesław Zgorzelski observes: Where else but in lyricism should we seek the affinity between the two sister arts: poetry and music? Abandoning the ties of storytelling, subordinating representation to communication of emotions and primarily ascribing a bigger role to sound elements as a means of poetic expression –​all of these make lyric poetry appear closest to music among all forms of literature.73 Tadeusz Makowiecki lists five areas of factors that tie literature with music:74 – acoustic elements in literature (rhythm, intonation, rhyme, alliteration, onomatopoeia, etc.), 71 72 73 74 Które wspaniale /​/​Wieńczą Dedale /​Po twórczym szale, /​Jako finale. –​/​W uczuć nawale, /​W pozdrowień strzale /​Cześć ślemy w dale /​Ku cnót Twych skale. /​Górą Górale!” [Lvov. It’s carnival. /​Mister Michał! //​In praise of art /​In “Lamus” rooms /​In original /​In frenzy you’ve taken /​Prose in a crystal, /​Poems by the inch, /​ Created by a galloping /​Pegasus. –​But /​It’s possible /​That I will make you miserable: /​We keep reaching out /​For these metd(t)als, /​Which beautifully adorn /​ Dedaluses /​After creative frenzy, /​As a final. –​/​Overwhelmed by emotions, /​In the arrow of greetings /​We send respect /​To the rock of your virtue. /​Long live the highlanders!] (Staff, Nie ostrugujcie ryby z oceanu, 97–​8). Free verse often disrupts syntactic and intonational fluency. For a discussion of Art Nouveau and literature, see Beata Śniecikowska, “Wspólny język czy wieża Babel? –​o terminach współistniejących w literaturoznawstwie i historii sztuki,” in Literatura i wiedza, eds. W. Bolecki, E. Dąbrowska, Warszawa 2006, 446–​9. Zgorzelski, “Elementy ‘muzyczności’ w poezji lirycznej,” 57. Qtd. after Tadeusz Makowiecki, Muzyka w twórczości Wyspiańskiego, 1–​29 (the passage in question is titled “Poezja a muzyka”). A more detailed description of possible ties between literature and music is provided in Hejmej, Muzyczność dzieła literackiego, 43–​70. An even broader account, which includes opera librettos or so-​called sung poetry, is offered by Głowiński in the entry “Literatura a muzyka,” Słownik literatury polskiej XX wieku, 548–​9. For Author use only 70 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland – content-​related elements connected with specific musical compositions, – ways of conveying the message (vagueness of content and imagery), – compositional factors (variations on themes, leitmotifs, overture prefiguration, etc.), – subject matter. Seeking the possibility to bring literature and music closer, Young Poland poets would emphasize all of these characteristics, developing an original, relatively coherent and easily recognizable sound aesthetic. Crucial attempts to make literature more musical are related to the following aspects: – the fundamental semantic indicator of “musicality”: the nebulous character of meanings and the mysteriousness of the setting, – use of words connoting sound-​related meanings: musicological terms (names of compositions, instruments, dances, etc.) and other words associated with music, – repetition of words, phrases and lines, – anaphora, – alliteration, assonance, consonance, – onomatopoeia, – use of phonically distinct Polish words (sometimes archaisms or words stylized as such), ones rarely encountered in everyday language, and frequent appearance of poeticisms, – use of barbarisms and borrowings, often proper names, which are highly characteristic in terms of sound, – use of parallel, refrain-​like structures organizing the sound dimension of the poem (usually realized in numerical systems of versification), – attempts to reproduce structures of musical compositions in texts. Naturally, not all of the above devices are directly connected with the instrumentation analysed in this study. However, any description of Young Poland “musicality” that does not account for semantic vagueness or versification systems in the background of irregular instrumentation would be unjustifiably incomplete. However, in what follows these issues are invoked only contextually, although this is certainly a significant context. The sum of the above means could be called Young Poland poetics or –​more broadly –​a sound-​based aesthetics. The scope of this term, however, does not coincide with what the poets themselves would regard as the “musicality” of literary works. They would primarily associate it with semantic vagueness, which the above means would invariably supplement without being mentioned in meta-​artistic statements. Employing terms developed by Andrzej Hejmej75 one can argue that, in Young Poland poetry, “type II musicality” (thematising music) implied “type I musicality” (instrumentation), sometimes also entailing “type III 75 Hejmej, Muzyczność dzieła literackiego, 53–​67 ff. Cf. also 47–​48 in this book. For Author use only “Musicality” and sound in Young Poland poetry 71 musicality” (attempts to model literary works on musical compositions). Naturally, “type I musicality” would occur without semantic references to music (“type II musicality”), but “type III musicality” would always entail thematising music, conditioning –​as it were –​the recognition of compositions referring to structures from another art (instrumentation was not an equally important condition, although it usually accompanied works representing “type III musicality”). Finally, I must make one caveat. The approach described here characterizes the literary mainstream or rather the mainstream of Young Poland poetry (e.g. poems regarded as symbolist, impressionist and to a large extent expressionist). The situation is different with regard to the grotesque76 and the rich cabaret tradition, which is naturally far from the mainstream of Young Poland lyricism understood in the typically nineteenth-​century sense as the “language of emotion.” Young Poland prose, however, certainly does not boil down to Lemański,77 Nowaczyński or Strug. Along with instrumentation, “musicality” constitutes a crucial component of prose poems written by Tadeusz Miciński78 and Stanisław Przybyszewski.79 Another 76 See e.g.: Pomorski, “Zaokrąglam horyzont,” 16 ff. Cf. the passages, quoted at the end of Chapter Three, from texts by Lemański, Nowaczyński and Faleński. 77 Lemański is also the author of grotesque poetry, far from symbolist euphony (see e.g.: Jan Lemański, Czyn. Poezje, satyry, piosenki, Lwów 1911; see also Aleksander Nawarecki, Czarny karnawał. “Uwagi śmierci nie-​chybnej” księdza Baki –​poetyka tekstu i paradoksy recepcji, Wrocław 1991). 78 Consider the passage from Miciński’s “Niedokonany. Kuszenie Chrystusa Pana na pustyni. Poemat” [The Undone: Temptation of the Lord Christ on the Desert]: “α 1. Słowa moje rozsypuję jako piasek morski między palcami –​kto z szelestu ich pozna głębiny? 2. Złoty zapach róż i anemonów upaja mię –​gwiaździste oczy Szatanów przeświecają mnie na wskroś –​ale ciemne Jutrznie jestestwa mego błądzą wśród ciemnej nocy. … δ … 7. Ciszą jestem pełną niewiadomych jęków, milczeniem nad wulkanami, które płoną w ciemnościach. … η … 5. … harfa moja drga upojeniem i pieśń jak morze rzuca się̨ piersiami ku mnie, niosąc mi klejnoty głębin: miriady fal Oceanu tańczą przede mną, a ten Ocean jest z jęków” [α 1. Words spill between my fingers like sea sand –​who will fathom depths in their rustle? 2. The golden scent of roses and anemones intoxicates me –​Satan’s starry eyes shine right through me –​ but the dark Matins of my existence wander in the dark of the night. … δ … 7. I am a silence ripe with unknown fears, silence over volcanoes that burn in darkness. … η … 5. … my harp trembles in ecstasy and the song flings itself with its breast right at me like sea, bringing me underwater treasures: myriads of the Ocean’s waves are dancing before me, and this Ocean is of moans] (Tadeusz Miciński, Poematy prozą, ed. W. Gutowski, Kraków 1985, 73–​79). This passage contains basically all hallmarks of Young Poland “musicality” described above. Apart from a nebulous atmosphericity they include synaesthesia, lexical repetition, onomatopoeia, words with musical connotations and words alien to regular speech. 79 The “musicality” underscored through instrumentation can be also found in Przybyszewski, Requiem aeternam, in Przybyszewski, Wybór pism, 41, 43, 77: “Ale kocham, kocham zamarłą chuć, której resztki dusza ma strawia, kocham ostatnie For Author use only 72 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland great example of valorising sound is the oeuvre of Wacław Berent, in whose novels we may discern both numerous terms from the domain of music, names of musical instruments, clear allusions to musical structures and many euphonic elements.80 Orchestration-​related devices also play a crucial role in works by Karol Irzykowski and Stefan Żeromski.81 Whereas in poetry one can speak of a broad musical ten­ dency encompassing most works written in the period, prose is far more varied in this respect. This diversity is confirmed, on the one hand, by the musical devices used by Berent or Żeromski, and on the other –​by the ludic orchestration in works by Lemański, Nowaczyński and Faleński.82 Achievements in prose also constitute an important context for the activity of poets in the interwar period. However, Young Poland lyricism remains a fundamental point of reference for this study –​ the immediate predecessor and “antagonist” of the Futurists. krople krwi mego istotnego bytu, w którym się istotność cała przejawia w całej swej potędze, swym majestacie i okrucieństwie; kocham tę odwieczną siłę, co moje wrażenia słuchowe zabarwia niepojętymi barwy, z wrażeń powonienia rozsnuwa rozkoszne obrazy, a z uczuć dotyku wytwarza niewypowiedziane rozkosze wizji. … Jestem królem asyryjskim z niebosięgną tiarą na głowie, strojny w bisior, brokat i purpurę.” [But I love, love the frozen lust as my soul digests its remnants, I love the last drops of blood from my vital existence, in which all essence is revealed in all its glory, majesty and cruelty; I love this eternal power which colours what I hear in indescribable hues, spins wondrous images with delicate scents, and makes touch create inexpressibly blissful visions. … I am an Assyrian king with a heaven-​ high tiara on my head, wearing byssus, brocade and purple.] “A pieśń rwała się dzikim rykiem, co serce wśród bolesnych drgań z ciała wyszarpywał, to znowu w bełkoczących jękach, co wszelkie słowo w krtani dławią, to znowu w stękach i rozpacznych krzykach, że żyły w mózgu pękały –​i pieśń przestała być pieśnią, stała się piekielnym pragnieniem życia” [The song rared with roars that would rip your heart from the agonized body, or with gobbledegook moans that would choke any word in the voice box, or with groans and desperate cries that would burst veins in your brain –​and then the song ceased to be a song, becoming a hell-​bent craving for life]. 80 The most spectacular example of instrumentation efforts in Berent’s prose is the novel Żywe kamienie, but they constitute an important aspect of poetics in his other works such as Nauczyciel, Fachowiec, Próchno, Ozimina. See Kierzek, Muzyka w “Żywych kamieniach;” Józef Paszek, “O ekspresji dźwiękowej ‘Żywych kamieni’,” in Styl powieści Wacława Berenta, Katowice 1976, 19–​37; Józef Paszek, “O wieloznaczności w Oziminie,” in Styl powieści Wacława Berenta, 42–​5. 81 See Józef Paszek, “Próchno –​ Popioły –​ Pałuba: paralela stylistyczna,” in Styl powieści Wacława Berenta, 113–​4; Józef Paszek, Tekst i styl, 36–​7, 82; see also Wacław Borowy, “Rytmika prozy Żeromskiego,” in O Żeromskim. Rozprawy i szkice, Warszawa 1960, 179–​228 (especially the section “Rytmika paralelizmów syntaktycznych,” 205–​19). 82 This problem is discussed more broadly in Chapter Three (285–​286, 332–​333, 379, 467 ff). For Author use only “Musicality” and sound in Young Poland poetry 73 The role of Young Poland poetry in literary history is summarized by critics as follows: It was … symbolism that discovered the self-​containedness of word as an object characterized by both sound and meaning. … Symbolism established the basis for a separate language of poetry and a separate poetic sense.83 The beginning of the [twentieth] century was –​not only around the world but also in Poland –​a time when language was discovered as the fundamental tool and universal medium of cultural activity, as well as a problem of steadily increasing (ultimately fundamental) significance for philosophical, anthropological and literary reflection.84 In order to avoid overgeneralizing, allow me to indicate that in the Polish context the “emancipation” of language in the Young Poland period did not go “beyond an initial stage, in contrast to French symbolism, which exceeded the Parnassian form of Baudelaire’s, Verlaine’s external music, Maeterlinck’s atmosphericity …, eventually undergoing a radical transformation in the poetry of Mallarmé.”85 Although symbolist patterns are often invoked above in discussion of Young Poland poetry, I must emphasize that they are derived primarily from Baudelaire and Verlaine (i.e. authors who were not symbolists per se). Polish symbolism –​emotive and not really characterized by deepened reflection –​has little in common with the French, autotelic “conceptual symbolism” of Mallarmé (with few exceptions, e.g. the late poetry of Bolesław Leśmian).86 Therefore, Young Poland made only the first doubtful steps towards the autonomization of poetic language, ones that were not fully self-​conscious. As is clearly demonstrated by the heterogenous Polish Futurism, authors from the interwar period went beyond the experimentation of their predecessors, turning 83 Bieńkowski, “Izmy tamtego dwudziestolecia,” 185–​6. 84 Ryszard Nycz, Język modernizmu. Prolegomena historycznoliterackie, Wrocław 1997, 45–​6. See also Kluba’s much more cautious claims in “Symbolizm w Polsce. Rekonesans,” 25 ff. See also Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, O muzycznej i nie muzycznej koncepcji poezji, 434; Bolecki, Modernizm w literaturze polskiej, 30–​1; Pomorska, Literatura a teoria literatury, 266. 85 Jastrun, “Wstęp,” PMP XXV-​XXVI; see also Kluba, “Symbolizm w Polsce. Rekonesans,” 42–​3; Sławiński’s review of Szkice literackie by Bolesław Leśmian, 218–​31. 86 See Kluba, “Symbolizm w Polsce. Rekonesans,” 17–​63. As Prokop argues, general­ izing slightly, “Young Poland … –​unlike Mallarmé and his circle –​did not appreciate the problematics of word. ‘The internal power with which artists recreate the states of the soul’ (Przybyszewski, Confiteor) would not meet with linguistic resistance, i.e. the resistance of language would not be recorded at all, and rather waved aside; instead, adjectives and superlatives would be multiplied and voice would be raised, shouting” (Prokop, “Młodopolska utopia pozakodowej komunikacji,” 108). See also Joanna Dembińska-​Pawelec, “Poezja jest sztuką rytmu.” O świadomości rytmu w poezji polskiej dwudziestego wieku (Miłosz –​Rymkiewicz –​Barańczak), Katowice 2010, 76–​79, 87–​90. For Author use only 74 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland towards language and deepening their reflection on it.87 Adam Ważyk observed that “later poets found the language of Young Poland weird and could not draw from it. It had to be circumvented.”88 However, this diagnosis of Polish interwar poetry is neither accurate nor complete because it does not help to account for the period’s most revolutionary Futurist poets like Jasieński, Wat, Czyżewski, Stern and Młodożeniec. What emerges as remarkable is the role of Young Poland poetics of sound, whose Futurist mutations are discussed further in this study. * Futurists attempted to break away from tradition in many ways, negating that which was accepted and sanctified in literary convention. These aspirations defined the Futurists’ relationship with the heritage of Young Poland. Jan Trzynadlowski argues that “Futurism primarily attacked the poetics and aesthetics of modernism [from the turn of the centuries], which it regarded as (to use a term developed by Janusz Sławiński) ‘the negative key tradition.’ ”89 To describe Futurist tactics, Małgorzata Baranowska employs even stronger words, writing that Futurists “slaughtered various poetic languages in their aggressive parodies and more or less open pastiches of Young Poland, as well as ideas that radically opposed it.”90 Nevertheless, Kazimierz Wyka notes that “echoes of Young Poland constantly return among the fierce innovators.”91 Although the tradition of literature at the turn of the centuries constitutes a clearly negative point of reference in programmatic texts of Polish Futurism,92 its 87 See Kluba’s remarks on works by Miciński, Rolicz-​Lieder and Leśmian (Kluba, “Symbolizm w Polsce. Rekonesans,” 36, 49–​63); see also Prokop, “Młodopolska utopia pozakodowej komunikacji.” 88 Ważyk, Dziwna historia awangardy, 8. 89 Jan Trzynadlowski, “Futuryzm polski,” in Futuryzm i jego warianty w literaturze europejskiej, ed. J. Heistein, Wrocław 1977, 99. See also Grzegorz Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, Wrocław 1974, 24; Andrzej K. Waśkiewicz, “Wstęp,” in Anatol Stern, Wiersze zebrane, Vol. 1, ed. A. K. Waśkiewicz, Kraków 1986, 6; Marian Rawiński, “U genezy wczesnej twórczości poetyckiej Brunona Jasieńskiego,” in O wzajemnych powiązaniach literackich polsko-​rosyjskich, eds. S. Fiszman, K. Sierocka, Wrocław 1969, 199, 201–​3. 90 Małgorzata Baranowska, “Trans czytającego młodzieńca wieku (Wat),” in Surrealna wyobraźnia i poezja, Warszawa 1984, 192. 91 Kazimierz Wyka, “Czyżewski –​poeta,” in Rzecz wyobraźni, Warszawa 1977, 17. See also Wat, Wspomnienia o polskim futuryzmie, 72. 92 The Futurists argued, “out of the muddy inn of eternity we sweep away the meagre hysterical creatures called poets, squashed by lack of satisfaction, pain, joy of life, ecstasy, aesthetics, inspiration, eternity. Instead of aesthetics –​anti-​grace. Instead of ecstasy –​intellect” (Anatol Stern, Aleksander Wat, “Prymitywiści do narodów świata i do Polski,” in Antologia polskiego futuryzmu i Nowej Sztuki, ed. H. Zaworska, Wrocław 1978, 5; emphasis preserved). “What is called here the era of symbolism, whose last representatives are Tuwim and his acolytes –​calling For Author use only Young Poland “musicality”: Continuations 75 artistic practice often reveals affinities with the former. Their works not only abound in characteristically symbolist themes but also employ almost all phonostylistic devices used by Young Poland writers to produce the effect of “musicality.” Echoes of styles rooted in tradition are perfectly audible in many Futurist texts, although they are invoked in varied ways.93 In the light of programmatic declarations, these references can sometimes feel like a surprising profession of faith entailing an almost uncritical embracing of techniques developed by Young Poland. Still, this does not mean that every allusion to the style of the predecessors constitutes a simple continuation of past poetics. It is often the case that these borrowed methods regarding the use of euphony and introduction of musical contexts are creatively developed. Finally, some texts parodistically polemicize with Young Poland. 2. Y  oung Poland “musicality”: Continuations Some poems by Polish Futurists fully embody key principles of Young Poland poetics. These works, written by self-​professed innovators, embrace the “musicality” in terms developed by their predecessors: derived from symbolism and driven by a nostalgia for the past. The affinity with Young Poland is perhaps least surprising in the case of Tytus Czyżewski, who was one generation older than his fellow Futurists. Little wonder then that, “brought up soaking in the Young Poland atmosphere in Kraków and the Paris avant-​garde, he had different artistic experiences.”94 A Futurist and a Formist –​who “contracted many a symbolist virus”95 –​he has sometimes come close in his poems to the atmosphere characteristic for the turn of the centuries.96 Consider the following passage from the poem “Strach” [Fear]: 93 94 95 96 themselves Futurists for some strange reason –​was the last reflection of the Romantic tail that had been dragged here for so many years like that of a sea snake. And then the time came for the nation to return to physiological life. … Death to Romanticism, symbolism and programmatism! Let the mechanical instinct thrive” (Tytus Czyżewski, “Pogrzeb romantyzmu –​uwiąd starczy symbolizmu –​ śmierć programizmu,” in Antologia polskiego futuryzmu, 39, 41; emphasis preserved). “Sentimental epigones of Romanticism and Symbolism are passing away and an era of new values begins, one free from naïve illustions of naturalism” (Tytus Czyżewski, “Od maszyny do zwierząt,” in “Pogrzeb romantyzmu,” 41. See also Tytus Czyżewski, Poezja ekspresjonistów i futurystów; “Pogrzeb romantyzmu,” 35–​6). See Bolecki, Modalność, 435. Alicja Baluch, “Wstęp,” in Tytus Czyżewski, Poezje i próby dramatyczne, Wrocław 1992, xxxii. Joanna Pollakówna, “Spełnienie dwoiste,” Poezja 1 (1969), 30. One needs to keep in mind that the author would include in his 1920s volumes poems written earlier in the pre-​Futurist phase, and it is not always possible to establish the exact dates of composition. Czyżewski included clearly Young Poland texts in the volumes Zielone oko and Noc –​Dzień, never really renouncing this poetics and also often linking it with the specific “costume of modernity.” I consider For Author use only 76 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland Odwieczny czarny staw Za dnia śpi –​wieczorem odsłania Tajemnice Najprzód toczą się po wodzie kręgi zielone Odchyla się liść łopianu Zapala się bladym światłem kwiat lilii wodnej Na wodzie toczą się bańki złote Lecą roje świecących chrząszczy Cisza Przeraźliwy krzyk Najady boginki rusałki dziwożony Ja chcę rozkoszy ja chcę rozkoszy * ** Dzwoni dzwon wieczorny Zagwizdał czarny kos To przed snem Ave Maria –​Ave Maria [The eternal black pond Asleep during day –​in the evening reveals Mysteries First, green circles roll across water A burdock leaf leans back A water lily lightens up, pale Golden bubbles roll across water Swarms of bright beetles fly Silence A terrible scream Naiads goddesses water nymphs mamunas I crave bliss I crave bliss * ** The evening bell tolls The blackbird whistled this to justify the presentation of these works in a study devoted to sound instrumentation in Futurist poetry (see also the poet’s remarks on the dating of certain works he later called Futurist: Tytus Czyżewski, “Mój futuryzm,” in Antologia polskiego futuryzmu, 45; see also 9–​13). For Author use only Young Poland “musicality”: Continuations 77 It is before sleep Ave Maria –​Ave Maria] (“Strach” [Fear], Czyż., Pipd 41) Apart from the sensual, vivid description of the pond and its vegetation (one can easily imagine an accompanying Art Nouveau illustration)97 the poem features clearly announced sound themes: screaming and tolling of the bell, birdsong and finally silence, which also constitutes a phonic signal, one that is frequently encountered in Young Poland lyrics. The text was sonically enhanced through repetition (“I crave bliss;” “Ave Maria;” also, the root “dzwon” [bell] is repeated twice as part of an etymological figure). The poem also features traditional onomatopoeias that are far from proper, naturalistic ones (“zagwizdał” [whistled], “dzwoni” [tolls]). Other poems by Czyżewski from the volume Zielone Oko [Green eye] can be analysed in this way: “Monolog błazna” [Fool’s monologue], “Wieczór letni” [Summer evening], “Cisza” [Silence], “Dzwon” [Bell], “Deszcz” [Rain], “Katedra” [Cathedral] and “Sen kwiatów” [Flowers’ dream]. It thus seems justified to argue, as Jan Józef Lipski does, that some of Czyżewski’s poems constitute “a surprisingly traditional echo of faded poetics.”98 Clear echoes of Young Poland phonostylistics can be also discerned in the poem “Deszcz” [Rain] by Bruno Jasieński: Motto: “Oh, le bruit de la pluie” Verlaine Pada deszcz. Pada deszcz. Tańczą cienie na firance… Biały Pierrot, nocny wieszcz, Deklamuje lilii stance. Nocą… Ćśśścho… Wszystko śpi… Jacyś… w kryzach… Mrok… rozpływa… 97 For relationships between this poem and visual arts, see Beata Śniecikowska, Słowo –​ obraz –​dźwięk. Literatura i sztuki wizualne w koncepcjach polskiej awangardy 1918–​ 1939, Kraków 2005, 115–​6. 98 Jan J. Lipski, “O poezji Tytusa Czyżewskiego,” Twórczość 6 (1960), 73. “The poem ‘Miasto’ from Zielone oko could have been written by a young Kasprowicz. Similar anachronism, especially on the background of the other, modern tendency in Czyżewski’s writing, is displayed by poems ‘Wieczór letni,’ ‘Katedra,’ ‘Sen kwiatów,’ etc.; other poems also contain elements of Young Poland aesthetics, even the more ambitious ones” (Lipski, “O poezji Tytusa Czyżewskiego,” 73). See also Karol Irzykowski, “Na Giewoncie formizmu,” in Słoń wśród porcelany, Warszawa 1934, 128–​9; Marta Wyka, “Tytus Czyżewski,” Twórczość 1 (1978), 94–​5. For Author use only 78 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland Wynosili coś przez drzwi… Miękkie kroki wchodzą w dywan… … Jak chcesz wrzeszczeć –​ciszej wrzeszcz! Przyjdą ludzie!… Światła wniosą!… ………………… Pada deszcz. Pada deszcz. Monotonnie. Capricioso. [Rain is falling. Rain is falling. Shadows dance on the sheer curtain… White Pierrot, the night poet, Recites stanzas of lilies. At night… Shhhush… Everything is asleep… Some… in ruffs… Darkness… dissolves… They moved something through the door… Soft footsteps sink in the carpet… … If you want to scream –​scream quieter! People will come!… Bringing lights!… ………………… Rain is falling. Rain is falling. Monotonously. Capricioso.] (Jas., Upms 11–​12) Themes encountered in this poem (rain, dance, lilies) are drawn from the aesthetics of the turn of the centuries. Closer examination of potential signs of innovation also leads to Young Poland conventions. Although the second stanza can be associated with “words-​in-​freedom,” it certainly does not boost the dynamic of the text. Long pauses signalled by suspension points, consonances based mainly on fricatives, the prolonged “ś” in “Ćśśścho” [Shhhush…] force one to read the poem calmly and slowly. Contrary to what it suggests at first glance, the stanza proves to be syntactically coherent. The only form of experimentation (if this is the right word to refer to the use of suspension points)99 can be identified in visual terms. What surprises in this soft text is the expressionistic and expressive “scream” (also due to clear alliteration connected with the use of a polyptoton and the repetition of fricatives and affricates in onomatopoeic words). It is silenced, however, with the repeated phrase “Rain is falling” and “musical,” foreign-​sounding word “Capricioso.” Other important aspects include: the syllabotonic versification system organizing the entire text (typical of Young Poland) and a strong intertext 99 This is a frequent element also in Young Poland texts, but it would never appear in them in such density. For Author use only Young Poland “musicality”: Continuations 79 in the form of a motto from Verlaine. Despite suggestion of change in artistic convention, primarily at the visual level,100 “Deszcz” remains strongly and professedly tied to poetry from the turn of the centuries. Another poem that can be invoked in the context of a debt incurred by Futurism from Young Poland is “Tango jesienne” [Autumn tango] by Jasieński: Jest chłodny dzień pąsowy i olive. Po rżyskach węszy wiatr i ryży seter Aleją brzóz przez klonów leitmotiv Przechodzisz ty, ubrana w bury sweter Od ściernisk ciągnie ostry, chłodny wiatr. Jest jesień, szara, smutna polska jesień… Po drogach liście tańczą pas-​de-​quatre I po kałużach zimny ciąg ich niesie. Dziś upadł deszcz i drobny był, jak mgła W zagonach błyszczy woda mętno-​szklista. Wyskoczył zając z mchów i siadł w pół pas. Słońcempijany mały futurysta. Po polach straszą widma suchych iw, A każda iwa, jak ogromna wiecha… Aleją brzóz przez klonów leitmotiv Przechodzisz ty samotna, bezuśmiecha… I tyle dumy ma twój każdy ruch I tyle cichej, smutnej katastrofy. Gdy, idąc drogą tak po latach dwóch, Ty z cicha nucisz moje śpiewne strofy… [The day is cold, crimson and olive. Wind and a ginger setter snuffle through the stubble, Through a birch alley, and a maple leitmotif You walk, wearing a brownish grey sweater A sharp cold wind rises from the stubble. It is autumn, a grey, sad and Polish autumn… Leaves dance pas-​de-​quatre on the roads A cold current carries them through puddles. A misty rain fell today, the drops tiny Water glistens in patches, hazy and glazed. 100 Certainly, we should remember that similar devices (though isolated at the time) can be also found in earlier poetry, e.g. in works by Cyprian Kamil Norwid. For Author use only 80 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland A hare jumped from the moss and sat down bowing. A little futurist, drunk-​with-​sunshine. Spectres of dry sallows haunt the fields, Each one like an enormous wisp… Through a birch alley and a maple leitmotif You walk, alone and smileless… Every move carrying such pride And so much silent, sad catastrophe. When, walking this road after two years, You silently hum my melodious stanzas…] (Jas., Upms 23–​4) The syllabotonic poem offers a vivid description marked by a plethora of colours and a clearly musical character in the style of Young Poland. The atmospheric autumn landscape with “spectres of dry sallows” introduces an unsettling atmosphere of mystery. “Musicality” is further underscored by words connoting sound-​related meanings (“pas-​de-​quatre;” “bowing;” “leitmotif”), unusual foreign words (“olive;” the aforementioned musicological terms) and numerous devices such as anaphora (“I tyle”), lexical repetitions (“autumn;” “sallows”), repetition of lines or their parts (“Through a birch alley and a maple leitmotif /​You walk”). Delicate signals of transcending the aesthetics typical of the poetics from the turn of the centuries emerge primarily at the level of meaning: the brownish grey sweater (in place of gauzy robes shrouding Young Poland heroines, or rags worn by apparitions and demons) and the futurist-​hare, which appears out of the blue. The poem also puzzles with grotesque phrases like “snuffling wind” or “spectres of dry sallows haunt the fields, /​Each one like an enormous wisp.” Anthropomorphic natural elements –​often encountered in lyricism from the turn of the centuries –​are given meanings that cannot hold the weight of Young Poland gravity. Still, another frame of reference needs to be pointed out in the context of works by Jasieński and Młodożeniec. Before becoming Futurists, both of them spent time in Moscow, where they would become acquainted with Russian symbolism, which was evolving in avant-​garde directions.101 One of the most popular egofuturists of the period (who also briefly worked with cubofuturists) was Igor Severyanin. Despite his clearly avant-​garde ambitions, “he would draw from symbolism … embracing fondness for the sound magic of words and rocking melodiousness achieved through repetition of words, phrases, or clusters of similarly sounding words.”102 Works by Jasieński and Młodożeniec contain clear echoes of Severyanin’s 101 Cf. “Wstęp,” 24. 102 Zbigniew Barański, “Futuryzm w Rosji,” in Futuryzm i jego warianty, 62. The Symbolist origins of Severyanin’s texts are further emphasized by his quasi-​ genre terminology he developed to describe his works as “romances,” “stanzas,” “nocturnes,” “rondos,” “sinfoniettas,” “overtures,” “grandiozas,” “rondolettos,” which For Author use only Young Poland “musicality”: Continuations 81 poetry. “Tango jesienne” is composed in this spirit, utilizing conventions typical of the turn of the centuries (also clearly signalled by the symbolist sound aesthetic preserved in the poem). Just like works by the Russian poet, older patterns are subjected to subtle yet discernible modification. Another non-​parodistic poem that could be juxtaposed with Severyanin’s lyricism (and to some degree with Mayakovsky’s)103 and appears to be clearly indebted to Young Poland is “Maria” by Stanisław Młodożeniec: Konała miłość w poszarpanych ariach –​ w tamtym salonie ktoś obcasem walił –​ Ty byłaś jedna –​ –​jedna byłaś MARIA –​ kwiat operlony mistycznej konwalii –​ Ty byłaś jedna przez te długie zmierzchy kiedy to miłość składa ręce na krzyż –​ Chwile jak wieki –​i jak chwile przeszły I nikt nie patrzy, a ty ciągle patrzysz –​ Po cóż pstrokatych tyle naszło osób –​ z rozwianym włosem tyle wpadło kobiet? Precz –​precz –​nie krzyczeć –​ –​JEJ już brakło głosu zamilkł na ziemi –​i do Boga pobiegł. [Love was dying in torn arias –​ someone was clattering heels in that salon You were the one –​ –​You were the one MARIA the pearly flower of a mystic lily of the valley You were the one in the long dusks when love puts its arms on the cross –​ Moments like centuries –​passing momentarily No one is looking, but you keep looking –​ Why would a motley crowd come –​ so many women with hair blown about? Away –​away –​do not scream –​ –​SHE already lost her voice it fell silent on earth –​and ran off to God.] (Młodoż., Up 73) are clearly reminiscent of poetic “melodies” and “nocturnes” hugely popular in symbolism. 103 See the famous poem “Oblako v shtanakh” [A Cloud in Trousers]. For Author use only 82 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland The syllabic and, in many places, syllabotonic poem employs symbolist themes (“dying,” “mystical lily,” “long dusks,” scream, silence and vague references such as “that salon,” “someone,” “centuries”), words connoting musical meanings (“torn arias”), anaphora (“You were”), repetition of lexemes (“looking;” “away”) and phrases –​often involving inversion (“byłaś jedna” and “jedna byłaś;” “chwile jak” and “jak chwile”). The quoted poem demonstrates that Młodożeniec was in fact a poet who, apart from experimental works, would write texts “traditional in terms of rhyme and rhythm, fluent, ‘poetic’ in the style imitative of Young Poland.”104 Without any fault, he follows in this poem the Young Poland aesthetic, with the only change in imagery (the sound poetics remains unchanged in relation to patterns taken over from symbolism) arising in connection to the “motley crowd,” which appears too garish for the musical and dimmed poetic vision, or to the overly prosaic clatter of heels. Let us recall two other texts by Młodożeniec: poems that follow in the footsteps of symbolism and Severyanin and certainly belong to the group of works “written in a purely Art Nouveau style without any accompanying parodistic elements.”105 “Musicality” would be again rooted in the specific semantic nebulousness and the use of words connoting sound meanings, as well as in the functioning of alliteration, assonance, consonance and onomatopoeia. His poems also utilize classic symbolist props. Just like paintings by Böcklin or Malczewski, these texts feature a midget, a faun, a panther, a mirror, a nest of snakes, supplemented with abstract categories like reverie, pagan fairy tale, lust. However, we should underline that these texts –​included in the collection Kwadraty, making it possible to discuss them in this study106 –​were written in Moscow in 1917, i.e. before Futurism began in Poland. Consider the poem “Kandelabr” [Candelabrum] –​bent in Art Nouveau fashion (in visual, syntactic and semantic terms) –​and the erotic, mythological “Ballada” [Ballad]: Stoi kandelabr staroświecki –​ ognie się mienią w oczach karła –​ na załamaniu linii greckiej –​ moja zaduma się oparła –​ Kwiat mię odurza nenufara –​ nimf rozbrzmiewają orkiestrony –​ 104 Helena Zaworska, “Przemiany polskiego futuryzmu,” in Literatura polska 1918–​1975, Vol. 1, eds. A. Brodzka, H. Zaworska, S. Żółkiewski, Warszawa 1975, 355. 105 Teresa Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna w oczach językoznawcy,” Przegląd Humanistyczny 5 (1979), 16. See also Stanisław Burkot, Stanisław Młodożeniec. Rzecz o chłopskim futuryście, Warszawa 1985, 31. 106 Cf. Introduction, 9–​10. For Author use only Young Poland “musicality”: Continuations 83 baśń się pogańska snuje stara –​ tonę w melodiach w głąb wpatrzony. –​ Waza etruska winem szczodra woń egipskiego chłonie kwiatu –​ w rytm elastyczny gną się biodra –​ usta nabrzmiały krwią granatu. [An old-​fashioned candelabrum stands –​ flames shimmer in the midget’s eyes –​ at a break of the Greek line –​ my reverie leaned –​ A yellow water lily dazes me –​ Orchestras of nymphs resound –​ an old pagan fairy tale spins itself –​ I sink in melodies, gazing deep inside. –​ An Etruscan vase generous with wine soaks up the scent of an Egyptian flower –​ hips bend to the elastic rhythm –​ lips swollen with bloody pomegranate.] (Ant. 188–​189) Śmiejąc się wody strumieniami pluszcze przegięty faun. Pogrążona w szmery dama plecami łasi grzbiet pantery i w sufitowym przegląda się lustrze. W zygzaczne linie wyłamane ciało ślizga się w żądzach i z rozkoszy pręży –​ jako na słońcu kłębowisko węży jakby płomieni w nim huragan gnało. [Laughing, the bent faun splashes streams of water. Sunk in rustle the lady fawns the panther’s back with her own looking at herself in the ceiling mirror. The body bent in zigzags –​ glides on lust and flexes with pleasure like the sun on a nest of snakes as if chasing a hurricane of flames.] (Młodoż., Up 89) The above examples show that Polish Futurism would indeed include “many works that lacked extraordinary elements.”107 Despite aggressively expressed disdain for 107 Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna,” 14. For Author use only 84 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland the poetics and philosophy of Young Poland, Futurists did not shun the characteristic means of achieving literary “musicality.” They would utilize the instrumentation techniques of Young Poland, retaining the modality of lyricism from the turn of the centuries.108 The discussed passages certainly do not exhaust the Futurists’ wide range of references to the literary tradition and their direct predecessors. It remains more fascinating, however, to study their attempts to enter a dialogue with the poetry of Young Poland. 3. C  reative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic This section discusses works clearly alluding to the style of Young Poland, taking them as the point of departure yet going beyond the framework defined by artists from the turn of the century. The focus is placed here on those texts by the Futurists which do not polemicize strongly with either technical or semantic aspects of their immediate predecessors. This strategy of alluding to the heritage of Young Poland is relatively rare. The present aim is to demonstrate how the next step in poetic evolution was made at the time (an evolution whose symptoms were already discernible in poems discussed in the previous section), overcoming former conventions without rejecting them. The moderate experimentation displayed by the Futurists proves that they were not an extreme movement that would either replicate faded patterns or thunderously deny them. We may link this phenomenon of inventive continuation. Analysis of creative exploitation of predecessors can follow three paths. First, what seems notable is the effort to overcome Young Poland mannerisms, primarily modifying in various ways the use of literary devices that define the sound of the poem. Second, there are texts that do not abandon the symbolist poetics of sound but change the meanings of poems (thus questioning sometimes one of the hallmarks of “musicality,” namely the semantic nebulousness). Third, we may point to poems that combine the characteristics of these two categories. The issue of non-​parodistic development of the Young Poland style has been so far disregarded in studies of Polish Futurism, but it calls for broader discussion. A. Y  oung Poland semantics and modifications of its sound aesthetics Once again analysis can commence from a discussion of texts by the oldest Polish Futurist, Tytus Czyżewski. One of his more intriguing poems in terms of sound, imagery and mood is “Taniec” [Dance]: Śmiech –​dźwięk… dzwoni –​ 108 See Bolecki, Modalność. For Author use only Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic Tupot –​blask –​ Kandelabry. Dźwięk –​dreszcz… ha, Płaszcz, czerwień, zieleń, szał!… a –​ha. Ton: –​C, A. * * * Rozkosz –​szał Pierś nagą odsłania. Żółty płaszcz, fiolet –​biel –​ Uderza w brąz. Koła –​ogniste –​tęcze Blask. * * * Linia łuku… plecy –​ Cisza! Jęk, ból i szał, Purpura. Ciemnieje blask, Leci szary zmrok. [Laughter –​sound… rings –​ Patter –​blaze –​ Candelabras Sound –​shiver… ha, Coat, red, green, frenzy!… a –​ha. Tone: C, A. * * * Bliss –​frenzy Reveals a naked breast Yellow coat, violet –​white –​ Strikes the bronze Circles –​flaming –​rainbows For Author use only 85 86 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland Blaze. * * * Arc line… back –​ Silence! Moan, pain and frenzy Crimson. The blaze fades, The grey dusk flies.] (Czyż., Pipd 39–​40) The text abounds in themes derived from Young Poland: “dance,” “sound,” “blaze,” “bliss,” “candelabras,” “moan,” “pain,” “frenzy,” and “grey dusk.” The poem is subordinated to principles of synaesthesia as its stanzas combine sounds, strong emotions (“frenzy” and “bliss”) and colours,109 often supplementing each other (“sound –​shiver;” “red, green”).110 Sensually overwhelming and full of sharp colours, it appears homogenous insofar as it lacks surprising, alogical juxtapositions. Moreover, nothing undermines the text’s coherence on the semantic plane (unlike in Dadaist or surrealist works). The fundamental difference between the poetics of the turn of the centuries and poems like “Taniec” rests in the mode of combining the same components. Although everything seems similar to late-​nineteenth-​ century lyricism, differences emerge too. Numerous terms denoting colours and proper, non-​intuitive names of sounds make the poem sensual and surprisingly matter-​of-​fact, precise in a way that departs from Young Poland. Terms like “tone: C, A” are musicologically specific and entirely un-​lyrical. Without epithets like “monotonous” and “hollow” or unusual-​ sounding musicological words from Italian, they simply describe basic “units of melody.” Enumerations comprising onomatopoeias (“moan,” “patter,” “sound”) as well as short, one-​or two-​syllable-​long words connoting images typical of the turn of the centuries (“blaze,” “shiver,” “frenzy,” “pain,” “dusk”) clearly make the poem more dynamic. Even the “grey dusk” from the last line is not arriving slowly but “flies.” Despite employing many typically symbolist themes, the atmospheric nebulousness begins to disperse. The poem is almost entirely comprised by keywords from the repertoire of Young Poland, which seem painstakingly chosen. Still, it lacks drawn-​out descriptions; the poetic message is condensed and, importantly for the present discussion, remarkably clear in terms of sound, almost phonically aggressive. After 109 See Markus Eberharter, Der poetische Formismus Tytus Czyżewskis. Ein literarischer Ansatz der frühen polnischen Avantgarde und sein mitteleuropäischer Kontext, München 2004, 176–​7. Relationships between this text and the Formist visual art of Czyżewski is discussed in Śniecikowska, Słowo –​obraz –​dźwięk, 99–​101. 110 We may indicate a distant kinship with Khlebnikov’s concept of “sound-​record” [dźwiękozapis]. Cf. the first section of Chapter Two. For Author use only Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic 87 being carefully selected from works by older poets, the poem’s words have been organized according to principles laid down by Marinetti. Nouns without epithets sit next to each other, while syntax is reduced to a minimum. Apart from conventional punctuation marks, the poem uses a typographical ornament of symmetrically arranged stars and dashes separating words freed from syntactic chains.111 The entire piece is highly dynamic and, despite sharing much with Young Poland texts –​decidedly innovative. As it turns out, Czyżewski managed to mix symbolist ingredients into a pioneering work. It is not without reason that “Taniec” is compared to the formist painting Salome.112 111 See F. T. Marinetti, “Manifeste technique de la Littérature futuriste” (1912), in Giovanni Lista, Futurisme. Manifestes –​proclamations –​documents, Lausanne 1973, 133–​4. For an English version see F. T. Marinetti, “Technical Manifesto of Futurist Literature (May 11, 1912),” in Selected Writings, ed. R. W. Flint, trans. R. W. Flint, A. A. Coppotelli, London 1972, 84 ff. The main postulates of the Italian “Pope of Futurism” include: “dissolution of old syntax …, use of verbs in the infinite, elimination of adjectives, which only deform the object’s character, and of adverbs, which connect words and make sentences monotonous; moreover, creation of new words from nouns only, in compounds without prepositions, e.g. man-​torpedo. Finally, punctuation should be abandoned, vanishing naturally upon implementing the above principles. Instead of commas and full stops one should use mathematical symbols denoting movement and direction, as well as musical symbols. These measures should help to avoid pauses and stops, which are unimaginable in images reflecting a dynamic vision of the world. Elimination of adjectives is also postulated by Marinetti because they make sentences static, creating moments of reflection” (Józef Heistein, “Futuryzm we Włoszech,” in Futuryzm i jego warianty, 32; see also Zbigniew Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” xcvi-​xcvii; Sergiusz Sterna-​Wachowiak, Miąższ zakazanych owoców. Jankowski –​Jasieński –​Grędziński (szkice o futuryzmie), Bydgoszcz 1985, 71–​2). In his later works, Marinetti admits the use of adjectives in certain contexts: “By using one or more adjectives isolated between parentheses or placed beside some words-​in-​freedom behind a perpendicular line (in clefs), we can render the various atmospheres and tones that govern a narrative. These atmosphere-​adjectives or tone-​adjectives cannot be replaced with nouns. They are intuitive convictions that resist explanation” (Marinetti, “La splendeur géométrique,” 149). For an English version, see F. T. Marinetti, “Geometric and Mechanical Splendor and the Numerical Sensibility (March 18, 1914),” in Selected Writings, 99. Marinetti relatively quickly arrives at the conclusion about the “semaphore-​like” meaning of adjectives. He claims that their use can help with regulating the poem’s pace (Heistein, Futuryzm we Włoszech, 35). The lines “Koła –​ogniste –​tęcze /​/​Blask” from the poem by Czyżewski, where the adjective is graphically isolated, perfectly illustrates Marinetti’s idea. 112 See Baluch, “Wstęp,” xxvi; Joanna Pollakówna, “Malarze i podpalacze,” in Sztuka XX wieku. Materiały Sesji Stowarzyszenia Historyków Sztuki, Warszawa 1971, 196; Lipski, O poezji Tytusa Czyżewskiego, 72–​3; Śniecikowska, Słowo –​obraz –​dźwięk, 97–​101. Baluch also identifies another intertext, i.e. paintings by Jan Hrynkowski (to whom the poem is dedicated) such as Taniec [Dance] and Tancerka [Dancer]. For Author use only 88 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland The following poem by Czyżewski –​titled “Zapadnia” [Trapdoor] –​is sometimes described as a “report of a typical dream.”113 Idę przez długie ulice przez korytarze przez ciemne piwnice przez dzwony huczące przez pola jarzące przez lasy ciemne przez myśli daremne przez zasłony pąsowe … idę przez dźwięki przez struny skrzypiec które lecą przede mną …………………… wszedłem w żółte pokoje wszystkie zamknięte podwoje i miękkie tony i różowe śpiewy i zielone zasłony …………………… 45 izb 45 drzwi 45 kluczy 45 progów wszystkie zamknięte przede mną …………………… idę przez ciemne piwnice idę przez wąskie ulice idę w głęboki korytarz [I am walking Through long streets through corridors through dark cellars through booming bells through glowing fields through dark forests through futile thoughts through crimson curtains … I am walking through sounds through violin strings that fly before me …………………… I walked into yellow rooms all the doors locked and soft tones and pink songs and green curtains …………………… 45 rooms 45 doors 45 keys 45 thresholds all locked before me …………………… I am walking through dark cellars I am walking through narrow streets walking into a deep corridor 113 Henryk Dubowik, “Motywy nadrealistyczne u futurystów i formistów,” in Nadrealizm w polskiej literaturze współczesnej, Poznań 1971, 108. For Author use only Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic zapadam się w pąsową wodę w bezdeń bez dna jedwabną płachtę bez dna …………………… zapala się ogień płoną gromnice mgławice świece gromnice lice ręce źrenice płomienie świece gromnice bezdeń bezdeń bez dna …………………… a a a …………………… poznałem oczy pędzące hotelową windą w upalne popołudnie na dno …………………… piwnice ulice źrenice świece gromnice lice ostre iglice bezdeń bezdeń bez dna. 89 I am sinking into crimson water a bottomless abyss a silk sheet bottomless …………………… the fire is kindled blessed candles burn nebulae candles blessed candles faces hands pupils flames candles blessed candles abyss abyss bottomless …………………… a a a …………………… I recognized the eyes rushing with the hotel elevator on a hot afternoon to the bottom …………………… cellars streets pupils candles blessed candles faces pointed spires abyss abyss bottomless.] (Czyż., Pipd 99–​101) In this poem Czyżewski employs compositional methods typical of Young Poland: words whose meanings allude to music (“booming bells,” “sounds,” “violin strings,” synesthetic “soft tones” and “pink songs”) as well as words implicating semantic ambiguity and mystery (“dark forests,” “futile thoughts,” “crimson curtains,” “nebulae,” “blessed candles,” “abyss”). The poem’s sound structure is determined by typically Young Poland instrumentation: anaphors, echoing words (“corridor,” “crimson,” “streets,” “abyss”). However, certain elements of the text’s construction clearly transcend traditional style.114 What draws attention is the 114 Considering semantics, the only transgression of Young Poland conventions comes from delicate elements suggestive of modern civilization, e.g. hotel elevator. For Author use only 90 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland typography, which immediately suggests departure from poetic predecessors.115 Analysis of the poem’s instrumentation confirms this. Czyżewski’s phonostylistic innovations include: – syntactic and sound-​related specificity of post-​anaphoric, quasi-​litany structure of the first part: short phrases, unlike the hypo-​and paratactic syntax typical of Young Poland; – asyntactic and strongly enumerative character of many lines, which bring the poem closer to the aesthetic of “words-​in-​freedom” (“45 rooms /​45 doors /​/​ 45 keys /​45 thresholds;” “nebulae candles blessed candles faces;” “cellars faces /​ pupils candles /​blessed candles /​faces pointed spires”); – ambiguous triple repetition of the vowel “a” (perhaps an interjection), comprising a single line; – repetition of a specific number four times, which is surprising for an atmospheric poem, and affects the poem’s sound configuration; the number having no symbolic connotations and appearing to be more like a “bookkeeping” fact;116 – clear and frequent (in comparison to predecessors) paronomastic juxtapositions of words that share etymology (“bezdeń bezdeń bez dna” [abyss abyss bottomless]) or pseudoetymology (“lice” [faces] and “iglice” [pointed spires]), which sometimes introduce “persistent” rhymes that are not separated with other lexemes, or appear at the end of the line (“gromnice /​/​mgławice świece gromnice lice /​ręce źrenice /​płomienie świece gromnice;” “piwnice ulice /​ źrenice świece /​gromnice /​lice ostre iglice”). What appears striking here is not the use of such devices but their density, which is further foregrounded by choppy syntax and free verse. The poem “Zapadnia” combines innovation (freeing words from syntactic rigour, which is compensated with many phonic approximations; material approach to language) with turn-​of-​the-​century conventions, as a result of which the composition eludes simple categorization, tying heterogeneous elements into a coherent yet unusual whole characteristic for Czyżewski.117 115 The meaning of collapsing and falling is also clearly suggested by the poem’s visual dimension (its staircase-​like arrangement of lines; lines comprised of single words). Many enumerations also contribute to this. 116 Use of numbers in literary texts was another postulate of Marinetti’s. Czyżewski’s efforts can be also compared –​without deciding about any deeper affinities between these artistic choices –​with experiments by Kurt Schwitters, who composed poems consisting entirely of numbers, e.g. “Gedicht 25” [Poem 25]: “25 /​25, 25, 25 /​26, 26, 27 /​27, 27, 28 /​28, 28, 29 /​33, 33, 35, 37, 39 /​42, 44, 46, 48, 52 /​53 /​9, 9, 9” (qtd. after John Elderfield, Kurt Schwitters, London 1987, 175). 117 The surprising composition of the poem and the density of symbolist themes bring it closer to surrealist-​like oneirism (see Dubowik, “Motywy nadrealistyczne”). For Author use only Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic 91 Another poem that has a peculiar sound and look is “Melodia” [Melody] by Młodożeniec: skołysana –​–​–​rozmodlona melodia daleka –​ za mgłą –​ ktoś mię czeka –​ kto? –​idę cicho –​ oczy –​oczy biały sen –​–​ jak spokojnie twoje oczy –​duże oczy i len włosów spadający –​ szeleszczący –​–​ to TY –​ TY naprawdę –​ TY – i ty mówisz –​–​–​ cicho –​głośno jasny dzień –​–​–​ GRA ORKIESTRA SIOSTRA –​ –​ –​ –​ BRAT tysiąc lat –​milion lat GRA ORKIESTRA mocne tony łagodnieją w twoich oczach wypłowiałych za morzami –​–​–​ GORZKA ŁZA –​ SŁODKA ŁZA… SIOSTRA –​–​–​–​ BRAT GRA ORKIESTRA wiem –​–​–​–​ wiem –​znam S–​Ł–​Y–​S–​Z–​Ę [swinging –​–​–​deep in prayer distant melody –​ behind mist someone is waiting for me –​ who? –​I walk silently– ​eyes –​eyes –​white dream –​–​ how calmly your eyes –​large eyes and the linen of hair falling –​ rustling –​–​ it is YOU really YOU – YOU –​ and you speak – – – quietly –​loudly bright day –​–​–​ THE ORCHESTRA IS PLAYING SISTER –​–​–​–​ BROTHER a thousand years –​a million years THE ORCHESTRA IS PLAYING For Author use only 92 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland strong tones softening in your eyes faded overseas BITTER TEAR – SWEET TEAR… SISTER –​–​–​–​ BROTHER THE ORCHESTRA IS PLAYING I know –​–​–​–​ I know –​I recognize I H-​E-​A-​R] (Młodoż., Up 60) The poet employs numerous alliterations, consonances and assonances (including some deepened ones), words and phrases connoting musical and sonic meanings (the eponymous “melody” as well as “quietly –​loudly,” “distant melody,” “the orchestra is playing,” “strong tones,” and “I hear”). This contributes to a sense of semantic vagueness and oneiric character, as signalled by mist, “white dream,” the unimaginable “a thousand years –​a million years,” etc. Although the poem is in many ways orthodoxically symbolist and nebulous in terms of meaning, it was composed with avant-​garde innovation: its syntactic structures are broken, contributing to its elliptical and associative character. Just like in many Young Poland poems, repetition is an important compositional principle (“quietly,” “eyes,” “you,” “years,” “the orchestra is playing,” “I know,” “sister,” “brother,” “tear”). Still, words in “Melodia” are not ordered syntactically in a canonical manner and are typographically differentiated. Spread across the page, they perform a different function than the lexical repetition in turn-​of-​the-​century lyricism. The text breaks away from Young Poland prolixity and fluidity –​it is clearly cut into particles seen and heard from different perspectives. This kind of composition is augmented by the use of vers libre, as introduced by symbolism (which certainly does not automatically guarantee a “musically” atmospheric character).118 The fragmented image regarded from a myriad of perspectives (gradually revealing a mysterious figure in the mist: eyes, hair, tears) is supplemented with a clear sonic dimension (including the aforementioned lexical repetitions, the onomatopoeia “rustling,” and “musical-​phonic” words). This aspect is finally underlined by the last emphatic line “I H-​E-​A-​R,” which is made visually distinct by capitalization and the use of hyphens. In this way, “Melodia” clearly transcends Young Poland aesthetics. Młodożeniec abandons the verbiage of long, ornamental sentences, leaving almost only a-​syntactically arranged and visually emphasized lexical indicators of symbolist “musicality.”119 Paradoxically, this makes the poem even more ambiguous and no less nebulous than texts representative of Young Poland. 118 Cf. the first section of this chapter. 119 Similar typographical devices are used by Młodożeniec in texts of an entirely dif­ ferent modality, e.g. in the ludic yet “civilization-​focused” “Radioromans” (see Ant. 185–​6). For Author use only Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic 93 A great example of partial preservation of Young Poland’s semantic modality (uncertainty, mysteriousness) accompanied by simultaneous modification of the poem’s sonic dimension is “Byk” [Bull] by Anatol Stern: Zastygła kałuża słońca. Tarantela z Carmeny. Wachlarze. Zmięte twarze. Jedwabny szelest mantyli. Czarnokształtne plamy na żółtym piachu areny. Srebrnolicy gitano strąca stanze z strun gitary. Tss… Miękki szelest mantyli. Zniżyli lance. Po chwili, Czarne, rżnące zygzaki na żółtym piasku areny. Ofiary cielsko ciężkie drżące próżno wstać się sili. Krzyk. Czerwone pelargonie. Grzmiący finał Carmeny. Tysiąc jaskrawych spojrzeń wbito mi w kark bezlitośnie. Pod potokiem jarkim świateł i rozgwaru tomboli Za barwną, kraśną płachtą sukni rzucam się ukośnie, I pozwalam się dobić, gdy ją dopadam w sekundzie Jednej byk rozjuszony, szepcąc tylko: “To mnie boli”… Przeszyty przez pachnący wzrok piccadora w rotundzie. [Solidified puddle of sun. Tarantella from Carmena. Fans. Wrinkled faces. The silky rustle of mantillas. Black-​shaped spots on yellow sand in the arena. A silver-​faced gitano plucks stanzas from guitar strings. Shush… The soft rustle of mantillas. They lowered their lances. After a while, Black, hurled zigzags on yellow sand in the arena. The heavy body of the victim tries to lift itself in vain. Scream. Red geraniums. The thundering finale of Carmena. A thousand bright glances stuck in my neck mercilessly. Under the flow of bright lights and the din of tombola Behind the garish red rag I throw myself slantwise And let them finish me off when I catch it momentarily A raging bull, whispering only “It hurts”… Pierced with the fragrant gaze of the picador in the rotunda.] (Stern, Wz 49) Stern’s sonnet frequently employs alliteration, consonance and assonance (“zastygła kałuża słońca;” “srebrnolicy gitano strąca stanze z strun gitary;” “przeszyty przez pachnący wzrok piccadora w rotundzie”), synaesthesia (“soft rustle;” “bright glances;” “fragrant gaze”), internal rhymes (“Wachlarze. Zmięte twarze;” “mantyli;” “po chwili”), exoticisms (“Tarantella,” “Carmena,” “mantilla,” “tombola,” “stanas,” etc.). What is surprising, however, is the syntactic fragmentation, e.g. the second line features three sentences without predicates. Intriguingly, For Author use only 94 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland among phrases arranged in accordance with Marinetti’s concept of “words-​ in-​freedom” there are symbolist synaesthesias (“silky rustle,” “soft rustle”). As a result, Stern’s poem has its one foot planted in an aura of mystery, typical of Young Poland, and the other –​in Futurist dynamism. Another example of transcending Young Poland conventions is the poem “Le soir d’amour” by Czyżewski, which –​according to the author himself –​is about “teeth chattering before ‘that’ which ‘later’ turns out to be something banal:”120 “Zamknij okno”… “Księżyc wszedł do pokoju,” “Rozbije lampę,” “Zamknij okno,” “Wiatr,” “Księżyc.” “Wszedł do miednicy z wodą.” “Puść mnie,” “Nie całuj mnie,” “Księżyc, Zamknij Okno, Wiatr.” Uważaj. Bucik się rozwiązał, “Zamknij okno,” Księżyc, Wiatr!! [“Close the window”… “The moon entered the room,” “It will break the lamp,” “Close the window,” “Wind,” “Moon.” “Entered the bowl of water.” “Release me,” “Don’t kiss me,” “Moon, Close the Window, Wind.” Watch out. The shoe unlaced itself, “Close the window,” Moon Wind!!] (Czyż., Pipd 59; emphasis preserved) 120 Tytus Czyżewski, “Tytus Czyżewski o ‘Zielonym oku’ i swoim malarstwie,” in Czyż., Pipd 119, emphasis preserved (phonetically transcribed in Jednodńuwka futurystuw. Mańifesty futuryzmu polskiego, Kraków 1921 [pages unnumbered]). For Author use only Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic 95 This poem is a classic example of a contextual lyric because it consists almost entirely of a dialogue between two lovers. It contains many elements that are typical of Young Poland poetics: wind, moon and kiss. What seems innovative in comparison to regular turn-​of-​the-​century lyricism is primarily the very composition of this atmospheric text. No longer syntactically prolix in the manner of Young Poland, it is fragmented, imitative of everyday speech, and simultaneously strongly metaphorical in its replies. In a poem constructed in this way, typical turn-​of-​the-​century instrumentation –​involving repetition of words and phrases –​ becomes the basic or even sole device structuring the poem in its sonic dimension. Recurrence of the same lexemes and phrases comprises the basic compositional framework, emerging as the dominant feature of the poem to a greater degree than in works by Young Poland authors. B. Y  oung Poland poetics of sound and moving beyond the symbolist aura This section analyses poems adapting –​without much modification –​the literary devices that were crucial in the process of making turn-​of-​the-​century poetry more “musical.” These works go beyond Young Poland conventions primarily in terms of semantics.121 The first poem is “Taniec” [Dance] by Stanisław Młodożeniec: …a to mi gra –​ to opętanie –​ nie widzę łba przy fortepianie, –​ a ty –​–​–​tańczysz… Nie –​–​to zębów twych wirują łyski –​ Nie –​–​to myśli mych skaczące noże –​ Ktoś oddala się –​i znowu bliski –​ –​–​–​Boże! Boże!… …a to mi gra –​ to opętanie –​ ten przepadł drab przy fortepianie, –​ a ty –​–​–​tańczysz… Nie –​–​to lecą z nieba pomarańcze –​ Nie –​–​to miąższ twych ust gdzieś więźnie w krtani –​ Bóle –​łaskoty szarpią opętańcze –​ –​–​–​–​–​–​–​–​–​Pani! pani! –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ 121 Many texts of this type appear in later, post-​Futurist books, for example by Młodożeniec. For Author use only 96 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland …a to mi gra –​ to obłąkanie. […this is what plays for me this possession –​ I cannot see the head at the piano, –​ and you –​–​–​you are dancing… No –​–​these are the whites of your teeth flashing –​ No –​–​these are the jumping knives of thoughts –​ Someone is moving away –​and comes close again –​ –​–​–​God! God!… …this is what plays for me this possession –​ the bruiser is gone the one at the piano, –​ and you –​–​–​you are dancing… No –​–​these are oranges falling from the sky –​ No –​–​the flesh of your lips sticks in the throat –​ Pains –​tickles are jerking frenziedly –​ –​–​–​–​–​–​–​–​–​Lady! lady! –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ …this is what plays for me this possession.] (Młodoż., Up 167)122 Dancing, playing an instrument and possession are symbolist themes, which are arranged in a manner that appears to be typical of Young Poland, involving numerous lexical repetitions, alliterations, consonances, assonances, anaphora, post-​anaphoric parallelisms, as well as refrain-​like and onomatopoeic leitmotifs (“this is what plays for me”).123 However, in a piece structured similarly to earlier poetry Młodożeniec also employs lexemes that violate the Young Poland decorum, including the colloquial word “łeb” (the “head” or more precisely “noggin” at the piano) (perhaps also a signal of decidedly symbolist “daemonic” character –​ 122 The poem was published in Futurogamy (1933, dated 1934); originally printed in Formiści, April 1921, Vol. 2. The text is dated by the author (6 January 1920). See Burek, “Przypisy,” Młodoż., Up 506. 123 With its short lines, the refrain seems closer to folk song rather than symbolist syntactic prolixity –​these kinds of constructions would also appear sporadically in poems from the turn of the century (cf. e.g. Tetmajer’s poem “Czardasz” quoted in fn. 68 in this chapter). Still, Młodożeniec’s leitmotif is not repeated exactly. For Author use only Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic 97 a possessed devil’s head), the rather unpoetic “whites of teeth,” the surprising metaphor of “jumping knives of thoughts,” the colloquial words “bruiser” and “tickles,” and the iconoclastic, hyperbolic “flesh of lips sticking in the throat.” Play with conventions is noticeable precisely thanks to the contrasts between the relatively traditional compositional framework (only slightly modified by the unusual visual arrangement) and meanings that do not match the symbolist convention. Semantic games with Young Poland aesthetics can be also identified in poems written by Czyżewski, for example in “Miasto w jesienny wieczór (niesielanka)” [City on an autumn evening (an anti-​pastoral)]: wdziej ciepłe astrachany termometr wciąż opada od knajpy śpiew pijany dysonans serenada w kościele dzwonią dzwony ktoś kogoś kopnął nogą w kanale z mgieł opony i psy już wyć nie mogą ni słońce się nie śmieje nad miastem płyną dymy kogut na zmianę pieje z cmentarza kapią rymy mknie autem nierządnica tramwaj w aleje zmyka wyblanszowane lica pantofle nieboszczyka czuć zapach świeżej ziemi i trzepią stare meble fa so la si do re mi drabiny białe szczeble w ochronce płaczą dzieci i chmury mkną powoli purpura zorzy świeci łachmanom ludzkiej doli [don your warm sheepskin coat the thermometer is still falling drunken songs from the bar dissonance serenade bells are tolling at the church somebody kicked someone else in a canal surrounded with mists dogs cannot howl anymore nor the sun smiles smoke flies over the city For Author use only 98 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland the cock is crowing in turns rhymes ooze from the cemetery a harlot is speeding in a car a tram disappears in the alley blanched faces dead man’s shoes one can feel the smell of fresh earth old furniture flutters fa so la si do re mi ladders white rungs children cry in the orphanage and clouds scud along slowly crimson twilight is shining over the rags of human fate] (Czyż., Pipd 41–​42) As Marta Wyka argues, this poem “demonstrates that the transition between poetics was not as revolutionary as the authors themselves would desire”124 because the text “does not set itself free from … its symbolic burden.”125 The “anti-​ pastoral” appears quite distinct yet soft, overcoming the Young Polish style in a non-​revolutionary manner. Already the first two lines –​the kind-​hearted, “prosaic” piece of advice (“astrachany”126 can be associated today, rather comically, mainly with “barchany” [barragon; underwear]) –​announce a turn away from the unsettling, musical mysteriousness. Czyżewski draws closely from the Young Poland thematic repository, using words such as “song,” “serenade,” “bells,” “cry,” “mist,” “cemetery,” and “twilight.” Apart from these well-​known elements introduced by his predecessors he also employs “musically” concrete terms that seem alien to Young Poland poetics: solmization names of tones.127 The quasi-​symbolist construction is undermined by colloquial words and phrases, even those that become part of alliteration (“ktoś kogoś kopnął nogą;” “somebody kicked someone else”). The symbolist style is also undercut by phrases describing the urban pace of life (“a harlot is speeding in a car,” “a tram disappears in the alley” –​notably, in Polish both phrases involve the use of unimposing onomatopoeic verbs).128 Finally, the surprising line “dissonance serenade” offers the most concise summary of the poem. 124 125 126 127 Wyka, “Tytus Czyżewski,” 95. Wyka, “Tytus Czyżewski,” 94–​5. I.e., Astrakhan karakul fur; see Czyż., Pipd 41. Solmization would also appear in picaresque literature –​see e.g. Joanna Maleszyńska, “Staropolskie wiersze muzyczne,” in Wariacje na temat. Studia literackie, eds. J. Abramowska, A. Czyżak, Z. Kopeć, Poznań 2003, 129. Cf. also the remarks on the poem “Taniec” by Czyżewski in section 3A of this chapter. 128 Cf. the first section of the book. For Author use only Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic 99 The rapid rhythm of the poem –​cut through with many pauses at line breaks due to the use of short, seven-​syllable lines –​as well as the fact that it is a rhymed syllabotonic work contribute to its dynamic character. Symbolist themes and musical references to Young Poland immediately mix with the everyday, the unpoetic and the iconoclastic: church bells sit next to “drunken singing” at a bar, a cemetery appears in the context of a motorized harlot and the crimson twilight follows the flutter of old furniture. Despite clear instrumentation and regular versification, the poem, composed from juxtapositions and comprised by chaotic snapshots from everyday life appears to be “semantically cacophonic.” The quite absurd mixture of the old and the new resembles a montage in which symbolist lyricism (the misty canal, serenade, smoke over the city) breaks under pressure from the influx of the lively and the everyday. The finale revisits Young Poland poetics (“crimson twilight,” “rag of human fate”) yet cannot obliterate the general sense of registers having been mixed. It turns out that old methods of composition are insufficient to reflect the changing reality, but these methods can be interestingly updated. Jasieński’s poem “ZemBY” [TeeTH] (with a musical subtitle –​“A rhapsody”) can be also interpreted as an example of transcending Young Poland aesthetics through modification of the atmosphericity characteristic for turn-​of-​the-​century literature: A z półotwartych drzwi kipiących barów Buchają kłęby –​ Ze wszystkich kątów. Z czarnych lupanarów, Z suteren Niejednostajnie, Urywanie Dzwonią Z e m b y … I te, Co mają w sobie jakiś smęt malutki, Ostre –​przeciągłe –​zgrzytliwe Z e m b y brzydkiej ospowatej prostytutki, … A skądś głęboko, z wnętrzności, Idzie suchy, nieprzyjemny stuk Siekanych kości. Wyżej i niżej. Do –​Re –​Mi –​Fa –​Sol… Jak dziwne, upiorne gamy Z jednym powracającym refrenem, Które śpiewa w salonie konającej damy Stary półobłąkany profesor solfeggia, Przelewają się długim powłóczystym trenem Szybkie, nierówne, For Author use only 100 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland Rozklekotane arpeggia. … I tylko w ciszy, jak szept złowrogi, Melodyjnie, urywanie długi, Z e m b y wydzwaniają swoje bachofugi… … I te Nerwowe, nierówne, Przechodzące w przyspieszone pasaże Z e m b y podnieconego kochanka W fiołkowym buduarze Mężatki, … Na koncercie w zatłoczonej sali Blady, zdenerwowany muzyk Tańczy palcami po klawiaturze Dzikie gawoty Szopenowskich walców I słyszy wszędzie ten rytm I stukot –​i stukot –​i stukot, Co mu wychodzi spod palców, Co mu się w palcach przeplata, Równy, monotonny, złowrogi, Jakby dzwoniły naraz Wszystkie z e m b y całego świata… [From half-​open doors to bursting bars Belching clouds –​ From all corners. From black brothels From basements Unevenly, Intermittently Ringing t e e t h … And these t e e t h of an ugly pockmarked prostitute, sharp –​long –​grinding with some tiny gloom inside them, … From somewhere deep, from the inside, Comes a dry, unnerving tap Of chopped bones. Higher and lower. Do –​Re –​Mi –​Fa –​Sol… Like strange, ghastly scales For Author use only Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic 101 With one recurring refrain, Sung at the salon of a dying lady By a half-​mad professor of solmization, Overflowing with a long sweeping train Of fast, uneven, Rickety arpeggios. … And only in silence, like an ominous whisper, Melodious, intermittently long, T e e t h ring out their Bach-​fugues… … And these Nervous, uneven, Fading into quickened passage works T e e t h of an aroused lover In a violet boudoir Married ladies, … At a concert in a crowded hall A pale, nervous musician Dances his fingers across the keyboard Wild gavottes of Chopin’s waltzes And hears this rhythm everywhere And the tap –​the tap –​tha tap, Coming out from under his fingers Sliding through his fingers, Even, monotonous, menacing Chattering just as if These were all the world’s t e e t h…] (Jas., Upms 41–​45; emphasis preserved) Vivid descriptions of life in “bursting bars,” “black brothels,” “violet boudoirs,” basements and salons are both naturalistic and atmospheric, drastic and musical. Jasieński managed to achieve this surprising effect by amassing many elements characteristic for Young Poland poetics. The nebulous mood is set by words like “strange,” “ghastly,” “dying,” “sweeping,” “half-​mad,” “pale,” and “menacing.” There are also musicological terms (the eponymous “rhapsody” as well as “scales,” “refrain,” “solmization,” “arpeggios,” “passage works,” “gavottes,” “waltzes,” and the neologism “Bach-​fugues”) and words connoting musical or sound-​related meanings (“keyboard,” “rhythm,” “listen,” “sing,” “melodious,” “musician”). Another important textual component consists of numerous onomatopoeias (“tap,” “rickety,” “whisper,” “grinding”). The use of traditional sound aesthetics also involves anaphora, synaesthesia (“dry tap”) and lexical repetitions, which importantly lend the text additional “musicality” through the naturalistic leitmotif of “chattering teeth.” For Author use only 102 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland Despite employing so many elements from the Young Poland repertoire, the poem clearly goes beyond the boundaries of this aesthetic. Jasieński draws on this style yet radically increases the density of the devices that contribute to the work’s “musicality.” However, just like Czyżewski’s “Taniec” and “Miasto w jesienny wieczór,” the poem also features elements that oppose the poetic ambiguities characteristic for Young Poland, specifically technical sound names, which do not feel extraordinary (unlike the Italian “arpeggios”): “Do –​Re –​Mi –​Fa –​Sol.”129 The description thus becomes clearly exaggerated, deformed and grotesque. In literary terms, the grotesque manifested in the most captivating and varied way in Young Poland prose (e.g. by Felicjan Faleński, Roman Jaworski, Jan Lemański, Adolf Nowaczyński).130 The grotesque’s crucial symptoms in poetry seem to include hyperbolic fantastic elements as well as themes of madness and demonism surfacing in characterizations of certain figures by Polish symbolists and expressionists. There was no place for social themes that are strongly and naturalistically accentuated in Jasieński. The problem of urban poverty, continuously emphasized by the overarching, repetitive theme of “teeth”131 (both sonically and visually), changes the meaning of the poem’s musical composition. In the end, this “rhapsody” transcends Polish symbolism yet does not take the avant-​garde direction, instead following in the footsteps of Baudelaire.132 129 Cf. pp. 53–74. 130 See Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Groteska, groteskowość,” in Słownik literatury polskiej XX wieku, 351–​3; Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Od potworów do znaków pustych. Z dziejów groteski: Młoda Polska i dwudziestolecie międzywojenne,” Pamiętnik Literacki 1 (1989), 93–​107. Cf. also the conclusion of Chapter Three. 131 Balcerzan writes: “Here we see a city flooded by a single sound rising all around: the chattering of teeth. In every corner hides a transmitter of this terrifying ‘music:’ chattering teeth of an ugly prostitute, the ‘sharp –​drawn-​out –​grinding’ sound, like a ‘rattle of cut bones,’ of the teeth of a raped girl, ‘ringing their own Bach-​fugues,’ and finally the teeth of a frightened boy who fell into a stinking canal. The clatter and rattle, the ringing and screeching continually criss-​cross with a sense of music” (Edward Balcerzan, “Wstęp,” in Jas., Upms LVIII; emphasis added). See also Stephen R. Lee, Trudne przymierze. Polska awangarda poetycka w kręgu idei lewicy (1918–​1939), Warszawa 1982, 45. 132 The urban symbolism of “Syntezja” is definitely closer to Baudelaire’s imagery than to the Decadent texts by Tetmajer or Kasprowicz. The poem is partly derivative but its novelty (in Polish literature at least) consists in describing the city in a symbolist and naturalist manner. Remarks on the text by Jasieński can be read in the context of Friedrich’s comments about Baudelaire: “In his lyrics, the dissonant images of the big city are extremely intense. They join the gaslight and evening sky, the fragrance of flowers and the reek of tar; they are filled with desire and lament, contrasting with the sweeping oscillation of the verses. Extracted from banality, like drugs from toxic plants, the images are poetically transmuted into antidotes for ‘the vice of banality.’ The repulsive is joined to the nobility of sound, acquiring the ‘galvanic shudder’ (frisson galvanique) … Dusty windows with traces of rain; gray, washed-​out facades; the venomous green of metals; dawn as a dirty For Author use only Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic 103 C. Changes in orchestration, changes in meaning Among the poems written by Polish Futurists a special place of interest is held by ones that go beyond the practices of Young Poland, both in terms of instrumentation and the development of meaning, nevertheless retaining a strong connection with the style of the predecessors. Consider another poem bearing a musical title: Czyżewski’s “Melodia tłumu” [Melody of the crowd]: Alfonsy panny Uliczni hołysze Tramwaj omnibus auto Dzwonią we wszystkie klawisze ha ha W barze jedli już sandwich Pili kawę i whisky Przynoszą nowe półmiski Bulwarem płynie rzeka W kawiarni Zielony flet Pierś kobiety Attention Kastaniety Czerwone kręgi dreszcze Podniety Nerwowe światła Kinkiety Oczy Dłonie Myśli bez twarzy zimń kurytarzy Klaskające okna Telefon Winda na gumie niepokój lęk Szukanie kogoś W TŁUMIE [Pimps girls Street pariahs Tram omnibus automobile splotch; the animal sleep of prostitutes; the roar of busses; faces without lips; old hags; brass bands; eyeballs soaked in gall; stale perfumes: these are some of the contents of the ‘galvanized’ modernity” (Hugo Friedrich, The Structure of Modern Poetry, Evanston 1974, 26). For Author use only 104 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland Ring all keys Ha ha Already ate a sandwich at a bar Drank coffee and whisky New dishes keep arriving A river flows down the embankment At a café A green flute Woman’s breast Attention Castanets Red circles shivers Thrills Nervous lights Wall lamps Eyes Hands Thoughts faceless cold corridors Clapping windows Telephone Elevator on a rubber anxiety fear Searching for someone IN THE CROWD] (Czyż., Pipd 53–​54) Intriguingly, the above poem is stylistically hybrid. It contains many hallmarks of Young Poland aesthetics –​e.g. musical references (keyboard, flute, castanets) and themes such as “thrills” and “women’s breast.” Still, many lines feature lexemes freed from syntactic limitations, e.g. juxtaposed nouns, visually distinguished through large spaces: “Pimps girls,” “Tram omnibus automobile,” “Eyes Hands Thoughts,” “anxiety fear.”133 The implementation of Marinetti’s method clearly lends the poem greater dynamism. Moreover, the Young Poland “flutes and castanets” as well as defamiliarizing foreign words like “Attention” sit right next to iconoclastic “pimps” and words related to urban life (in some cases difficult to pronounce): “omnibus,” “automobile,” “tram,” “sandwich,” “telephone,” “elevator.” In certain places, the text verges on absurdity134 (“clapping windows,” “tram omnibus automobile /​Ring all keys”). The entire composition oscillates between gravity, humour and grotesque. 133 See Zbigniew Jarosiński, Postacie poezji, Warszawa 1985, 47–​8. 134 Sobieraj writes in this context of the buffo convention. See Sławomir Sobieraj, Laboratorium awangardy. O twórczości literackiej Tytusa Czyżewskiego, Siedlce 2009, 164. For Author use only Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic 105 Illustration 3. Initial spread of the volume Zielone oko. Poezje formistyczne. Elektryczne wizje [Green eye. Formist poems. Electric visions], Kraków 1920, including several poems transforming and transgressing Young Poland’s poetics of sound Furthermore, the instrumentation turns out to be stylistically hybrid as well. Apart from onomatopoeias that contradict the Young Poland convention (proper ones: “ha ha”), there are also surprising irregular rhymes. Both in terms of structure and semantics, the text seems to be suspended between two epochs: it utilizes elements of Young Poland poetics, but clearly goes beyond them, creating a new and original whole that certainly does not blindly follow the tradition. In this context, we should analyse a passage from Jasieński’s “Miasto (Syntezja)” [City (Synthesia)]: Bębni po ceracie woda. Raz… raz… pach-​pach-​pach… raz… Woda… Eh, czas!! … Bębni, bębni po ceracie woda. Brzęczy cicho podwiązany pałasz. Deszcz… deszcz… deszcz… po butach chlupie… … Z dalekiego czarnego zaułka Zawarczało –​zadudniło –​zajękło. … For Author use only 106 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland Z czarnego gardła ulicy, Z samego spektrum Z sykiem rozdarł ciemności Żółty reflektor. Szeleści woda. Wicher powiał. Pędzi karetka pogotowia. Wymościła światłem drogę. Widno… Pędzi cicho, bez szelestu. Węszy po ulicach, Jak widmo. Gdzie?.. Gdzie?.. Może tu?.. Tuu –​tuu –​tuu… … Zimny deszcz. Sina rzeka. Woda. Jęczy. Bulgocze. Narzeka. … Płacze, beczy harmonia z daleka. Przyśpiewuje. –​Poszła dziewucha do miasta. –​ Um-​ta-​ta. Um-​ta-​tà-​ta-​ta. –​Powróciła brzuchata. –​ Um-​ta. Um-​ta. Um-​ta-​ta-​ta. –​Oj ty wodo, wodo czarna, –​Śmiertelne kochanie. –​Oj przytulisz ty mnie, wodo, –​Na ostatnie spanie! –​ Um-​ta. Um-​ta. Um-​ta-​ta-​tà. –​Na ostatnie spanie… … Deszcz tnie miarowy. W szyby woda pluje. … Ciemno. Cicho. Czarno. Nikt się nie ozwie, nie zbudzi. Pracuje, pracuje w nocy MIASTO –​FABRYKA LUDZI. [Water is drumming on the plastic cloth. For Author use only Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic One… one… bam-​bam-​bam… one… Water… Eh, time!! … Water is drumming, drumming on the plastic cloth. The strapped broadsword is rattling quietly. Rain… rain… rain… is splashing on shoes… … From a distant black corner Whirr –​rumble –​whine. … From the black throat of the street, From the spectrum itself Darkness was torn with a hiss By a yellow headlight The water is rustling. A gust of wind. An ambulance is speeding. It lined the road with light. Bright… Rushes silently, noiselessly. Sniffing in the streets, Like a phantom. Where?.. Where?.. Here perhaps?.. toot –​toot –​toot… … Cold rain. Cold-​blue river. Water. Moans. Bubbles. Complains. … From afar harmony is wailing, sobbing. Singing along. –​A girl went into the city. –​ Um-​ta-​ta. Um-​ta-​tà-​ta-​ta. –​She returned with a bun in the oven. –​ Um-​ta. Um-​ta. Um-​ta-​ta-​ta. –​Oh, you water, black water. –​Deadly dear. –​Oh, you will embrace me, water, –​For my last sleep! –​ Um-​ta. Um-​ta. Um-​ta-​ta-​tà. For Author use only 107 108 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland –​For my last sleep! … Rain is slanting down regularly. Water is spitting into the windows. … Darkness. Silence. All black. Nobody speaks a word, nobody wakes. It is working, working in the night CITY –​THE PEOPLE FACTORY.] (Jas., Upms 62–​71) Helena Zaworska observes that in this text “synaesthesia is chatty, monotonous, full of stunning brutalism and cheap lyricism.”135 In short, the poem exhibits the “Young Poland epigonic tradition of naturalism and expressionism.”136 Indeed, although many features of the poem’s aesthetics resemble aspects of writing from the turn of the century (atmosphericity, symbolism, heterogenous versification), “Syntezja” is not straightforwardly derivative. It may not be entirely innovative, and we should note that it enters a dialogue with Young Poland aesthetics.137 This dialogic character can be traced for example in its phonostylistics. The poem contains many onomatopoeic expressions, both high, lyrical ones (e.g. “rustle,” “swoosh”) and common, naturalistic ones (“rattling,” “splashing,” “whirr,” “bubble”). Both kinds are nothing new from the perspective of Young Poland. Novelty is introduced through previously absent proper onomatopoeic as (“pach-​pach-​pach” [bam-​bam-​bam]; “tuu-​tuu-​tuu” [toot-​toot-​toot], which can be also read in Polish as a triple repetition of the word “here” [tu]). Accompanied by the prosaic character of colloquial words such as “splash” and “bubble,” they perfectly underline something new in Polish literature: an aesthetic marked by turpism and urbanism. Suffice it to juxtapose one of the most famous lines of the Young Poland poetry “O szyby deszcz dzwoni, deszcz dzwoni jesienny”138 [Rain is drumming on the windows, an autumn rain] with Jasieński’s „Bębni po ceracie [!]‌woda. /​Raz… raz… pach-​pach-​pach… raz” [“Water is drumming on the plastic cloth [!]. /​One… one… bam-​bam-​bam… one”]. Another signal that indicates the overcoming of a stylistic that was fading away at that time is dismantling syntactic structures, or introducing outright syntactic chaos (e.g. ambiguities and exclamations like “Water… /​Ah, time!!”). Approximating the aesthetics of “words-​in-​freedom,” Jasieński also assembles lists of verbs that are syntactically disjointed yet related in terms of sound (through alliteration and grammatical rhymes) and semantics: “Zawarczało –​ zadudniło –​ zajękło;” “Jęczy. 135 136 137 138 Zaworska, “Przemiany polskiego futuryzmu,” 361. Zaworska, “Przemiany polskiego futuryzmu,” 361. Cf. the remarks in this section on the affinities between “ZemBY” and Baudelaire (111). Refrain from Leopold Staff’s poem “Deszcz jesienny” [Autumn rain]. For Author use only Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic 109 Bulgocze. Narzeka.” Another surprising passage is the one stylized to resemble a folk song. Organized around repetition of words and lines, it features echolalic sequences of sounds, semantically unbound, which are typical of peasant songs. Unique in the context of the entire poem, this passage appears to be a phonically distinct folk-​like interlude. In contrast, Young Poland poetry would never mix, in a single text, “high,” symbolist register and simple, partially echolalic folk song.139 The heterogenous character of the poem “Miasto” is further confirmed by another passage that refers –​in a more perverse, humorous, “salon” manner –​to folk tradition, employing parallel structures and numerous exclamations: Jak grywałem ja ci, Stasiu, Griega, Musorgskiego, Powiedziałeś ty mi, Stasiu, –​Nie klej naiwnego. –​ Oj, Stasiu, Stasiu, Nie klej naiwnego. [I used to play to you, Staś, Grieg, Mussorgsky, And you told me, Staś, –​Don’t act like you’re so gullible. –​ Oh, Staś, Staś, Don’t act like you’re so gullible.] (Jas., Upms 64) This passage is also indicative of overcoming the poetics of Young Poland: older poetry –​atmospherically homogenous, verbose, and grave with regard to any manifestation of spleen –​is supplemented with jokes, frivolity and liveliness (short lines with many repetitions). Interesting instances of a dialogue with Young Poland aesthetics can be also found in poems by Młodożeniec, for example in “Noc” [Night]: –​–​–​–​na granatową niebios balię wypłynął księżyc –​jak rogalik –​ gwiazdy tlą –​ jak rybki skaczą po akwarium –​ –​–​–​daleki –​długi –​(czyj to?) ton w leżące lgnie milczenie –​ gwiazdy tlą –​ i płoszą płaski cień na ziemi –​ 139 See also the analyses of Słowo o Jakubie Szeli by Jasieński in the fourth section of Chapter Four. For Author use only 110 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland mętnieje wody srebrna toń –​ ciemnieje nieba drżące tło –​ rogaty księżyc chmurę bodzie –​ gwiazdy tlą –​ oczy tlą –​ –​daleki –​długi –​(czyj to?) ton –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ to czyjeś usta –​cichy podziw –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ o! [–​–​–​–​on the dark blue tub of heavens the moon swam up –​like a crescent roll –​ the stars flicker –​ dancing like fish in an aquarium –​ –​–​–​a distant –​long –​(whose?) tone takes to a reclining silence the stars flicker and frighten away the flat shadow on earth –​ the silver depths of water grow murky the trembling background of the sky darkens the horned moon is jabbing a cloud the stars flicker – the eyes flicker – –​a distant –​long –​(whose?) tone –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ these are somebody’s lips –​silent awe –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ o!] (Młodoż., Up 79) As typography demonstrates already at first glance, this poem does not merely copy conventions from the turn of the century. Still, it has many characteristics of symbolist works. Its imagery includes elements such as the moon, shadows, “flickering” stars, darkening sky, murky “silver depths of water.” Musical obscurity is emphasized through words and phrases like “distant long tone” and “silence.” However, seriousness is undermined in the very first stanza, in which the moon –​ a fundamental component of Young Poland imagery –​is diminutively compared to a crescent roll. Furthermore, stars are likened to small fish jumping in an aquarium –​a theme unknown to turn-​of-​the-​century poetry. Changes are also discernible in the text’s sonic dimension. Apart from typically turn-​of-​the-​century repetitions of lexemes, phrases and lines (e.g. “flicker,” “stars flicker”), alliteration and assonance (e.g. “w leżące lgnie milczenie”) and paronomasia (though this device is rare in Young Poland lyricism) (“toń” –​“ton” –​“tło;” “leżące” –​“lgnie”), the poem employs devices that combine attention to sound with typographical experimentation. One line that appears interesting from this For Author use only Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic 111 perspective is “–​–​–​daleki –​długi –​(czyj to?) ton” [–​–​–​a distant –​long –​ (whose?) tone]; it departs from the prolix Young Poland syntax and is more elliptical and associative. Lexemes deprived of additional specification and “emphasized” through typographical arrangement, become a crucial component of the text. What draws attention is the strong alliteration, consonance and assonance (not only repetition of “d,” “t,” “o,” “i,” but also proximity of glottal stops “k” and “g”). Although the line has meanings that are typical of symbolist lyricism, its form and syntax far exceed this convention. The remoteness of the “distant tone” and its fading in space are additionally underscored by a simple typographical device (enforcing a longer pause –​also a sound-​related signal), which consists of filling two entire lines with hyphens. The exclamation “o!” at the end is also a transgression of literary canons of the period. In earlier poetry exclamations would usually appear at the beginning of lines, before phrases that supplement meanings; on the other hand, in folk songs elements like “hey!” or “u-​ha!” would strongly emphasize preceding phrases. In this case, however, the clear sound signal is located at the end of a row of hyphens. This unusual figure concludes a composition strongly marked by obliqueness and situated at the boundary between Young Poland tradition and avant-​garde innovation. Another poem by Młodożeniec –​“Iks” [X]‌–​can be interpreted similarly. –​–​odwrócone –​odeszłe twarze –​–​ Przeszłośc ́ –​ Krzyż korytarze, gdzie lampy zgasły –​–​i huczą romantyczne sowy –​–​ We wnękach cienie drzwi i okien malutka mysz –​bez głowy prawie –​ a ogon ciężki –​długi –​szeroki –​pAwi –​ Teraz —​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​ trzymam ster nad bezgłowym gadem –​ marą ogoniastą –​–​ oczy wytężam –​latarnie —​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​ Teraz –​ puls –​i skok –​ w Przyszłość jadę –​ w miasto “X” z milionem zer –​ —​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​ tunele labirynt twarzy —​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​ okola złote niespodzianek i Ty –​ w zaułkach marzeń For Author use only 112 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland pod księżycami czekasz na przystanku –​ kwan –​kliki –​dlin –​dlamy –​ tony –​–​wołania. Do bram zamkniętych grzmot zakołatał –​ –​cyt –​ śpiewa i płacze i kwili i płacze i śpiewa zamorusane niemowlę –​ o nieforemnych przyszłości kwadratach.140 [–​–​turned away –​departed faces –​–​ Past –​ Cross corridors, where the lamps were turned off –​–​and romantic owls hoot –​–​ Shadows of doors and windows in alcoves a tiny mouse –​almost headless –​ her tail heavy –​long –​broad –​like a peAcock’s – Now —​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​ I hold the helm over the headless reptile a tailed apparition I look hard –​the lamps —​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​ Now –​ pulse –​and jump –​ I ride into the Future into the city “X” with a million zeroes ​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​ tunnels —​—​—​—​— a labyrinth of faces —​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​—​ golden circles of surprises and You –​ in backstreets of dreams under the moon you wait at a stop kwan –​clicks –​dlin –​dlamas –​ tones –​–​calls. Thunder knocked on the closed gates –​shush –​ 140 Stanisław Młodożeniec, Kwadraty, Zamość 1925, 22–​3. The version reprinted in Utwory poetyckie (Młodoż., Up 85–​6) lacks several elements of graphic design that are important (also from the perspective of phonostylistics). There is no spacing before the last line, several dashes are missing and “cyt” is not set in smaller font. For Author use only Creative development of Young Poland sound aesthetic 113 sings and cries and weeps and cries and sings a dirty baby about the shapeless squares of the future.] Apart from themes characteristic for turn-​ of-​ the-​ century art (owls, crosses, shadows, “tailed apparition,” “golden circles,” the moon) and numerous typically Young Poland instrumentation techniques (alliteration and assonance, e.g. “odwrócone –​ odeszłe”) as well as onomatopoeic words from main lexical categories (“thunder,” “weep,” “hoot”), the poem employs devices and themes that seem to contradict the above. Let us investigate such “balancing” efforts, especially because they are interestingly reflected in the text’s meaning. The first two stanzas offer a vision of the departing symbolist past, constructed with the aforementioned symbolist means of expression. The horrible “tailed apparition” that lurks in dark corridors, among the shadows and crosses, turns out to be a small-​headed mouse (though with an attached peacock tail). After this grotesque account of the past, the “Now” begins, opening a path to the “Future.” Young Poland atmosphericity is distorted by the dynamic, monosyllabic, syntactically detached nouns “pulse” and “jump.” Equally ultra-​modern is the “city ‘X’ with a million zeroes.” Thus, Młodożeniec balances “symbolist orthodoxy” with open mockery of the traditional style. The Young Poland tone is re-​introduced by “backstreets of dreams” and waiting “under the moon;” however, it is immediately undermined by the information that one is waiting at a stop. The symbolist mood is also betrayed by the concluding “dirty baby” and “shapeless squares of the future.” Onomatopoeic words are also interestingly levelled: “thunders,” “weep,” and “hoot” are balanced with hitherto unseen (unheard) onomatopoeic words of unclear reference: “kwan –​ kliki –​dlin –​dlamy.” Doubts arise already regarding the possible identification of these words as onomatopoeic. It nevertheless seems that if these mysterious words appear just before “tones –​–​calls” they can be treated as specific, “urban” onomatopoeic words, not just instances of echolalia or glossolalia. One important change with regard to turn-​of-​the-​century poetics consists in the poem’s visual design –​numerous hyphens and lines affect the poem’s reception, often emphasising certain phonic correspondences (e.g. the epithets listed after hyphens in the first and second stanza, or the visually distinguished lexical repetitions that clearly frame the third stanza). Importantly, although this was not preserved in later reprints of the poem, the “shush” that silences the violent sounds is typeset using a smaller, “muffled” font. Silences, ellipses and an associative character favour abandoning any syntactic prolixity, bringing the poem close to the poetics of parole in libertà. “Iks” is an intriguing poetic hybrid that perfectly utilizes the tension between Young Poland poetics and avant-​garde innovation. Analyses confirm that poetic composition techniques developed at the turn of the nineteenth and twentieth century were variously continued by Polish Futurists, who would not entirely reject them but rather adapt and transform to suit their needs and express meanings unknown to Young Poland. These texts are not parodistic, yet they cannot be also called “modified” pastiches. Janusz Sławiński argues that, For Author use only 114 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland generally speaking, we understand pastiche as the kind of imitation that retains far-​ reaching loyalty to the principles that gave birth to a particular style.141 It might seem that this definition perfectly captures the relations between poems discussed here and the style of Young Poland. Still, pastiche has its limitations. … It cannot apply to styles deemed “natural” in a given cultural context, i.e. styles that do not oppose any living convention or one broadly regarded as befitting certain genres.142 The present analysis calls the symbolist style “traditional” or related to Young Poland aesthetics. However, when the discussed poems were being written, symbolist poetics was regarded as outdated only by a handful of young writers whose own literary decisions would be often inconsistent. The beginning of the interwar period was a time when the Young Poland style was seen by many as natural; not to mention it was well rooted in literature and audience tastes. The Futuristic “innovative continuation” of Young Poland aesthetics is thus a “thoughtful” and “docile”143 modification of earlier poetics, which cannot be viewed as a pastiche due to the liveliness of the latter. 4. P  olemical stylization144 The last group of analysed poems consists of texts that can be considered as almost parodistic in their polemic with turn-​of-​the-​century poetics. This section discusses two fundamental, strongly phonostylistic strategies of the Futurists. 141 Janusz Sławiński, “Poetyka pastiszu,” in Przypadki poezji, ed. W. Bolecki, Kraków 2001, 281. 142 Janusz Sławiński, “Poetyka pastiszu,” 288. Sławiński adds (the text was originally published in 1960): “For example, currently (still) the prose of Dąbrowska and poems by Słonimski. In both cases it is difficult to imagine pastiche. I mean styles that have not become a mannerism but are already a convention, and one that is quite lively. They constitute, as it were, the stylistic norm recognized by the general public (not an avant-​garde one) and judged as the mode of literary communication that is most suitable in a given genre. Pastiche deals either with styles that are ‘closed’ (and thus manneristic) or with styles that are in some sense opposed to what is regarded as the norm at a certain time, ones employing devices visibly different from the currently vital (yet already petrified) artistic and literary preferences.” 143 Janusz Sławiński, “Poetyka pastiszu,” 281. 144 The term appears in the following article: Stanisław Balbus “Stylizacja i zjawiska pokrewne” Pamiętnik Literacki 2 (1983), 133–​63. However, it is used there to refer to the textual situation in which it is not the stylization pattern that is questioned but the “modern attempt at the restitution of” a certain literary tradition (161). I propose a different understanding of the term. See also Stanisław Balbus, Między stylami, Kraków 1996, 347–​56. For Author use only Polemical stylization 115 A. C  hanges in the poetics of sound, changes in semantics Analysis can begin with two poems that contrarily revisit both Young Poland sound aesthetics and symbolist semantics. Consider a passage from “Otchłań” [Abyss] by Młodożeniec: Strach –​gra –​–​ Gra kolorami tęczowego oka… Hi –​hi –​ głos proroka… Mowy rozpowiada –​ kaskada –​ co spada –​ i brylanci się –​ i galanci się –​ paw pysznopióry –​ kaskada –​ co spada –​ z góry –​w staw… Toń –​ pękł dzwon –​jękł dźwięk –​ muzyka sfer na przestroni aa –​aa –​aa –​aa –​aa –​–​–​–​–​ą –​–​–​–​–​–​–​ z mosiężnych blach –​strach –​ wrzaski trąb –​ triumfalny pochód cieni szuwarami zaseplenił –​ … koła –​koła –​paralele –​ smuga –​ –​ długa rogi –​ –​ jeleń postać –​ –​ kusa z buzią –​ –​papuzią hi –​hi! hi –​hi! nad otchłanią woła… [Fear –​plays –​–​ Plays with colours of the rainbow eye… Ha –​ha the prophet’s voice… Is putting words around –​ cascade –​ that falls –​ For Author use only 116 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland and diamonds itself and gallants itself a haughty-​feathered peacock cascade –​ that falls –​ from above –​into the pond… The depths –​ the bell broke –​the sound moaned –​ music of the spheres in the expanse aa –​aa –​aa –​aa –​aa –​–​–​–​–​ą –​–​–​–​–​–​–​ from brass sheets –​fear –​ shrieks of trumpets the triumphant march of shadows lisped with rushes … circles –​circles –​parallels –​ streak –​ –​long antlers –​ –​ deer ­figure –​ –​skimpy with the face –​–​of a parrot ha –​ha! ha –​ha! cries over the abyss…] (Młodoż., Up 171–​172)145 Aside from elements that clearly invoke Young Poland aesthetics, the poem contains words and structures that modify or even negate it. This analysis first considers the passage beginning with the word “depths” and ending with the line containing only the letter “ą.” Skubalanka commented on this passage thus: “On the example of … a passage from a poem by Młodożeniec we may clearly see how the repertoire of euphonic effects used by Young Poland poets was expanded.”146 Apart from onomatopoeic words like “pękł” [broke] and “jękł” [moaned] as well 145 The first version, published in Jednodńuwka futurystuw (Kraków 1921, [pages unnumbered]), differs from the later version (quoted here) printed in Futuro-​gamy (1933, dated 1934). The original version contains for example the twice repeated phrase, featuring assonance: “hodzą koła dookoła kuł,” but lacks (among other elements) lines with isolated vowels. Following Jarosiński and Zaworska (Ant. 196–​198) the version quoted here is the later one changed by the author (cf. fn. 29 in Introduction). However, I must ascertain that it is not true that “there are only slight differences between the original version and the book version” (Burek, “Przypisy,” 506). 146 Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna,” 8. For Author use only Polemical stylization 117 as “dźwięk” [sound], which can be regarded as such (albeit more arbitrary in this case),147 there are also clear assonances. The vowel-​related specificity of this text is further emphasized by the isolated and visually distinct letter “ą” and the preceding tenfold repetition of “a” typeset in five pairs separated with hyphens. The pattern of vowels in this poem can be summarized as follows: Toń –​ pękł dzwon –​jękł dźwięk –​ muzyka sfer na przestroni aa –​aa –​aa –​aa –​aa –​–​–​–​–​ą –​–​–​–​–​–​–​ o ęoęę uyae aeoi aa aa aa aa aa ą Apart from conventional euphonic means, Młodożeniec introduces his own method.148 Instead of finding lexemes containing the resonant, sonorous sounds “a” and “ą”149 he uses the isolated sounds themselves.150 The desired phonic ele­­ ment is thus included in the poem in the most direct manner possible, without any mediation of semantic sound carriers: words. The “echoey” resonance in space is further emphasized by the intriguing arrangement of hyphens. Aside from strings of vowels introduced in ways alien to turn-​of-​the-​century poetry, the discussed passage perfectly matches the Young Poland model of oblique “musicality” (with a surprising arsenal of traditional means: bell, moan, depth and the music of the spheres). Overcoming conventions works well in the text as a whole. Młodożeniec juggles symbolist themes (cascades, peacock, pond, march of shadows, etc.) and combines them with colloquialisms, using banal rhymes as linking devices, developing configurations verging on ridiculousness. What draws attention here is the flippant, onomatopoeic passage “triumfalny pochód cieni /​szuwarami zaseplenił” [the triumphant march of shadows /​lisped with rushes]; “wrzaski trąb” [shrieking trumpets] that violate Young Poland decorum; doggerel rhymes based on 147 Cf. the first section of this chapter (65–​6). 148 From the perspective of traditional poetics, the text by Młodożeniec is far from euphony; see Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 61–​93. 149 Vowels are the most sonorous sounds –​during their articulation nothing impedes the flow of air in the voice channel (John R. Taylor, “Kategorie prototypowe w fonologii,” in Kategoryzacja w języku. Prototypy w teorii językoznawczej, trans. A. Skucińska, Kraków 2001, 315). Taylor defines the order of sonority from higher to lower as follows: “low vowels > high vowels > glides > liquids > nasals > fricatives > blocks” (316). The sounds “a” and “ą,” which Młodożeniec particularly foregrounds are low vowels –​the most sonorous sounds in Polish. 150 The device seems close to the hypersemantization of Futurist texts, as described by Skubalanka, which consists in full recognition of numbers or unarticulated sounds as meaningful textual elements (Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna,” 3). For Author use only 118 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland neologisms, the second of which is derived from the colloquial and ironic word “galant” [gallant]: “I brylanci się –​/​I galanci się –​/​paw pysznopióry –​”[and diamonds itself /​and gallants itself /​a haughty-​feathered peacock]. Equally surprising are the distinct consonantal151 masculine rhyme “z mosiężnych blach –​strach” [from brass sheets –​fear] or the mocking observation containing a proper onomatopoeia alien to Young Poland: “hi hi głos proroka” [ha ha the prophet’s voice]. The supposed continuation of Young Poland aesthetics turns out to be a ludic parody of symbolism. Now let us refer to a poem by Jerzy Jankowski, a poet whose work heralds Polish Futurism.152 Overcoming traditional poetics by this author, who was still strongly tied to turn-​of-​the-​century lyricism, seems particularly symptomatic. Consider a passage from “Pogżeb duszy” [Funeral of the soul; title purposefully misspelt]: 1. –​Długo tej nocy szczekał pies nad ranem jął wyć. Co się̨ tu stało? –​Nic… Skonała Dusza moja, odeszła biała męczennica na Anafielas. Miała na głowie wianek z ruty lilii i tymianka… Gdy pies po niej przestał wyć, zacząłem wyć… ja sam. 2. –​Rozedżyjcie płaczki suknię zgżebną, Poczynajcie nam nucić pieśń pogżebną: Dam dam dali dam Dam dam dali dam153 [1. –​The dog barked long in the night and began to howl in the morning. What happened here? –​Nothing… My Soul died, the white martyr departed to Anafielas. 151 In the poetry of Young Poland masculine rhymes are relatively uncommon (though they are not extremely rare –​see Pszczołowska, Wiersz polski, 295–​6), but they would not appear as close to each other as in the text by Młodożeniec. Moreover, the rhyme pattern in “Otchłań” does not match the Young Poland tendency to rhyme open syllables (ibidem; still, in Polish, single-​syllable words used in masculine rhymes usually end with a consonant). 152 See Introduction, 15–​16. 153 Jerzy Jankowski, Rytmy miasta, ed. A. K. Waśkiewicz, Warszawa 1972, 26. For Author use only Polemical stylization 119 She had a chaplet on her head from rues, lilies and thyme… When the dog stopped howling after her, I began to howl myself. 2. –​Let the mourners tear the coarse gowns Start singing a funeral song to us: Dam dam dali dam Dam dam dali dam] The Young Poland theme is treated with great liberty here, which manifests not only in the text’s visual dimension154 but also in terms of its sound composition. Strongly alliterative –​especially in lines “Rozedżyjcie płaczki suknię zgżebną, /​ Poczynajcie nam nucić pieśń pogżebną” –​the poem also contains lexemes and phrases typical of the atmospheric style of Young Poland, which cherishes “poetic resonances” and phonic curiosities (“Skonała Dusza moja” [My Soul died], “odeszła biała męczennica /​na Anafielas” [the white martyr departed /​to Anafielas], “suknia zgżebna” [coarse gown], “pieśń pogżebna” [funeral song]). Convention is broken, however, by both the onomatopoeic phrase –​“unbefitting” the tragic situation of the lyrical subject –​and the ludic, Dadaist, asemantic tone, incompatible with the promise of a funerary song. Baranowska argues that the “I” howling “like a dog” is unbecoming of man and would be regarded by modernists [poets of Young Poland] as reserved for winds or damned souls. The “funeral of the soul” is described with “somebody else’s language,” which –​despite being treated seriously –​in certain places reveals … the seams of parody.155 An entirely new way of transcending Young Poland style can be identified in the intricate poem “Pereł” [Pearls] by Anatol Stern: Carmen karmin warg zżarzyła wkrąg –​ W kastaniet klaszcze rąk. I hasa Eros, rosa skrzy się̨ –​–​Kolan róż I słońcowy wściekle słodki z stali tasak I mgławość mlecznych pełnych pereł kruż. [Carmen kindled her crimson lips into an O –​ And claps the hands of castanets. Eros 154 See Baranowska, “Trans czytającego młodzieńca,” 212. 155 Baranowska, “Trans czytającego młodzieńca,” 214. The scholar adds: “The soul retreats to the old-​Latvian Anafielas, known from the erudite long poem by Kraszewski under this title. Her garland has its origin in Mickiewicz’s romance Dudarz and was in turn admittedly borrowed from Tomasz Zan … Mourning after the soul refers to Kasprowicz. In this way, Jankowski’s poem reveals, step by step, a library of the imagination that the poets of the 1920s inherited from the modernists [the originators of Young Poland]” (214–​5). For Author use only 120 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland Is prancing, while dew sparkles –​–​Pink knees And the sun’s frenziedly sweet steel cleaver And nebular, milky goblets full of pearls.] (Ant. 203) Young Poland is usually associated with semantic ambiguities, themes like dance and typically poeticized symbolist passages like “nebular, milky goblets full of pearls.” However, the poem turns out to be surprising in terms of both its phonic structure and heterogenous web of meanings. It glimmers with special sound effects, including homophonising consonance and assonance (e.g. “hasa /​Eros, rosa”), onomatopoeia (“klaszcze” [claps]), paronomasia (parechesis: “Carmen karmin” and acoustic correspondences between the lexemes “warg,” “wkrąg,” “rąk;” and, “Eros,” “rosa”), irregular internal rhymes156 (“wkrąg” –​“rąk”), anaphora (last two lines). Dense orchestration causes the poem to be difficult in terms of articulation, thus becoming a sharp, futuristic “stab in the ear.” The first four lines can be likened to classic tongue-​twisters (e.g. “Król Karol kupił królowej Karolinie”) in which amassed sounds of identical or very close manner of articulation make it almost impossible to read the text loud and clear without effort. Paradoxically, in Stern’s poem the numerous sound repetitions –​typical of Young Poland –​help to overcome the turn-​of-​the-​century prolixity by segmenting sentences into lexemes that are difficult to read. Stern did not have to experiment with syntax –​the text collapses due to its own sound structure. The sound devices used here were known to previous poetics157 but what astonishes in this Futurist text is their intensity and semantics (additionally emphasized by phonic distinctiveness), especially in heavily orchestrated lines (the ludic, iconoclastic “Eros /​is prancing” or the “pink knees,” overly literal from the perspective of Young Poland poetics). Parodistic undermining of stereotypes bases not only on shocking juxtapositions of meanings158 or a certain absurd char­ acter and Bacchic liveliness imbued in the imagery. What seems crucial in this respect is the use –​or even abuse –​of devices associated with a poetics considered anachronistic. In another poem Stern refers to the parodied style through instrumentation and the introduction of oriental themes characteristic for turn-​of-​the-​century poetry. One fabulous example is the imitative parody of the Young Poland praise of ex Oriente lux found in “Chiński bożek (ja sam)” [Chinese idol (myself)]: Rozwachlarzyły się̨ tysiącokie pawiole, Kolibri by jak szmaragd lśni nad źródła wodą –​ 156 See Okopień-​Sławińska, “Pomysły do teorii wiersza współczesnego,” 182–​3. 157 Pseudo-​etymology was relatively rare in it; apart from this, all techniques used by the poet are devices frequently encountered in Young Poland works. 158 See Jan Pieszczachowicz, Wygnaniec w labiryncie XX wieku. Poetyckie rodowody z dwudziestolecia, Kraków 1994, 30. For Author use only Polemical stylization 121 Pod porcelanową srebrniedźwięczną pagodą Z zadumą arkadyjską na cichym trwam czole. Wokół mnie na palcach suną żółci bonzowie Dmący w harmoniki –​dźwięczą blachy, tympany –​ Kołysany w takt dzwonów domku z porcelany Drga święty kosmyk włosów na łysej mej głowie. Jak soczyste dziewczynki ciążą mandarynki Przez leniwych bonzów zrywane w pstrym nastroju –​ Oczy swe laleczkami pieszczę w lekkim stroju Wśród dymów kadzideł kurzonych mi przez chinki. (Fi, ten pisk z podwórka kulawej katarynki!) [The thousand-​eyed peacocks spread their fans, Hummingbirds shine like emeralds over the spring Under the porcelain, silver-​sounding pagoda With Arcadian pensiveness on my forehead, I stand by. Around me bonzes glide on tiptoe in yellow Blowing harmonies –​brasses and drums resound Swayed to the music of bells from porcelain houses A holy lock of hair twitches on my bald head. Tangerines weigh down like juicy girls Plucked by lazy mandarins in sundry moods –​ I caress my eyes with lightly-​dressed dolls In clouds of incense burned by Chinese women. (Phee, this squeal of a wobbly hurdy-​gurdy coming from the yard!)] (Stern, Wz 41) The poem employs turn-​ of-​ the-​ century themes: oriental motifs and elements such as emeralds, (water) spring, pensiveness. It is also full of musical expressions (“silver-​sounding,” “the music of bells,” “harmonies”), alliterations, assonances and consonances (also deeper ones, e.g. “laleczki” –​“lekkim,” or deeper and inverted ones: “kurzonych” –​“chinki”), synaesthesias (“sundry moods,” “silver-​sounding pagoda”), words that are less frequent in everyday speech or ones of unusual sound (including ones also containing assonances: “rozwachlarzyły się tysiącokie pawiole,” “zadumą arkadyjską”). Young Poland poetics also surfaces through the use of full, regular rhymes. In the first three stanzas the polemic with Young Poland is conducted not in the sphere of instrumentation devices, which clearly reveal their symbolist provenance, but primarily in terms of semantics. Mockery of lofty and orientalist Young Poland aesthetics can be identified in phrases like “bonzes gliding on tiptoe in yellow” or “holy lock of hair twitching on my bald head” as well as in paronomastic descriptions of women portrayed as “lightly-​dressed dolls” and in the For Author use only 122 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland internally-​rhyming iconoclastic comparison “tangerines weigh down like juicy girls.” Of particular interest is the poem’s last line, Ih justifies analysing the text in this section. Orchestration and semantics clearly work together in this ironic punchline. The onomatopoeia proper “Phi” as well as the onomatopoeic and alliterative phrase “squeal of a wobbly hurdy-​gurdy coming from the yard” –​which clearly contradicts the Young Poland concept of “musicality” –​offer a perfect conclusion to this poem. It introduces another dimension that is far from the oneiric reality of an oriental landscape, which now appears to more like a (day) dream of the lyrical subject who is mocking conventional poetic descriptions.159 For purposes of comparison, it might be rewarding to read Stern’s poem alongside a text that praises women’s attributes and displays the orientalising, musical character of Young Poland: “Z upaniszad” [From the Upanishads] by Franciszek Mirandola: Irysy pachną. Nie! To nie są kwiaty! To pięknych kobiet błąkają się̨ dusze, Czar pełnych szczęścia błąkają się̨ wonie, Od których zadrży nawet grób –​Nirwana. O! bo kobieta to ołtarz Nirwany, Płomień rozkoszy ślizga się̨ po stopniach I w niebyt szczęścia płynie z pocałunkiem –​ Kobieta –​Szczęście –​to ołtarz Nirwany! Wszystko się̨ chwieje pod tchnieniem Samsary, Wszystko usypia na łonie Nirwany –​ Wszystko jest Jedno, a Jedno jest Wszystko! Wszystko jest Bogiem! Bóstw nigdy nie było! [Irises exude. No! these are not flowers! These are the souls of beautiful women, wandering Scents of cups full of happiness wander, They will shake even the grave –​Nirvana. Oh! For woman is the altar of Nirvana, The flame of pleasure slides on the steps And flows into the bliss of non-​being with a kiss Woman –​Happiness –​this is the altar of Nirvana! Everything teeters under the puff of Samsara, Everything falls asleep on the bosom of Nirvana –​ 159 See Erazm Kuźma, “Nurty awangardowe wobec mitu Orientu,” in Mit Orientu i kultury Zachodu, 240; Erazm Kuźma, “Przestrzeń w poezji awangardowej a spójność tekstu,” in Przestrzeń i literatura, eds. M. Głowiński, A. Okopień-​ Sławińska, Wrocław 1978, 277. For Author use only Polemical stylization 123 Everything is One, and One is Everything! Everything is God! There were no gods ever!] (AlMP 315) B. Y  oung Poland orchestration, polemics in the area of semantics This section considers poems that preserve the Young Poland sound aesthetics yet depart from the semantics of turn-​of-​the-​century texts, thus negating the polemically developed, deeply ambiguous “musicality.” In case of poetic debates with predecessors, it is relatively rare for parody to include the dimensions of both sound and meaning (these instances are described above). Probably in order not to blunt the polemical blade, authors would retain Young Poland sound aesthetics, using it as a backdrop for the dismantling of musical meanings characteristic for the previous epoch. One interesting example of such efforts is the poem “Medium” by Tytus Czyżewski, which features imagery that is richly incrusted with sounds: Ciche dźwięki jak rdzawe kwiatów zapachy melodie wyschłych róż które zbitych kruż budzą wspomnienia suną perfidnych mogił mary nocne i strachy idą niemocne krokiem poważnym jak na harfiane cienie przystało mężowie wyniośli wiodą kobiety tlenie miłości safianowe śliczne nikną –​strun i szmerów słyszysz się̇ mało i żyły prądy elektryczne drgania milkną i tony rytmiczne to widziałem ja medium magnetyczne 11 listopada w południe 1914 r. [Quiet sounds like the rust-​coloured smells of flowers melodies of withered roses that evoke memories of broken goblets night apparitions and fears glide from perfidious tombs they walk powerless, solemnly as befits harp shadows haughty husbands lead women flickering beautiful saffian loves they fade –​strings and rustling barely audible and veins electric currents vibrations fade along rhythmical tones this is what I saw, a magnetic medium on 11 November 1914, at noon.] (Czyż., Pipd 95) At first glance this poem may appear to be a typical epigone work imitating Polish symbolism. However, it soon turns out that the poem gathers Young Poland themes (“apparitions,” “tombs,” “melodies,” “fears”), along with various elements picked and arranged in new configurations. In the poem populated with “night apparitions For Author use only 124 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland and fears” as well as full of “quiet sounds” or “strings and rustling,” characteristics of turn-​of-​the-​century poetry are regarded from a parodistic distance. The first two lines suggest a musical piece, stylistically close to symbolism, in which atmospheric “quiet sounds” are accompanied by synesthetic “rust-​coloured scents” and “melodies of roses.” Subsequent lines, however, carry a surprise. Tombs turn out to be “perfidious,” fears march “as befits harp shadows.” Internal rhymes from the second line (“róż” –​“kruż;” “wyschłych” –​“zbitych”) are continued, with subsequent lines containing partial rhymes (uncommon for Young Poland): “wyniośli” –​“miłości;” “śliczne” –​“nikną.” “Visions” are described with a pinch of salt (there is little distance and humour in atmospheric poetry from the turn of the century, or in Futurist texts that would closely follow Young Poland). The final lines feature doggerel rhymes and a punchline (“this is what I saw, a magnetic medium /​on 11 November 1914, at noon”) that is primarily amusing. Although the text appears to continue the aesthetic of predecessors, it also fully reveals a parodistic character. Its sonic dimension is unsurprising and does not indulge in experimentation (perhaps except for imprecise internal rhymes):160 it follows the Young Poland convention, perfectly imitating turn-​of-​the-​century methods of evoking a certain atmosphere through sound. Still, the poem has polemical aims. At this point we should turn towards a startling poem by Stern, which bears the synesthetic title “Karminowe znużenie” [Carmine fatigue]: Leniwo przeciągając się̨ w tym skwarze południa, Szepcę, oczy zmrużywszy, swój własny wiersz lente –​ Lecz spokojne przeżucie godzin mi utrudnia Szkarłatnych róż zapach, które w gors twój wpięte. Licząc twoje rzęsy jedwabiste, długie, Co rzucają cień wonny na moje wzruszenia –​ Słyszę przecież południa pożegnalną fugę, Które miękkim kontralto szepce: do widzenia. Pozwól –​moja droga –​że nim się̨ powieszę Okręciwszy w krąg szyi twego włosa nitkę –​ Przed jedwabną śmiercią nieco tym się̨ pocieszę, Że gwałtownie uszczypnę cię w twą silną łydkę. [Lazily stretching in the noon heat, I whisper, squinting, my own lente poem –​ Still, calm rumination of hours is made difficult By the scarlet scent of roses stuck in your corset 160 See Pszczołowska, Wiersz polski, 295, 297; Okopień-​Sławińska, “Pomysły do teorii wiersza współczesnego,” 182–​3. For Author use only Polemical stylization 125 Counting your eyelashes, long and silky, Which cast a fragrant shadow on my emotions –​ I can hear the farewell fugue of the noon Whispering in a soft contralto: goodbye. Allow –​my dear –​before I hang myself Putting on my neck the noose of your one hair –​ Before silky death let me find a little comfort In suddenly pinching your strong calf.] (Stern, Wz 54) The text uses alliteration, consonance and assonance (most clearly in the second stanza), foreign-​sounding, unusual musicological terms (“contralto,” “fuga” [fugue], “lente”), “soft,” poetic onomatopoeic expressions (“szeptać” [whisper]) and finally synaesthesia (“wonny cień” [fragrant shadow], “karminowe znużenie” [carmine fatigue] and “jedwabna śmierć” [silky death], which verges on synaesthesia). The first semantically unsettling signal comes with the phrase “calm rumination of hours,” although subsequent lines return to Young Poland subtlety. It is only the last stanza, especially the last line, in which the parodistic edge is revealed. The “imitative” poem that would bore anyone seeking innovation ultimately turns out to be a literary joke. The closing line of the text praising the last wish of one who chooses to die out of love completely subverts the eleven preceding lines. An Interesting attempt to move beyond Young Poland poetry is exemplified in Stern’s long poem Nagi człowiek w śródmieściu [Naked man in town centre]. Its polemical potential was not recognized by the author himself, who would view it as traditional and unworthy of Futurist inventiveness.161 Consider several passages from this work: 2 Przy akompaniamencie powolnych stąpań w ciszy płyt, po nocnym trotuarze –​ Rozmowa księżycowa –​sonata z tą z pań która nigdy z nikim nie była w parze. —​ —​ —​ —​ Liście stąpań padają z szelestem. 3 “Słyszysz?” JAR[OSŁAW] IWASZKIEWICZ Mądrze we mnie się̨ patrząc, pieszcząc dłonie swe blade, Harmonijnym głosem szeptała Isold balladę: –​“Granat polanki usiały złote baranki, Lecz zganiają je blade pastuchy –​poranki. 161 Cf. fn. 13 in Introduction. For Author use only 126 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland Prowadzi dziwnie jasny błękit na manowce –​ Błąkają się̨ białe przez wiatry gnane owce. Nic darmo się̨ nie daje zwodzić na rozstaje –​ Miast owiec przyszły czarne brzemienne buhaje. Na czarnych bykach siądźmy ze śmiechem okrakiem –​ Znów zasiał barankami jak płomiennym makiem.” –​ [2 Accompanied by slow steps in the silence of flagstones, on the night paving A moon conversation –​a sonata with the lady who was never a part of a pair. —​ —​ —​ —​ The leaves of footsteps fall rustling. 3 “Can you hear it?” JAR[OSŁAW] IWASZKIEWICZ Looking at me wisely, caressing her pale hands She whispered Isolde’s ballad with a harmonious voice –​“The navy-​blue clearing is dotted with golden lambs But they are chased away by pale shepherds –​mornings. Leading a strangely bright blue astray –​ White sheep wander, led by the winds. Nothing allows itself be led on to the crossroads in vain Heavy black bulls came instead of sheep Let us mount them with laughter Again, lambs sown around like flaming poppies.” –​] (Stern, Wz 22) The first passage (designated with the number “2”) perfectly realizes the musical programme of Young Poland. The mysterious night tryst (called a “sonata”) is “accompanied” (“przy akpompaniamencie” –​again, a musical phrase) by moonlight, footfalls and rustling. Instrumentation is clear here: it includes alliteration (e.g. “nigdy z nikim nie”), internal rhymes (“rozmowa księżycowa”) and some more intricate resonances: “stąpań” –​“z tą z pań” (a composite rhyme highly untypical of Young Poland) –​“stąpań” (a tautological rhyme commonly used by Young Poland poets). Just like the very title, subsequent parts of Nagi człowiek introduce an intriguing dissonance. They employ the euphonic, intertextual “harmonious whisper of Isoldes with pale hands,” initially stylized to resemble a metaphorical eclogue by employing pastoral elements. The fourth couplet features expressive alliteration and consonance in the image of “czarne brzemienne buhaje” [heavy black bulls] For Author use only Polemical stylization 127 meant for “siąść ze śmiechem okrakiem” [mounting them with laughter], which shatters the structure developed earlier as ludic vitalism does not fit the soft “musicality” of earlier passages. With his semantic choices, Stern goes beyond turn-​ of-​ the-​ century style. Although he sometimes uses “ironic stylization to imitate ‘Decadentism’,”162 the aural poetics of his predecessors is preserved, as can be clearly discerned in other parts: Zanurzyłem swe dłonie w mleczne gwiazd odmęty Pragnąc by me ramiona dzień i noc okuły, Lecz gdy już objęły wspaniały łuk kopuły –​ Poczuły grzbiet Villevi sklepiennie wygięty. Ptaki rąk księżycowe i ust jej płomienność, Niebozastygły, wibrujący, wyprężony Grzbiet jej pode mną: –​w uszach z czerwonymi dzwony Biegłem by w uścisku jej uwiecznić zmienność. Snop gwiazd więc rozrzucając moją dłonią zżęty. Mknąłem w zamian szturchańce zbierając bez liku, Aż gdym już stawał na progu jej pokoiku, Znajdowałem na drzwiach zwykle napis: zajęty. [I dipped my hands in the milky star abyss Wishing them to clasp my arms day and night, But when they embraced the marvellous arch of the dome –​ They felt the Villevi back bent like a vault. The moon-​birds of her hands, her fiery lips, Heaven-​still, vibrating, taut Her back under me: –​with ears holding red bells I ran to immortalize change in her embrace. Scattering streams of stars with my reaping hands I sped, suffering innumerable jabs Until I would stand before her little room, Usually finding on the door the note: occupied.] (Stern, Wz 23; emphasis preserved) At first, the quoted stanzas appear passéist. Regular, thirteen-​ syllable lines (without the typical caesura after the seventh syllable; the only exception being the twelve-​syllable-​long eighth line) contain relatively few sound repetitions. Without many pauses, the long, Art Nouveau (epithet-​heavy) sentences bring to mind 162 Helena Zaworska, O nową sztukę. Polskie programy artystyczne lat 1917–​1922, Warszawa 1963, 193. For Author use only 128 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland symbolist prolixity. “Musicality” is further underlined by numerous poetic phrases, including some neologisms of unusual sound163 such as “sklepiennie” [like a vault], “niebozastygły” [heaven-​still] and “mleczne gwiazd odmęty” [milky star abyss]. The dimension of meanings seems even more remarkable. The vision of a macro-​ Anthropos who spans earth and heaven, symbolistically scattering “streams of stars” as well as praising “the moon-​birds of her hands” and “fiery lips” of his beloved, is distorted by two mentions of the ambiguous image of her taut and bent back. The closing lines completely erase the loftiness of previous stanzas, introducing colloquial “jabs,” the diminutive “little room” that shocks after shifting from a cosmic-​scale vision and finally the banal words “occupied.” The note reveals her profession, which is certainly unbecoming of the Young Poland conventionally high style, constituting yet another dissonance in Stern’s text. Further passages that illustrate the discussed issues are expressionistic and distinctive in terms of sound (through anaphora, alliteration and consonance), combining loftiness with vulgar colloquialisms: Zęby me błyskawicą przerżnijcie czerwoną Ognistym krzykiem rozświećcie ciemności –​ I dziewkę spoconą Co jak cień się błąka po drewnianym moście, Co białe ukazuje łono Do gacha przytulona –​błyskawicą trwożcie! [Blast my teeth with a red lightning With a fiery scream illuminate the darkness –​ And the sweaty girl Wandering like a shadow on the wooden bridge Who reveals a white bosom Clinging to a guy –​with a lightning frighten!] (Stern, Wz 23–​24) Stern’s long poem can be compared with another text that explores the dissonance between iconoclastic semantics and Young Poland sound aesthetics, a poem whose intense ambiguity and richness of interpretative contexts is unmatched among all works of Polish Futurism: Aleksander Wat’s JA z jednej strony i JA z drugiej strony mego mopsożelaznego piecyka [ME from One Side and ME from the Other Side of My Pug Iron Stove; hereafter called Piecyk].164 As Venclova notes, Piecyk is “to a large degree parody and mockery, but there is more to it as well.”165 In order to demonstrate what Wat’s poem offers and what it parodies we should recall the poem’s origin, described by the poet himself in the following terms: 163 See Kluba, “Symbolizm w Polsce. Rekonesans,” 52. 164 Wat’s poem is not lyrical; however, as clarified in Introduction, this study also anal­ yses Futurist prose poems. 165 Tomas Venclova, Aleksander Wat. Obrazoburca, trans. J. Goślicki, Kraków 1997, 78. For Author use only Polemical stylization 129 I wrote Piecyk in four or five states of trance, in January 1919, with a fever of 39–​40 degrees Celsius. And later, during winter nights spent at an iron stove after returning from eccentric bohemian wanderings. … Several years before André Breton, but out of the same Freudian inspiration, I arrived at the concept of écriture automatique. I called this self-​recording, or auto-​release. I brought the barely legible notebooks … to the printing house “Wszechczas,” never having read what I wrote without any rational control over the material. I went farther than Breton –​I wanted to foreground chance and thus did not edit or proofread it. The owner, a half-​educated drunkard who had a penchant for Futurism, interpreted unclear passages in his own way. As a result, my banal “valley of Roseval” became –​splendidly! –​“the valley of Ronsalwat.” However, he consistently adopted “Sanct Francisco” and added his own gibberish to mine.166 Consequently, “the reader is confronted with a huge yet delirious library”167 since the poem contains a plethora of more or less clear literary allusions (among others to Jacobus da Varagine, Villon, Dante, Rabelais, Shakespeare, Cervantes, Poe, Dostoevsky, Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Mayakovsky, the Bible, Kabbalah, demonology, 166 Wat, “Coś niecoś o ‘Piecyku’,” Ant. 271–​2. 167 Venclova, Aleksander Wat, 82. He adds: “To a large degree, Piecyk comes close to the outstanding works of world literature such as Flaubert’s The Temptation of Saint Anthony (in 1919 Wat would be familiar with it) or –​even more so –​the chapter “Circe” from Joyce’s Ulysses (published in 1922). All three works employ countless quotations; all three blend myths and traditions of various provenance into a syncretist, nebulous whole. (Another example of this is provided by Khlebnikov’s poetry.)” Witkacy assesses Piecyk in the following way: “The book by Wat seems to me like a bag randomly filled with beautifully cut gems, cameo brooches, tiny ivory knick-​knacks or God knows what else” (Stanisław I. Witkiewicz, “Aleksander Wat,” in Bez kompromisu. Pisma krytyczne i publicystyczne, ed. J. Degler, Warszawa 1976, 134; Witkacy considered Piecyk to be the prime example of Pure Form in poetry). Bolecki emphasizes the incompatibility of Piecyk with “primitivist” declarations of the Futurists: “Piecyk does not celebrate simplicity, contemporaneity, technology or a plebeian attitude to art; instead, it contains an extraordinary assembly of names, themes, topics and symbols from various epochs and cultures, thus demanding from readers highly sophisticated encyclopaedic erudition. As a Futurist work it is highly unusual since the miracles of technology are replaced with monsters inspired by Poe, Rimbaud and Baudelaire; this book spills before the eyes of readers hundreds of ingredients from various cultures: Egyptian and Greek, Jewish and Christian, mediaeval, baroque, Romantic, and naturally –​and unsurprisingly –​modernist [of Young Poland]” (Bolecki, “Od potworów do znaków pustych,” 74–​5). Moreover, “according to Wat Piecyk anticipated surrealism and the neosymbolism of the 1930s (Czechowicz’s poetry), the linguistic poetry of Miron Białoszewski, the philosophy of youth in Gombrowicz’s Operetka and the hippie anarchism of the beatniks in the 1960s. The list of parallels and connections is even longer. Not a bad effort for a work by a ‘nihilist’ ” (Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Od ‘postmodernizmu’ do ‘modernizmu’ (Wat –​inne doświadczenie),” Teksty Drugie 2 (2001), 31). For Author use only 130 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland magic and various mythologies).168 The present analysis does not seek to discover and explicate all layers of Wat’s text. The aim is rather to discuss its means of developing sound structures –​a topic often disregarded in literary studies of this extraordinary Futurist experiment –​by scrutinizing the phonostylistic devices deployed by Wat. This approach can shed light on the creative experience of this poem, which enjoys a unique status in Polish literary history. According to Wat, one of the techniques he employed is “the questioning of syntax: testing its limits to the point of breaking, beyond which there is only gibberish, and finally embracing this gibberish!”169 The asyntactic approach can be immediately associated with Marinetti’s ideas, but in the case of Piecyk this may be a red herring. Wat’s dismantling of syntax often occurs in a way that contradicts recommendations made by the Italian. Instead, the Polish poet’s approach would consist, on the one hand, in creating gibberish and Art Nouveau, long, ornamental phrases, and on the other hand, in disassembling words in a manner entirely alien to Young Poland. Marinetti’s “words-​in-​freedom” can be located somewhere in between the two above techniques employed by Wat, and it was never really a crucial part of his work (neither in Piecyk nor in his Futurist poems).170 Contrary to what Venclova claims, it does not seem purposeful to analyse this work in the context of zaum, the language beyond reason.171 The gibberish mentioned by Wat in the above quotation should be rather connected with Dadaism.172 However, 168 As is widely held, the main source of inspiration for Wat’s book was the poetic prose of Rimbaud (Illuminations and A Season in Hell) –​it is not without reason that over its pages “roams the ‘sentimentally raised’ young fool Rimbaud” (Ant. 254; see Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 86; Venclova, Aleksander Wat, 83–​5). Bolecki argues that one of the unnoticed models for Wat was Requiem aeternam –​Totenmesse by Przybyszewski (Bolecki, “Od ‘postmodernizmu’ do ‘modernizmu’,” 34). However, Piecyk is not merely a protest against symbolism. As Pietrych argues, “in this work, the scope of Wat’s negation is too large to reduce it to the tradition of modernism [Young Poland]. … the youthful poem by the author of Ciemne świecidło negates the entirety of humanity’s spiritual and intellectual achievements. It protests tradition as such. Looking at it from the perspective of modernism [Young Poland] does not change the total character of this negation” (Krystyna Pietrych, “W chaosie i nicości. O młodzieńczych utworach Aleksandra Wata,” in Pamięć głosów. O twórczości Aleksandra Wata, ed. W. Ligęza, Kraków 1992, 74). See also Aleksander Wat, Dziennik bez samogłosek, ed. K. Rutkowski, Warszawa 1990, 266 (the part “Kartki na wietrze”); Józef Olejniczak, W-​Tajemnicza-​nie –​ Aleksander Wat, Katowice 1999, 108–​13; Władysław Panas, “ ‘Antykwariat anielskich ekstrawagancji’ albo ‘święty bełkot.’ Rzecz o ‘Piecyku’ Aleksandra Wata,” in W “antykwariacie anielskich ekstrawagancji.” O twórczości Aleksandra Wata, eds. J. Borowski, W. Panas, Lublin 2002, 5–​22. 169 Wat, “Coś niecoś o ‘Piecyku’,” 276. 170 See Ważyk, Dziwna historia awangardy, 52. 171 See Venclova, Aleksander Wat, 91. 172 This perspective is used to analyse Piecyk in Chapter Three, sections two, four and five. For Author use only Polemical stylization 131 the fundamental reference in this case is the Young Poland style. Piecyk presents a whole array of possibilities inherent in language, which ought to be interpreted, on many levels, in the context of turn-​of-​the-​century composition techniques. In a “catalogue of devices and innovations”173 assembled by the poet with “kind researchers” in mind, he admits that his goal was to “mockingly paraphrase my predecessors –​not the Skamander poets … but those representing Young Poland.”174 Wat embraced the Young Poland predilection for weirdness of sound and meaning, as well as the tendency to imbue texts with unusual, euphonic poetic phrases.175 Thus, he brought Young Poland methods to an extreme by releasing absurdity and iconoclasm from the semantic framework of beautifully-​sounding sentences: Biczowany rab, niewolnik Onanii spotkał na swojej drodze, na trzecim stopniu Krzywego Koła trzynastoletnią Beatrice. [Scourged servant, slave to Onania, met on his path, on the third degree of Crooked Wheel, the thirteen-​year-​old Beatrice.] (Wat, Ww 7)176 Scytowie okrakiem na drobnych wichrach, zady zdrowe a pachnące, owłosione u dołu nogi mogą cię pewnych nieszporów grynszpanowego wieczoru przenieść w zamorskie djamentowe krainy. [Scythians astride slight gusts of wind, buttocks healthy and fragrant, hairy calves capable of transporting you at some vespers of a verdigris evening into overseas diamond countries.] (Wat, Ww 7) A kiedy na niebo wypełznie poszarpany nędzarz-​zorza, zaśpiewam dziwną canzonę o Ulalume na różowym wieprzu[.]‌ [And when the ragged pauper of dawn crawls onto the sky, I shall sing a strange canzone about Ulalume on a pink hog.] (Wat, Ww 15) Na białym tramwaju z pawich główek i złotoślepych samumów królowa Mab bawi się feerją rakiety. Twoje łono wyostrzone wściekłością stalaktytów, a winne grona twego ciała ukoją wieczną tęsknotę łowcy z Beocji. [On a white tram of peacock heads and gold-​blind simooms Queen Mab plays with rocket extravaganza. Your bosom is sharpened with the angriness of stalactites, while 173 174 175 176 Terms developed in Wat, “Coś niecoś o ‘Piecyku’,” 275. Wat, “Coś niecoś o ‘Piecyku’,” 276. See Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna,” 16. All quotations from Piecyk qtd. after Wat, Ww; this edition preserves the original layout. Typesetting errors in the first edition were approved by the poet (137). See also Adam Dziadek, “Wstęp,” Wat, Ww, lxxxiii-​lxxxiv. For Author use only 132 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland the grape clusters of your body will soothe the eternal longing of the hunter from Boeotia.] (Wat, Ww 27) Nie mogłem już dłużej znieść beznamiętnego pejzażu i –​bladoróżowy nosorożec, przeciągle rycząc pobiegłem na delikatne łączki modrych żon z Tahore. [I could no longer stand the impassionate landscape and –​like a pale-​pink rhinoceros with a drawn-​out roar –​I ran to the delicate meadows of the deep blue wives from Tahore.] (Wat, Ww 42) Words rarely used in everyday speech, e.g. “simooms,” “extravaganza,” “Boeotia,” “canzone,” “stalactites,” “Ulalume,” “Tahore,” “Beatrice,” or the neologism “Onania” meet all criteria of Young Poland phonic peculiarity. Turn-​of-​the-​century style can be also heard in numerous inter-​sentence resonances and combinantions of assonances and consonances (e.g. “niewolnik Onanii;” “nędzarz-​zorza”). A foreigner with no knowledge of Polish could regard the quoted passages as exceptionally harmonious and musical, as their sound suggests. Still, no Polish reader would draw such conclusions because the meanings of these sentences make it impossible. Indeed, Wat’s parody is precisely based on the contradiction between semantics and euphony. What we could regard as ornamental and sonically alluring turns out to be ironically dissonant in terms of meaning. For example, the euphonic, sonorous (all sounds are voiced) “Onania” is not connected to any lofty mysteriousness on the plane of meaning, while the meeting of the alliteratively defined “biczowany rab” [scourged servant] and the intertextually invoked thirteen-​ year-​old Beatrice (rare, intertextual name) does not bode well for the latter. The image conveyed through the alliterative phrase “łono wyostrzone wściekłością stalaktytów” [bosom sharpened with the angriness of stalactites] proves to be absurd and iconoclastic, while the neighbouring euphonic phrase “winne grona twego ciała” (characteristically composed in terms of vowel use) comes dangerously close to blasphemy. From the perspective of Young Poland principles of sound composition, Wat’s text is impeccable and faultless. Moreover, it displays the nebulous character of meanings, prohibiting any simple explication of the quoted passages. Meanings arising from configurations of lexemes reveal that beautifully sounding sentences are actually absurd and iconoclastic. Wat amasses unusual words rarely used in everyday speech, juxtaposing them with the most common and natural colloquialisms (“zady [bottoms],” “owłosione nogi” [hairy legs], “wieprz” [hog]), setting in motion a mechanism described by Danuta Buttler: Bookish, especially poetic vocabulary lends the text a lofty tone, making it seem sophisticated. Thus, a comic effect can be achieved by juxtaposing such words with “down-​to-​earth” colloquialisms referring to ordinary everyday life.177 177 Danuta Buttler, Polski dowcip językowy, Warszawa 2001, 85. For Author use only Polemical stylization 133 Although this is not a narrative work, it seems possible to summarize discussions of the poem’s semantic and stylistic intricacies by referring to Bakhtin’s interpretation of Dostoevsky’s “A Nasty Story:” “Everything is built on the extreme inappropriateness and scandalous nature of all that occurs. Everything is full of sharp carnivalistic contrasts, mesalliances, ambivalence, debasing and decrownings.”178 Sometimes, however, Wat’s parody is not iconoclastic and does not shock with juxtapositions of stylistically incompatible word structures, but is perhaps merely a euphonic account of oneiric visions that are far from lucid in terms of syntax or semantics.179 Turn-​of-​the-​century authors highly valued semantic ambiguity; in the present case this characteristic is also pushed to the extreme.180 This is exempli­ fied in beautifully-​sounding, poetic, Art Nouveau, syntactically complex passages that meet many criteria of Young Poland euphony (alliteration, consonance and assonance, conventional onomatopoeic phrases, lexical repetitions, musicological terms, barbarisms, borrowings, foreign-​sounding proper names, etc.): Protoplazmy moich oczu ukochały się i złociste solferiny wybrzęczą ci pieśń zwycięską pilotów: metafizyczne drążenia marnotrawnych synów. Poszło na marne dziedzictwo wielkich ojców wpatrujących się mętnie w perłę na tle barwno-​szarym dyluwjalnej krzywdy. [The protplasmas of my eyes fell in love and the golden solferinos will buzz you a victorious song of the pilots: metaphysical delvings of prodigal sons. Wasted is the 178 Bakhtin, Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics, 155; emphasis preserved. For a discussion of broader application of Bakhtin’s categories see Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Język. Polifonia. Karnawał,” Teksty 3 (1977), 16–​17, 23–​4. 179 It would be interesting to compare the euphonic parodistic phrasing in Piecyk with differently motivated yet similarly developed (at least in places) prose of Bruno Schulz. Let us recall one passage from Sklepy cynamonowe [Cinnamon shops]: “Tam te wyłupiaste pałuby łopuchów wybałuszyły się, jak babska szeroko rozsiadłe, na wpół pożarte przez oszalałe spódnice” [“There, these protuberant bur clumps spread themselves, like resting peasant women, half enveloped in their own swirling skirts”] (Bruno Schulz, Opowiadania, Warszawa 1995, 9; English rendition qtd. after Bruno Schulz, “August,” trans. C. Wieniewska, http://​www.brun​osch​ulz.org/​aug​ust. htm [accessed 6 July 2021]). Perhaps the sensual images “painted with sound” by Wat and Schulz ought to be regarded from the perspective of the broader category of oneirism. At this stage it is only possible to signal these surprising similarities. 180 According to Baranowska, “the poem contains all the words, associations and sen­ tence fragments that annoyed so much the subsequent generation of innovators –​ ones that were integrated into symbolist wholes to offer allusions, symbols and allegories, but here are used against the original meaning, referencing nonetheless the system of modernism [Young Poland]” (Baranowska, “Trans czytającego młodzieńca,” 228). Cyranowicz argues that in Piecyk “sentences emerge as a result of semantic eruptions on the sound surface of words” (Maria Cyranowicz, “Sursecesyjne ruiny Wata (próba reinterpretacji ‘Piecyka’),” in W “antykwariacie anielskich ekstrawagancji,” 27). For Author use only 134 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland heritage of great fathers who gazed dully at the pearl on the colourful-​grey backdrop of diluvial injustice.] (Wat, Ww 38–​39) Cienie skłębią spienione mordy spleenu i mopsa i ciężarne czekają. [Shadows will teem the frothing gob of spleen and pug as the pregnant are waiting.] (Wat, Ww 32) Błogosławieństwo na buruny na opale na hałaśliwe gwiazd runy na heljotropy i na żółty, boleśnie żółty ornat moich chichocących drużyn. W brzęczące kantyczkami wrota obgorzałych miast. [Blessing on buruns on opals on noisy runes of stars on heliotropes and on the yellow, painfully yellow chasuble of my giggling teams. Into the canticle-​buzzing gates of scorched cities.] (Wat, Ww 24) Andaluzyjskie czarownice klaszczące kastanietami wtańczyły wesołego one-​ stepa z muzykalnym Żydem długim długim czarnym chudym w niebiosa mieszkańców kirgizkich stepów. Centauresy broniące tronu wznosiły się, powoli i harmonijnie łopocząc skrzydłami, na najwyższe szczyty cynobrowych poranków. … Młode wytworne andaluzyjskie czarownice odwróciły się na widok uciekającego baszkirskiego boga [Andalusian witches clapping castanets danced a merry one-​step with the musical Jew long long black slim into the heavens of the inhabitants of Kyrgyz steppes. Centauresses protecting the throne rose slowly, flapping their wings harmoniously, to the highest peaks of vermillion mornings. … Young refined Andalusian witches turned away at the sight of the fleeing Bahskir god] (Wat, Ww 9–​10) Wat’s “centauresses,” “solferinos,” and “pearl on the colourful-​grey backdrop of diluvial injustice” remind one of the possibly Young Poland origin of this avant-​ garde text. The author intended to mock the novel Faunessa by Maria Wielopolska181 (or more precisely, as the title page reads, by Maria-​Jehanne Walewska Hrabina Wielopolska). Passages from Wat can be compared with ones from Wielopolska’s typically Young Poland work: Dwie libelule z błękitnej, niezrównanie cieniowanej emalii, łączyły się półkolami swych korpusów, spazmem miłosnym wygięte, delikatnie modelowane, tak, że nawet ich łapki włochate były, a zwinięte skrzydła lśniły od barw, aplikowanych na złocie, łudząc przeźroczystością. Miało się wrażenie, że Gouldstikkerowie uczynili najpierw 181 Małgorzata Baranowska, “Transfiguracje przestrzeni w twórczości Aleksandra Wata,” in Przestrzeń i literatura, 281–​96. For Author use only Polemical stylization 135 puch z klejnotów bajecznych, z brylantów, z szmaragdów, z chryzolitów i lapis lazuli i że z puchu dopiero stworzyli ilustrację do słów Gourmonta, do fantazji pani de la Serre.182 [Two dragonflies of thin, blue, unmatched enamel joined with the semi-​circles of their bodies, bent in erotic spasm, delicately modelled so that even their legs had hair, while the folded wings shone with colours applied on gold, luring with transparency. One could say that the Gouldstikkers first made dust of fabulous gems, diamonds, emeralds, chrysolites and lapis lazuli, and that only from this dust illustrations were made to accompany the words of Gourmot or the fantasizes of Mrs. De la Serre.] Patrzyłam w majaczącą plamę rąk moich i czytałam w nich to, czego ludzie nigdy w nich nie odczytali –​–​–​delikatny błękit duszy marzącej, nerwowe fale dreszczu, które długa samotność wytwarza, filigranowość palców dziewczęcych, zakończonych emaliowanym szponem obrończym i ta stalowość samowystarczalności, przy jedwabnym naskórku. Dziwna rzecz, że ludzie przeszli mimo, obok rąk moich, że nawet … jego … nie zatrzymały te dwa znaki białe, tajemnicze, jak znak na koronacyjnej albie chutuchty –​ skarabeusze dwa, co zagadkę Bóstwa w sobie mieszczą i ludzką nietykalność hardą i pieszczotliwość niewyzyskaną … Ptaki dwa z perłowej masy, szukające gniazd …183 [I looked at the looming blot of my hands and read from them what no man has ever read before –​–​–​the delicate blue of a dreamy soul, nervous waves of rain formed by long solitude, petite fingers of girls tipped with enamel protective claws, and this steel self-​sufficiency at the silky skin. It is weird that people passed by these hands of mine, even … he … was not stopped by these two white, mysterious signs, like emblems on the coronation albs of the Khutuktus –​two scarabs containing the mystery of God as well as the proud human inviolability and unexploited tenderness … Two mother-​of-​pearl birds looking for nests …] Piecyk also ridicules Young Poland synaesthesia: Fioletowe legendy głaszczą nabrzmiałe żądzą lędźwia lipcowych dni. … Likier szartrez werwena i godziny nie chcą ujść i kładą się płazem na bazaltowe wiry, obłędne w adagio perfumowanych fioletów. Psy szczekają w borealny księżyc, którego smak pergaminowy szeleszcze w kawowego koloru kosmatej łapie Demiurga. … Byzantycka Bogurodzica i Łazarz z martwychwstający chłoszczą się śród dźwięków orgjastycznych organów. 182 Maria J. Walewska-​Wielopolska, Faunessy. Powieść dzisiejsza, Kraków 1913, 170. 183 Walewska-​Wielopolska, Faunessy, 193–​194. The image of “bird hands” also appears in the already quoted passage from Stern’s “Nagi człowiek w śródmieściu,” while Piecyk (Wat, Ww 26) features “the seagulls of your sick hands.” For Author use only 136 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland [Purple legends caress the loins of July days burning with lust. … Neither the chartreuse verveine liquor nor hours want to fade and fall flat on basalt whirlpools, frenzied in an adagio of perfumed purples. Dogs bark at the boreal moon whose parchment taste rustles in the coffee-​colour hairy hand of the Demiurge. … Byzantine Mother of God and resurrecting Lazarus flagellate amid the sounds of an orgiastic pipe organ.] (Wat, Ww 32–​33) Czkawka rumiana i soczysta. Deszcz przejrzysty włosów. Wściekły lej prążkowanych eterów. [Hiccup red and juicy. Clear rain of hair. Angry crater of striped ethers.] (Wat, Ww 22) Some of the above phrases can be read as a parody of symbolist synaesthesia and semantic obliqueness: “purple legends,” “an adagio of perfumed purples,” and especially the parodistic masterpiece that employs synaesthesia, onomatopoeia and alliteration –​the sentence “Psy szczekają w borealny księżyc, którego smak pergaminowy szeleszcze w kawowego koloru kosmatej łapie Demiurga [Dogs bark at the boreal moon whose parchment taste rustles in the coffee-​ colour hairy hand of the Demiurge].”184 Another exceptional, “non-​musical,” prosaic phrase that has a markedly anti-​symbolist character is: “hiccup red and juicy.” Finally, there is the mocking, ludically metaphorical “angry crater of striped [!]‌ethers.” Wat’s text also features numerous instances of syntactic parallelism and many repetitions of words and phrases, frequently recurring in apostrophes, which are the equivalent of Young Poland repetitions and anaphora. Still, the poet goes further –​what used to be a refrain in turn-​of-​the-​century poetry, or an echo-​like reminder occurring between lines that pursue different directions, here comprises the central matter of the text, often deprived of any additional semantic power. At the same time, repetitions are deconstructed: word order can be inverted (anastrophe; hyperbaton), while verbs are subject to specific, automatic conjugation (polyptoton). As a result, the initially coherent sentences dissolve in an echo-​driven play with sound. Wat employs traditional rhetorical figures for purposes other than clear emphasis of meaning. The sound dimension is clearly foregrounded, while the semantic one is variously transformed. The following passage seems to be particularly interesting in this respect: 184 Venclova claims that “the moon’s ‘parchment taste’ may seem slightly far-​ fetched, but is impressive as a metaphor. It is only when Wat puts this taste in the ‘hand of the Demiurge’ and makes it ‘rustle’ that the rhetoric of synaesthesia is destroyed” (Venclova, Aleksander Wat, 91; see also Baranowska, “Trans czytającego młodzieńca,” 207). For Author use only Polemical stylization 137 Utorowana jest droga Magom od wschodu słońca. Utorowana jest od wschodu słońca droga Magom. Magom od wschodu słońca droga utorowana jest. [Cleared is the path for the Magi from the direction of sunrise. Cleared from the direction of sunrise is the path for the Magi. Magi from the direction of sunrise have the path cleared for them.] (Wat, Ww 44) The triple, ritualistic repetition of a phrase that carries biblical connotations, in each instance differently arranging the same set of words (all quoted lines employ inversion in Polish), makes the text lofty and mysterious. The intricate structure can be associated, on the one hand, with “high style”185 and on the other with verbosity hiding under the pretence of gravity.186 In this way, Wat “suspends” the composition somewhere between biblical loftiness, rhetorical erudition, Young Poland euphonic circumlocution and syntactic play that does not imply much in this semantically ambiguous work. (The line coming after the above triplet changes the modality of this passage: “Galgalat i Malgalat chodźcie ze mną spać” [Galgalat and Malgalat come sleep with me]).187 As a result, what appeared to be a simple continuation of tradition in fact creates a new quality that is nevertheless still recognizable due to its Art Nouveau literary form.188 185 The first two lines are framed by the figure of hyperbaton (elements: “utorowana jest,” “droga Magom” and “od wschodu słońca” in the second line change places), while lines one and three are bound by a slightly modified anastrophe –​a figure “based on two neighbouring elements that switch places” (these elements are: “utorowana jest (droga)” and “Magom od wschodu słońca”) (see Heinrich Lausberg, Retoryka literacka. Podstawy wiedzy o literaturze, trans. A. Gorzkowski, Bydgoszcz 2002, 279; see also Jeerzy Ziomek, Retoryka opisowa, Wrocław 2000, 201). 186 “Young poets would fend off the posthumous reign of modernism [Young Poland] in many ways, one of which was breaking the logical ties binding the cosmos of symbolist art, which tended to order the world, regarding it as a single whole comprised of more or less hidden symbolic meanings” (Baranowska, “Trans czytającego młodzieńca,” 191). 187 Wat, Ww 44. As Dziadek explains, Galgalat and Malgalat are “names of Caspar and Balthazar, as explained in The Golden Legend: wise men from the East, who came to bow before the infant Jesus” (Dziadek, “Wstęp,” fn. 155). 188 Wat writes in a note dated 7 June 1964: “Czesław [Miłosz] shrugged off Art Nouveau in Piecyk with disdain. I need to explain this better to him –​he identifies it with Young Poland, but this is a broader and deeper phenomenon, not only geographically. In fact, there were two ways out of the rapidly conventionalizing complications and the conventionalization of excess in everything: words, ideas, people, etc. Broadly speaking and focusing on extremes, the first was to become weird, weirding oneself and thus the world, and the second was to commit crude reductionism, as in socialist realism. Everything falls between Art Nouveau and socialist realism –​it is only sporadically possible to venture beyond this opposition” (Wat, Dziennik bez For Author use only 138 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland It is also worth to note other sound-​and syntax-​based configurations. Sometimes, the repetitions that create euphony form broken or elliptical clauses (unseen in Young Poland), in which the textual “stammering” or the “broken-​record effect” can “bring to mind Gertrude Stein’s experimental prose.”189 Thanks to numerous lexical repetitions these passages gain a distinctive sound form, although obviously also one retroactively recognizable (irregular).190 Consider the following examples: Progi zielone. Czkawka rumiana i soczysta. Deszcz przejrzysty włosów. Wściekły lej prążkowanych eterów. Jedność –​matnia. Progi zielone, zielone progi, zielone. [Green thresholds. Hiccup red and juicy. Clear rain of hair. Angry crater of striped ethers. Unity –​imbroglio. Thresholds green, green threshold, green.] (Wat, Ww 22) Birjuzowa łza ma spłynąć z twojej rzęsy, twojej rzęsy, twojej królewskiej rzęsy. [Turquoise tear is to drip from your eyelash, your eyelash, your royal eyelash.] (Wat, Ww 44) W plisach mojej kanapy mógłby się zmieścić niejeden wiolonczelista. Przez czerwone okna (kto zna ich godło) ogłoś wszystkim urbi et orbi, że w plisach mojej kanapy mógłby się zmieścić niejeden wiolonczelista. [In the folds of my couch I could hide more than one celloist. Through the red window (who knows their emblem) announce to everyone, urbi et orbi, that the folds of my couch could accommodate more than one celloist.] (Wat, Ww 45) Gdzie się podziały pagody i żółte garście królewskich synów? Gdzie się podziały pagody i tępy kołys niedzieli Bóstw? Gdzie się podziały? [Where have the pagodas gone? Where the yellow handfuls of royal sons? Where have the pagodas gone and the dull swing of Gods’ Sundays? Where have they gone?] (Wat, Ww 48)191 samogłosek, 172; see also 165–​6). For a discussion of Wat’s understanding of Art Nouveau see also Wat, “Coś niecoś o ‘Piecyku’,” 276; Śniecikowska, Wspólny język czy wieża Babel, 447–​9; Cyranowicz, “Sursecesyjne ruiny Wata,” 23–​33. 189 Venclova, Aleksander Wat, 90. 190 See Okopień-​Sławińska, “Pomysły do teorii wiersza współczesnego,” 183. 191 These quotations can be compared with passages from one of Gertrude Stein’s syn­ tactically meandering texts (“Miss Furr and Miss Skeene”): “Certainly Helen Furr would not find it gay to stay, she did not find it gay, she said she would not stay, she said she did not find it gay, she said she would not stay, where she did not find it gay, she said she found it gay where she did stay and she did stay there where very For Author use only Polemical stylization 139 The described techniques go beyond parodying symbolist and Young Poland style, confirming that Piecyk is a multidimensional work not only in terms of meaning but also in terms of composition. Moreover, although Wat masterfully mocks turn-​of-​the-​ century styles, several places in this long poem feature echoes of the European avant-​ garde. Specifically, we may detect a Dada-​like liberty of phonemes and morphemes, puns using already meaningless parts of words, often crucially juxtaposed with themes and lexical items derived from Young Poland (e.g. “pawie” [peacocks], “nieme” [dumb], “sztylet” [dagger], “obłędne przestworza” [wild expanse]). For example, Wat writes: Powieki i bez powieki, i bez, i bez, i poza[.]‌I poza dumała cicho i ciepło, a rostąż ramp skalała nieme bezusty. I smętne o ty! i ty kosujko wież chorych i klin bezwargich powiek. Sztylet bez powieki. Wieki bez powieki. Powieki bez powieki. Kto powie czy, jako pawie, wie co wypowie. [Eyelids and without eyelids, and without, and without, and beyond. And this pose meditated silently and warmly, while the longing of ramps tainted the dumb liplessnesses. And gloomy O you! and you black-​jay of sickly towers and wedge of lipless eyelids. Dagger without eyelid. Centuries without eyelid. Eyelids without eyelid. Who can say what, as peacocks, they know they are saying.] (Wat, Ww 40) Przychodzą smutni i opuszczeni i grzeją skostniałe palce. Przy ognisku zarzuconym w olbrzymie mroźne obłędne przestworza. Przychodą uśmiechają się do siebie i grzeją skostniałe palce. Palce, lce paapa p pa-​pa. [They come sad and lonely, warming their fingers numb with cold. At the fire thrown into the giant frosty wild expanse. They come smiling at each other and warm their fingers numb with cold. Fingers, gers fiifi f fi-​fi.] (Wat, Ww 37) drepczę i kwiczę: tim tiu tju tua tm tru tia tiam tiamtiom tium tiu tium tium. [I toddle around squealing: tim tiu tyu tua tm tru tya tyam tyamtyom tyum tyu tyum tyum.] (Wat, Ww 9) Use of paronomasia (“powie” –​“pawie” –​“wypowie”), repetition of words (sometimes homonyms, e.g. “poza” [beyond/​pose]) or their parts –​not necessarily many were cultivating something. She did stay there. She always did dind it gay there.” See Marjorie Perloff, “Gertrude Stein’s Differential Syntax,” in 21st-​Century Modernism; The ‘New’ Poetics, Malden, Mass. 2002. See also Gertrude Stein, Three Lives, New York 1985, 168. For Author use only 140 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland reflecting morphological structures –​becomes almost completely inert and asemantic, contributing to the development of lexeme configurations motivated only by sound (“wieki bez powieki” [centuries without eyelid] –​“powie” [say] –​“pawie” [peacocks] –​“wie” [know] –​“wypowie” [say]). Moreover, words are deconstructed (which never happened in Young Poland) “with the help of metathesis and reduplication, which is typical of primitive speech”192 (e.g. the decomposition of the word “palce” [fingers]). Finally, the long poem contains primitive echolalias (as in the last quotation).193 To sum up this consideration of Wat’s Piecyk, we should conclude that apart from numerous phrases stylized as symbolist –​sometimes only in terms of sound –​ the long poem also contains passages that go far beyond parodistic stylization, causing Young Poland poetics to be undermined not only through an array of quotations and allusions but also through style itself.194 One can also point out many passages whose construction relies on techniques alien to Young Poland (i.e. uncommon in mainstream turn-​of-​the-​century poetry)195 –​syntactic games that desemanticize the text, inert and homophonic repetitions, decomposed words and echolalias. In a carnivalesque spirit, Wat mixes themes and conventions, but the main subject of his textual “Mardi Gras” is still the aesthetic of Young Poland. It seems impossible to disagree with the following observation made by Venclova: In Wat’s poem, nonsensical elements are derived from folk culture and in many cases resemble typical Slavic nursery rhymes, counting-​out rhymes and tongue-​twisters. This kind of nonsense bring to mind a dance of randomly assembled phonemes, morphemes and sememes –​it is amusing and contains no trace of any initial semantic investment.196 Still, Wat’s poem contains few references to folk culture or low poetry. Traces of nursery and counting-​out rhymes –​echoes of childlike fascination with language (which does not automatically mean it must be rooted in folklore) –​can be identified only in already deconstructed words (“palce,” “jutro”).197 “Semantic investment” is indeed difficult to define in passages that reveal their heterogeneous character right from the start. Still, wherever absurdity grows gradually, disintegrating the emerging meaning (also on the level of phonostylistics), meanings of juxtaposed 192 Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna,” 11. Such structures in Piecyk are broadly discussed in the second section of Chapter Three. 193 This question is broadly discussed in the second section of Chapter Three. 194 See Bolecki, “Od ‘postmodernizmu’ do ‘modernizmu’,” 34. 195 Cf. the first section. 196 Venclova, Aleksander Wat, 86. 197 The carnivalesque quality recognized in Piecyk should not be connected with rural culture. One may recall here Bakhtin’s concept for he “excludes the rustic understanding of folklore because the carnival, as an ‘age-​old phenomenon’ is connected solely with the city square” (Bolecki, Język. Polifonia. Karnawał, 28). For Author use only Polemical stylization 141 lexemes play an important role. Otherwise it would not be possible to describe the text as one in which “black nihilism” coexists with “grotesque humour,” its originality rooted in “the tension between two contrasting styles: the despairing iconoclasm and the ‘amused’ one.”198 Establishing that Wat’s poem has roots in Young Poland is not a new discovery.199 As already mentioned (and pointed out earlier by interwar scholars), Piecyk is an erudite and intertextual poem, one that “rummages through culture,” not only turn-​of-​the-​century culture. Still, from the perspective of literary technique, Young Poland style remains the fundamental point of reference here. Unusually-​sounding lexemes, often borrowings from faraway cultures, are deployed as euphonic props in a poem that is both erudite and incoherent. The parodistic Art Nouveau style also surfaces in alliterative syntactic arabesques. Onomatopoeic phrases woven into decorative syntax, “musicological” words and lexical repetitions constitute, sound-​wise, an almost hypercorrect replica of Young Poland style. although we should acknowledge the parodistic efforts –​which are quite clear on the plane of phonostylistics –​one should not forget about the clearly avant-​garde elements in this experimental work;200 after all, the text should be read in the context of pre-​ surrealist écriture automatique and Dadaist word-​and sound-​based puns.201 Discussion of Futurist works polemicizing with Young Poland could be concluded with remarks on parody since all texts presented in the section on polemic stylization reveal a parodistic edge. Ryszard Nycz argues: In relation to particular literary works, it [parody] constitutes the general principle of composition, which consists in critical rearrangement and recontextualization of various (sometimes contradictory) enunciation patterns. Ultimately, this contributes to a new, original structure (formal, thematic, ideological) that remains in dialogue with other texts and their conventions, codes, or contexts –​social, cultural and ideological.202 It remains debatable whether the works analysed above are parodistic to an equal degree, whether all of them perform the “critical recontextualization” of Young Poland patterns to the same extent. Undoubtedly, Wat’s Piecyk constitutes one of the clearest examples of this, but there are also others that use different techniques (e.g. texts in which semantic changes are accompanied by the evolution of Young Poland instrumentation). The parody described here reveals itself through alogical, ludic 198 Qtd. after Venclova, Aleksander Wat, 85–​6. 199 See e.g.: Venclova, Aleksander Wat, 88; Baranowska, “Trans czytającego młodzieńca,” 21; Skubalanka, Polska poezja futurystyczna, 16. 200 See Zaworska, “Nurt ‘Nowej Sztuki’,” in Literatura polska 1918–​1975, Vol. 1, 372. 201 Cf. the second section of Chapter Three. 202 Ryszard Nycz, “Parodia i pastisz. Z dziejów pojęć artystycznych w świadomości literackiej XX wieku,” in Tekstowy świat. Poststrukturalizm a wiedza o literaturze, Kraków 2000, 209. See also Sławiński, Poetyka pastiszu, 280. For Author use only 142 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland character and by frequently departing from former poetic decorum, as evidenced for example by the rift between the poem’s sound dimension and its meaning. * Arguing that Young Poland lyricism had a profound impact on Polish Futurism would be like preaching to the converted. The present aim is rather to demonstrate how the phonostylistics of predecessors received new functions and to show that Polish Futurism is certainly not monolithic. From the perspective of references made by the Futurist, the tradition of Young Poland appears quite stereotypically as either a source of traditionalist continuation or a basis for parody.203 However, the situation is far more complex and elucidating it would require, among other things, to further examine Futurist means of instrumentation. Apart from many traditional or even epigone Futurist poems, we may indicate some that go smoothly beyond Young Poland poetics in many ways. There are also many texts that employ parody as well as ones that dialogue with their predecessors, sometimes in a strongly polemical way. However, we should keep in mind that the writing strategies of individual authors can be quite different (as revealed in analyses); however, all of those discussed here made their relationship with the heritage of Young Poland an important aspect of their work. As already shown, references to turn-​of-​the-​century poetic style constitute a pretext for the Futurists to turn towards intertextuality and, in many cases, the ludic.204 Beyond doubt, “the stylistically varied poetic reality reveals [here] its dynamic and polyphonic character.”205 Strikingly, language is regarded as matter that can be shaped in many ways, often departing from the symbolist “depth of experience.” One of the goals in Futurist play with language was to ludically mock former lyrical conventions, the sound of the poem typically acting as a particularly important dimension of intertextual games, sometimes augmented with creative use of typography. To conclude the discussion of Young Poland’s impact on Futurism, we may assemble a catalogue of sound-​based techniques used in works by Czyżewski, Jasieński, Wat, Młodożeniec and Stern. These techniques nevertheless depend on the intertextual function governing a given Futurist poem. The following catalogue accounts only for innovative techniques (discussed in the section on creative continuations of the Young Poland aesthetic and polemical stylization), disregarding doctrinal ones that copy the sound and semantic modality of turn-​of-​the-​century lyricism (discussed in the section on continuations of Young Poland “musicality”). 203 We encounter this situation in most critical analyses referred to in this part of the book. 204 See Nycz, “Parodia i pastisz,” 217–​8, 225. 205 Elżbieta Dąbrowska, Teksty w ruchu. Powroty baroku w polskiej poezji współczesnej, Opole 2001, 35. The claim regards contemporary poetry, which employs different poetic styles, sometimes even historical ones. For Author use only Polemical stylization 143 Apart from various semantic allusions to symbolist poetry (use of typically Young Poland themes is indispensable because this facilitates creating and recognizing works that dialogue and polemicize with predecessors), we may indicate many innovative devices that clearly contribute to the sonic dimension of the poem: The smooth transition beyond the “musicality” of turn-​ of-​ the​century poetry (i.e. creative development of this aesthetic) was facilitated by devices deployed in the dimension of sound, meaning, or in both fields at the same time: A. Young Poland semantics, modifications of Young Poland sound aesthetic: – use of elements of “words-​in-​freedom,” augmented with instrumentation206 (“Taniec” by Czyżewski; “Melodia” by Młodożeniec); – choppy syntax, full of echo-​like repetitions, exposing the sound relations between words and phrases (“Le soir d’amour” by Czyżewski); – foregrounding instrumentation through typographical contrasts (majuscule, miniscule, bold print) and other such means (new use of hyphens and full stops) (“Le soir d’amour” and “Zapadnia” by Czyżewski; “Melodia” by Młodożeniec); – introducing sound signals deprived of verbal carriers –​autonomization of individual sounds (“Zapadnia” by Czyżewski); – persistent amassing of instrumentation devices characteristic for Young Poland (“Taniec” and “Zapadnia” by Czyżewski; “Melodia” by Młodożeniec). B. Retaining Young Poland sound aesthetics, going beyond symbolist atmosphericity: – going beyond the Young Poland decorum by using everyday speech (“Taniec” by Młodożeniec); – introduction of grotesque elements, also in relation to new, urban themes, which were not addressed in turn-​of-​the-​century Polish poetry (“ZemBY” by Jasieński); – juxtaposition (“Miasto w jesienny wieczór (niesielanka)” by Czyżewski). C. Changes in sound poetics (apart from devices typical of Young Poland instrumentation), changes of meaning (ordered by relevance, accounting for innovation in both semantics and instrumentation; the two dimensions overlap in particular poems): – mixing atmospheric themes typical of Young Poland and ones typical of modern civilization (“Melodia tłumu” by Czyżewski); – the poetics of parole in libertà (“Melodia tłumu” by Czyżewski, “Noc” by Młodożeniec); 206 See Aleksandra Okopień-​ Sławińska, “Wiersz awangardowy dwudziestolecia międzywojennego (podstawy, granice, możliwości),” Pamiętnik Literacki 2 (1965), 440. For Author use only 144 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland – breaking syntactic fluidity: sound-​ altering choppy syntax (“Miasto” by Jasieński); – use of proper onomatopoeias (“Melodia tłumu” by Czyżewski, “Miasto” by Jasieński); – introduction of everyday speech (“Melodia tłumu” by Czyżewski);207 – unusual use of exclamations (“Noc” by Młodożeniec); – use of typographical devices that underscore instrumentation (“Melodia tłumu” by Czyżewski; “Noc” and “Iks” by Młodożeniec); – onomatopoeias and glossolalias (“Iks” by Młodożeniec); – heterogeneity of instrumentation patterns: Young Poland “musicality” and folklore (“Miasto” by Jasieński); – diminutive versions of themes typical of Young Poland (“Noc” by Młodożeniec). As for the Futurist polemic stylization that mocks the lyrical conventions of turn-​of-​the-​century poetry, we may point out –​apart from semantically indispensable common points –​efforts that allow one to discern parody. A. Changes in orchestration, changes in semantics: – independence of sounds freed from word structures (“Otchłań” by Młodożeniec); – proper onomatopoeias of ludic character, accompanying Young Poland themes in untypical semantic contexts (“Otchłań” by Młodożeniec; “Chiński bożek (ja sam)” by Stern); – echolalias (“Pogżeb duszy” by Jankowski); – banal rhythms (“Otchłań” by Młodożeniec); – dense use of typically Young Poland instrumentation devices combined with surprising or sometimes even shocking semantics (from the perspective of the predecessors) (in all discussed texts). B. Young Poland instrumentation, polemics in the area of semantics: – incompatibility of semantics and distinct, Young Poland musical signals (both meaning-​and sound-​based) (“Karminowe znużenie,” “Nagi człowiek w śródmieściu” by Stern, “Medium” by Czyżewski, Piecyk by Wat); – distortion of long and fluid phrasing characteristic for symbolist poetry (Piecyk by Wat); – decomposition of words (Piecyk by Wat); – primitivist echolalias (Piecyk by Wat). The above summary shows that the Futurists’ references to turn-​of-​the-​century phonostylistics led them to various innovations. It turns out that the claim about dychotomously conceived relation to Young Poland –​either epigone or parodistic –​ would be unfair to Jasieński, Czyżewski, Wat, Stern and Młodożeniec. It is necessary to acknowledge the great variety of actions facilitating dialogue or clear polemics 207 Such efforts can be traced already in poems by Jankowski. For Author use only Polemical stylization 145 with the faded (or fading) poetics of Young Poland. This is all the more important since some of the poetic techniques described here have taken root in twentieth-​ century lyrical instrumentation, although they may not have been always mediated by Futurism.208 These include the following experimental gestures: 1. breaking the syntactic coherence of the text, 2. autonomization of the poem’s sound dimension: – proper onomatopoeias,209 – use of isolated phonemes existing outside words, – echolalias and glossolalias,210 – breaking the integrity of words by decomposing them into syllables and sounds, 3. consistent juxtapositions, sometimes even involving the entire text, 4. unconventional typographical solutions. These issues are often revisited in this study. Some of the Futurist poems discussed further employ these techniques to a much greater extent than is evidenced in this chapter. However, we should foreground that many innovations going beyond former poetic conventions would already appear in texts referring to Young Poland. Analysis of Futurist poems in the context of turn-​of-​the-​century style demonstrates the period’s avant-​garde breakthrough in terms of phonostylistics –​ it was only in Futurism that all the discordant and non-​musical aspects of reality were appreciated without filtering them first through certain aesthetics. The turn towards the everyday and the mundane involved, among other things, the dimension of sound, leading in consequence to interesting experiments in the area of instrumentation. Futurist texts reveal their modern character already in their mode of using phonostylistic elements taken over from Young Poland. In the Polish context, this was an important interwar lesson in intertextuality and literary technique, most clearly discernible in Futurism. Recognition of the polyphony (different from more homophonic strategies used by Young Poland poets)211 that involves the use of 208 Cf. the second section of the Conclusion; see also Beata Śniecikowska, “ ‘Manifest Neolingwistyczny v. 1.1’ i jego poetyckie potomstwo –​twórczość nowatorów czy paseizm,” Ha!art 23 (2006), 106–​13. Futurist techniques embrace the new aesthetic, becoming the first signal of modernity in Poland (and certainly the first one to be clearly recognized as such). 209 As shown in the first section (64 ff), constructions of this type would appear in ear­ lier poetry, but they would never proliferate in high literature (or –​as is assumed here –​one that is not ephemeral or connected with folklore or the picaresque). Still, Futurists themselves would not regard their works as “high;” in fact, one of their (rather utopian) goals was to bring art and everyday life closer to each other. 210 Such constructions are very rare in earlier high poetry. 211 Bolecki writes about Bakhtinian polyphony and homophony: “While the principle of a polyphonic world consists of contacts understood as interactions, mutual influencing (and coexisting) of all elements, in the homophonic world contacts For Author use only 146 Futurism and the “musicality” of Young Poland many, easily identifiable stylistical elements from the turn-​of-​the-​century repertoire, and avant-​garde techniques like that of “words-​in-​freedom” makes it possible to develop a fresh perspective and shed new light on poetry written by Wat, Stern, Jasieński, Czyżewski and Młodożeniec. always have the character of an isolated framing, involving a hermetic barrier that prevents voices, consciousness, languages, ideas and meanings from permeating freely. Thus, the homophonic world turns out to be a gigantic dictionary, whereas polyphony draws on this dictionary, developing its own answers and using elements of the homophonic world for its own semantic purposes” (Bolecki, Język. Polifonia. Karnawał, 21–​2). For Author use only Chapter Two I mitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism* This part of the study focuses on Futurist experiments that involve various ways of imbuing poetic language with neologisms.1 It may appear surprising given the book’s preoccupation with sound in poetry and not with innovative word formation. In Polish Futurism, however, such practices would often chime with an appreciation for the sound dimension of poems, even though this link is certainly neither apparent nor obligatory, even in lyrical language. Thus, let us scrutinize the mechanisms and causes behind this connection. The very fact of coining poetic neologisms does not immediately mean that such texts are inherently similar. The neological current (put in quotation marks for a reason) would include all Futurist poems that feature a relatively large number of neologisms. This is not to suggest that they constitute a monolithic, homogenous group of texts. The Futurist neologization of language followed many different paths, leading to diverse results in terms of instrumentation and meaning. The present goal is to showcase this diversity without losing track of the fundamental issue, namely the connection between word formation and instrumentation. These problems can be analysed in the perspective of links between techniques of composition adopted by Polish authors and the poetic practise (as well as philosophy of language) developed by Velimir Khlebnikov2 –​a poet whose oeuvre is * 1 2 I am deeply indebted to Adam Pomorski, whose comments helped to finish this chapter. In this chapter, the basic grammatical category is “neologism,” which includes all lexical items never seen before in Polish, regardless whether they were made in accordance with Polish word formation principles (“potential coinages” that could easily proliferate in general language) or not (“non-​potential coinages” whose appearance in general language is improbable). This approach is also adopted by Ronald Vroon, a scholar of Khlebnikov’s poetic lexis (see Ronald Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems: A Key to the Coinages, Ann Arbor 1983, 27–​33). Vroon additionally indicates the possibility to differentiate between non-​potential coinages of non-​grammatical and agrammatical character (31–​33, 100–​196). This study of Futurism abstracts from this distinction, regarding it as a superfluous complication of terminology. In Polish works the name of the author is often spelled “Wielemir” yet this study follows Pomorski and Pollak by using the Russian-​Serbian name “Velimir,” which was given to Khlebnikov in Ivanov’s circle in St. Petersburg in 1909, when the poet was under the spell of neo-​Slavist fascinations; his actual first name is Viktor (see Adam Pomorski, “Nota biograficzna,” in W. Chlebnikow, Poezje wybrane, ed. A. Pomorski, Warszawa 1982, 114–​5). For Author use only 148 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism “unmatched in its omnipotence in this [the twentieth] century”3 and has “inau­ gurated a whole new epoch … in the history of Russian literature.”4 His works are often referenced in literary studies of Wat, Jasieński and Młodożeniec.5 It seems vital to establish the degree to which it is justified to compare their literary experiments with those of Khlebnikov (especially with the neological poetry he wrote until 1909). Polish Futurists were to a certain extent familiar with the Russian avant-​garde, as confirmed by their statements and many analyses in the field of literary history.6 It seems particularly interesting to examine actual compositional similarities between poems written by Polish Futurists and those by Khlebnikov.7 Such analysis would need to address the frequently intertwined questions of neologisms, semantics and instrumentation. The present goal is not to demonstrate any genetic dependencies between the Russian poet and Polish Futurists since any such attempts are in most cases doomed to fail. Still, let us verify whether the writing techniques used by Polish poets can be indeed clearly tied with Khlebnikov’s heritage. This constitutes the first aim of this chapter; the second one, equally important, is to examine the relationship between the sound design of the diverse neological texts and their 3 4 5 6 7 Adam Pomorski, “Wstęp,” in Chlebnikow, Poezje wybrane, 7. Quotation from the fourth cover page in Wielemir Chlebnikow, Widziądz widziadeł bezkształtnych. Wiersze i teksty 1904–​1916, trans. A. Pomorski, Warszawa 2005. One also needs to recall important ties between Polish Futurism and the poetry of other Russians, e.g. the symbolist Andrey Bely and the Futurists Nikolai Aseyev (from the circle of Centrifuge), Vassily Kamensky (the Hylaea group), Konstantin Bolshakov (the “Mezzanine of Poetry” group). Selected poems by these writers shall provide the context for analyses, but the focus remains on relationships between the Polish movement and the poet who would consistently combine instrumentation and word formation: Khlebnikov. (A detailed analysis of relations between Polish and Russian Futurism goes beyond the scope of this book.) Anyway, knowledge of Khlebnikov surely could not have been deep at the beginning of the 1920s. His texts were available in Russia only in the chaotic form of Futurist almanacs and the volume Stikhi (1923) published by Miturich and Vera Khlebnikov. The first volume of collected works, edited by Stepanov, was published in Russian in 1928 (Tuwim and Siedlecki were familiar with it), i.e. after Futurism ended in Poland. Works by the “gnostic of the word” could have been also popularized by people arriving from Russia: J. Baudouin de Courtenay and T. Zieliński. Still, poets and painters who spent the war in Russia (Młodożeniec, Jasieński, Witkacy, Wierzyński) knew Futurism in its late “mutation” of Severyanin and Mayakovsky (basing on information provided by Adam Pomorski). Cf. 13, 16–​21. I leave aside Khlebnikov’s long poems, which contain far fewer neologisms and are often subordinate to non-​lyrical goals. Just like Vroon, I am predominantly interested in shorter poems that approximate the size of Polish Futurist texts they are compared with. For Author use only Velimir Khlebnikov’s “gnosis of language” 149 meaning. This finally serves as the basis for the classification developed in an attempt to answer the question about Khlebnikov’s impact on Polish Futurism. 1. V  elimir Khlebnikov’s “gnosis of language”* There have been many misunderstandings regarding Khlebnikov’s concept of poetry in Polish literary studies. Scholars describing the neological practices of Polish Futurists often refer to zaum –​“transrational” poetic language –​and the poem “Incantation by laughter” as an influential example. It seems necessary, however, to follow in the footsteps of Jan Śpiewak and Nikolai Stepanov, arguing that “zaum, so widely discussed in the context of Khlebnikov, was only one technique among the many he used and a relatively rare one at that.”8 Neological poetry, which is of special interest here, actually constituted –​as Khlebnikov himself claimed –​merely one step in the process of perfecting poetic speech. Poets, “dreaming of a universal language … would trace regularities, establish categories and introduce linguistic hierarchies”9 in an effort to achieve zaum and reach one of the final stages in the development of speech –​a process beginning with neological practices based on Slavic (primarily Russian) roots10 and leading to the discovery of primal linguistic wisdom.11 Zaum was only one among twenty dimensions of language identified by Khlebnikov (specifically –​of poetic language).12 In his view, language used to be * The specifically Neoplatonic and gnostic character of Khlebnikov’s thought was pointed out by Leszek Karczewski. The gnostic connection seems more justified than analyses focusing on Plotinus’s Neoplatonism due to the complex and multi-​ dimensional character of Khlebnikov’s theory as well as certain inconsistencies in his philosophy of language. 8 Jan Śpiewak, “Wstęp,” in Wielemir Chlebnikow, Poezje, trans. A. Kamieńska, S. Pollak, J. Śpiewak, Warszawa 1963, 45. Examples of zaum –​named by Khlabnikov as “a baby’s first cry” –​can be found in the text “Khudozniki mira!” (V. Khlebnikov, “Artists of the World!,” in V. Khlebnikov, Collected Works of Velimir Khlebnikov, Vol. 1, Letters and Theoretical Writings, trans. P. Schmidt, ed. Ch. Douglas, Cambridge, Massachusetts and London, England 1987, 369). 9 Andrzej Drawicz, “Chlebnikow –​mundi constructor,” in Zaproszenie do podróży. Szkice o literaturze rosyjskiej XX wieku, Kraków 1974, 35. Cf. also the in-​depth comments by Pomorski in Chlebnikow, Widziądz widziadeł bezkształtnych, 400–​1 (fn. 21) and 423–​4 (fn. 116). 10 The best known and widely represented type of Khlebnikov’s word formation is the “pan-​Slavist” kind developed mostly before 1909. 11 For more information on Khlebnikov’s “search for the whole” and the principles behind both language and history see Barbara Lönnqvist, Xlebnikov and Carnival, Stockholm 1979, 29–​31 ff. 12 See Velemir Khlebnikov, Tvoreniya, eds. M. J. Polakov, V. P. Grigoryev, A. E. Parnis, Moscow 1986, 483. Allegedly, Khlebnikov even proposed to develop a language of numbers, which could be used to label actions and images. It would be a common language across Asia (see Nikolai Stepanov, “Tvorczestvo Velimira Khlebnikova,” For Author use only 150 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism a powerful and sophisticated form of primordial speech –​Ursprache –​used by people, gods and nature, which was later unfortunately divided and became petrified.13 Accordingly, the gnostic rejected the arbitrariness of language signs. In the long poem Zangezi he demonstrates samples of seven linguistic dimensions (gnostic “eons,” as it were, which help to reach “linguistic fullness”).14 They can be briefly characterized by providing examples of the most unusual practices that illustrate Khlebnikov’s utopian (and to some degree grotesque) concept of language.15 Among the linguistic dimensions he distinguished: –​ sound-​painting (zvukopis’ in Russian), derived from symbolism,16 is a way of tracing correspondences between colours and speech sounds. According to Khlebnikov, labials (b, p, m, w) would correspond to darker colours (scarlet, black, dark blue, green), velars –​to pastels (k –​grey-​blue, g –​yellow), voiced consonants (z, b, g) –​to bright and intense colours (gold, red, bright yellow), while devoiced ones –​to muted colours (grey, black, grey-​blue).17 Synesthetic correspondences between colours and sounds appear in a poem written still before the concept of sound-​painting was formulated:18 13 14 15 16 17 18 in Velimir V. Khlebnikov, Sobranie sochineniy 1, Vol. 1: Poemy, ed. N. Stepanov, München 1968, 60; Jan Śpiewak, “Posłowie,” in Wielemir Chlebnikow, Włamanie do wszechświata, trans. A. Kamieńska, J. Śpiewak, Kraków 1972, 289). It is also possible that such ideas are related to Khlebnikov’s grotesque sense of humour. See also Marjorie Perloff, “Khlebnikov’s Soundscapes: Letter, Number, and the Poetics of Zaum,” in 21st-​Century Modernism: The ‘New’ Poetics, Malden, Mass. 2002, 121–​153. Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 8–​11. Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 9–​10. Various aspects of Khlebnikov’s theory are discussed by Barbara Lönnqvist, e.g.: “Polysemy and Puzzle in Modernism –​Velimir Chlebnikov,” in The Slavic Literatures and Modernism: A Nobel Symposium, August 5–​8 1985, ed. N. Å. Nilsson, Stockholm 1987, 71–​82. As Sobieska notes, Russian symbolists were particularly convinced about the neces­ sity to “tie the creative power of words with their sound” (Anna Sobieska, Twórczość Leśmiana w kręgu filozoficznej myśli symbolizmu rosyjskiego, Kraków 2005, 234). Cf. the first section of Chapter One. Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 182–​3. In this text (which implements principles of zwukopis) “neologisms are constructed using principles of non-​Russian phonology.” See Krystyna Pomorska, “Literatura a teoria literatury (szkoły poetyckie a teoria literatury na początku XX wieku u Rosjan i Polaków),” in American Contributions to the Fifth International Congress of Slavists –​Sofia 1963, The Hague [undated], 272. As Pomorski shows, the poem is modelled on Longefellow’s The Song of Hiawatha (non-​potential coinages play a role similar to fantastic proper names in the long poem, while metre also proves very important); moreover, there may be references to Kalevala. See Chlebnikow, Widziądz widziadeł bezkształtnych, 134–​5 (fn. 40). For Author use only Velimir Khlebnikov’s “gnosis of language” 151 Bobeobi pelis’ guby Veeomi pelis’ vzory Pieeo pelis’ brovi Lieeey –​pelsya oblik Gzi-​gzi-​gzeo pelas’ tsep’ Tak na kholste kakikh-​to sootvetstviy Vne protyazheniya zhilo Litso.19 Khlebnikov’s sound-​painting can be interpreted as follows: Lips are red (“b”), eyes are blue (“v,” “m”), brows –​black (“p”), face –​white (“l”), while the necklace is golden-​yellow (“g,” “z”). The “canvas proportions” translate into correspondences between colours and sounds, which blend, creating a new dimension that is no longer spatial.20 –​language of gods –​a type of a-​intellectual speech characterized by glossolalia and echolalia, appealing to emotions and referencing magical incantations, prayers and nursery rhymes (pagan gods use “the language of poetry appropriate for the age of humankind”21). General principles of communication are suspended, as evidenced in passages from the long poems “Notsch v Galitsyi” [A Night in Galicia] and “Zangezi:” Io ia colk, Io ia colk. Pits, pats, patsu, Pits, pats, patsa, Io ia tsolk, io ia tsolk, Kopotsamo, minogamo, pintso, pintso, pintso!22 19 Khlebnikov, Tvoreniya, 54. English translation: “Bobeobi sang the lips, veeomi sang the gazes, pieeo sang the brows, lieeey sang the aspect, gzi-​gzi-​gzeo sang the chain, so on a canvas of some sort of correspondences, beyond this dimension there lived a Face” (qtd. after Raymond Cooke, Velimir Khlebnikov: A Critical Study, Cambridge 2003, 84; alternative translation in Velimir Khlebnikov, Collected Works of Velimir Khlebnikow, Vol. 3, Selected Poems, trans. P. Schmidt, ed. R. Vroon, Cambridge, Massachusetts –​London, England 1997, 30). 20 Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 183. See Pomorska, “Literatura a teoria literatury,” 273. See also the commentary by Adam Pomorski in Chlebnikow, Widziądz widziadeł bezkształtnych, 134–​5, fn. 40. “Zvukopis’ ” also appears in passages from Zangezi. For example, the passages “Weo-​weya–​zelen dyeryeva” and “weeawa–​zelen tolp!” show that in Khlebnikov’s theory the sound “w” corresponds to the colour green (qtd. after Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 182). 21 Chlebnikow, Rybak nad morzem śmierci, 428, fn. 120. See also Perloff, “Khlebnikov’s Soundscapes.” 22 Chlebnikow, Widziądz widziadeł bezkształtnych, 276. The recalled passage is an almost literal quotation from an early 1840s book by Sacharow Skazanija russkogo naroda (after Pomorski). See also Zbigniew Barański, “Futuryzm w Rosji,” in Futuryzm i jego warianty w literaturze europejskiej, ed. J. Heistein, Wrocław 1977, 91. For Author use only 152 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism Gagaga ga gege ge! Grakha khata grororo;23 Emch, Amch, Umch, Dumchi, damchi, domchi, Makarako, kiocherk! Tsytsylytsy tsytsytsy, Kukariki kikiku!24 – zaum, i.e. transrational language “situated beyond the boundaries of ordinary reason,”25 employing “clusters of sounds imbued with feeling.”26 Poetic search for zaum involves discovering the semantics of individual phonemes. However, after decoding the meanings of certain sounds, zaum may become “intelligible to reason.”27 Unlike the language of the stars, zaum evokes certain emotions in readers; – language of stars –​the “intellect’s alphabet” that bases on the semantics of speech sounds;28 an all-​Earth language (“universal across the planet, or the ‘star’ ”);29 23 Velimir. V. Khlebnikov, Sobranie sochinenii 2, Vol. 3: Stikhotvorenya 1917–​1922, ed. N. Stepanov, München 1968, 339. 24 Qtd. after Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 188–​9. See also “Bogowie,” in Chlebnikow, Rybak nad morzem śmierci, 282–​91. 25 Khlebnikov, “Our Fundamentals,” 383. 26 Pomorski, “Wstęp,” 12. 27 Khlebnikov, “Our Fundamentals,” 383. See also Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 168–​83, 188–​92; Śpiewak, “Posłowie,” 289. Some scholars (see e.g.: Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 19–​ 21) consider zvukopis´, alongside the languages of stars, gods and birds as subcategories of zaum. The semantics of phonemes was also explored by Kruchyonykh (many authors were inspired by Baudouin de Courtenay’s theory of phonemes), although differently (see e.g. Pomorska, “Liteatura a teoria literatury,” 273–​4). 28 “Similarly to other Futurists, in his myth-​forming language structures Khlebnikov refers to works by Lev Shcherba (one of the founders of modern phonology, student of Baudouin de Courtenay) … The poet was particularly attracted to the concept of the phoneme … as both a phonetical and semantic unit. It was the fundamental assumption behind the, mathematically speaking, imaginary philology developed by the poet: his concept of the ‘language of stars’ as well as ‘internal inflection’ and ‘zaum’ in general, supposedly revealing hidden linguistic content” (a comment by Adam Pomorski in Chlebnikow, Rybak nad morzem śmierci, 132). See also Lönnqvist, Polysemy and Puzzle, 79 fn. 2. 29 Pomorski, “Wstęp,” 13: “[t]‌his concept arises from the assumption that forms of individual letters of the alphabet and the initial phonemes of roots express a specific type of movement in space, deciding about the character of the word itself.” See also Natalya Pertsova, Slovar’ neologizmov Velimira Khlebnikova, Wiener Slawischer Almanach, Sonderband 40, Wien-​Moskau 1995, 53–​60. For Author use only Velimir Khlebnikov’s “gnosis of language” 153 – decomposition (breakdown) of words; – language of birds –​imitating bird sounds;30 – irrational human speech (bezumnyy yazyk), which is far from the true wisdom of sounds. At this point, however, the focus shall remain on zaum, which is falsely identified with neological practises. In a text titled “Nasza osnowa” [Our Fundamentals] Khlebnikov discusses zaum using the image of a forest. As he argues, all this variety of leaves, of tree trunks and branches, was created from a handful of seeds, each one practically indistinguishable from the next; an entire forest of the future can fit in the palm of your hand. Word creation teaches us that all the enormous variety of words derives from the fundamental sounds of the alphabet, which are the seeds of words. From these basic elements the word is formed, and a letterday sower of languages can easily fill his palm with the twenty-​eight sounds of the Russian alphabet, the seeds of language.31 Thus, reverence for rules of syntax and word formation does not limit zaum as defined by Khlebnikov because transrational communication no longer needs the semantics of Slavic morphemes, nor does it care for the syntax of any specific ethnic language. Unlike in Kruchyonykh’s Dada-​like concept,32 Khlebnikov’s zaum was supposed to open a path to pure, primordial meanings and become the new, perfect means of communication.33 This could lead towards universal speech, or 30 See Chapter Three, fn. 205. 31 Khlebnikov, “Our Fundamentals,” in V. Khlebnikov, Collected Works, 376. 32 See Enno Stahl, Anti-​Kunst und Abstraktion in der literarischen Moderne (1909–​1933). Vom italienischen Futurismus bis zum französischen Surrealismus, Frankfurt am Main 1997, 135–​8, 146–​56; Seweryn Pollak, Niepokoje poetów, Kraków 1972, 94–​9; Seweryn Pollak, “ ‘Izmy’ i ‘schizmy’,” in Wyprawy za trzy morza, Warszawa 1962, 113–​8. Cf. also further findings in this chapter. 33 Khlebnikov’s mathematical and logical ideas can be seen as belonging with the tradition developed since Pythagoras, Plato, Descartes and Leibniz –​philosophers seeking a universal language different from the ambiguous everyday speech unsuitable for scientific enquiry (the only difference being that Khlebnikov was interested in poetic language). Leibniz considered letters (viewing them as speech sounds) as carriers of basic meanings. The Russian poet drew general and rather obvious conclusions that, for example, “l” indicates a quiet swoosh, while “r” is dynamic and describes movement (see e.g.: Śpiewak, “Posłowie,” 290). Euphonic effects and associations between colours and sounds were also discussed by M. K. Sarbiewski and A. W. Schlegel (e.g. “ ‘A’ perfectly expresses dignity, pride, nobility” –​Sarbiewski; “ ‘A’ is red, although could also be white, expressing youth, joy, splendour” –​ Schlegel. Qtd. after Maria R. Mayenowa, Poetyka teoretyczna. Zagadnienia języka, Wrocław 2000, 413–​4). Khlebnikov considerably developed and “subjectivized” these theories. See also Joanna Ślósarska, Syntagmatyka poetycka, Warszawa 1995, 151–​3. In the context of Khlebnikov’s thought one should also recall the ideas of Alexander Potebnya, who studied the word’s “internal form” in a neo-​Humboldtian spirit. See For Author use only 154 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism poetry approximating science34 –​a lyricism in which every phoneme would be meaningful. Hanna Prosnak rightly notes that “ ‘transrational language’ is not a method but a demand for new semantics. The method meant to help develop it would consist in comparing meanings [words of similar sound].”35 However, we must remember that this discussion remains on the level of poetic language and not that of linguistics or everyday communication. The specificity of Khlebnikov’s pursuit of the semantics of particular phonemes, conducted by juxtaposing similar-​ sounding words (also old Slavic ones), is demonstrated in a passage from the poem “Slovo o El” [Word of El]: Kogda lezhu ya na lezhanke Na lozhe loga na lugu, Ya sam iz tela sdelal lodku I len na telo upadaet Lenivets, lodyr’ ili lodka, kto ya? … Kogda my legkhi, my letim. Kogda s lyud’mi my, lyudi, legkhi. Lyubim. Lyubimye lyudimy. El’-​eto lyogkhie Leli Tochek vozvyshennyy liven,’ … El’ put’ tochki s vysoty, Ostanovlennyy shyrokoy Ploskostyu. V lyubvi sokryt prikaz Lyubit’ lyudey, … Sila dvizheniya, umen’shennaya Ploshchadyu prilozheniya, –​eto El’ Takov silovoy pribor, Skrytyy za El.’.36 Edward Balcerzan, “Magia słowa,” in Oprócz głosu, Warszawa 1971, 16; Krystyna Pomorska, Russian Formalist Theory and Its Poetic Ambiance, The Hague 1968, 62–​3. 34 See Jurij Tynianow, “O Chlebnikowie,” trans. J. Lenarczyk, in Fakt literacki, ed. E. Korpała-​Kirszak, Warszawa 1978, 203. 35 Hanna Prosnak, “Koncepcja ‘języka’ w ujęciu Wielimira Chlebnikowa,” Łódź 1986 (manuscript), 69. See also Perloff, “Khlebnikov’s Soundscapes.” 36 Khhlebnikov, Sobranie sochineniy 2, Vol. 3: Stikhotvorenia 1917–​1922, 71–​2; emphasis (bold) added, italics in origial. [And when I lay at the laying place, /​A shoal-​bed among meadows, /​I made my body into a boat, /​Laziness overcomes my body. /​Lazy, scallywag or a sailing boat, what am I? /​… /​When we’re light –​we fly. /​When people are gentle with each other –​we like it. Liking –​populous. /​El –​ these are the light Leles. /​Leaves lifted by the flood of rain. /​… /​El –​it is the path For Author use only Velimir Khlebnikov’s “gnosis of language” 155 Khlebnikov claims that: Lorenz’s universal law says that a body flattens itself in a direction diametrical to the point of stress. But this law is the very content of the “simple name” l –​whether this l name means strap [liamka], vane [lopast’], leaf of a tree [list dereva], ski [lyzha], paw [lapa], puddle of a cloud burst [luzha livnia], meadow [lug], stove bench [leshanka]. In all cases a force ray of motion spreads out across the wide transverse ray of a surface, until it achieves a point of equilibrium with the counterforce. … Did language know anything about the transverse oscillation of a ray, a vortex-​ray? … It is evident that language is as wise as nature, and only now with the growth of science are we discovering how to read it.37 The poet describes his newly discovered principles of sound semantics in the following way: “1) The initial consonant of a simple word governs all the rest –​it commands the remaining letters.38 2) Words that begin with an identical consonant share some identical meaning; it is as if they were drawn from various directions to a single point in the mind.”39 For example, the sound “tsch” (“ч”) suggests that words beginning with it describe how the volume of one body fills another, empty body, e.g. “chasha” [cup], “chara” [bowl], “chelnok” [canoe], “cherep” [skull]. of the point from the height /​Stopped by the broad /​Plane. /​In love an order is hiding /​To like people, /​… /​The force of movement softened /​By the origin –​this is El. This is the services of forces /​Hiding in El]. For more on the search for the semantics of sounds see Olga Siedakowa, “Obraz fonemu w ‘Słowie o El’ Wielimira Chlebnikowa,” trans. A. Tanalska, Literatura na Świecie 2 (1984), 224–​30; Barbara Lönnqvist, “Sztuka jako zabawa w futuryzmie,” trans. A. Pomorski, Literatura na Świecie 2 (1984), 92. See also the Khlebnikov’s long poetic lecture on the semantics of sounds, syllables and numbers “Carapina po nebu,” in Khlebnikov, Sobranie sochineniy 2, Vol. 3: Stikhotvoreniya 1917–​1922, 75–​86 (an interesting comment in Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 169–​71) and Khlebnikov’s article “Let us consider two words,” in Khlebnikov, Collected Works of Velimir Khlebnikov, 266–​ 71. See also the poem “Chisla” (English translation: “Numbers,” in Khlebnikov, Collected Works of Velimir Khlebnikow, Vol. 3, 39) and the Khlebnikov’s article “Our Foundamentals.” 37 Khlebnikow, “Our Fundamentals,” 378 (transcription after the quoted translation). 38 This can be connected with the undeniable role of initial alliteration (but also with ascribing a special role to one’s initials) –​all correspondences in onsets are much clearer than in other positions. 39 Chlebnikow, “Our Fundamentals,” 384. Analysis of the phonic shape of words also led to the formulation of the thesis about the internal declination of words (see Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 18, 162–​5; Pomorska, Russian Formalist Theory, 95). According to Khlebnikov, “byk” [bull] and “bok” [side] are two variants of the same word because the former is the one who strikes, while the side is the place he hits (Śpiewak, “Posłowie,” 291; Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 168–​9; Nikolai Stepanov, Velimir Khlebnikov. Zhizn i tvorchestvo, Moskva 1975, 138–​ 47; Prosnak, “Koncepcja ‘języka’,” 45–​8). For Author use only 156 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism Hence “chaiat” [to expect] means “to be a cup for water that is yet to come.”40 He adds: “Thus ch is not merely a sound, ch is a name, an indivisible unit unit of language. If it turns out that ch has identical meaning in all languages, then the problem of a universal language is solved.”41 Let us recall his para-​linguistic anal­ yses of other sounds. Khlebnikov argues that “the word khata [hut] means hut in Russian and also in Egyptian, and v signifies ‘turn’ or ‘return’ in the Indo-​European languages. If we take the word khata as a model, we find khizhina [shack], khalupa [hutch], khutor [farmstead], khram [temple], khranilishche [depository] we see that the meaning of kh is a boundary line between one point and another point in motion toward it. The meaning of v is to be found in the turning of one point around another fixed point. Whence vir [whirlpool], vol [ox], vorot [gate], v’iuga [snowstorm], vikhr’ [whirlwind] and many others.”42 The graphic representation of “ch” is two joined lines and a point, while that of “w” –​a circle with a point in the middle.43 Having explained the meaning of all consonants (apart from “f”),44 he concludes that zaum is “the universal language of the future, although it is still in an embryonic state. It alone will be able to unite all people. Rational languages have separated them.”45 40 41 42 43 Khlebnikov, “Our Fundamentals,” 384. Khlebnikov, “Our Fundamentals,” 384. Khlebnikov, “Our Fundamentals,” 384–​5. Examples: “n” –​clear field, no points; “sh” –​blending of several surfaces; “l” –​ circus and axes of symmetry; “c” –​transition of one body through a gap in another. Examples in the main text and note, qtd. after Chlebnikow, “Our Fundamentals,” 106–​7; Prosnak, “Koncepcja ‘języka’,” 45–​8. 44 This sound did not exist in proto-​Slavic [!]‌. 45 Chlebnikow, “Our Fundamentals,” 385. However, not everything was clear and coherent for Khlebnikov. He would argue that the system of vowels has not been examined enough. See also his detailed argumentation in the text text “Khudozniki mira!” [Artists of the World!], where he concludes: “from our landing on the staircase of thinkers, it has become clear that the simple bodies of a language –​the sounds of the alphabet –​are then names of various aspects of space, an enumeration of the events of its life. The alphabet common to a multitude of peoples is in fact a short dictionary of the spatial world that is of such concern to your art, painters, and to your brushes” (Khlebnikov, “Artists of the World!,” 367). Khlebnikov thus describes his vision of the future alphabet: “The artists’ task would be to provide a special sign for each type of space. Each sign must be simple and clearly distinguishable from all the rest. It might be possible to resort to the use of color, and to designate M (m) with dark blue, B (v) with green, Б (b) with red, C (s) with gray, Л (l) with white, and so on. But it might also be possible for this universal dictionary, the shortest in existence, to rtain only graphic signs” (Khlebnikov, “Artists of the World!,” 367). Khlebnikov developed his own designs for new letters of the alphabet. For Author use only Velimir Khlebnikov’s “gnosis of language” 157 This degree of utopian abstraction (achieved partially in works like the hermetic long poem Zangezi) can elude linguists and historians of literature. From the point of view of the present enquiry it is vital, however, to tie in many cases the attempts to establish the meaning of phonemes with questions of instrumentation, leading to the construction of catalogues of similar-​sounding words, often forming etymological and pseudo-​etymological figures46 or anagrams that introduce homophony in certain passages. One interesting example is a passage from “Pen’ pan” [Lord of froth]: U vod ya podumal o bese I o sebe, Nad ozyerom sidya na pne. W reke proplyvayushchiy pen’ pan, … Ivy. Bolshoy, kak i vy. I mnogo nevestneyshikh vdov vod, Presledoval um moy kak ovod, …47 However, let us recall that Khlebnikov’s poems, whose influence was greatest in Russian and European poetry, were mainly based on the kind of word formation that is rooted in the potential of the Russian language. Although texts by Polish Futurists feature devices that could be linked with the described non-​neological tic experimenting on the part of the Russian poet, any claims of Khlebnikov’s zaum having inspired the neological poems written by Polish Futurists seems to be a gross oversimplification. Thus, it becomes necessary to describe the assumptions and principles of the neological practices developed by Khlebnikov. He argues that word formation helps to avoid petrification of speech –​it does not violate the laws of language but rather offers a means of sustaining its vitality.48 Finally, it would aid in rediscovering the 46 Differentiating between etymological and pseudo-​etymological figures can be dif­ ficult in a synchronic approach. Modern language users sometimes find it difficult to ascertain whether certain sound similarities are random or somehow (obliquely) motivated. This study attempts to marry synchrony and diachrony. In descriptions of poetic etymologies and pseudo-​etymologies efforts are made to establish the source of words. However, such linguistic ventures meet with obstacles and sometimes we should underscore the special role of contemporary, synchronic impressions of closer relations between words. 47 Velimir. V. Khlebnikov, Sobranie sochineniy 1, Vol. 2: Tvoreniya 1906–​1916, ed. N. Stepanov, München 1968, 218; emphasis added. Translation after Chlebnikow, Poezje, 87 (trans. into Polish J. Śpiewak): “At the waters I thought of the devil, /​ Remembering, /​Sitting at a trunk by the lake. /​Travelling down the river was the Froth Lord, /​… /​Great sallows. /​Large as you, /​And many betrothed widows of waters /​A procession of horseflies torment my brain.” 48 Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 7. For Author use only 158 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism lost wisdom and richness of speech. The primary goal, however, would consist in establishing the rules of transrational language –​zaum.49 Khlebnikov expressed his desire To find –​without breaking the circle of roots –​the magic touchstone of all Slavic words, the magic that transforms one into another, and so freely to fuse all Slavic words together: this was my first approach to language. This self-​sufficient language stands outside historical fact and everyday utility. I observed that the roots of words are only phantoms behind which stand the strings of the alphabet, and so my second approach to language was to find the unity of the world’s languages in general, built from units of the alphabet. A path to a universal beyonsense language.50 In order to conduct a fuller analysis of Polish poems, allow me to specify what devices shaping the sound of the poem are employed in the neological poetry of Khlebnikov, “one of the most prolific ‘neologists’ in the history of the Russian language.”51 Ronald Vroon describes in detail the various types of word formation found in the poet’s works (this discussion disregards the non-​systematic, echolalic or glossolalic configurations of sounds, which include, for example, the language of gods). The largest body of neologisms (almost sixty per cent) have been derived in accordance with the principles of word formation in the Russian language.52 A much smaller category (ca twenty-​five per cent of all neologisms) comprises words built using suffixes that prove difficult to describe synchronically, or known affixes combined with “wrong” parts of speech (from the perspective of the principles of word formation), the “non-​grammatical” ones.53 The last and smallest group (ca eighteen per cent of all Khlebnikov’s neologisms) consists of agrammatical ones created for example by joining roots and word fragments (that are not morphemes) which appear in other lexemes. These neologisms deviate from grammatical rules, often pretending to be guided by non-​existing word formation principles.54 49 Khlebnikov would refer to the metaphor of a language tree whose roots are divine, while words-​leaves have been created by humans. If we wish to return to linguistic unity with gods, we need to go back to the roots of language, one path leading through the exploration of word formation (Prosnak, “Koncepcja ‘języka’,” 27). 50 Velemir Khlebnikov, “Self-​Statement,” in Khlebnikov, Collected Writings, Vol. 1, 147. In “Kurgan Svyatogora” [The Burial Mound of Sviatagor] the poet writes about “the tree trunk about which a seeming vortex moves the Slavic languages, those beautiful, diversificating leaves” and “the common Slavic word, the vortex circle that fuses tchem all into one single general circle” (Velimir Khlebnikov, “The Burial Mound of Sviatagor,” in Khlebnikov, Collected Works, Vol. I, 235). 51 Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 4. 52 In the dictionary of Khlebnikov’s neologisms they comprise as many as ca eighty-​ three per cent (see Piercowa, Słowar’ nieołogizmow, 21). 53 Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 100. 54 See Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 100. For Author use only Velimir Khlebnikov’s “gnosis of language” 159 The neological current in Khlebnikov’s poetry is represented by “Incantation by Laughter” (quoted in Introduction)55 as well as the untranslatable “Chernyi Lyubir ([Ya smeyarysnya…])” or “[Pomiral moren’…]:”56 Ya smeyarysnya smekhochestv smehistelinno beru, Neraskayannych khokhochestv Kin’ zlooku –​gubiryu. Pust’ gopochich, pust’ chochotchich Gopo gop gopopey, Slovom divnykh zastrekochet Nas serdtsami zakipey. V etikh glazkakh ved’ glazishchem, Ty motri, motri za gorkoy Podymaetsya luna! U smeshlivogo Yegorki Est’ zvenyashchie zvena. Milari zovut tak sladko Potuzhit’ za lesom sovkoy. Ay! Akh, na toy gorke Est’ cvetochek kumanka-​zamanka.57 Pomiral moren,’ morimyy moritsey Veryen v verimoye veritsy. Umiral v morilyakh moren’ Veryen v vyerocha verni. Obmiral moreya moren.’ Veryen veritvam Vyerany. Priobmyor moryazhski moren’ Veryen verovi vyeryazhya.58 As these examples show, when creating neologisms, the poet would usually use Russian or Old Russian roots and affixes59 (less often ones borrowed from other Slavic languages)60 or “quasi-​affixes” and artificial roots that could be regarded 55 See p. 40. 56 See also Khlebnikov, Collected Works, Vol. 3, 27–​32; Chlebnikow, Widziądz widziadeł bezkształtnych, 18–​36, 61–​68; Chlebnikow, Rybak nad morzem śmierci, 87–​95. 57 Khlebnikov, Sobranie sochineniy 1, Vol. 2: Tvorienia 1906–​1916, 100. 58 Khlebnikov, Sobranie sochineniy 1, Vol. 2: Tvorenia 1906–​1916, 44. 59 Khlebnikov would often resort to archaic derivations, using formants that are both productive and not in regular speech (Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 17). 60 Vroon also mentions roots of Polish, Croatian, Ukrainian and Serbian origin. For Author use only 160 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism as properly Slavic.61 These neologisms would also have the quality of sty­ listic archaisms. In most cases these are suffix-​based nouns, e.g. “smeyunchiki,” “smeyevo,” “veryaz,” “moren’,” “smekhochestvo,” “khokhochestv,” “lyubavitsa,” “lyubavets,” “lyubistyel’;”62 sometimes they would be formed as a contamination of two existing nouns (“divo” +​“nebesa” =​“divyesa”).63 Neologisms performing the function of adjectives (“nadsmyeyalny”), adverbs (“smekhistyelinno,” “lyubno,” “bratno”) and verbs (“smyeyanstvuyut”)64 are much more rare.65 As the above poems by Khlebnikov show, lexical neologisms are often embedded in etymological figures and various anagrammatic configurations –​devices aiming to “derive meanings from a shared foundation.”66 61 One example of an agrammatical neologism is “lobzebro” formed similarly to the word “serebro.” The root “lobz” (ros. lobzat is an archaic version of the verb “to kiss”) is accompanied by the pseudo-​suffix “-​ebr(o).” Vroon gives another interesting example: “ ‘Gniestr’ is a neologism modelled on the name of the River Dniester and seems morphologically indivisible. However, by using phonically similar words (‘Dniestr,’ ‘Mniestr,’ ‘ogniestr,’ ‘wolestr’), Khlebnikov provides an ‘instruction’ that facilitates isolating the ‘root’ ‘gne’ that would connote death and destruction, while the suffix ‘-​str’ means ‘fast-​flowing’ or –​more broadly –​‘occurring rapidly and violently’ ” (Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 30). Among agrammatical neologisms there are also words that differ from ordinary, regular lexemes only by a consonant in the onset (“britwa” –​“mritwa;” “prawda” –​“nrawda”) (Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 165). These neologisms perfectly imitate Old Russian. 62 Examples from: “Zaklyatiye smekhom” (Khlebnikov, Tvorieniya, 54), “Chernyi Lyubir,” “[Pomiral moren’…],” “Lyubavitsa” (19). In the last poem we find parallel structures typical of Khlebnikov (and connected with the structures of folk poetry): “Ja lyubavets! Ja krasavets!;” “Ja lyubistel! Ja negistel” (see also Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 29; Piercowa, Slovar’ neologizmov). 63 Prosnak, “Koncepcja ‘języka’,” 31. The goal of such measures was to combine the meanings of “added” roots (ibidem). According to Vroon, in Khlebnikov’s poetry compounds comprise only eight and a half per cent 5 % of all neologisms (six per cent of all nouns of this type), whereas in Mayakovsky such formations amount to twenty per cent of all nouns (Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 74). 64 Examples of neologisms representing the categories of verbs, adjectives and adverbs from: “Zaklyatiye smekhom,” “Chernyi Lyubir” and the study by Vroon (Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 125). 65 For an extensive list of Khlebnikov’s neologisms with description see Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems 38–​188; Piercowa, Slovar’ neologizmov. See also Stepanov, Velimir Khlebnikov, 126–​33. 66 Prosnak, “Koncepcja ‘języka’,” 31. This “strategy” of Khlebnikov is certainly not inno­ vative for such ideas were known to symbolists from various countries. As Antoni Lange wrote, “True, precise metaphors are found in the structure of language. The deepest symbolism is contained in words ‘bohater’ [hero], ‘bogaty’ [rich], ‘ubogi’ [poor], ‘zboże’ [grain], which come from God. Language is one big metaphor or symbol. Poetry is a metaphor elevated to the highest degree… Symbolism has For Author use only “Secret speech” 161 We should emphasize once again that Khlebnikov’s linguistic explorations –​ strongly tied to the question of instrumentation –​would not always strive to amass words, including neologisms, that share the same root. The poet would often juxtapose unrelated words that sound similarly, believing in their semantic proximity, which was supposedly proven by the homophony achieved in a given poem or some of its passages (in search of zaum).67 The two operations that are crucial for further considerations are: gathering words (including neologisms) constructed around the same root morpheme and juxtaposing similar-​sounding yet unrelated words. One also needs to bear in mind that in Khlebnikov’s works utilizing these techniques neologisms follow the language’s syntactic structures (therefore not referencing parole in libertà). Discussion of Khlebnikov’s concept of poetry and artistic strategy introduces a comparative analysis of texts composed by Polish Futurists. Neological poems written in Poland can be divided into three groups depending on the function played in them by word formation. This categorization is also largely related to the specificity and frequency of poetic neologising, which determines the meaning of certain passages and sometimes even the meaning of entire poems. 2. “ Secret speech” The most radically neological, untranslatable experiments of Polish Futurism are “namopaniki”68 by Aleksander Wat.69 They display, to the highest degree, existed for centuries” (qtd. after Kazimierz Wyka, Młoda Polska, Vol. 1: Modernizm polski, Kraków 1977, 249). 67 Cf. the following poem by Khlebnikov, which is based on two roots known in Russian (“czar” and “czur,” which appear in words such as “charar” [a wizard casting spells], “churatsya” [to protect oneself from evil forces by saying “chur”]; Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 42): “My charuemsya i churaemsya. /​ Tam charuyas`, zdes’ churayas,’ /​To churachar, to charachar, /​Iz churyni wzor czaryni. /​Jest czurawiel, jest czarawiel. /​Czarari! Czurari! /​Czuriel! Czariel! /​ Czariesa i czuriesa. /​I czurajsia i charuysya” (Khlebnikov, Sobranie sochineniy 1, Vol. 2: Tvorieniya 1906–​1916, 42. For commentary see Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 42, 133). 68 An unclear term coined by Wat and probably meant to label a genre, perhaps with some relation to the words of the prayer “nam, o Panie” [Us, O Lord] (as argued by P. Pawlak) or as an anagram of “mania” and “panic” (as suggested by A. Pomorski). The latter interpretation may be confirmed by the fact that the cover of Nieśmiertelny tom futuryz by A. Stern and A. Wat (Warszawa 1921) features the words: “namo! panik.” 69 Contrary to what certain scholars claim (e.g. Maria Cyranowicz, “Sursecesyjne ruiny Wata (próba reinterpretacji ‘Piecyka’),” in W “antykwariacie anielskich ekstrawagancji.” O twórczości Aleksandra Wata, eds. J. Borowski, W. Panas, Lublin 2002, 23), I must indicate that Piecyk is not a literary proof of fascination with Khlebnikov’s neologising. It also needs to be emphasized that –​as namopaniki For Author use only 162 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism Khlebnikov’s method of repeating roots. The following analysis covers three works: “Namopanik charuna” [Namopanik of charun], “Namopańik Barwistanu” [Namopańik of Colourland] and a slightly earlier text, which can be also regarded as a “namopanik” due to many similarities –​“Żywoty” [Lives].70 The last piece reads: I kosujka na białopiętrzach sfrunęła i płonącoręką dobiedrza złotogórzy i podgórza i rozgór tu grały namopaniki Po nikach czarnoważe ważki i grajce rozgarniać krawędzi żółciebiesów i rozwrażon i tragowąszcz i trawągoszcz gąszcze zielone, zielone, zielone! na tramwajach tram na wyjach trawa! i kosujka płonąc tak i płomyki płomień rozpłonecznionych bezpłonięć dopłonąć, dopłonąć, płonacze i płonaczki spłonący płomieńczarze białouście! daj białouściech! Gdzie kosujka płonęła płomieniem płonących płoń? O! gdzie? i ty karcze karczyno róż znuż rzęs i ty karczem do karczem pędzące niebo i nieba przyszły siwe nagłe banie nieba i kosujka płacze płaczem płaczących szczęk. (Ant. 277–​278; emphasis preserved) This work is rightly compared with Khlebnikov’s “Zaklyatiye smekhom” [Incantation by laughter]. Just like the latter, the poem “Żywoty” features strings of neologisms forming etymological figures built around one root in accordance with principles of word formation (e.g. potential coinages “exploiting” the root “płon/​płomn” [fire /​burn /​flame], that may be interpreted as names of creatures that are variously connected with fire, e.g. “płonacze i płonaczki spłonący płomieńczarze”). In the homophonic catalogues, non-​ existing words sit next to regular lexemes from everyday language (“płacze płaczem płaczących” [cries with the cry of crying], “płonęła płomieniem płonących” [burned with the fire of burning]; in Khlebnikov: “smekh” [laughter], “zasmetes’ ” [(do) laugh], “smeiutsia” [(they) laugh]). The use of techniques developed by the Russian poet in parts of the poem (in one or several lines) –​specifically the juxtaposing of single-​root demonstrate well –​Wat was a higly untypical Futurist (see Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Regresywny futurysta,” in Polowanie na postmodernistów (w Polsce), Kraków 1999, 182–​200; see also Janusz Olejniczak, “ ‘Ja to ktoś inny.’ Przygody podmiotu Aleksandra Wata,” in Tkanina. Studia. Szkice. Interpretacje, eds. A. Węgrzyniak, T. Stępień, Katowice 2003, 220). 70 See Jarosław Płuciennik, Figury niewyobrażalnego, Kraków 2002, 188; Jarosław Płuciennik, “Namopanik,” Zagadnienia Rodzajów Literackich 1–​2 (2000), 251. For Author use only “Secret speech” 163 paronyms –​causes the instrumentation and word formation to be closely connected in this text. As it turns out, the lines that are most distinct in terms of sound are the ones clearly marked by word formation and creative etymology. Amassing words that are phonically close and have either set meaning or one that is only implied makes the text semantically nebulous.71 The strong correlation between instrumentation and word formation is foregrounded, while semantics undergoes partial elision as the presented reality becomes mysterious, unclear and any senses are merely suggested: the textual agens is the semantically and morphologically obscure “kosujka” –​perhaps a bird similar to blackbird [kos] or jay [sójka], which is lost in a thicket [gąszcz] of grass [trawa] (“trawągoszcz” –​perhaps an anagram of the neological yet understandable “trawogąszcz” [grass thicket]), although there can be no certainty about this.72 Semantic ambiguity is augmented by another device used by Khlebnikov, namely imbuing the text with neologisms that imitate archaic words and forms of expression (“podgorzać,” “białouście;” plural nouns: “płonia,” “wyje;” and phrases: “daj białouściech,” “do karczem”). “Żywoty” is an expressive poem that exhibits the possibilities of Polish grammar, although it employs a semantically opaque, synchronic-​diachronic language that combines contemporary words with ones imitating bygone lexis and inflection. Moreover, basing the poem on a limited number of roots that undergo various word formation procedures naturally limits the possibility to narrate a story. Narrowing the morphological scope brings Wat’s namopanik closer to the neological poetry of Khlebnikov. However, Wat notably uses more roots than the Russian in his famous neological works quoted above. As a result, the plot of “Żywoty” plays out on a richer semantic field and is thus more complex and unclear than poems like “Zaklyatiye smekhom” (one root) or “[Pomiral moren’…]” (two roots). Finally, I must foreground that Wat’s serious narrative, which echoes ancient Slavic stories, is distorted by a perfectly matching yet semantically distant word –​ “tramwaje” [trams]. Thus, one intricate neological figure73 –​as used by Khlebnikov in his search for zaum –​features two words covering very different semantic fields. The homophonic haunted speech loses the sense of offering something archaic and sacred74 as the semantic dissonance inclines one to suspect that Khlebnikov’s 71 Roman Ingarden’s term describing “mirohłady” –​texts close to Wat’s namopaniki (Roman Ingarden, “Graniczny wypadek dzieła literackiego,” in Szkice z filozofii literatury, Łódź 1947, 92). A broader discussion of Ingarden’s concept and an analysis of relations between asemantic works is contained further in this section. 72 See Helena Zaworska, “Nurt ‘Nowej Sztuki’,” in Literatura polska 1918–​1975, Vol. 1, eds. A. Brodzka, H. Zaworska, S. Żółkiewski, Warszawa 1975, 370. Adam Dziadek noticed in this phrase “a contamination of the words ‘sójka’ [jay] and ‘kosówka’ [mountain pine]” (Wat, Wz 58). 73 A feigned neologism would be a variant of pseudo-​ etymology. See Lucylla Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, Wrocław 1977, 35–​6. 74 Płuciennik rightly notes that parody is accompanied in namopaniki by “a nostalgia for the inexpressible and the unrepresentable” (Płuciennik, “Namopanik,” 253). For Author use only 164 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism technique is employed in this poem with a pinch of salt. Its use may not imply serious, systemic (and systematic) study of the possibility to construct new poetic languages, but rather offers a pretext to present the potential to conduct artistic operations on words. “Żywoty” can be fruitfully compared with another piece that exposes its sound dimension –​“Namopańik Barwistanu” [Namopańik of Colourland]: baarwy w arwah arabistanu wrabacają wracabają poowracają racają na baranah w ranah jak na narah araba han. abraam w myrrah z bramraju wybieera nab bogawę narrawę byh nad boogawotami boogowatami trombowali barwiotacze oracze barwiotucze obrucze barwotęcze obręcze. Karawaany –​o wronacze w złotawah zwiastabiawali wojnawicz i w pysznawah banawiali księżocyle wiatrawili wihrony i wihroby wihrobiny śmierćiwgony gorewiny. O gorale gorawale –​w grodalah myczohi –​goremyki. gwiazdowory wewrykali świećawry i gwiaźdź śmierćostry babiał na liśćoczu drzewobanu ńebiatuszek. O barwy o baruwy –​o raby barbaruw, barany herubuw o barwicze o czabary –​babuw czary, o bicze rabuw o barwiasy o syrawy –​o basy wiary, o bary ras! o barwionki o barwoczy o barwiony o barwohi o barwigie o barwalie o barwiecze o barwiole o kroony barw! O krale koloruuw –​o bawoły barw o każdyći barwoh kral w ńebiopaszńi –​o każdyći barwoh kraluje nogahi na smierćeży –​takoh na czarnoszczu kraluje wszem kolorom białość i po śmierćeży powendrujem do oraju do ograju Barwistanu (Ant. 281–​282) At first glance, both works –​strongly alliterative and homophonic75 –​appear sim­ ilar as both are based on strings of paronymic neologisms and in both the unusual phonic dimension is conditioned by numerous neological efforts. Still, the coupling of sound and neologism is even stronger in “Namopańik Barwistanu” than in “Żywoty” due to numerous and longer strings of neologisms that share etymology. More space ought to be devoted to the morphology of neologisms in “Namopańik Barwistanu” as it is a vital issue form the perspective of both instrumentation and semantics. 75 Pietrych even argues that the “Barwistan” tale is about the “ ‘adventures’ of sounds ‘a,’ ‘r’ and ‘b’ ” (Krystyna Pietrych, “W chaosie i nicości. O młodzieńczych utworach Aleksandra Wata,” in Pamięć głosów. O twórczości Aleksandra Wata, ed. W. Ligęza, Kraków 1992, 79). For Author use only “Secret speech” 165 “Namopańik” carries many associations with the Bible76 and more broadly with the culture of the Middle East, which is directly evoked through specific proper names (“Barwistan” [Colourland];77 “abraam” [Abraham?]) and words like “myrrah” [myrrh], “heruby” [cherubs], “karawaany” [caravans]. The key to the recognition of other semantic connotations is to conduct an analysis of neological innovations. In “Żywoty,” the author abides, with just a few exceptions, by the rules of word formation in the Polish language (it suffices to recall the feast of neologisms based on the root “płon/​płom” [fire]), but in “Namopańik Barwistanu” word formation “sounds foreign.”78 Neologisms also perform a stylizing function, giving the text a clearly non-​Slavic flavour. Unusual neological constructions (non-​ potential neologisms with mysterious affixes and recognizably Polish roots) incline one to seek additional linguistic and cultural contexts in which this namopanik could be placed. Neologisms like “bogawa” or “boogowatami” can be associated with Sanskrit names and Middle Eastern culture, additionally introducing connotations with Hindu religion. However, these contexts are actualized in a rather tongue-​in-​cheek manner: the poet inserts his own last name –​“Wat”79 –​into one of the words that appear to be related to the sphere of the sacred (by introducing the slightly changed root “bog” –​“boogowatami”);80 “wat” is also present in Hindu names of deities, e.g. Parvati, Saraswati. Furthermore, some of the endings of neologisms (“-​wa,” “-​mi”) can be associated with Indian culture because they are also Sanskrit conjugation suffixes that can be associated with words like “Tandava” (a vigorous 76 Jarosław Płuciennik, “Awangardowy ‘święty bełkot’ Wata,” in Szkice o poezji Aleksandra Wata, eds. J. Brzozowski, K. Pietrych, Warszawa 1999, 36; Adam Dziadek, Rytm i podmiot w liryce Jarosława Iwaszkiewicza i Aleksandra Wata, Katowice 1999, 104; Beata Śniecikowska, “Religious Traces within Polish Futurism: Entangled Ways of the Sacred,” International Yearbook of Futurism Studies 2021, Vol. 11, 177–​9. 77 See Jarosiński’s commentary to “Namopańik Barwistanu” in Ant. 282. 78 See Płuciennik, “Awangardowy ‘święty bełkot’,” 30. Neologisms stylized as Old Polish archaisms appear rarely there. As counterbalance, one could invoke “Przekwinty” by Antoni Lange, a hardly translatable poem that is par excellence Slavic and stylized to resemble Old Polish: “Śród kieretni kszcie wangroda! /​Pod jabrzędów charaziną /​Stoi gryfna brzana młoda –​/​Z ócz jej śluzy plosem ryną. /​Ni feteciem ani kwieciem /​Ani jaklą –​ochajona –​/​Po zamorach –​stoi w gzorach –​/​ Ostorniała i zaćmiona. /​W duk chachuli się –​w pociemno –​/​Marykuje, kniazi, blada –​/​Ostawiła chyz i dziada… /​Ach –​do korząt jej czeremno!” (qtd. after Julian Tuwim, Cicer cum caule, czyli groch z kapustą. Panopticum i archiwum kultury, ed. J. Hurwic, Warszawa 1958, 60–​1). 79 This “self-​ironic signature” is also noted by Płuciennik in “Awangardowy ‘święty bełkot’,” 39. 80 It is worth adding that the Polish and Sanskrit roots are almost identical: in Sanskrit “bhag-​” means “bóg” [god]. In this namopanik one can also discern the phrase “wotów Boga” [God’s votive] that has similar semantic connotations (the phrase “nad boogawotami”). For Author use only 166 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism dance of Shiva), “Shiva,” “Lakshmi.” Besides, the work contains textual words that allude –​through word formation or inflection –​to Ruthenian languages (“na czarnoszczu”) and even perhaps to Spanish (“o barwiole”). Ascribing numerous other affixes to specific language systems seems nearly impossible. In many cases, Wat’s neologisms appear to be simply “made-​up” and “single-​use” only, even though they use some Polish morphemes (coinages such as “barwigie,” “barwohi,” “księżocyle,” “świećawry,” “drzewoban,” “barwioki” and “barwoczy”).81 The text is made even more unique by devices that pretend to be neological since they introduce special sound elements and orthography. Doubling certain vowels exoticizes common Polish words (“poowracają” [powracają –​ (they) come back], “wybieera” [wybiera –​(he/​she) choses], “koloruuw” [kolorów –​ (of) colours]); another mode of foreignization consists in inserting additional sounds and achieving metathesis: switching syllables in words frequently used in everyday speech (“wrabacają” –​“wracabają” [wracają –​(they) come back]). In turn, the change of the typically Polish ending “ch” into “h” (“w arwah,” “na narah,” “w złotawah,” “w pysznawah”) causes the work to be possibly read as more sonorous82 and thus extraordinary, oriental and closer to Semitic languages. The multitude of cultural references indicated here is related to the specific character of Wat’s neologising and his defamiliarizing of common words. Thus, we are dealing here with clearly intertextual instrumentation that works on the level of both sound and meaning.83 Instrumentation and the use of neologisms are closely connected, but it turns out that there is an equally strong connection between linguistic innovation and configuration of meanings.84 However, this rela­ tion is typically disregarded in literary studies. Helena Zaworska concludes for example that namopaniki 81 In namopaniki we do not deal with an easily identifiable “imitative stylization of foreign language” (term developed by Stefania Skwarczyńska in Wstęp do nauki o literaturze, Vol. 2, part 4: Tworzywo językowe dzieła literackiego, Warszawa 1954, 166). In Słopiewnie (especially the poem “O mowie rosyjskiej”) or “Ballada starofrancuska” J. Tuwim structured the text in a way that evokes clear linguistic connotations (see Skwarczyńska, Wstęp do nauki o literaturze, 166–​168). Wat makes it difficult for readers to disentangle the mystery of namopaniki. 82 Probably most of Wat’s contemporary readers would read “h” as voiced but in today’s Polish the difference between “ch” and “h” is limited only to orthography. 83 See Włodzimierz Bolecki, “O jednym wierszu Mirona Białoszewskiego,” in Polowanie na postmodernistów, 385. 84 Venclova, Aleksander Wat. Obrazoburca, trans. J. Goślicki, Kraków 1997, 59, calls the analysed poem by Wat a “lovely exercise in pure nonsense.” This context is important here but does not constitute the most important research clue, while the phrase “lovely exercise” is probably not the best description of a work that opens so many contexts for interpretation. Relations between namopaniki and pure nonsense are also signalled by Płuciennik (“Awangardowy ‘święty bełkot’,” 26–​8; “Namopanik”). This question is addressed in greater detail in the fourth section of Chapter Three. For Author use only “Secret speech” 167 are all about playing with neologisms; combining, switching and swapping syllables; and using rhythmical, melodic repetition of words that are not subjected to any syntactic of semantic rigour. Words are the lyrical subject in these pieces, words “as such,” along with their development, independent variants and forms, as well as techniques of manipulating them, regardless of meaning.85 Indeed, Wat does play splendidly in this work, juggling motivated and unmotivated morphological parts of words that belong to several “associative thematic branches.”86 Still, Zaworska in not right when she argues that namopaniki are not ordered semantically and syntactically. Neologisms create a specific “nebulous source” [mgławicowa zaródź]87 of presented reality. Readers should be able to point out, without too much effort, the semantic soil on which the textual constructions grow, even though precise elucidation of individual “words” can be challenging. Moreover, understanding of the text is clearly conditioned by what Zaworska disregards or fails to note –​namely that neologisms are woven into structures that are syntactically correct. It is of course indisputable that the piece is opaque and complicated (e.g. due to appositions that distort logic, e.g. “barwotęcze obręcze,” or the almost tautological, echo-​like repetition of verbs, e.g. “wrabacają wracabają poowracają racają”), but it seems impossible to undermine the i­nflection-​and syntax-​based order of sentences. This is confirmed for instance by one of the more mysterious passages in “Namopańik Barwistanu,” in which coherence hinges probably entirely on grammar (one may recognize some Polish morphemes [gwiazd –​ star, świeć –​shine, drzew –​tree, nieb –​sky]), which nevertheless do not form understandable words): “gwiazdowory wewrykali świećawry i gwiaźdź śmierćostry babiał na liśćoczu drzewobanu ńebiatuszek.”88 Just like in Khlebnikov’s poems, or in Polish experimental works by Tuwim (Słopiewnie), neological innovation is kept in check by the order imposed by inflection and syntax.89 Serving an important role in composition, syntax is nevertheless not aesthetically transparent. Its baroque meandering (appositions, echo-​like repetition of verbs, etc.) clearly makes the poetic narration appear as more archaic.90 85 Zaworska, “Nurt ‘Nowej Sztuki’,” 370; emphasis added. 86 A term by Jarosław Płuciennik, Retoryka wzniosłości w dziele literackim, Kraków 2000, 197. 87 Ingarden, Szkice z filozofii literatury, 92. 88 In namopaniki, “foreign-​sounding or even exotic words have been set in grammat­ ically correct sentences. Thus, paradoxically, although these works contain non-​ Polish words, their sentences are thoroughly Polish” (Płuciennik, “Namopanik,” 252). 89 See Płuciennik, “Awangardowy ‘święty bełkot’,” 31, 36–​40. 90 Archaization also occurs (as in Khlebnikov) at the level of lexis. Apart from archaisms and pseudo-​archaisms (“byh;” “krale;” “kral;” “każdyći;” “kraluje”) there are neologisms created on the basis of formatives that are no longer productive (e.g. “śmiercież,” analogically to “odzież” or “młodzież”). Jarosiński (Ant. 281–​282) and Płuciennik (“Awangardowy ‘święty bełkot’,” 30) regard these forms as archaic or proto-​Slavic, but not all of these words are borrowed from the latter. For example, For Author use only 168 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism The extraordinary alliterative structures are thus not only an asemantic display of poetic acrobatics. The finely orchestrated text never ceases to be a form of communication. A narrative-​incantational work (note the “apostrophic orgy”91 in the middle part, emphasized or rather created by multiple use of the anaphoric exclamation “o”) makes the impression of secret speech, sublime92 and near-​sacred, at the same time almost parodistic due to expressions like “babuw czary” [a misspelt, ungrammatical phrase meaning ‘witchcraft of countrywomen’], or “bary ras” [bars /​shoulders of races]. In spite of appearances, the last characteristic –​namely, the use of highly comical phrases –​brings Wat’s text closer to Khlebnikov’s. Despite serious cultural and religious references, the sonically distinct and mysterious story lends itself to humorous interpretation, making it clear to the readers that the encounter with a difficult text can be also tongue-​in-​cheek. It is also useful to trace similarities between certain passages from namopaniki and “Razin” –​a palindrome poem by Khlebnikov93 in which regular words appear right next to neologisms and archaisms:94 Gor rog: Rab bar! Bar rab! Letel. … Zarezhut, tuzhe raz! Kholop –​spolokh, … Zaraz, zaraz, Rozhn’ zor,’ Gon nog, Rev ver, Luk skhul, 91 92 93 94 “kral” is of Czech or Ruthenian origin, while “każdyći” is a pseudo-​archaism. See Teresa Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna w oczach językoznawcy,” Przegląd Humanistyczny 5 (1979), 15. Term coined by Płuciennik, “Awangardowy ‘święty bełkot’,” 32. According to Płuciennik, “Namopanik,” 252, the sublime is present in namopaniki, “among other things due to the enthusiasm that is clearly discernible in the final parts of the work.” For remarks on the palindromic structure of Khlebnikov’s text see Lönnqvist, “Sztuka jako zabawa,” 106; Vladimir Markov, The Longer Poems of Velemir Khlebnikov, Berkeley 1962, 156–​60; Julian Tuwim, “O pewnej kobyle i rakach,” in Pegaz dęba, Kraków 1950, 98. Palindromes also often appear in Russian folklore (Markov, The Longer Poems of Velemir Khlebnikov, 157). See Markov, The Longer Poems of Velemir Khlebnikov, 159. For Author use only “Secret speech” 169 Ura zharu, Kulaka luk, Top i pot, Topora ropot Lat ryech chertal. Kolom o moloko, Operiv sviryepo. Khama makh Ili Makhal plakham. Ili sokol okolo kos!95 The palindromic lines of Khlebnikov’s poem are quite similar to the anagrammatic juxtapositions of words in namopaniki discussed so far, e.g. “róż znuż,” “banie nieba,” “barwy w arwah,” or “na baranah w ranah jak na narah.” In turn, “sokol” [falcon] brings associations with Wat’s mysterious “kosujka” [part blackbird (kos), part ‘jay’ (sójka)]. In the Russian’s text, consistently palindromic configurations necessarily impoverish the syntax; still, “Razin” is not reducible to simple, asemantic play with words. Khlebnikov’s poem offers a series of nebulous poetic images presenting scenes from the life of a Cossack rebel.96 The creative impulse differs here from Wat’s ludic and parodistic angle, but in both cases the plane of meaning remains vital. Finally, let us consider the third experimental piece by Wat, in which, as Venclova argues, “linguistic condensation … matches certain passages from Joyce’s Finnegans Wake.”97 Here is a passage from “Namopanik charuna” [Namopanik of charun]98 from Nieśmiertelny tom futuryz [Immortal volume of futurizas]: 1. Ptachorenki rozchorongwił roz i grajoncy na pstrych charmonikach w pachnurach chromawy charun chrapał w chmurach i wbarwistach. A chmurawie munrawy ogroi i grujce rozgrai na grajkatych guranach. Wranach gorun garbi ogury gromach i gromadach pagur. Na pagurach chrabonszczy lew o chrabonczyna o chrabonczyki rozchrabonczyn i lew chrabonszczoncy on jach chrabonszcz. 95 Khlebnikov, Sobranie sochineniy 1, Vol. 1: Poemy, 203–​4. There are no Polish translations of “Razin” because it verges on being incomprehensible due to its playful treatment of Russian phonemes and morphemes. 96 Markov, The Longer Poems of Velemir Khlebnikov, 158. 97 Venclova, Aleksander Wat, 70. For an interesting analysis and interpretation of this text see Aleksander Wat, 70–​2. For more on affinities between experiments by Wat and Joyce see Płuciennik, “Namopanik,” 253. 98 In the original printing (Anatol Stern, Aleksander Wat, Nieśmiertelny tom futuryz, Warszawa 1921 [pages unnumbered]) the title is “Namopanik choruna” but in further parts of the text the second word appears as “charun.” For Author use only 170 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism A charmoniki –​w poranionych charmonjach sfer –​chdyiście jach ja poDrzewiach chroplistych postali! O! charmoniki charmonki rozchramonki charmoniuny charmoniętr o pocharmonik charmoniacze! Charmoniaczki i płononce chury! o charmoniże –​o niże charmonji! I w podartych draperjach wieczoru cheruBy duchże i chrobe w chiton-​kach chromatuw płakon. … 2. … Gwiazy jamiołłów goronce granaty źrą i wiagzdy w chabrach stronch skrzydałrenki dromader skradocha garbani srebroje –​on że kokodryl w złotawach, i chorongwicze i chorongwioncze pochorongw o chorongi rozchorongwy chorongewie choronginy chorongawy chorongwii chorongwiecze rozchonwigcze rochongwicze chorongwiuny o rozchonrogw chorongwij i pochorongw chorongwiassy! A w chmurach charuny duże. I charun zrzał grabarza. A oNże na czarnoskrzydłach panosi namopanik. 3. O cHramy cHramy chramy. –​W machrach wprostościach złocisteich o chramy na pagurach grajonceich! O nieboch niebaszne niebientaich w liściatych chorałach chorych archaniołłów chromy jednookchi staruch rubinowo spłachał chorunami pacierz. charmonii chromatuw i żywiołów GABIE (Wat, Pz 151–​152; emphasis preserved) Just like in “Namopańik Barwistanu,” Wat assembles strings of neologisms based on several roots and held together by syntax. Special aspects of sound are clearly connected with unusual, unpredictable word formation, or rather unrestricted variation on word formation. The text contains words featuring productive yet rare Polish suffixes (“chromawy,” “grajkate,” “liściate,” “chrabonczyna,” “charmoniacze,” “chorongewie,”99 “pachnury”100). Still, the number of neologisms that have no systemic motivation is far greater. Meanings rely primarily on existing Polish roots and affixes that usually “pretend” to be Slavic morphemes, e.g. “chorongwicze,” “chorongwiny,” “chmurawie,” “gurany” (though there are neologisms that cannot be associated with anything Slavic, e.g. “chorongwiassy”). It is also possible to discern distorted Polish words (a phenomenon verging on neologization), e.g. “wiagzdy” (an anagram of “gwiazdy” [stars]) and “kokodryl” (an anagram of “krokodyl” [crocodile]); “munrawy” and “gwiazy” that create parechesis with ordinary Polish words “murawa” [turf] and “gwiazdy” [stars]). Similar instances of “pretend neologising” are indicated above in the analysis of “Namopańik Barwistanu.” 99 A neological construction morphologically close to words such as “bezkrólewie” [interregnum]. 100 This neologism can be considered as analogous to words such as “szlachciury” [poor rough country gentlemen]. For Author use only “Secret speech” 171 The homogeneity of sound, achieved almost solely through neological transformations reworking the same or phonically similar roots (usually containing, by the way, the highly distinct and expressive sound “r”),101 facilitates transmitting many nebulous meanings due to the relatively large number of root morphemes. Thus, the text sketches a “posthumous pastoral.”102 Once again, the “weakest link” in the work is semantics. Establishing meaning seems even more difficult than in the case of other namopaniki discussed above, although the neologising and sound-​shaping devices are similar. The reason for this is the lesser syntactic clarity of “Namopanik charuna.” Syntactic rules are treated selectively as sometimes the place of predicates is occupied by non-​systemic neologisms (“A chmurawie munrawy ogroi i grujce rozgrai na grajkatych guranach”), while initially coherent parts break down into sequences of appositional nouns in the vocative case (“o chorongi rozchorongwy chorongewie choronginy chorongawy chorongwii chorongwiecze rozchongwicze” –​one may only identify the misspelt root “chorongw” [flag] here). Greater hermeticism of this text confirms previous findings: syntax is indeed a crucial component in the structure of namopaniki and its distortion affects the semantics of the entire work. As already indicated, the discussed pieces by Wat, just like other consistently glossolalic texts, resemble haunted speech or an address to higher powers through mystical spell-​prayer.103 The sacred character of incantation104 is nevertheless 101 For remarks about the features of sounds see Reuven Tsur, “Expressiveness and Musicality of Speech Sounds,” in Toward a Theory of Cognitive Poetics, Amsterdam 1992, 184; Ivan Fónagy, “The Metaphor: A Research Instrument,” in Comprehension of Literary Discourse. Results and Problems of Interdisciplinary Approaches, eds. D. Meutsch, R. Vieho, Berlin 1989, 113, 116. 102 Pietrych, “W chaosie i nicości,” 80. It is worth recalling that Charun was an Etruscan daemon of death. The name could be also associated with the mythical Greek figure of Charon, who ferries souls into the underworld, or with Arabian Nights, where one of the main protagonists is Harun al-​Rashid. See also Śniecikowska, “Religious Traces,” 179–​81. 103 See the remarks on glossolalia in Roman Jakobson, Linda Waugh, The Sound Shape of Language, Brighton 1979, 211–​15. This interpretation is additionally supported by the semantics of the text’s last word, which is set in bold capital letters. “Gabie” can be identified as the Lithuanian name of a solar deity – see e.g. Teodor Narbutt, Dzieje starożytne narodu litewskiego, Vol. 1: Mitologia litewska, Wilno 1835, 18; https://​pol​ ona.pl/​item/​209​967/​22/​ (accessed 6 July 2016); see also Przemysław Pawlak, “Wat chwat, Żegoty kat,” http://​www.witka​colo​gia.eu/​uzupe​lnie​nia/​uzupe​lnie​nia.html (accessed 29 June 2016). 104 For more on asemantic “imagined languages” and their role in culture see Joanna Tokarska-​Bakir, Wyzwolenie przez zmysły. Tybetańskie koncepcje soteriologiczne, Wrocław 1997, 165–​75. Tokarska-​Bakir mentions that prolonged repetition is practiced in various cultures (“infinite repetition,” e.g. in “Japa, the ‘diamond whisper’ from India and Tibet, Japanese nembutsu, Muslim dhikr, Judaic chochmat ha-​ceruf and the Jesus Prayer in Orthdox Christianity”), leading to semantic “destruction” and allowing one to enter a mystical state (172–​3). In Wat’s works the same roots For Author use only 172 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism subverted in “Namopanik charuna” due to the incredible amassing of neologisms, which include words of clearly comical character. Consider for example the series based on the root “chorongw” [flag], which concludes with the Latin-​sounding, absurd and ludic “chorongwiassami” (which brings associations not only with words like “wygibasy” [contortions] or “majtasy” [panties], but also with the “centauressy” [centauresses] and “faunessy” [faunesses] of Young Poland)105 as well as the mundane “chrapał” [(he) snored] and finally the comic and ambiguous (in the context of “pagury” [hills]) “ogury” (possible to interpret as “o, góry” [oh, mountains]) or the amusing “chrabonczyki” [misspelt ‘little beetles’] and “kokodryle” [anagrammatic ‘crocodiles’].106 Wat’s text is also relatively close to Khlebnikov’s poetry (neologisms, etymological and pseudo-​etymological figures). Still, analysis reveals a clearly parodistic dimension of the piece.107 The parodistic distance that sometimes surfaces in poems by Khlebnikov is marked differently here and probably more discreet.108 105 106 107 108 keep being repeated, but the various word formation techniques do not facilitate “inert” reception (see also Alfred Liede, Dichtung als Spiel. Studien zur Unsinnspoesie an den Grenzen der Sprache, Bd. 1, Berlin 1963). It is worth noting that Russian formalists and Futurists referred to studies of languages spoken by members of religious sects and schizophrenics. Cf. section 4B in Chapter One (especially 142–​4). As Venclova concludes, “along with phonetic and syntactic devices, the poem’s lexis introduces disharmony. Hence, ‘Namopanik charuna’ is not merely a celebration of language’s magical properties, but also a declaration of its imperfect character. Words in ‘w poronione charmonjach sfer’ [misguided harmonies of spheres] reveal the message of the poem in the most succinct manner” (Venclova, Aleksander Wat, 71–​2). Jarosiński describes “Namopanik charuna” in the following way: “With every step we encounter signs of order, but it soon turns out that they lead only to absurdity. … Moreover, the entire text is parodistic. While Khlebnikov’s “Incantation by laughter” [translated by J. Śpiewak] perfectly utilizes the neological potential of Polish, passages from ‘namopanik’ seem more like a humorous deformation of words, disturbance of grammatical relations and play with meanings. The ordinary word “murawa” [turf] was turned into an exotic “munrawa.” Biblical “ogrójce” [Gethsemane] was split into “ogroi” and “grujce” (the former having a Greek plural ending, while the latter can be associated with the town Grójec near Warsaw, indicating complete mix-​up), etc. Out of material found in Polish, a whole new linguistic landscape emerged: teeming, fluid, entirely phantasmagorical” (Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” civ; see also Venclova, Aleksander Wat, 71–​2). Consider a passage from “Iskusheniye greshnika” [A sinner’s seduction]: “And the visions came faster and faster, and after the vision and regurging a chunk of immortality someone had swallowed, with the help of a hook and the sound of general laughter, after blizzards of horrible fearfaced idols there was Worldevour whose things were humans swooping over everything and some kind of Univerk moved up and down, something beyond anyone’s conception, whose occasional feather as For Author use only “Secret speech” 173 Namopaniki, especially ones that bear the genre name in their title, clearly display the reign of word formation and its product: homophonic instrumentation. The unusually strong valorization of the work’s sound has been deployed in many different ways.109 The discussed texts fit the category of repeated words (or rather roots), as defined by Balcerzan, but it remains crucial how this technique is used. “Żywoty” appears to best approximate Khlebnikov’s poems, the key similarity consisting in the writing technique, specifically neologisms created on the basis of rules characteristic for the native tongue or resembling common words in a given language. Archaic sublimity is nevertheless undermined by the semantically odd (though perfectly fitting sound-​wise) “Futurist” lexeme “tramwaje” [trams] and the potentially ludic “tragowąszcze” (trawogąszcze?) [defamiliarized ‘grass thicket’]. In “Namopańik Barwistanu” and “Namopanik charuna” word formation is clearly eclectic110 (usually largely arbitrary and single-​use), while irony and parody become increasingly clear. As it turns out, words that perfectly fit structures of glossolalic incantation can be actually flippant and mocking, e.g. the aforementioned “babuw czary” or “kokodryle,” while the intense amassing of related neologisms explodes the grammatical and semantic dimension of these pieces. There seems to be no intention to seriously study the word-​formation potential of Slavic languages or to seek zaum by reaching core meanings through phonosemantics. Wat’s texts are too close to ironic parody, which “corrupts” loftiness by introducing grotesque and ludic elements that prevent one from reading these works entirely seriously. Let us also note that the nebulous character of meanings is similar in all namopaniki. As demonstrated above, in “Żywoty” word formation comes closest to the rules of Polish, but it remains very problematic to precisely delimit the semantic fields of the neologisms’ roots (or even to indicate these roots, as in the case of “kosujka” or “niki”). Meanings of the neologisms’ roots, which share etymology it fell marked the horror of his very existence” (Khlebnikov, Collected Works, Vol. 2, 11). 109 Namopaniki can be also regarded as a special case of “linguistic energy” (naturally not limited to word formation and phonostylistics). We should recall one interpretive passage that takes “Żywoty” into account: “Namopaniki reveal … how various forms of being and language are broken down and connected, how they move, circle, either drawing us into their changeable rhythm or leaving us preoccupied, with eyes glued on the rush of life. Readers of these poems co-​exist with being, become energy surrounded by energy” (Magdalena Graf, Paweł Graf, “ ‘A usta znów rozluźniają się do słów okaleczałych’ –​namopaniki Aleksandra Wata (recepcja, język, interpretacja),” Poznańskie Studia Polonistyczne. Seria Językoznawcza 21/​41 (2014), 46; http://​pres​sto.amu.edu.pl/​index.php/​pspsj/​arti​cle/​view/​195/​137 (accessed 29 June 2016)). 110 It is worth recalling at this stage that in Khlebnikov even non-​potential neologisms would often bring to mind words of Russian or Old Russian, especially poetic neologisms and not experiments such as the language of gods, stars or birds (where grammatical categories are basically suspended). For Author use only 174 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism in “Namopańik Barwistanu” and “Namopanik charuna,” are pretty clear, but their reception is complicated by “eclectic” suffixes and –​as in the case of the latter –​ partial undermining of Polish syntax. However, allow me to clearly emphasize that although the semantics of namopaniki may be unclear and nebulous, it nevertheless does exist.111 Loosening of logical and semantic relations between words112 makes it pos­ sible to view efforts in instrumentation and word formation to be constitutive of these pieces. These devices fundamentally determine the text’s character.113 As Pszczołowska notes: What clearly emerges here is the compositional function of sound repetition, especially in cases when a certain sound or groups of sounds sharing certain features appear with high frequency (much higher than the average for a given language) … The importance of sound repetition for the organization of the entire work into a coherent whole clearly occurs to the greatest degree –​achieving greatest autonomy –​in situations when syntactic structures are loosened. … Extreme situations, like ones when instrumentation becomes the only organizing principle in the text, do occur in some Futurist poems.114 The above analyses demonstrate that in the case of namopaniki the problem of interdependencies between different dimensions of the text is much more complex and multi-​ dimensional. Performing a compositional function, instrumentation is inextricably linked with word formation and syntactic ordering, which allow readers to orient themselves in the semantic nebula by introducing some degree 111 N.Å. Nilsson’s remarks on “Zaklyatiye smekhom” [Incantation by laughter] seem interesting in this context: “the poem certainly has a semantic structure … although it deliberately prevents us from following it word-​by-​word” (Nils Å. Nilsson, “How to Translate Avant-​Garde Poetry. Some Attempts with Xlebnikov’s ‘Incantation by Laughter’,” in Velimir Chlebnikov. A Stockholm Symposium, ed. N. Å. Nilsson, Stockholm 1985, 138). 112 These texts owe their partial coherence largely to syntactic and inflectional order, but the semantic ambiguity of individual neologisms is independent from syntax and inflection. Speaking of loose logical ties, I do not mean problems with the logical structure of the enunciation (which is usually clear) but with difficult semantic relations between words. 113 For more on the poetic function of irregular sound instrumentation see Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 58–​60. 114 Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 58–​60. The Kraków Avant-​garde offers an interesting context for these considerations. Instrumentation constituted an important conceptual component of avant-​garde lyricism (even in works by Peiper, who was vocal about his aversion to such measures). However, it did not play a crucial function in composition. The problem of the “sonic” character of poems by the Kraków Avant-​garde is revisited in the first section of the Conclusion. For Author use only “Secret speech” 175 of coherence. As is clear in the case of “Namopanik charuna,” distortion of these orderings makes the reception of such works more difficult.115 Analysis of namopaniki also raises the theoretical question whether poetic neologisms –​as words that do not function in ordinary language –​can be a part of an etymological or pseudo-​etymological figure. This issue has received practically no attention in literary studies116 since strongly neologising works like Wat’s namopaniki or Khlebnikov’s neological poems are relatively rare. It is assumed here that the terms “etymological/​pseudo-​etymological figure” can be applied in relation to artistic neologisms. In the context of considering the nature and historical position of Futurist secret speech, we should draw attention to the much greater semantic obliqueness of figures comprised by non-​systemic neologisms –​rare in Khlebnikov and common in Wat –​in comparison to analogous constructions including potential neologisms. The former kind is exemplified in etymological figures such as “barwiole” –​“barwiotacze” –​“barwioki” –​“barwigie;” “chorungwiuny” –​“chorongwiassy,” or pseudo-​ etymological ones (phonically close yet based on different roots), e.g. “rozchramonki charmoniuny.” The latter, which are semantically clearer, include for example the following etymological figures: “złotogórzy” –​“podgórz” –​“rozgór” [root “gór” –​‘mountain’]; “płonąc” –​ “płomyki” –​“płomień” –​“rozpłonecznionych” –​“bezpłonięć” –​“dopłonąć” –​“płonia” [stem “płom/​płon” –​‘fire’], and the following pseudo-​etymological ones: “barwy” –​ “barbaruw” –​“herubuw,” or “na tramwajach tram na wyjach trawa.” The semantically clearest figures are based on etymologies and pseudo-​etymologies that involve the use of common words. It also needs to be specified that the basis for defining a certain construction as a (pseudo)etymological figure is the possibility to indicate the root(s) of these words. It is impossible to assign the category of etymological figures to groups of neologisms in which deep semantic and morphological vagueness (in namopaniki, for example, this includes the impossibility to establish the root despite word endings complying with rules of inflection) precludes specifying any relations between quasi-​words, except for the ones based on sound. Consider the following examples: “trawągoszcz gąszcze,” “namopaniki po nikach,” “chorongwiecze rozchongwicze,” or the neighbouring, obscurely formed “goradale” (perhaps a compound of “góry” [mountains] and “dal” [distance], suggesting a relation with the Russian “gorod,” or anagrammatically concealed “grądale”117) and “gorawale” (perhaps a blend of the Slavic root “gor/​gór” and the French “vallée” or English 115 Highly characteristic sound (with numerous repetitions) accompanied by undis­ turbed or even foregrounded syntax is also a feature of poems by Maria Tsvetaeva and Boris Pasternak. 116 This question in not discussed in Pszczołowska’s study of irregular instrumentation, the basic Polish source in this area (see Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa). 117 “Grądal” is an old term denoting “an uncouth man, a boor, a churl” (Słownik języka polskiego, Vol. 2, ed. W. Doroszewski, Warszawa 1965, 1294). For Author use only 176 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism “valley”). These kinds of neologisms cannot be considered pseudo-​etymological figures because categories of word formation and actual family relations among words are suspended, making it impossible to decide about the etymology or even pseudo-​etymology of “quasi-​words.” What appears to be underscored are the sound-​based correspondences since paronomasia inclines readers to trace non-​ existent etymological determinants (word formation would thus be a dimension actualized –​as it were –​in absentia).118 The most impaired dimension is the impen­ etrable semantics. The appearance of such formations in namopaniki causes Wat’s texts to be regarded as closer to inarticulate secret speech than to Khlebnikov’s neological poetry, which features few non-​systemic neologisms or structures that entirely resist morphological analysis. To conclude the discussion of Wat’s namopaniki, two additional issues need to be raised. The first one regards the abstractness of the discussed poetic efforts, while the second is related to the above-​mentioned attempts to order the tangle of diverse, asemantic texts that do not lend themselves easily to analysis (to a large degree these are avant-​garde works). Jarosław Płuciennik argues: As Wat admits, the kind of abstraction that we encounter in mirohłady and namopaniki is dissociated from meaning and the possibility to visualize metaphors or poetic images. The effect of this is that –​paradoxically –​the sensual matter of language comes to dominate over semantics. … Abstraction in literature could be realized as a departure from meaning, as a “gibberish” stylization, i.e. as namopaniki.119 118 Let us note one more category, not necessarily connected with coinage of neologisms. As Pszczołowska indicates, pairs like “biesiada” [feast] and “bies siada” [fiend sits] (example from a text by S. Jagodyński), or “pierścień” [ring] and “pierś cień” [breast shadow] (J. Brzękowski) can be interpreted as the splitting of words into “quasi-​ elements of word formation” (Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 35–​6). This device is called a “pretend neological figure” (a kind of pseudo-​etymology). Let us consider the passage “na tramwajach tram na wyjach trawa,” where the poet juxtaposes phrases “na tramwajach” and “na wyjach trawa,” feigning etymological closeness and creating an illusion that the former was split into morphemes that make up the latter. A similar approach can be taken with regard to structures like “namopaniki po nikach” or “na baranah w ranah na narah.” Pretend neological figures can appear in all kinds of pseudo-etymologies, both in classical (the above “pierścień” and “biesiada”) and on ones based on neologisms (“na tramwajach tram na wyjach trawa”). Such relations can even produce “quasi-​words” that do not constitute any etymological or pseudo-​etymological figure (“namopaniki po nikach;” “na baranah w ranah na narah;” “panosi namopanik”). The category of etymologization is suspended here due to obscure roots, but poetic devices that introduce sound structuring invariably suggest that individual “elements” are specially connected in terms of word formation. 119 Płuciennik, “Namopanik,” 253; emphasis added. For Author use only “Secret speech” 177 Wat’s experimenting can be thus regarded as the literary counterpart of non-​ representational art. However, in visual arts abstraction is a broad and diverse category that includes both an array of shapes and colours in Kandinsky, suprematist geometrical abstraction in Malevich and the trance-​like, expressive dripping in Pollock. Still, abstraction-​leaning works that verge on figurative art are equally diverse. We should closely examine in this context the phenomenon of Wat’s namopaniki. It is often remarked that abstract poetry is the kind of art that has broken words free from the shackles of meaning.120 As demonstrated above, in the case of Wat the flight from semantics is only partial because it replaces established meanings, which are well rooted in language practise, with ambiguous and blurred ones that might only be suggested. To continue the comparison with visual arts, one could argue that we deal here with the literary border between representational and abstract art because the shapes are still recognizable in the most general sense. The departure from mimesis has little to do here with the practise of symbolism or impressionism, either in visual arts or in poetry. The point is not to achieve a soft, atmospheric blurring of the composition. Thus, Ingarden’s term nebulousness –​ invoked above to describe namopaniki –​does not seem adequate. This concept can be associated with turn-​of-​the-​century art, which was actually undermined by Wat, also regarding sound structure.121 Young Poland poetry can be characterized in terms of semantic nebulousness.122 The words “blurred” and nebulous are very close, making it advisable to introduce a different term to account for the sonic and semantic world of namopaniki. Wat’s writing can be compared with the current that entirely negated the atmospheric and impressionistic “blurriness:” cubism123 or rather –​as is fitting for 120 See Wim Tigges, An Anatomy of Literary Nonsense, Amsterdam 1988, 122. Pomorska argues, for example, that in Russian Futurism “attacks” on the work’s subject and departure from simple presentation of meanings can be deemed analogous to cubist experiments in visual arts (Pomorska, Russian Formalist Theory, 80). 121 Despite the antithetical character of symbolist poetry and namopaniki, they share the recognition of language’s materiality (although awareness of this was not too deep in Polish symbolism; cf. the first section of Chapter One, 80–​2). Both namopaniki and symbolist works are also characterized by strong atmosphericity, although it is achieved through different means. A certain role is played in this by the fact that Wat’s texts are markedly consonantal (primarily “Namopanik charuna”), which distinguishes Futurist works from more vocalic poems from the turn of the century. As already mentioned, Polish symbolism based, among other things, on consonantal alliteration, but the degree of consonantal saturation was never as large as in the case of Wat’s experiments. 122 See the first section of the first part of the book. 123 For more on cubism in literature, identified primarily with frequent juxtapositions, loosening of relations between sentences and lines, and simultaneous presentation of various aspects of reality in different perspectives see Adam Ważyk, “Miejsce For Author use only 178 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism a work in literary studies –​sound cubism.124 In answer to the famous question posed by Aragon –​“What can be cubist in words?!”125 –​one can reply: their own struc­ ture in longer arrangements of phrases. Cubism invites one to regard an object from many perspectives at the same time:126 “it shatters [the presented reality] into simultaneous and multifariously described fragments.”127 Wat’s namopaniki do not fragment the presented reality, but rather the material from which it is assembled.128 Cubist certitude –​the basic elements that are no longer divisible (e.g. the letters or numbers incorporated into cubist paintings) –​would correspond here to recognizable roots.129 Wat attaches to them various, often entirely non-​ systemic, unintelligibly deformed affixes, examining how far the message can be warped, distorted, or defamiliarized (e.g. “wracabają” and “poowracają” –​coinages utilising the root “wrac/​wróc” [come back]) without making it impossible to explicate the work semantically. Jakobson argues that cubist painting displays a “manifestly metonymical orientation, in which the object is transformed into a sequence of synecdoches.”130 What we deal with here is a specific “synecdoche of a word:” 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 kubizmu,” in Od Rimbauda do Eluarda, Warszawa 1964, 272–​4; Maria Delaperrière, “Czy istnieje poezja kubistyczna?,” Ruch Literacki 4 (1984), 238. I am grateful to Professor Włodzimierz Bolecki for inspiration to research this issue. Qtd. after Grzegorz Gazda, Słownik europejskich kierunków i grup literackich XX wieku, Warszawa 2000, 236. Naturally, this is an unavoidable simplification when discussing visual arts only as a context. Moreover, there is nothing like a single, coherent theory of cubism. Artists themselves (with theories developed by Gleizes, Metzinger and, retrospectively, Braque) and their contemporary critics (including friendly ones like Apollinaire) would formulate various, often contradicting arguments. Gazda, Słownik europejskich kierunków, 237. As Pomorska argues (her remarks about Russian Futurism can be also applied to study Wat’s namopaniki), “by foregrounding word as the only material and subject of poetry, Futurists would directly refer to the theory and practice of cubism, which broke away from representing reality in favour of colour and line. Futurists regarded the material of language as the counterpart of components that constitute cubist paintings” (Pomorska, “Literatura a teoria literatury,” 271; see also the remarks about the cubist character of poetry in Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 5). Porębski describes one early cubist composition (Georges Braque’s Guitar and Fruit Dish, 1909) in the following terms: “ ‘Fragmentation’ manifests in unexpectedly broken layers and mutual adjustment of corresponding edges, losing and finding connections, approaching the object from all perspectives at the same time: from above, below and sides. Therefore, visual consequences of outlines have little bearing, with slippages revealing a multitude of approaches that contradict the illusion of a unitary optical effect” (Mieczysław Porębski, Kubizm. Wprowadzenie do sztuki XX wieku, Warszawa 1986, 51). If we replaced the word “object” with “root” we could obtain an account that describes Wat’s creative method. Roman Jakobson, “Two Aspects of Language and Two Types of Aphasic Disturbances,” in Selected Writings, Vol. 2: Word and Language, The Hague 1971, 256. For Author use only “Secret speech” 179 readers are only provided with “word parts,” comprised by root and whatever is possible to make of the affix (though in the case of “-​iohi” or “-​iole” we learn very little). The work consists of a whole series of such synechdochic, “cut-​up” words that have been divided into repeatable roots –​recognizable in terms of sound and meaning, and having a stable sound outline –​and unclear, phonically surprising affixes. Thus, sound is no longer a transparent vehicle of meaning and becomes almost material, tangible and physical.131 In this practise of sound-​based analytical cubism Wat arrives at the point at which it becomes possible to indicate the most general outline of presented reality (as in Picasso and Braque, one can identify outlines of figures and objects such as mandolin or the moustache of the portrayed Portuguese). The composition breaks away from smooth, painterly transitions known from impressionistic works, instead embracing sharp, unsettling and broken cubistic planes. It seems that Khlebnikov’s neological texts cannot be described as fully cubist in terms of sound132 although the Russian poet was associated with Cubo-​Futurist painters and writers. His neologisms are predominantly systemic, while his compositions are noticeably more fluent in terms of sound (and meaning) as well as gentle and coherent. Wat’s experimenting is closer to abstraction, more aggressive as well as phonically and semantically unsettling. Analysis of namopaniki, which foreground sound and blur semantic outlines, invites consideration of another theoretical question. When describing Wat’s experimental works, Płuciennik employs the term “mirohłady-​ namopaniki,”133 while Pustkowski examines the features of “mirohłady-​słopiewnie.”134 We should consider the possibility to differentiate between the two. Analysis of the sound structure is the perfect pretext to do that. Discussion can begin by explicating the question of mirohłady –​a crucial phenomenon in interwar poetry.135 According to Julian Tuwim, in such works 131 See Pomorska, Russian Formalist Theory, 108. 132 Balanced remarks on the possible cubism of Khlebnikov’s experiments were made by Vroon (Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 5–​6). 133 Płuciennik, “Namopanik,” 253. 134 Cf. fn. 138. See also Aleksandra Okopień-​Sławińska, “Mirohłady,” in Słownik terminów literackich, ed. J. Sławiński, Warszawa 2000, 312–​3. 135 See Grzegorz Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, Wrocław 1974, 89. The term “mirohłady” or “atuli (atulli) mirohłady” was proposed by Tuwim, who derived it from an absurd anononymous passage (composed by “some lackey or coachman at a manor house”): “Atuli mirohłady, grobowe ucichy, /​Mój młodniu, moje mulle i moje pupichy” (Julian Tuwim, “Atuli mirohłady,” in Pegaz dęba, 295; originally printed in Wiadomości Literackie 31 (1934), 3; Tuwim also indicates an earlier “printed trace” of the text but imprecisely quotes it; cf. “Dociekanie filozoficzne,” Kolce. Kartki Humorystyczno-​Satyryczne 2 (1871), 78; online: http://​ebuw.uw.edu.pl/​dli​bra/​ publ​icat​ion/​183​100?tab=​1, accessed 29 June 2016). Another genesis and version of the text is provided by S. I. Witkiewicz in “Prawda o ‘mirochładach’ przez ‘ch’,” in Bez kompromisu. Pisma krytyczne i publicystyczne, ed. J. Degler, Warszawa 1976, 180 For Author use only 180 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism words are liberated from any ties with the actual or even fictitious reality. They exist in and for themselves; we are allowed to ascribe to them, as if writing on the score, our own feelings and images, or simply enjoy their euphony.136 In an article devoted to mirohłady, Tuwim mentions his own cycle of poems Słopiewnie, the namopaniki written by Wat and the “glossolalic poetry of Russian Futurists from the years 1913–​1918.”137 As Pustkowski rightly points out, Tuwim does not equate the above.138 Instead, he argues that unlike mirohłady, which are “deprived of the ‘burden’ of meaning,” Słopiewnie are “poems full of content in the traditional sense, i.e. they have a semantic skeleton or core.”139 Thus, the ques­ tion arises whether Wat’s works should be regarded primarily in the context of the theory regarding the return to the true nature of words, or seen as largely desemantized mirohłady. Let us take this occasion to consider the question of a certain type of asemantic works (or, less precisely, approximating mirohłady) as this context shall recur throughout this study. Foregrounding of sound is not an indispensable feature of these works yet instrumentation is often fundamental for these poems, usually bringing coherence to these semantically vague texts (though they are frequently focused on specific semantic fields). It is necessary to recall another important position on such practises. Just like Tuwim, Roman Ingarden separates Słopiewnie, which “have meaning and a semantic structure that can be at least partially determined or inferred”140 and can be deemed as “an original yet integral variant of ‘regular’ literary works,”141 from mirohłady, which are decidedly more asemantic. In Słopiewnie, Ingarden writes, 136 137 138 139 140 141 (poem heard by Witkacy’s father from a “resident madman at some manor house in Lithuania, during the uprising of 1863”). The discussion on mirohłady opened by Tuwim was joined not only by Witkacy and Ingarden, but also Jerzy Braun in articles “Demaskuję ‘mirohłady’ ” and “Ach, te ‘Mirohłady’,” published in Zet in the years 1934–​1935 (after Degler’s fn. 1 in Bez kompromisu, 567). Tuwim, “Atuli mirohłady,” 296–​7. Tuwim mentions various determinants behind such pieces, listing the language of religious ecstasy (mentioned here in the context of namopaniki), the speech of mentally ill people and folk songs (“Atuli mirohłady,” 289–​92); see also Jakobson, Waugh, The Sound Shape of Language. Tuwim, “Atuli mirohłady,” 299. Henryk Pustkowski, “Mirohłady,” Zagadnienia Rodzajów Literackich 2 (1974), 113; Henryk Pustkowski, “Próba gatunkowego określenia ‘mirohładów’ –​‘słopiewni’,” in Rzecz Poetycka. Środowisko, eds. A. Biskupski, J. Jarmołowski, M. Kucner, Łódź 1975, 224. Tuwim, “Atuli mirohłady,” 299. See also Henryk Pustkowski, “Słopiewnie,” Zagadnienia Rodzajów Literackich 2 (1974), 114–​5; Pustkowski, “Mirohłady.” Ingarden, Szkice z filozofii literatury, 88. Ingarden, Szkice z filozofii literatury, 88. For Author use only “Secret speech” 181 neologisms … are developed in such a way that they either clearly transform regular Polish words (e.g. “słodzik” [sweetener]), and thus suggest their meaning to readers, or at least resemble Polish words in terms of structure, i.e. through suffixes, etc.142 Mirohłady, on the other hand, written “in the spirit of the Polish language,” merely “appear” to be words.143 In an attempt to classify them in his multi-​layer theory of literary works, Ingarden ponders whether a text that prioritizes the sound layer (the first, basic layer, which constitutes in “regular” works only “one of many voices in a harmonious whole”)144 can be really considered to be a literary piece. Still, the philosopher recognizes that apart from special valorization of sounds these poems also contain a nebulous source of certain situations and objects, making mirohłady capable of communicating certain emotional states.145 This, however, does not concern any narrative but only the mood set by the poem.146 This argu­ mentation appears entirely coherent and the differentiation between texts that convey at least general outlines of reconstructible meanings and more nebulous ones merely implying unspecified emotional states is an interesting research angle. Still, it may prove problematic to precisely delineate the boundary between mirohłady and “fully-​fledged” literature that includes Słopiewnie. Problems with classification arise already in the case of Wat’s namopaniki. Jadwiga Sawicka offers the following insight: Słopiewnie are works that supposedly originate in a reconstructed language system; they rekindle the Slavic myth. Apart from Polish words they contain newly formed ones whose reference is broadened yet generally understandable. The words are tied together syntactically, while their instrumentation, polysemy, paronymy and contamination favour semantic expansion. … Mirohłady, on the other hand, are sound-​based and their syntactic order –​which appears correct –​is not imbued with meaning. … Sound configurations are foregrounded in them and not any presentation of reality. … Mirohłady appear to be closer to zaum in the variant developed by Kruchyonykh, characterized by senseless combinations of sounds freed from any meaning. 142 Ingarden, Szkice z filozofii literatury, 87. 143 Ingarden, Szkice z filozofii literatury, 89. However, if “real” words appear, neologisms gain certain shades of meaning in their context, with existing words lending new ones a semantic character. 144 Ingarden, Szkice z filozofii literatury, 91. 145 Ingarden, Szkice z filozofii literatury, 91–​2. 146 Ingarden concludes that “ ‘mirohłady’ are neither musical compositions nor literary works in the strict sense. … However, their value lies in the fact that they occupy the very border of literature; aesthetically gratifying, they nevertheless remain only pleasant trifles” (Ingarden, Szkice z filozofii literatury, 93; emphasis preserved). See also Stanisław Czernik, Z podglebia, Warszawa 1966, 104–​5, 108–​9; Stanisław Czernik, “Fantazjotwórstwo poetyckie,” Okolica Poetów 4–​5 (1935), 3–​4. For Author use only 182 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism If Słopiewnie were supposed to expand the capacity of words and approximate a universal Slavic language, mirohłady combine sound patterns from entirely dissimilar domains. They depart from language norms and are connected with madness, gibberish and absurdity. … Mirohłady orient us toward linguistic madness, while Słopiewnie convey the myth of homecoming.147 Are namopaniki closer to “Słowisień” [Wordcherry], “Zielone słowa” [Green words],148 or the anonymous, untranslatable “mulle, młodnie, ucichy i pupichy?”149 Despite their word formation being “Slavic in spirit” and considerable syntactic coherence, Wat’s parodic and ironic texts seem to be more closely related to the linguistic madness and eclectic panopticum of mirohłady rather than to the myth of returning to “primal speech” (even if taken lightly and with a pinch of salt, as in the case of Tuwim).150 The unusual instrumentation clearly sets the mood, while neologisms indicate specific semantic fields; still, meanings cannot be precisely reconstructed. Key figures and events in Wat’s masterpieces of sound remain impenetrable. These arguments incline one to classify namopaniki as mirohłady. Nevertheless, another problem surfaces in relation to this. Sawicka argues that mirohłady are closely related to Kruchyonykh’s zaum. This constitutes an additional context that expands the spectrum of asemantic works, complicating this line of argumentation. The most famous examples of the Russian writer’s experiments include: first, the poem written in a universal language and comprising only vowels, and second, the famous piece “[dyr bul shchyl],” which –​ the author claims –​contains more Russian elements than Pushkin’s entire oeuvre:151 i a o e e e e e a i e152 147 Jadwiga Sawicka, “Filozofia słowa” Juliana Tuwima, Wrocław 1975, 63. See also Zbigniew Jarosiński, Postacie poezji, Warszawa 1985, 53–​4. 148 “Słowisień” and “Zielone słowa” are poems from the cycle Słopiewnie. 149 Cf. fn. 135. 150 For more on the relation between Tuwim and Khlebnikov see Seweryn Pollak, “O twórczości przekładowej Tuwima,” in Wyprawy za trzy morza, Warszawa 1962, 243; Ryszard Matuszewski, “Poeta rzeczy ostatecznych i rzeczy pierwszych,” in Julian Tuwim, Wiersze, Vol. 1, Warszawa 1986, 22–​4 (the scholar clearly simplifies the poet’s ideas); Sawicka, “Filozofia słowa,” 20–​8. 151 Aleksiej Kruczonych, Wielemir Chlebnikow, “Słowo kak takowyje,” in Rosyjskie kierunki literackie. Przełom 19 i 20 wieku, eds. Z. Barański, J. Litwinow, Warszawa 1982, 185. 152 Aleksei Kruchonykh, “Deklaraciya slova kak takovogo,” in Apokalipsis w russkoy literature Moscow 1923, 44. See also Vahan D. Barooshian, Russian Cubo-​Futurism 1910–​1930. A Study in Avant-​Gardism, The Hague 1974, 85. For Author use only “Secret speech” 183 dyr bul shchyl ubesh shchur skum wy so bu r l ez153 Undoubtedly, the setting is much clearer in namopaniki than in texts like Kruchyonykh’s “[dyr bul shchyl].” The Russian poet would argue that “zaum stimulates and liberates creative fantasy, without harming it in any particular way. Meanings cause words to shorten, twist and petrify, while zaum is wild, passionate and short-​tempered,”154 allowing writers to sonically describe or render the world in a fresh way that is not bound by the rules of tradition or language.155 The idea of creativity and its numerous poetic realizations by the “Futurist Jesuit of the word”156 differ in many respects from the practise of Wat.157 Surprisingly, however, they share a certain semantic context [!]‌. The first of Kruchyonykh’s two poems quoted above is not only a transrational play with sounds, but also –​much like Wat’s namopaniki –​a parody of the sacred.158 The phonemes reconfigured by the Russian poet reiterate the pattern of vowels found in the first words of the Lord’s Prayer.159 Still, although Wat parodically actualizes the context of the sacred by engaging readers in a consistent game with semantics and sound (however disorderly and “wild”), in the case of Kruchyonykh the layer of meaning functions, as it were, in absentia. It is also worth to remember about the above-​mentioned Khlebnikov’s “language of gods,” which –​in the light of literary studies and linguistics –​often boils down to 153 Kruczonych, Chlebnikow, “Słowo kak takowyje,” 185. Serge Fauchereau describes this poem as follows: “It is the first example of zaum, a trans-​mental language, or supra-​ rational, which shall be one of the key determinants of Russian Futurism: invented words and isolated syllables unconnected with the Russian language” (Serge Fauchereau, “Du futurisme russe,” Europe 552 (1975), 37. Fauchereau’s last claim can raise doubts, also in relation to the Khlebnikov’s quoted assertion about the text’s Russian and national character). 154 Kruchonykh, “Deklaracija zaumnogo slova,” 46. 155 See Barooshian, Russian Cubo-​Futurism, 85. 156 This description of Kruchyonykh is by Mayakovsky (qtd. after Barański, “Futuryzm w Rosji,” 92). 157 One needs to remember that Kruchyonykh also wrote texts that are relatively clear in term of semantics and word formation, e.g. the 1922 poem “Golodnyak,” which contains the following passage (based on the root “golod” –​“hunger”): “Golodnya… Golodnyak… / Glod… Gludun… Golodiytsa… /​Glyd… ryk / MYR DYKH /​GLOD i MOR. /​Noch… Nuch… tych… tuch… /​Khod drog… grob… glukh” (qtd. after Barooshian, Russian Cubo-​Futurism, 87. See also Edward Balcerzan, “Jak bolał ‘Policzek powszechnemu gustowi’,” in Oprócz głosu, 26). 158 See Lönnqvist, Sztuka jako zabawa, 61. 159 Lönnqvist, Sztuka jako zabawa, 61. See also Lönnqvist, Xlebnikov and Carnival, 21 (she bases on the findings of V. Markov). For Author use only 184 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism “rigorous yet nonsensical sonic and metric structures,”160 making it an instance of mirohłady. This description also fits the numerous, par excellence instrumentation-​ based texts by Zurich-​based Dadaists, e.g. the mirohłady-​like experiment by Hugo Ball from 14 June 1916, which follows the sacred path. Dressed in an elaborate costume (blue pipe covering the legs, cardboard collar lined with gold and crimson, white-​blue top hat), Ball was carried onto the stage of Cabaret Voltaire, where he recited the first abstract, phonetic poem:161 gadji beri bimba glandridilaula lonni cadori gadjama gramma berida bimbala glandri galassassa laulitalomini gadji beri bin blassa glassala laula lonni cadorsus sassala bim gadjama tu m i zimzalla binban gligla wowolimai bin beri ban o katalominai rhinozerossola hopsamen laulitalomini hoooo gadjama rhinozerossola hopsamen … zimzim urullala zimzim urullala zimzim zanzibar zimzalla zam elifantolim brussala bulomen brussala bulomen tromtata velo da bang bang a alo purzamai a olo purzamai lengado tor … gaga di bumbalo bumbalo gadjamen gaga di bling blong gaga blung162 In an attempt to soothe the appalled audience, Ball’s voice “was taking on the age-​old cadence of priestly lamentation, the liturgical chanting that wails through all the Catholic churches of East and West.”163 Foregrounding sound, repeating 160 Note by Pomorski in Chlebnikow, Rybak nad morzem śmierci, 428. 161 Lehnert considers phonetic poems to be the literary counterpart of paintings by Kandinsky, which Dadaists held in high esteem (Herbert Lehnert, “Nihilismus, Anarchismus, DADA und das Ende der bürglichen Kunst,” in Geschichte der deutschen Literatur vom Jugendstil bis zum Expressionismus, Stuttgart 1996, 1037). It is for this reason that this work holds an important place in the context of further considerations regarding the sound cubism of namopaniki (e.g. “[gadji beri bimba…]” as sonic equivalents of expressionist abstraction and namopaniki built around several roots as texts approximating sound cubism). 162 Qtd. after Helmut Heissenbüttel, “Versuch über die Lautsonate von Kurt Schwitters,” Akademie der Wissenschaften und der Literatur, Abhandlungen der Klasse der Literatur, Jg. 1983, No. 6, Mainz 1983, 8. For a broader discussion of Dadaist texts that foreground sound see the Chapter Three. 163 Ball’s statement qtd. after Hans Richter, Art and anti-​art, trans. D. Britt, London 1997, 43. Andrzej Lam argues that “[Ball] wrote with excitement about the invention of a new kind of poem without words, one that arranges sounds in accordance with their qualities. This invention justified the necessity to abandon the language that was ultimately devastated by journalism and to return to the word’s internal alchemy in order to secure the last stronghold for poetry” (Andrzej Lam, Polska For Author use only “Secret speech” 185 certain sequences and parodying mystical incantation164 (in a cabaret-​like set­ ting165 of glossolalic recitation as well as textual incorporation of “elephants” and absurd “hopping rhinoceroses” through neologisms like “elifantolim” or “rhinoze-​ rossola hopsamen”)166 make this Dada performance similar to namopaniki. Still, there are clear differences between Ball’s work, the aforementioned poem by Kruchyonykh167 as well as pieces by Wat or Tuwim. The fundamental difference 164 165 166 167 awangarda poetycka. Programy lat 1917–​1923, Vol. 1: Instynkt i ład, Kraków 1969, 150). The aforementioned avant-​garde “word alchemy” also inclines to consider the question of one-​time meanings that may be clear only to the text’s author. On the other hand, paradoxically, avant-​garde artists attempted to establish full and frequent contacts with readers, who were usually unenthusiastic about obscure works. For an interesting comparison of Dadaist phonetic poems and religious-​magical incantations see Leonard Forster, Poetry of Significant Nonsense, Cambridge 1962, 31–​42. Zurich Dadaists were neither the only nor the first avant-​garde artists of the twen­ tieth century to experiment in this way. Miczka describes an “almost pre-​Dadaist” [his term] performance of Italian Futurists in 1914: “a grotesque funeral of a conservative critic, who died of distress following the humiliations suffered at the hands of the Futurists. The poet Radiante and the painter Depèro (with head covered by large, black tubes with holes for eyes and nose) carried on their arms a weird head of the critic, cheeks adorned with free verse by Cangiullo, with tethers holding paper hands resting on a moth-​eaten book. Dressed as a sacristan, the painter Ball held a long paintbrush as if it were a torch from which a bell would sound once in a while. With a nasal voice he intoned psalms: “nieeet, nieeeeet, nieeet, nieeet, nieeet, nieet.” At the same time, Cangiullo would recite words-​in-​freedom to the rhythm of a sombre funeral march. When the critic’s head was finally placed on a catafalque deeper in the room, Marinetti, who was the master of ceremony, began his funerary speech” (Tadeusz Miczka, Czas przyszły niedokonany. O włoskiej sztuce futurystycznej, Katowice 1988, 65). This account of the Futurist performance comes from the journal Lacerba, June 1914. See also Józef Heistein, Wprowadzenie do literaturoznawstwa porównawczego. Literatura awangardowa w świetle badań porównawczych, Wrocław 1990, 99–​100; Günter Berghaus, “Futurism, Dada and Surrealism: Some Cross-​Fertilisations Among the Historical Avant-​gardes,” in International Futurism in Arts and Literature, ed. G. Berghaus, Berlin 2000, 284. These “quasi-​words” clearly connote ludic meanings. The neologism “rhinozeros-​ sola” can be associated with almost identical European lexemes for “rhinoceros” in languages important for Dadaism: German and French (“Rhinozeros” and “Rhinozerosse;” “rhinoceros,” respectively) and for “elephant” (“elifantolim” is close to the French “éléphant” and the German “Elefant”). The German word “Hops” means “jump,” while “hopsen” –​“to jump, to hop.” In the ludic “hopsamen,” which is repeated several times, one can also discern the sacred word “amen.” See the remaks in the second section of Chapter Two. Following the sacred trope, the first quoted text by Kruchyonykh can be also com­ pared with the Dadaist “Chorus sanctus” [!]‌by Richard Huelsenbeck: For Author use only 186 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism consists in the asyntactic and nearly completely asemantic character as well as in the obliqueness of neologisms (the term “word formation” would be a misuse, just like in the case of Khlebnikov’s speech of gods or birds) in both the Dadaist experiment and Kruchyonykh’s poems.168 In this respect, Wat’s namopaniki are closer to Khlebnikov’s neological poems or Tuwim’s Słopiewnie rather than to works like “[Gadji beri bimba…]” or “[dyr bul schtschyl…].” Nevertheless, we should recall the non-​systemic character of these linguistic devices, which differentiates the Futurist experiment from most neological works by Khlebnikov and Tuwim. The above examples demonstrate that literature leaning towards asemanticism and foregrounding speech sounds instead of meaning is itself a tremendously differentiated group. They also show that experiments on the border between semantics and glossolalic-​echolalic gibberish were undertaken by many avant-​garde artists in Europe. A potential typology of such efforts, possibly rooted in comparative analysis of Wat’s namopanik-​like secret speech and selected works by European avant-​garde writers should account for at least three levels.169 To classify works in this way we may employ terms often used here, which have been derived from titles of literary works or critical remarks. It seems that these labels could function as genological terms170 since the existence of genological objects does not entail any doubts.171 Thus, we should distinguish the following: 168 169 170 171 “a a o aei iii oii uuo uue uie aai ha dzk drrr bn obn br buß bum ha haha hihihi lilili leiomen” (qtd. after Dada. 113 Gedichte, ed. K. Riha, Berlin 2003, 66). See also Nilsson, “How to Translate,” 135–​6. He intriguingly compares the Dadaists’ experiments and Khlebnikov’s neologising (abstracting from the language of gods, birds, stars, etc.). The proposed typology does not cover pure nonsense, where syntax and inflection work flawlessly, while enunciations are largely composed of words from general language, with distortions regarding mainly logical connections between meanings. See the fourth section in Chapter Three. This possibility is signalled in the context of słopiewnie and mirohłady by Pustkowski (“Mirohłady;” “Słopiewnie,” 115), although he understands these terms differently. Despite noting numerous differences between these realizations, he considers słopiewnie to be a “sub-​category” of mirohłady, going so far as to call Tuwim’s cycle a “model instance” of mirohłady (Henryk Pustkowski, “Próba gatunkowego określenia ‘mirohładów’ –​‘słopiewni’,” in Z polskich studiów slawistycznych, series 4: Nauka o literaturze, Warszawa 1972, 246. This claim is also made in the extended and amended version of the article in the volume Rzecz Poetycka, 229). In Pustkowski’s view, “mirohłady” is the most general name of an entire class of texts that obscure meaning and foreground sound. This large, diverse category is understood here as a type of asemantic literature with several “subcategories” characterized by clear distinguishing features. See Stefania Skwarczyńska, “Niedostrzeżony problem podstawowy genologii,” in Problemy teorii literatury, ed. H. Markiewicz, Wrocław 1967, 149–​150. For Author use only “Secret speech” 187 1. słopiewnie –​works retaining language rules that govern word formation, inflection, or syntax and approximating the semantic coherence of Tuwim’s Słopiewnie;172 2. namopaniki –​works of less clear meaning, departing further from the language’s default grammatical structures and employing non-​systemic word formation (or eclectic, i.e. drawing from various languages); closer to asemantic or incomprehensibly supra-​semantic gibberish; 3. mirohłady –​works characterized by far-​reaching asemanticization, violating rules of word formation, syntax and inflection, relatively often displaying ludic qualities.173 These would include some texts by Kruchyonykh, Khlebnikov’s language of gods and numerous Dadaist pieces, e.g. by Schwitters, Ball and Arp.174 The category of mirohłady would also include “mentowanie,” i.e. asemantic children’s counting-​ out rhymes (incidentally, the model for Khlebnikov’s language of gods), but not fully onomatopoeic texts, even those composed entirely of proper onomatopoeias because such works have clear semantic motivation.175 Wat’s namopaniki would naturally be classified in the second category of asemantic texts. Due to the specific kind of word formation employed in it, the poem “Żywoty” would be situated relatively close to most neological works by 172 Naturally, it is difficult to speak of structural and semantic simplicity in Tuwim’s cycle (see Romuald Cudak, “ ‘Świetopełna trześć dziwosłów.’ O języku poetyckim ‘Słopiewni’ Juliana Tuwima,” in Skamander. Studia z zagadnień poetyki i socjologii form poetyckich, ed. I. Opacki, Katowice 1978, 156–​171). These works should be nevertheless located at the beginning of the proposed typology. Compositions such as “Słowisień,” “Zielone słowa” or “Wanda” contain many morphologically and semantically clear words. These “language particulars” cause the poem to be regarded as semantically distinct despite their being far from everyday communication and, what is perhaps even more important, from most literary texts. The relative clarity of Słopiewnie is confirmed in analyses by, for example, Cudak and Sawicka (“Filozofia słowa,” 56–​9). The same category (słopiewnie) would also include neological passages from Tuwim’s “Wiersze o Małgorzatce” (see Julian Tuwim, Wiersze wybrane, ed. M. Głowiński, Wrocław 1986, 191–​4) and many works by Russian Futurists (not just the neologising texts by Khlebnikov). 173 The text by “some lackey or coachman,” which gave the name to this category of poems paradoxically seems closer to namopaniki (due to relatively clear roots, preservation of inflection and correct connections between words). In critical comments (Ingarden, Szkice z filozofii literatury, 87–​94; Sawicka, “Filozofia słowa,” 61–​3) the term “mirohłady” functions as the synonym of texts that are almost entirely asemantic and asystemic. Let us then abide by this term. 174 See Chapter Three (especially sections two, three and four). 175 One example of this is a passage from Kamensky, where the movements of a juggler are rendered through onomatopoeia: “Zgara –​amba /​Zgara –​amba … /​Shar –​shor –​ shur –​shir /​Tshin –​drakh –​tam –​dzz” (qtd. after Heistein, Wprowadzenie, 109). For Author use only 188 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism Khlebnikov and the aforementioned experimental works by Tuwim (the first category: słopiewnie); nevertheless, as already indicated, the use of unidentifiable roots to form neologisms, as well as difficulties with indicating and ordering textual events preclude assigning this poem to the category characterized by relatively clear semantics. Furthermore, the specific character of neologisms and its semantic consequences in “Namopańik Barwistanu” and “Namopanik charuna” does not allow us to classify them in the first category. Syntactical distortions encountered in the latter are not serious enough to regard it as a freewheeling mirohład. The indicated differences between Wat’s namopaniki and Khlebnikov’s neological experiments mean that the discussed works by both authors should be assigned to two different categories of asemantic texts. Poems like “Zaklyatiye smekhom,” “Chernyi Lyubir” or “[Pomiral moren’…]” should be classified as słopiewnie, while Wat’s texts belong in the second category.176 In the case of discussed works by Polish Futurist it is impossible to speak of epigone-​like imitation of Khlebnikov’s word formation. Although it cannot be ruled out that Wat’s texts were inspired to some degree (perhaps indirectly) by Khlebnikov, they remain indubitably original, polyphonic and multi-​contextual. The relatively small number of Polish Futurist texts that display asemantic tendencies –​balancing on the verge of gibberish, strongly foregrounding sound, neologising and/​or leaning towards echolalia or glossolalia –​does not incline to undertake close examination of this category. However, for the purposes of the present study and, more broadly, of general research on twentieth-​century avant-​ garde, the indicated problem seems vital. 3. W  ord formation and poetic encrustation Namopaniki constitute an exceptional, homophonic experiment in word formation, encompassing the entire text. Paradoxically, analysis of the specific homogeneity of sound reveals a multiplicity of literary and broadly cultural references. Other Futurist poems do not feature such far-​reaching experimentation with words and sounds, although word formation remains a significant aspect in them alongside the context of Khlebnikov, who is important in a comparative perspective. Works discussed in this section do not approximate the obscure glossolalia of secret speech, but rather represent variously formed and functionally diversified neological poetic encrustation. Naturally, the technique of weaving neologisms into a text is nothing new in the history of Polish literature; however, Futurism would employ word-​formation-​based encrustation on a very large scale (both in terms of the number of works featuring it and the number of neologisms in a single poem). 176 Chapter Three also analyses Polish works that seem closest to mirohłady and asemantic gibberish (third category). For Author use only Word formation and poetic encrustation 189 One example of Futurist explorations in word formation is the poem “Wiosenno” [In the spirit of spring] by Jasieński: TARAS koTARA S TARA raZ biAłe pAnny poezjAnny poezOwią poezAwią poezYjne poezOSny MAKI na haMAKI na sOSny rOŚnym pełnowOSnym rAnem177 poezAwią poezOwią pierwsze szesnastoLEtnie Letnie naIWne dzIWne wiersze kłOSy na włOSy bOSo na rOSy z brUZDy na brUZDy jAZDy bez UZDy słOńce uLEwa zaLEwa na Lewo na LEwo na LEwo na LEwo prOSTo OSTy na mOSTy krOST wodorOSTy tuPOTY koPYT z łoPOTem oPADł oPADł i łoPOT i łoPOT i POT. (Jas., Upms 39–​40)178 At first glance, the poem appears to be written in hermetic and experimental language whose one formal component –​“orthographic elephantiasis”179 –​cer­ tainly dominates over meaning and other artistic aspects. Still, closer analysis reveals many specifically actualized avant-​garde contexts. One issue that seems particularly interesting is the configuration of key elements: word formation, instrumentation and semantics. The chaos of paronomastic lexemes (“themes in freedom” as Gazda termed them)180 is to a large extent ostensible. In fact, “Wiosenno” seems quite clear in 177 In the original printing in Formiści 4 [1921], 10, and in Poezje zebrane, ed. B. Lentas, Gdańsk 2008, 197, this line has the following shape: “rOSnym pełnowiOSnym rAnem.” 178 Philological translation: “terrace curtain old once /​white maidens /​poetr-​Annas /​ compose poetry /​poetic draemas /​poppies on hammocks on pines /​dewy spring morning /​compose poetry /​first /​16-​year-​old summer /​naïve strange poems /​corn spikes on hair barefoot on dew /​from furrow to furrow rides without bridle /​sun rainstorm floods to the left /​to the left to the left to the left ahead /​thistles to the bridges waterweed blisters /​tramping of hooves the flapping came down /​came down flapping flapping and sweat.” 179 Term developed in Sergiusz Sterna-​ Wachowiak, Miąższ zakazanych owoców. Jankowski –​Jasieński –​Grędziński (szkice o futuryzmie), Bydgoszcz 1985, 102. 180 Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 88. For Author use only 190 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism terms of semantics or even narration, despite the gestures it makes in the second part (from the passage “kłOSy na włOSy”) that bring to mind parole in libertà.181 It is relatively easy to reconstruct the story of sixteen-​year-​old Annas –​the “poesi-​ Annas” (“poezjAnny”), who twitter naively on hammocks hanging between pines, plait their hair with ears of grain (“kłOSy na włOSy” [corn spikes on hair]) and finally gallop on horseback (“jAZDy bez UZDy” [rides without bridle]) through sunny or rainy fields. The poem’s finale can be read as a dynamic end to the horseback ride, full of exclamations. The lines can be rearranged in the following way to introduce clarity in terms of punctuation: “Na lewo, na lewo, na lewo! Prosto –​ osty! Na mosty!! Krost wodorosty (or may be: krosty wodorostów), tupoty kopyt. Z łopotem opadł i łopot, i łopot, i pot” [To the left! Ahead –​to the thistles! To the bridges!! Seaweed of blisters (or may be: seaweed blisters), tramping of hooves. The flapping came down all flappy and the sweat with it]. The first part of the poem (until the line “naIWne dzIWne wiersze” [naïve weird poems]) is made more homogenous in terms of sound by actual and pretend instances of word formation. They clearly organize the aural dimension, derailing our perception of meanings, although to a far lesser extent than Wat’s namopaniki. In the first line we can observe phonetic repetition, which thwarts the reconstruction of meaning and even makes it difficult to divide the line into words.182 Which order should be more relevant –​the alternating use of capital and small letters, or the divisions designated by spaces? As Balcerzan notes, among these word-​fragments we may observe “an elaborate game of instrumentation and meaning”183 since the line can be read as either “Taras, kotara, stara, raz” [terrace, curtain, old, once] or (to follow the suggestion of majuscule and miniscule) “Taras, ko taras, tara, raz” [terrace, co terrace, tare, once]. According to Balcerzan,184 it seems perfectly meaningful to acknowledge the former reading of the line. This interpretation allows one to embrace the idea of “words in freedom” (and the negation of syntax), yielding a telegraphic description of a place where “biAłe pAnny poezjAnny poezOwią” [white maidens poesi-​Annas create or recitepoetry] or one offering a secret glimpse of the place from which the lyrical subject is watching the girls (a terrace or place behind an old drape, with everything happening “once” [raz], i.e. “once upon a time”). At the same time, the juggling of capital and small 181 See the remarks on the Dadaist and Futurist (“words-​in-​freedom”) contexts of the poem: Bożena Lewandowska, “U źródeł grafiki funkcjonalnej w Polsce,” in Ze studiów nad genezą plastyki nowoczesnej w Polsce, ed. J. Starzyński, Wrocław 1966, 205. 182 See Aleksandra Okopień-​ Sławińska, “Wiersz awangardowy dwudziestolecia międzywojennego (podstawy, granice, możliwości),” Pamiętnik Literacki 2 (1965), 441. 183 Edward Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka twórczości dwujęzycznej Brunona Jasieńskiego, Wrocław 1968, 101. 184 Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 101. For Author use only Word formation and poetic encrustation 191 letters invites readers to deconstruct the line and note the echoed word “taras” [terrace]. This brings associations with a children’s game in which an endlessly repeated word suddenly starts to “sound strange” as it becomes “de-​automatized,” revealing meaning-​bearing elements (etymologically motivated or not) in its structure and at the boundary of repeated words. The written text demands that we notice in this line a perverse pseudo-​etymological figure (a fake neologism).185 We may indicate in this poem many textual words constructed on the basis of a single “quasi-​root.”186 This is an intriguing neological mystification. Jasieński ignores the morphology of words and attaches greatest importance to those elements which in no way coincide with the “main, constitutive morpheme of a given word”187 and which do not act as fundamental or even significant elements in the process of developing lexemes. Juxtaposing similar-​sounding, rhyme-​bound words into explicable sequences, the author seems to be trying to “convince” us that “maki” [poppies] and “hamaki” [hammocks]; “bruzda” [furrow], “jazda” [ride] and “uzda” [bridle]; “osty” [thistles], “krosty” [pimples], “mosty” [bridges] and “wodorosty” [seaweeds]; “zalewa” [floods] and “na lewo” [to the left], or “dziwne” [strange] and “naiwne” [naïve]188 are related and close in meaning. The poet is also ingeniously multiplying the quasi-​root “Anna” –​a woman’s name found inside words like “pAnny” [girls] and “poezjAnny” [poetry-​girls]189 Pseudo-etymological figures are further underscored by the visual shape of words (perhaps if the author had not drawn attention to the abundance of paronyms, readers would fail to notice all of the harmonic matches, especially the absurd morphological ones). These devices, however, are not strictly neological as we do not deal with newly formed words. The visually indicated “quasi-​roots” draw readers into a perverse “etymological game,” contradicting any rules of word formation and morphology. A similar approach can be identified in works by Khlebnikov, although not in his neological poems, but in texts that set out to study the semantics of sound in order to foster zaum, e.g. “Pen’ pan” or “Slovo o El.” Khlebnikov highly valued wordplay, seeking out words “hiding” inside other lexemes and creating palindromes.190 Furthermore, he would attribute great significance to these operations (seeking “atoms of meaning”191 hidden inside phonemes). Jasieński, on the other hand, applied a similar method, offering a banal story about carefree girls enjoying a summer day, a story defamiliarized only in phonic and graphic terms. 185 186 187 188 See Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 35–​6. Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 88. Part of the definition of “root” qtd. after Encyklopedia językoznawstwa ogólnego, 482. In this pair of words one can discern “iwy” [sallows], which often appear in atmo­ spheric Young Poland poems. In this case they are graphically distinguished in longer words. 189 See Balcerzan, Styl i poetyka, 102. 190 Lönnqvist, Xlebnikov and Carnival, 55–​6 ff. 191 Term by Adam Pomorski. For Author use only 192 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism Still, the Polish text also includes actual innovative neologisms, e.g. ones generated through the application of parechesis: “poezowią” –​“poezawią.” Similar-​sounding and forming an etymological figure, these neologisms are based on a difference that is clearly displayed in the Polish language, namely one between imperfective, durative verbs and iterative ones derived from them. These forms often sound almost identical, differing –​just like Jasiński’s neologisms –​only by one or several vowels (cf. “chOdzą” –​“chAdzAJą;” “mÓwią” –​“mAwiAJą;” “czytAją” –​“czytUją”). Neologisms from “Wiosenno,” such as “poezowią” [to create or recite poetry], “poezawią” [to create or recite poetry], “poezosny” (perhaps a blend of “poezja” [poetry] and “sny” [dreams]?), “poezyjne” [poetic], “rośny” (probably derived from “rosa” [dew]), were admittedly created with ingenuity and in accordance with the rules of Polish. In Khlebnikov’s works similar operations based on juxtaposition of paronymic, neological forms of verbs are relatively rare, although they can be found in famous woks like “Zaklyatiye smekhom” [Incantation by laughter]. His heritage includes suffix-​driven derivatives and blends akin to ones encountered in “Wiosenno.”192 Finally, it is worth noting that in the Polish text the lines that actually feature neologisms are simultaneously quite close to the poetics of słopiewnie, which suggest meanings that are not fully clear (it is difficult to construct a clear and story-​ rich work solely out of single-​root forms). The homophony of particular passages is affected by word formation and, to an even greater extent, by the above-​mentioned “pretend word formation” (fake neological figures) in the second part. In “Wiosenno,” the valorization of the sound dimension does not entail semantic losses. This ought to be tied to the specificity of pretend word formation. Unlike Wat, Jasieński does not create large groups of neologisms on the basis of a single root. The relatively long text contains only a five-​element set of neologisms, based on the root “poez” [poetr]: “poezjAnny,” “poezOwią,” “poezAwią,” “poezYjne” and “poezOSny” (only “poezOwią” and “poezAwią” are repeated). The poet usually chooses those lexemes (not neologisms!) that are relatively close in terms of sound yet different in terms of etymology and meaning, as a result of which the work’s semantic dimension can be developed without obstacles. It is thanks to the weakening of the Khlebnikov-​like dimension of word formation –​by renouncing formation of neologisms from just a few roots, as is typical of Khlebnikov’s text –​that a clear presentation of senses becomes possible. The chaos of sounds and meanings becomes illusory, while semantic obscurities turn out to be relatively rare. Despite one słopiewnie-​like episode (i.e. the family of neologisms based on the root “poez”), the poem by Jasieński should be treated as asemantic because it turns out to be surprisingly coherent in terms of meaning and grammar. 192 Cf. the first section. For Author use only Word formation and poetic encrustation 193 Thus, the Polish poem displays similarities with two kinds of operations favoured by Khlebnikov.193 Jasieński creates neologisms on the basis of existing roots and word formation principles, but on the other hand juxtaposes unrelated, similar-​sounding lexemes. A holistic analysis of “Wiosenno” demonstrates, however, that actual relations between the Polish Futurist’s poem and the Russian’s work are rather distant and superficial despite clear similarities in terms of creative method. Works by Khlebnikov and the discussed poem by Jasieński are radically different in terms of their aims. While the Polish poet is playing with words and narrative, in similarly-​sized poems that foreground sound Khlebnikov seeks to confirm his linguistic utopia, disregarding any entertainment value and elaborate storytelling. Another experimental work that perhaps does not go as far as namopaniki or “Wiosenno” yet can be situated in a similar interpretative context is Anatol Stern’s “Arka” [Ark]: Niekształtnych cudów zielony paladyn, Jarkoświeżo w górę bijące zwierzę Wierzę w wieże. I nawet on wie żem Jasny –​on, z lampą ślepiącą Aladyn. Ptaki żary w moniście ognipiór Purpurowym zeskrzydlem płomienią mą skroń –​ Pszczelniących słońc chór, słońc woń Deszcz wieszczeń, –​kolisk, srebrozłotych kół. Słońcowisk rój słońcawych ziem wsłończonych rzek rozsłończeń pól słońcAwość wsłończOność Spadnie wkrótce kłoda futurystów polskich –​ dziennik: “Ryknęła” i wspaniała futuryzja “Szkarłatny krzyk,” nap. Aleksander Wat. Kupujcie “Ryknęłę” i “Krzyk!” Spieszcie ci, którzy jeszcze nie macie, po mój gwiaździścieślepy poemat “Nagi człowiek w śródmieściu.” Do nabycia we wszystkich księ-​ garniach i w głównym składzie Warecka 14 m. 18 (nad ogrodnikiem).194 193 In general, Jasieński’s poetics is closer to Severyanin and Kamensky. Here, however, the focus is on possible intratextual similarities with the creative method developed by Khlebnikov. 194 Qtd. after Anatol Stern, Futuryzje, Warszawa 1919, 4; bold emphasis in the original, underlining emphasis added. For Author use only 194 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism [A green paladin of shapeless wonders, Spring-​fresh animal shooting upwards I believe in towers. And even he knows that I am bright –​he, an Aladdin with a blinding lamp. Fiery birds in a whirlwind of glowing feathers Flame my temples with crimson winging –​ Beeing choirs of suns, the fragrance of suns A rain of prophecies, –​large circles, silver-​gold circles. Swarm of suns sunnish lands sunnied rivers outsunned fields sunniness suniteness The log-​hive will soon drop of Polish Futurists daily: “Roared” and the glorious futurette “Scarlet shout,” written by Aleksander Wat. Buy “Ryknęła” and “Krzyk!” Make haste, those who have not bought yet my starry-​blind long poem “Naked man in city centre.” Available in book-​ shops and at the publishing house in Warecka 14 flat No. 18 (over the gardener’s).] The poem is divided into three parts that differ in terms of both style and instrumentation.195 Containing phrases of clear yet heterogeneous sound structure, the opening part describes the power of prophecy. The second (it is assumed here that parallel columns of the text can be read independently) is an intriguing exploration of language’s word-​formation potential. The third –​comprising two passages beginning with the words “Spadnie” and “Spieszcie” –​is simple, colloquial and uncomplicated sound-​wise, representing the poetics of a newspaper ad (also using the abbreviation “nap.” [written by]). Although sound-​driven neologisms can be found only in the first two parts, the present analysis takes into account the entire poem: its heterogeneity is crucial, and a fragmentary account would fail to deliver a coherent interpretation. In the second and third line of the first part of the poem, the sequence [wież/​ wierz] appears as many as five times, although it is not a root shared by all words containing it. As it turns out, there is no etymological or semantic relation between the homographic instances of “wierzę” [I believe] in the words “zwierzę” [animal] 195 The text’s heterogeneity is emphasized and visualized by its graphic composition, which is especially clear in the quoted original printing, where the graphic fragmentation (more extensive than in reprints) interestingly harmonizes with the untypical page format (which is almost square). For Author use only Word formation and poetic encrustation 195 and “wierzę,” the plural form “wieże” [towers], the neologism “jarkoświeżo” [spring-​fresh] and the syllable [wieže] spanning the boundary between two adjacent words –​“wie żem” [knows that I]. Homophony is not based here on the amassing of lexemes that are homogenous in terms of semantics, morphology, or etymology. Stern proposes an opposite strategy, contrarily juxtaposing words that are distant in terms of structure, meaning and origin, bringing out their similar sound. To what degree is it possible to consider such a suspicious creation of pseudo-etymological figures (the heterogeneity of specific components is particularly obvious in the case of the pun-​like compound “wie żem,” which forms an especially far-​fetched neological figure along with words “wierzę” and “wieżami”) as something resembling the poetic realizations of Khlebnikov? Juxtaposing phonically close words seems to link the Polish Futurist with the Russian poet. However, Stern does not seem to seek hidden meanings of Slavic morphemes or strive to discover the semantics of individual phonemes, as confirmed by analysis of the poem’s ending. So far, the poem’s interpretation focused mainly on pseudo-etymologies that are far from actual word formation (except for “jarkoświeżo”). The context of Khlebnikov’s neological poetry is invoked already in the first part. The slightly archaic neologisms from its last four lines, formed on the basis of Polish grammar –​“ognipióra” [fire-​ feathers], “zeskrzydle” [out-​ wing], “pszczelniące” [full of bees, bee-​ing], “koliska” [huge circles] –​do not have a significant impact on the phonic tissue of the poem. They are scattered in the text and are not part of pseudo-etymological figures, the only exception being the etymological pair of the neologism “kolisk” and the word “kół”. The possible affinity with Khlebnikov does not direct us towards his hallmark homophonization of certain passages. The first part of Stern’s poem oscillates between approximating and negating the approach developed by the Russian theorist of zaum. Let us move to the much different second part of the poem. The large etymological figure based on the root “słońc” [sun] (six out of ten textual words used here) includes nouns with affixes that are productive in Polish: “słońcowiska,” “rozsłończenia,” “słońcAwość” and “wsłończOność.” Just like in Khlebnikov, these are not the simplest and most obvious neologisms: the many-​level derivation196 makes them quite unpredictable (“słońce” –​“słońcowy” –​“słońcowość;” “słońce” –​“słończyć” –​“rozsłończyć” –​“rozsłończenia;” “słońce” –​“słończyć” –​ “wsłończyć” –​“wsłończony” –​“wsłończoność”). Readers can identify some of the semantic nuances as the prefixes197 “w-​” (“to gather, amass inside”) and “roz-​” (“to direct outside”) lend specific semantic tones to expressions like “rozsłończenie pól” and “wsłończoność rzek.” The less easily graspable semantic divergences between 196 In Khlebnikov’s work the “weirdness” of neologisms is usually rooted in surprising roots and/​or formatives. 197 It is worth adding that in Khlebnikov’s neological poetry adding prefixes is a rare method of derivation (see Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 74, 85). For Author use only 196 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism some of the neologisms –​e.g. “słońcAwość” and “wsłończOność” (perhaps a parody of abstract nouns popular among Young Poland writers) –​are marked with majuscule, emphasizing the vowels that distinguish the neologisms. Such operations underscore the specific “intensity of the said feature” in the latter and the lesser “amount of słończoność” in the former (analogously to the pairs “żółtawy” [yellowish] –​“żółty” [yellow] or “siarkawy” [sulphurous] –​“siarkowy” [sulphuric]). This short passage, which resembles słopiewnie due to relatively clear morphology and semantics of neologisms, proves to be a true laboratory of word formation, testing the usefulness of the root “słońc” in the creation of nominal parts of speech. Khlebnikov would certainly not be ashamed of this catalogue, even though in his own poetry the passion for exploring language’s neological potential was not obscured by operations characteristic for further parts of “Arka.” In Stern’s poem, the feast of neologisms based on a single root is ironically bracketed by subsequent phrases (in the third part). The blatant promotion of the “glorious book Futuryzje”198 raises objections regarding the gravity of the poem’s claims. Furthermore, we may read the incoherent phrase “gwiaździścieślepy poemat” (after all, the roots “gwiazd” [stars] and “ślep” [blind] have entirely different connotations) as an instance of latent irony. The first two parts of “Arka” display many ways to foreground the phonic aspect of the poem, which are connected with various modes of word formation (sometimes pretend ones). Stern shows a broad spectrum of operations based on neologisms and instrumentation, ranging from pretend etymological figures to semantically elaborate etymological figures based on affixes forming potential neologisms. The most neological passages are simultaneously the most homophonic and distinct in terms of sound. Aural homogeneity of the second part, which approaches the poetics of słopiewnie, is preconditioned by single-​root neologisms. However, homophony also emerges in certain juxtapositions of many-​ rooted forms (e.g. “zwierzę” –​“wierzę” –​“wieże”), which should be tied to the proximity of the sound of their constitutive roots (in “Wiosenno” these were “quasi-​roots”). The situation clearly changes in the third part. Echoing the language of commerce and advertising, it is written in colloquial Polish with no trace of remarkable word formation or instrumentation. The tripartite structure of the poem foregrounds its use of many styles and, especially in the last part, its irony with regard to the poet’s contemporaries. This undoubtedly distinguishes “Arka” from poems by Khlebnikov, which are focused on homogenous (in a given text) creative possibilities of language. It is possible that “Khlebnikov’s poetry constituted an important inspiration for … early works by Stern,”199 but analysis of “Arka” does not reveal any particularly deep connections. Certainly, however, such inspiration 198 This may have been inspired by Russian Futurist almanacs, as is indicated by the garish advertisement, verb-​based title (“Ryknęła” [She roared]) and its noun-​like inflection (according to Adam Pomorski). 199 Commetary by Jarosiński in Ant. 219. For Author use only Word formation and poetic encrustation 197 would not necessarily have to lead to the creation of straightforwardly imitative poems. At this stage let us recall a passage from “Przyśpiew” [Refrain] by Stanisław Młodożeniec, which brings associations with Severyanin and Khlebnikov:200 Dzisiejszością-​m się zachłysnął –​ ja –​ radośnik –​pan na śmiechu szczeropłynnym –​ i uperlam śmiechowodziem ulic zbiegi i zaułków… … i szkarłacę krwi roztryskiem drogi, dróżki i bezdroża… … Hej –​czerwone dookola pasły oczy, rozgorzałe widowiskiem, i kusiły nęceniami na te mosty ku lepszości. (Ant. 190–​1; emphasis added) [I relish the present-​day –​ I –​reveller –​lord on laughter honest-​flowing –​I pearl with laughter-​water junctions and backstreets… … I scarlet with outgushes of blood roads, paths and wilderness… … Hey –​red around fed eyes, burning with the spectacle and teasing with temptations toward bridges leading to betterness.] This poem clearly departs from colloquial Polish, although differently than Wat’s namopaniki or Jasieński’s “Wiosenno.” The text’s language differs from everyday speech at least in three areas: special valorization of sound (alliteration, consonance, assonance, paronomasia), lexis (neologisms, rare words) and syntax. Despite the “silly” semantics,201 Młodożeniec achieves certain pecu­ liarity and momentousness. Let us note the word formation techniques employed here: neologisms (mostly potential ones), e.g. “radośnik,” “szczeropłynny,” “szkarłacę,” “uperlam,” “śmiechowodzie,” “dookola,” “lepszość;” and combinations of words sharing the same root (which can be associated with Khlebnikov –​some of them actually employ the root “śmiech” [laugh] known also from one of the most 200 In the original printing from Formiści, April 1920, the text was titled “Z Moskwy 1917,” which makes a Russian connection impossible to neglect. Qtd. after Tomasz Burek, “Sztandar futuryzmu na chłopskim wąkopie albo o poezji Stanisława Młodożeńca,” in Młodoż., Up 15. 201 Naturally, laughter’s function in culture is not limited to indication of casual, ludic play. See the remarks on the (early) twentieth-​century interest in various aspects of laughter (Bergson, Nietzsche, Berlin’s Neopatetische Cabaret) in Nilsson, “How to Translate,” 140. See also Mikhail Bakhtin, Rabelais and His World, trans. H. Iswolsky, Bloomington 2009. Z. Bieńkowski comments on Khlebnikov’s “Incantation by laughter” in the following way: “What seems striking is not the humour of this laughter but its solemnity” (Zbigniew Bieńkowski, “Interwencja w świat czy obrona przed światem?,” in Poezja i niepoezja, Warszawa 1967, 37). For Author use only 198 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism famous poems by the Russian avant-​gardist): “pan na śmiechu szczeropłynnym,” “śmiechowodzie,” or “drogi, dróżki i bezdroża.” we should draw attention to the skilful use of idiomatic expressions related to laughter in processes of word formation: “szczery” [honest] (in the neologism “szczeropłynnie”) and “perlisty” [pearl; close to “pearl of laughter”] (in the neologism “uperlam”).202 Thanks to this, meanings can be gleaned without much difficulty. Neither word formation nor instrumentation, the latter being only slightly correlated with the former (through infrequent etymological figures), are particularly exposed; also, they do not determine the text as such, or its reception. What turns out to be particularly important in “Przyśpiew” is the syntax, far from transparent due to extensive use of inversion (e.g. “uperlam śmiechowodziem ulic zbiegi i zaułków”), exclamations (“Hej”), interjections and periphrases. When combined with somewhat archaic expressions like “pan na śmiechu” or “dzisiejszością-​m,” this kind of syntax makes the Futurist text appear dated. Despite its avant-​garde context, the poem feels quite traditional because its revolutionary, Futurist use of sound and word formation function here merely as an allusion that does not subvert the literary convention. Communication of meanings is not thwarted by unusual instrumentation and numerous lexical innovations. Neological encrustation shapes the poem’s sound design to a relatively slight degree. “Przyśpiew” makes the impression of a text situated between tradition and innovation, hesitating on the verge of full-​blown experimentation with sound and word formation. Phrases like “dzisiejszością-​m się zachłysnął” appear to be an unusual mismatch between explicit fascination with modernity and conservative form, with archaization also possibly engaging in a delicate game with convention. The dimension that appears crucial in this poem is that of easily deciphered semantics203 –​word formation and instrumentation are only an orna­ mental accompaniment to lyrical confession, an attempt to make the piece more unusual. The above considerations focus on works that employ, at least to some degree, artistic methods identified in Khlebnikov’s poems. Actually, some of these compositions can appear from today’s perspective as a textual dialogue with the concept of poetry developed by the Russian writer. However, not all works from the word formation current in Polish Futurism base on metamorphoses of words comparable with literary operations in Khlebnikov’s poems. Interesting and entirely dissimilar examples of Futurist neologising are found in “Kosmiczny nos” [Cosmic nose] by Stern: Jak wiele palcuw ćało nasze stroi! Jak wiele na sobie nośim! 202 This bears a clear resemblance to the neologising in volumes XX wiek and Futurobnie by Młodożeniec (discussed in the fourth section). Still, the density of innovations in this text does make a difference. 203 Syntactic structures remain distinct and clear enough to augment semantic clarity. For Author use only Word formation and poetic encrustation 199 6 palcuw na prawej ręce mojej na lewej ręce mam palcuw 28 lewa moja noga 122 palcowa prawa hodźi na tyśącznyh palcah bosyh i tylko biedna zdawało by śę głowa kiwa jedynym palcem słabym nosem! zwykły sztandar miłosny nazywajće: nosang trąba śpiewana nosonga lub mńe nosaczek złamana tęcza zgody to właśńe on –​ muj nos! [How many fingers adorn our bodies! How many we wear! 6 fingers on my right hand 28 fingers on my left hand my left leg 122-​fingered my right legs walks on thousands of naked toes and only the head seems left out waggling its only finger the weak nose! please call this ordinary love flag: nosang sung trumpet of nosong or a nosey a broken rainbow of concord it is he my nose!] (Stern, Wz 150; emphasis in bold preserved and additional added by underlining) This work of pure nonsense features many fingers and a lone nose, which is nevertheless specifically appreciated in onomastic terms. The poet forms neologisms based on the root “nos” [nose], which in most cases are understandable on the basis of the used affix. For example, “nosaczek” (printed in smaller font!) denotes, one can presume, the modest owner of the nose (word created analogously to denominal ones like “brzuchacz” [big-​bellied man] or “trębacz” [trumpeter], with the addition of the diminutive suffix “-​ek”). The sung “nosong” may be a contamination of two words: the Polish “nos” and the English “song” (“song of the nose?”). Still, the distinct “nosang” –​typeset in bold –​remains obscure in terms of both word formation and semantics.204 204 Ważyk noted that during one poetry evening Stern “presented himself in meta­ phorical blue soda siphon with a nose named nosang” (Adam Ważyk, Kwestia gustu, Warszawa 1966, 65). For Author use only 200 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism The basic concept of the text consists in the proliferation of various forms of the eponymous nose, onomastic and… ontological. However, Stern’s creative method should not be tied to that of Khlebnikov because the former employs an entirely different mode of coining neologisms (e.g. through contamination with an English word, lacking in word-​formation “Slavophilia”) and sets out for himself a different aim: primarily to play with words and sounds. Word formation is also an important dimension in the poem “Przewrót” [Revolution] by Młodożeniec: Wyległo miasto na zdziwione miasto mąż z niewiastą –​ –​ ramienieją… Szewc się skrawczył –​ krawiec zszewczył –​ –​ ramienieją… A kominiarz się spiekarzył –​ biały piekarz skominiarzył –​ –​ ramienieją… Mądry zgłupiał –​ głupi zmądrzał –​ –​ ramienieją… Zramieniało całe miasto –​ jeden krok –​–​mur!… ……………… rozwalono gruby mur… (Młodoż., Up 149)205 [The city poured out on a surprised city man with woman –​ –​arming together… The shoemaker made himself a tailor –​ the tailor shoemade himself –​ –​arming together… The chimney sweep bakered himself –​ the white baker chimney-​sweeped –​ –​arming together… The wise dumbed –​ The dumb wised –​ –​arming together The entire city armed together –​ one step –​–​wall!… ……………… the thick wall was pulled down…] The poem bases on an uncomplicated technique of word formation. The poet creates a series of neologisms: verbs whose bases comprise names of professions, formed using affixes like the prefix “z-​” (or “s-​”) and the suffix “-​yć,” the latter indicating the part of speech (“skrawczył,” “zszewczył,” “spiekarzył,” “skominiarzył”). The final result is not astonishing as these are potential neologisms similar to words like “zniewieścieć,” “schłopieć” or ones derived from adjectives: “zmądrzeć” or “zgłupieć” (these two actually appear in the poem, legitimizing, as it were, all word 205 In the original printing (Jednodńuwka futurystuw. Mańifesty futuryzmu polskiego, Kraków 1921 [pages unnumbered]) the text’s layout is slightly different, key divergences consisting in phonetic spelling, the spelling of words and phrases “miasto,” “całe miasto” and “mur” with capital letters and lack of the dotted line. The graphic version from Jednodńuwka additionally emphasizes the unusual character of devices employed by Młodożeniec and dovetails with the weird lexical dimension. Quoted here are versions from Futuro-​gamy i futuro-​pejzaże (cf. the principles of quoting Futurist texts in Introduction, 10–​13, 51). For Author use only Word formation and poetic encrustation 201 formation processes in the poem). As clearly signalled by the poem’s language, the eponymous revolution would consist in the exchanging of professions and neological fraternization (“ramienienie miasta;” the ambiguity of the Polish word “miasto” [city as place or its population] is exploited, by the way, in the first line of the poem). The poem by Młodożeniec is precisely organized in terms of sound. An almost geometric web of harmonies is formed by repeated root morphemes denoting names of professions (each root appears twice). Working with the same roots seems close to what Khlebnikov would do. Moreover, neologisms found in his texts also include denominal verbs.206 Still, the simple technique used by Młodożeniec does not stand comparison with the plethora of neologisms encountered in works by Khlebnikov or Wat. Speaking of clear and strong ties with the former would be an overstatement. A similar account can be offered with regard to another poem by Młodożeniec –​ “List” [Letter] –​which employs word formation as a mode of encrusting the text: Laską na piasku list pisany –​ do nikogo –​tak –​–​ smutki ciche –​długorzęse –​ białośpiewy gołębiowe –​ –​ –​ [Letter written on sand with a cane to no one –​yes –​–​ silent sorrows –​long-​lashed white-​songs of doves –​–​–​ Przeszedł młody –​zezujący –​ przeszedł stary –​ociemniały –​ nogą starł –​–​ Stój no, stary –​ lekkoważny –​ wróć no, młody –​ lekkomyślny –​ patrz –​–​–​ A young one walked by –​squinting –​ An old one –​blind –​ wiped out with feet – – Wait, old one –​reckful –​ return, young one –​reckless –​ look –​–​–​ Smutki ciche –​długorzęse –​ białośpiewy gołębiowe –​ list do Boga wysyłany –​–​ —​ —​ —​ —​ Znak –​ –​ (Młodoż., Up 161; emphasis added)207 silent sorrows –​long-​lashed white-​songs of doves –​ a letter sent to God –​–​ —​ —​ —​ —​ Sign –​ –​] Roots shared by some lexemes and neologisms, lexical repetitions and clear alliteration make “List” distinctively organized in terms sound. However, we would be wrong to trace in it signs of innovation or avant-​garde inspirations. Word formation is not strongly tied in this case with instrumentation as there are few harmonious or paronymic neologisms. Coinages in this poem do not resemble 206 Let us assume that Khlebnikov clearly favoured nominal neologisms, although verb coinages are not exceptional in his poetry (see Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 91–​3). 207 Text published in Futuro-​gamy i futuro-​pejzaże (1933); originally printed in Formiści 5 (1921). For Author use only 202 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism suffix-​formed denominal ones typical of Khlebnikov. It would be untenable from the perspective of research integrity to seek here any clear relations with works by the Russian. We should include in the present analysis a passage from “Panienki w lesie” [Girls in the forest] –​a famous text by Jasieński, one rightly deemed to confirm that the Polish poet was inspired by Severyanin:208 Zalistowiał cichosennie w cichopłaczu cicholas, Jak chodziły nim panienki, pierwośnianki, ekstazerki, Kołysały się, schylały, rwały grzyby w bombonierki, Atłasowe, żółte grzyby, te, co rosną tylko raz. … Zalistowiał, zakołował, zaechowiał w cichośnie, Posypały się kropelki na pluszowe pantofelki, Zostawiły żal maleńki, zostawiły żal niewielki… Pójdą dalej cieniem alej. Będzie płacz… a może nie… [Silent-​wood leafed-​up silent-​dreamy in silent-​cry When girls walked there, chiffchaffers, ecstasists Swaying, bending, picking mushrooms for a box of chocolates Satin, yellow mushrooms, ones that grow only once. … Leafing, circling, echoing in silent-​dream Drops spilled on plush court shoes, leaving a tiny sorrow, leaving a little sorrow They will walk on in shaded alleys. There will be crying… or maybe not…] (Ant. 140; emphasis added) Neological passages, clearly marked in terms of sound (in bold) are organized around two groups of neologisms: one beginning with the root “cicho” and the other with the prefix “za-​.” In this way, a special kind of deepened alliteration is formed within the text. The neological character of words such as “cicholas” and “cichopłacz” consists in combining an adverb (or adjective) and a noun, which is relatively rare in Polish word formation.209 Verbs were created in a rather simple and predictable manner –​i.e. by using the same prefix –​and are derived from nouns: “listowie” [leafage], “koło” [circle], “echo” [echo]. (The repetitiveness of the prefix incidentally acquires special significance if we note the “echo” that appears in the last of the neological verbs). The described word formation processes turn 208 There are also close similarities with the efforts of Vassily Kamensky (see for example the poem “Wodobicia” translated by Edward Balcerzan in Antologia nowoczesnej poezji rosyjskiej, 371–​2). 209 This is an example of intra-​word oppositions described by Sławiński. See Janusz Sławiński, Koncepcja języka poetyckiego Awangardy Krakówskiej, ed. W. Bolecki, Kraków 1998, 88; cf. Introduction, 42–​6. For Author use only Word formation and poetic encrustation 203 out to approximate techniques used by Leśmian, whose poems abound in combinations of two independent words, e.g. “wielozgon,” “złotopani,” “śnitrupek,” “pierwosen.” Moreover, he also uses prefix-​ formed neological verbs, e.g. “docałować się,” “poistnieć,” “roztopolić,” “zmogilnić,” “wyotchłanić,” “zabłękitnieć,” “zaprzejrzyścieć.”210 Still, the word formation strategy adopted by Jasieński clearly differs from that of Khlebnikov. As indicated at the beginning of this chapter, the latter would create nouns primarily by using affixes; combining nouns with adjectives is rare in his texts.211 Moreover, the neologisms in “Panienki” are formed using two simple, repeatable procedures (using a particular, repeated prefix or root), whereas Khlebnikov’s principles of word formation are largely unpredictable and hugely diverse, with a multitude of suffixes and “quasi-​affixes”).212 The Polish Futurist’s works are composed differently and with greater simplicity. Instrumentation techniques appear in “Panienki” also in lines that contain instances of word formation (alliterations and internal rhymes are underlined in the text). Still, passages that contain neologisms appear to be more strongly valorized in terms of sound because harmonies are more distinct in them (through deep initial alliteration) and words are connected with specific parallelism based on morphology, sound and grammar. This could be explained by partial etymological and morphological ties linking these neologisms (the root “cicho” [silent] in neological compounds and clear phonic correspondences conditioned by the repetition of the prefix and conjugation endings in forms such as “zalistowiał” and “zaechowiał”). Another important aspect is the de-​automatization of perception by introducing non-​existent words that are difficult to articulate. Just like in other texts discussed above, this poem also combines word formation with instrumentation, at least to some degree. However, let me stress that this is not a rule in works that feature encrustation based in neologisms. Certainly, not every text displays the homophony of neological passages, as confirmed by passages from poems by Jasieński (aside from neological passages in the first part of “Arka”), namely “Śnieg” [Snow] and “Podróżniczka” [Woman traveller]: Białe kwiaty gdzieś na korsie… Może w Nizzy… Kołowieje –​Cichopada –​Białośnieży. Chodzą ludzie miękkostopi po ulicy, Końca nosa im nie widać zza kołnierzy. 210 All examples qtd. after Stanisław K. Papierkowski, Bolesław Leśmian. Studium językowe, Lublin 1964, 148–​150, 156–​164. Leśmian’s influence on the neologising of Jasieński was also identified by Balcerzan in “a lyrical parody” of Jasieński’s early work –​the poem “Jesień z jesiotrem.” Balcerzan created in it the phrase “zacichaczeć cichaczem” (Edward Balcerzan, Morze, pergamin i ty, Poznań 1960, 28). 211 See Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 74–​7. Compounds that are interesting yet untypical of Khlebnikov are found in Khlebnikov’s 1921 poem “Przemyśleń jeździstanu” (Rybak nad morzem śmierci, 276). 212 See Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 37–​196. For Author use only 204 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism … Z okna domu ponurego, jak “Titanic,” Zaechowiał i wysączył się, jak trylik, Płacz zmęczonej prostytutki, której stanik Zafarbował ogniokrwisty hemofilik. [White flowers somewhere on the corso… Perhaps in Nizzy… Circling-​wind –​ Silent-​raining –​ White-​snowing. Soft-​footed people walk on the street, Their noses buried deep in collars. … From a window in a house as grim as Titanic Like a litle trill, came echoing and seeping The cry of a tired prostitute, whose bra Was stained by a hot-​blooded hemophiliac.] (Jas., Upms 17; emphasis added) Panieneczki złotogłówki zmysłowieją w oknoramach, Ostrym wiatrom się oddają z całej siły, pierwszy raz. Może śnią im się w wiatrakach baśniejące złotozamki… Pociąg czhał przez pola wężem z siłą 400 HP… Panieneczki złotogłówki obudziły w sobie samki, Z przymkniętymi powiekami leżą wparte w kąt coupé. [Gold-​headed girls sensualize in window frames, Giving themselves to sharp winds with all their might, for the first time. Perhaps they dream of fairy-​taling golden-​castles in windmills… The train sped like a snake through fields with 400 horsepower… Gold-​headed girls awakened womenhood inside themselves, With eyes half-​closed they recline in the corner of the coupé.] (Jas., Upms 20; emphasis added) In the quoted passages, the wide range of roots used to form neologisms (with the exception of “złotozamki” and “złotogłówki” based on the same root “złot” [gold]) as well as rare, distant lexical repetitions rule out homophony, not leaving much room for any deeper harmonies. Thanks to this, however, the semantics of these texts becomes relatively clear, for example in comparison with namopaniki, which are based on a small number of root morphemes. The type of neologisms (compounds213 like “cichopada,” “białośnieży,” “miękkostopi,” “złotogłówki”) and 213 In Khlebnikov’s poetry compounds are a widely represented category only in the area of adjectival neologisms (see Vroon, Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems, 85 ff) and such constructions are not found in the category of nouns or verbs (especially in the case of potential neologisms). For Author use only Word formation and poetic encrustation 205 lack of sound organization linked with them preclude making any connections between Jasieński’s experiments and Khlebnikov’s work (though this makes the discussed text closer to ones penned by Severyanin). The section discussing the word-​ formation-​ based encrustation of Futurist poetry mentions many diverse poems that manifest a wide range of word formation processes, unlike Wat’s “secret speech,” which is more homogenous in this respect due to prefix-​and suffix-​base derivation and the many neologisms sharing the same root. Sometimes, as in “Arka” by Stern and “Wiosenno” by Jasieński, etymological figures or pretend etymologies are connected with the elaborate instrumentation in these poems. It is nevertheless often the case that neological encrustation does not condition deeper phonic correspondences, which is caused by the fact that neologisms have different roots (and different-​sounding ones), or by their scattering in the text. As is clear, Khlebnikov’s poetry does not seem to constitute a crucial point of reference for encrustation-​oriented procedures employed by Polish poets (in some cases the context of Severyanin seems clearer), who would chart their own, varied paths of derivation (though perhaps less spectacular than Khlebnikov’s) and –​even more importantly –​indicate its hitherto unknown possibilities (ones not even found in works by the Russian poet). The goals of word formation operations clearly distinguish poems by Jasieński, Stern and Młodożeniec from ones by Khlebnikov, for whom such exercises constituted an element in the quest for the perfect language whose components he identified in the Slavic potential for creating neologisms. Unlike him, Polish poets would not set such superior goals before themselves. They would employ word formation in various ways to encrust their poems, making this an intriguing yet inessential and ornamental aspect of their work.214 Three key characteristics should be kept in mind with regard to the use of this technique by the discussed Polish poets: – A broad spectrum of word formation operations, ranging from practises approximating Khlebnikov’s neological method of (pseudo)etymology (including simplified or even imitative procedures, as in the case of “Przyśpiew” by Młodożeniec) to ones entirely contradicting the “Slavophilic” neologising of the Russian (“Kosmiczny nos” by Stern). However, the wide range of methods does not implicate great variety within a single mechanism (e.g. suffix-​based derivation or compounding).215 – Relatively simple and predictable methods of neologising within individual poems (especially in “Przewrót” by Młodożeniec, “Panienki w lesie” by Jasieński, 214 Not all neologising poems by Khlebnikov are entirely experimental in terms of word formation. The number of neologisms in a given work, however, would not affect their function. 215 Comparison is drawn here between one poet and the heritage of an entire lit­ erary group. Conclusions from individual comparisons (Stern –​Khlebnikov; Wat –​ Khlebnikov, etc.) would naturally be different. For Author use only 206 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism except for “Arka” by Stern)216 causing the word formation aspect to attract less attention than in the case of namopaniki or poems by Khlebnikov. – A large scale of poetic moods (connected with the diversity of goals in the poems), including near-​ exalted seriousness (“List” by Młodożeniec), social engagement (“Przewrót” by Młodożeniec), light-​ hearted pure nonsense (“Kosmiczny nos” by Stern), “juggling” of conventions (“Arka” by Stern) and ludic narrativity (“Wiosenno” by Jasieński). 4. F  uturist guessing games Finally, let us describe another extreme of word formation among Polish Futurists. The two poems by Młodożeniec, “Futurobnia” [Futuremaking] and “XX wiek” [The twentieth century], experiment with word formation entirely unlike Wat’s namopaniki. Consider some passages from the former: uchodzone umyślenia upapierzam poemacę i miesięczę kaszkietując księgodajcom by zdruczyli … niewieściątko z długowłosia źrenicuje umojone strofowania wsłodyczeniu liści do mnie “poecicu poemacąc oblubieńczysz dziewicenie cudzodajesz utwojenia, licuneczek odmojony w fotopiśni dziękczysyłam do uramień ciebiekolnych.” uręczyłem serdeczniejąc. ścianizuję dzień w dzień liści. w jednodnieniu odlistawiam: … słodkowardzę… łaskawiczę… ujednieni nóżkujemy kaskadziejąc śmiechowodziem w wargoczwórni królewieję niebieścianie chodzicielka uaniela słońcokola w poematni… zbogiemłąćca ukościelnia dosięzejście… dzieciopiskli… w piersiopukni jakośliwie światoradnie w poematni wieloiście… w latobiegach dzieciomnożnych poemacę poemacę i miesięczę kaszkietując księgodajcom. (Ant. 182–​3; emphasis added) 216 “Arka” is an isolated example of using very different pseudo-​etymological methods in one text. For Author use only Futurist guessing games 207 Operating with inter-​ word oppositions within neologic compounds,217 “Futurobnia” does not valorize sound in any particular way. Experiments with word formation218 are clearly foregrounded here, unlike instrumentation, which appears almost in passing. The family of neologisms resembling sequences known from Khlebnikov (and Severyanin!), based on the root “poet/​poem” [poet/​poem] (“poecic,” “poemacić,” “poematnia”), is scattered throughout the text and the “cousins” meet relatively rarely, without affecting the poem’s sound in any significant way. Neologisms coined by Młodożeniec seem single-​use or occasional in morphological and sound terms as they do not repeat the same roots (or even ones phonically close) or affixes (at least not in close vicinity). A bigger role is played by alliteration, which is nevertheless unrelated to word formation –​words involved in this device do not share (or even pretend to share) etymology. One might discern these sound correspondences, but they do not determine the overall reception of the piece. This poem confirms that in Polish Futurism highly elaborate word formation does not necessarily entail homophonic instrumentation. Still, we should consider the reasons behind this. The poet opted for a total experiment –​in this relatively long poem there are only two fully meaningful, independent, unaltered words: “dzień” [day] and “czekająca” [waiting] (out of obvious reasons the passion for word formation spares prepositions, pronouns and conjunctions). Jarosiński claims that “this poem, built from neologisms, defines the vital linguistic direction taken by Młodożeniec: turning nouns into verbs or other deverbal forms.”219 However, apart from numerous verbal neologisms, “Futurobnia” also notably contains transformations of nominal parts of speech. Word formation based on nouns as well as word coinages based on language rules, stylized as archaic or unusual yet still understandable (e.g. “poecic [poet],” “licuneczek” [portrait], “chodzicielka” [the walking 217 For more on the concept of inter-​word oppositions see Introduction, 44–45. 218 Skubalanka proposed to define such series of neologisms as “contamination sequences” (ciągi kontaminacyjne) (Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna,” 9). In “Futurobnia” we encounter not only lexical contaminations [“overlapping … of two language units of the same order” according to Encyklopedia języka polskiego, eds. S. Urbańczyk, M. Kucała, Wrocław 1999, 192], but primarily neologisms created with the use of affixes (“uręczyłem;” “odlistawiam;” “uramienia”) and compounds (“księgodajcy;” “fotopiśnia;” “słodkowardzę;” “słońcokola”). 219 Jarosiński’s commentary in Ant. 182. In texts “Futurobnia,” “XX wiek,” “Panienki w lesie” (this list is rather short) neologising can be described using a formula developed by Sławiński and Głowiński: “Futurist neologism in the most representative form is a denominal, or more rarely, deadjectival verb. It often constitutes the result of entirely mechanical word formation processes (examples abound [a hyperbole!] in poems by Jasieński and Młodożeniec) undertaken, as it were, only to demonstrate that lexical material can be subjected to boundless ‘dynamization’ ” (Michał Głowiński, Janusz Sławiński, “Wstęp,” in Poezja polska okresu międzywojennego. Antologia, eds. M. Głowiński, J. Sławiński, part 1, Wrocław 1987, lxxi). For Author use only 208 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism woman]),220 bring the poem by Młodożeniec closer to ones by Khlebnikov. Still, differences between the two poets are far more important. What turns out to be crucial is not the number of denominal verbs (relatively rare in Khlebnikov) but the general principle of constructing the Polish poem. The text by Młodożeniec is an uncomplicated, almost mechanical toy. “Futurobnia” contains easily noticeable alliterations, but the author does not indicate any closer resemblances between his neologisms in terms of sound, morphology or etymology. After all, this is not the determining factor in the experiment behind the poem. Ultimately, its atmosphere and intention constitute the fundamental difference between Młodożeniec and Khlebnikov. The basic goal of the Polish poem can be defined in terms of its word formation, narration and ludic character. The point of departure is neologising in poetic language and its grammatical defamiliarization. It is only later that the peculiarity of sound emerges, stemming from the above. Certainly, the sonic dimension of a text created in this way greatly departs from what is familiar or even hackneyed in language (although the poem contains systemic neologisms, readers are struck by their novelty and unusual character). Despite the lack of sound figures, this approach could be regarded as a mode of instrumentation. Still, unlike Wat in namopaniki, Młodożeniec does not attempt to create a quasi-​religious incantation in which the homogeneity of sound (even that stemming from numerous violations of the language system) would go hand in hand with neologising. Nor does Młodożeniec attempt to obtain “maximum resonance”221 from his neologisms. Contrary to what Sławiński argues, syntactic relations prove to be an important textual component.222 The poet actually draws attention away from them by intro­ ducing a plethora of astonishing lexical innovations, although it becomes possible to lend meaning to the poem only after grasping syntactic and lexical relations between these coinages. It is not without reason that Skubalanka compares this text to instances of children’s wordplay, in which the first phonemes of the words are interchanged, e.g.: “Stryjał się kłaniaszek, plistu nie nalisał, bo palcował na chorzec” instead of “Kłaniał się stryjaszek, listu nie napisał, bo chorował na palec” [the uncle greeted, did not write a letter, because he had a sore finger].223 Although the method adopted by Młodożeniec is slightly different,224 his basic assumption 220 In the context of “Futurobnia” it is interesting to recall remarks made by Waszakowa regarding neologisms in the situation when “a word existing in language is for some reason unsatisfactory for the author.” Examples she quotes are “wysiadywacielka,” “uwnuczyć” and “żaluzjonista” (Krystyna Waszakowa, “Słowotwórczy aspekt procesów profilowania,” in Profilowanie w języku i w tekście, eds. J. Bartmiński, R. Tokarski, Lublin 1998, 108). 221 Jasieński, “Mańifest w sprawie poezji futurystycznej,” Ant. 20. 222 See Sławiński, Koncepcja języka poetyckiego, 88. Cf. Introduction, 45–​7. 223 Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna,” 9. 224 The fundamental linguistic operation in the ludic play mentioned by Skubalanka is metagram (absent in “Futurobnia”), which consists in switching the first sounds For Author use only Futurist guessing games 209 appears to be similar insofar as he aims to tell a story whose reconstruction is possible only after discovering the consistently applied yet unsophisticated mode of coding meanings.225 The comparison made by Skubalanka between the Futurist poem and children’s wordplay brings up the fact that such games have performed a ludic function by joyfully expressing the creative possibilities inherent in language (it seems highly unlikely that a poem written entirely in this manner could be reflective or tragic in character). The ludic unsophistication of the said guessing games was perfectly grasped by Tuwim and Słonimski, who parodied the neological-​narrative method of Młodożeniec in their “starobajki” [old-​fables], re-​writing famous eighteenth-​ and nineteenth-​century fables:226 in neighbouring words (see Jerzy Cieślikowski, Wielka zabawa, Wrocław 1985, 242). However, the phrases she quotes contain the neologising device used by Młodożeniec. The phrase “plistu nie nalisał” does not simply switch sound clusters –​ the metagram is inaccurate, allowing one to conclude that in fact the verb was created from a noun (from the reduced root “list” –​“lis”). On the other hand, in the phrase “stryjał się kłaniaszek” words exchange roots, which leads to the conclusion that a verb was created from a noun and vice versa. (A similar situation is encountered in another form of children’s play described by Skubalanka: apart from metagrammatic “policarze komisyjni” or “mięciu piesięcy” she mentions the phrase “napalcał na deptę.” See Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna,” 9–​10). 225 The author encoded the story using rather simple rules described above. However, we should note the linguistic dimension of this experiment. As Waszakowa notes (generalizing yet not without being partially right), individual parts of speech based on the same root (the conceptual basis), such as “czytelnia,” “czytelnik,” “czytanka,” “czytać,” “przeczytać,” “czytelny,” differ in terms of profiling (emphasising, accentuating) information: “nouns foreground objects, verbs –​processes, while adjectives –​atemporal (relational) characteristics” (Waszakowa, “Słowotwórczy aspect,” 110). Neologisms created by the poet revalue these foundations since verbs like “kaszkietować,” “miesięczeć,” “źrenicować” emphasize not the process but object or instrument. Furthermore, nominal coinages (“latobiegi,” “fotopiśnia”) connote not only “nominal” meanings but are also connected with verbal processuality (incidentally providing one of the roots for word formation). As is clear, word formation and instrumentation efforts by Młodożeniec lead to interesting “ontological and grammatical” revaluations (see Sławiński, Koncepcja języka poetyckiego, 88–​9). This may be one of the reasons why the relatively uncomplicated “Futurobnia” is regarded as an unusual and innovative piece. Perhaps this also sheds light on the controversial claim by S. Burkot, who argues that the linguistic passion of Młodożeniec “reaches … deeper into the mysteries of language than Tuwim’s wordplay in Słopiewnie or the constructivist assumptions of Peiper and Przyboś” (Stanisław Burkot, Stanisław Młodożeniec. Rzecz o chłopskim futuryście, Warszawa 1985, 47). 226 See Witold Ostrowski, “Starobajka,” Zagadnienia Rodzajów Literackich 112/​85–​86 (2000), 254. For Author use only 210 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism ODFREDRZONE STAROBAJKI Futurosioł Kłapousząc sianodajcom, Strzyżousząc, kręcogłowiąc spojrzeniuje, spojrzeniuje futurosioł owsosiano… Owsosiano pachnonęci. Owsochwyci –​sianożali, Sianochwyci –​żaloowsi… do białego słońcoświtu… Futurośli namyślennik głodopada kłapousząc.227 Let us return, however, to issues of fundamental import for this study. It seems that the lack of special features distinguishing this neological poem in terms of sound can be tied precisely to its clearly narrative character, which is conditioned by the fact of neologisms being based on different roots. Other neological experiments that span the entire text –​Wat’s namopaniki –​offer only a nebulous message and do not develop a distinct and specific “plot.” “Futurobnia,” on the other hand, is a thirty-​line account of the poet’s life, in which he discusses writing poetry (“umyślenia upapierzam poemacę” [What I think of I write on paper in the poetic form], publishing (“księgodajcy” [those providing people with books] who are supposed to “zdruczyć” [print] the poems), maintaining correspondence with one of the reader (who “liści” [writes letters to the poet]) and flirting with her (hardly translatable “słodkowardzę,” “łaskawiczę” employing roots “słodk” [sweet], “warg” [lip], “łask” [grace]). Finally, the poet marries the reader (the barely decipherable 227 Antoni Słonimski, Julian Tuwim, W oparach absurdu, Warszawa 1991, 30; originally printed in Kurier Polski, April 1921. The quoted text is a parody of a popular fable “Osiołkowi w żłoby dano” [The donkey was given food in the crib] by Aleksander Fredro. The Skamander poets also created “Starobajki rozkrasiczone,” parodying the text “Ptaszki w klatce” [Birds in a cage] by Ignacy Krasicki in the neologism-​rich manner of Młodożeniec: “Klatkoptasznia //​»Ślozooczysz, staroczyżu« /​młodożeniec piosenkował. /​»W klatkocieniu –​dobrożycie… /​w szczeropolu –​bólomęki…« /​»Klatkoptasznia twojożyciem« /​odpiosenczył staroczyżyk –​/​»wolnożyłem w słońcolesie /​oczoperlę w klatkomęce…«”. “W domowłaśni //​Żółwiożali małomyszka: /​»Skorupiejesz, biedozwierzu…« /​Odesłowił skorupowiec: /​»Ty pałacuj, zamkokróluj /​kociolękiem rozdrżącona… /​W ciasnodomiu lubosiedzę, /​ radożyję w domowłaśni…« /​STAROPIERNIK MŁODOŻENIEC” (W oparach absurdu, 30–​1). Moreover, some texts by “piurblagiści” (Witkacy, Tymon Niesiołowski, Tadeusz Langier) can be considered parodies of Futurist neologising, especially of Młodożeniec and to some extent Wat (namopaniki). See “Minitele,” “Hapsio,” in “Papierek lakmusowy,” Miesięcznik Literacki 9 (1970), 137. For Author use only Futurist guessing games 211 “zbogiemłąćca” [the one who joins with God –​priest], blesses the couple in church –​“ukościelnia dosięzejście”).228 The spouses have offspring in the “children-​ bearing” (“dzieciomnożne”) years. The poem, which initially appeared to be a vague słopiewnia, in the end turns out to be a simple yet tongue-​in-​cheek story, primarily meant as a jesting and uncomplicated guessing game, or an unsophisticated neological puzzle (especially in comparison with namopaniki). As shown above, any affinities with Khlebnikov are rare and virtually non-​existent. Another poem by Młodożeniec written in a manner similar to that of “Futurobnia” is “XX wiek” [The twentieth century], which also contains oppositions within words: zawiośniało –​latopędzi przez jesienność białośnieże. –​KINEMATOGRAF KINEMATOGRAF KINEMATOGRAF… słowikując szeptolesia falorycznie caruzieją. –​GRAMOPATHEFON GRAMOPATHEFON GRAMOPATHEFON… iokohama –​kimonooka cię kochają z europy –​RADIOTELEGRAM RADIOTELEGRAM RADIOTELEGRAM… espaniolę z ledisami parlowacąc sarmaceniem ESPERANTISTO ESPERANTISTO ESPERANTISTO… odwarszawiam kometuję dosłoneczniam AEROPLAN AEROPLAN… zjednoliterzam paplomanię. –​ STENOGRAFIA… (Ant. 181) “XX wiek” [The twentieth century] turns out to be much more distinctive in terms of sound than “Futurobnia,” which employs a similar kind of neologising. This is due not only to the multiple consonances within groups of neologisms (“zawiośniało … przez jesienność białośnieże”) or the assonance-​and alliteration-​rich “Japanese-​ like” phrasing229 (“iokohama kimonooka cię kochają z europy”). An impor­ tant role is also played here by mechanical repetition of words denoting modern inventions like gramophone, aeroplane and nickelodeon, which are often difficult to pronounce in Polish (“gramopathefon,” “aeroplan,” “kinematograf”). 228 Compounds like “zbogiemłąćca” or “dosięzejście” belong to a rare category of Polish compounds that contain a verbal root; cf. “widzimisię” or “wihajster” (from the German “Wie heiβt er?” [What is it called?]). 229 Words creating the discussed line are close to the phonological system of Japanese (lack of consonantal clusters, all syllables open, use of sounds whose proper articulation should not be problematic to a speaker of Japanese). I do not hold that this was intended by the poet (the goal was probably to phonically orientalize the text), but we should note this intriguing coincidence. See Alfred F. Majewicz, Języki świata i ich klasyfikowanie, Warszawa 1989, 186; Nikołaj S. Trubiecki, Podstawy fonologii, trans. A. Heinz, Warszawa 1970, 206. For Author use only 212 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism Sound-​ related distinctiveness is thus not rooted solely in word-​ formation as neologising is not a condition of alliteration since these are not cases of etymology or even pseudo-​etymology. The aforementioned context of children’s play is also present in “XX wiek,” in which words are repeated to the point of semantic and sonic defamiliarization as practiced by children.230 In fact, the experiment of Młodożeniec has little in common with works by Khlebnikov, nor is it related to other, par excellence avant-​garde techniques. Młodożeniec introduces uncomplicated, homophonic devices borrowed from simplest wordplay. Just like “Futurobnia” or “Wiosenno,” “XX wiek” plays with words, sounds and meanings. In the case of this poem, however, its key aspect is not simple narration but rather the neological representation of the essence of individual inventions. Intriguing parallels can be indicated between pairs of lines: the sudden change of seasons (first line) and the possibilities offered by the nickelodeon (second line); references to nightingales and Caruso (third line) and benefits of the gramophone (fourth line); allusions to Japan (fifth line) and communication through the radiotelegraph (sixth line). Poems discussed in the last two sections are far from the semantic and grammatical incoherence of mirohłady or namopaniki. Only few passages can be described as close to słopiewnie. This is caused by the lack of semantically nebulous etymological figures that establish homophony and the relatively deep care (for example in comparison with namopaniki) for the semantic expressiveness of neologisms deployed in unbroken structures of syntax and inflection. *** The neologising trend in Polish Futurist poetry includes many texts widely considered as par excellence avant-​garde and innovative. However, analysis of these flagship poetic experiments from the interwar period reveals several peculiar regularities. Primarily, strong neologising had far-​reaching consequences in both the sonic and the semantic dimension of these works. Certainly, Futurist neologising was not a homogenous phenomenon. Apart from texts approximating Khlebnikov’s experiments –​i.e. ones featuring strings of etymological (or more rarely –​pseudo-​etymological) figures based on several roots and neologisms –​there would be ones foregrounding sound and the language’s word-​formation potential, although basing on entirely different rules. For example, in the case of Młodożeniec such techniques are more reminiscent of children’s play with words and sounds than in poems by the Russian writer. It also turns out that the origins of paronymic groups of neologisms are more complex in poems by Jasieński (which sometimes display a strong affinity with neological formations typical of Leśmian’s poetry)231 and Stern (renouncing Slavophilia). In texts that 230 It is nevertheless difficult to agree with Burkot’s account of similarities between devices used by Młodożeniec and children’s play (Burkot, Stanisław Młodożeniec, 41–​2). 231 This certainly does not decide about the derivative character of works by Jasieński. For Author use only Futurist guessing games 213 are most unlike the ones by Khlebnikov, pseudo-etymological figures dominate. Many of the proposed word transformations would actually bear the hallmarks of literary and linguistic innovation, although some betray a strong connection with traditional devices found in low literature. The heritage of Khlebnikov is the most frequently cited context in this study. The resulting impression that the Polish poets were merely borrowing from the Russian’s literary workshop would be nevertheless amiss. The poem that comes closest to being straightforwardly derivative is the rather traditional “Przyśpiew” by Młodożeniec, which employs some of Khlebnikov’s compositional techniques (but also ones used by Severyanin) that can be associated with the famous “Incantation by laughter.” Most poems from the Futurist neologising current either elaborate original Polish ideas unrelated to the European avant-​garde or offer creative variations on poetic recipes developed over a decade earlier by Khlebnikov. There seems to be no ground to assess how well particular Polish poets were acquainted with his work. Most probably their knowledge was fragmentary.232 Exploring similari­ ties of textual configurations and typological parallels thus appears a much more rewarding approach than attempting any vague appraisal of influence.233 Crucial conclusions can be drawn from analyses of namopaniki. Wat’s compositions are both similar to ones by the Russian poet because of applying the creative method in the entire text and dissimilar owing to iconoclasm as well as simultaneous emphasis and renunciation of a pan-​Slavic character. From today’s perspective it possible to discern a clear dialogic relation between Khlebnikov and Wat, even if it did not occur at the level of intertextual inspirations (although Wat would admit ex post that Khlebnikov had a tremendous influence on Polish Futurism).234 Despite the fact that works by both writers are in certain ways sim­ ilar, Wat’s experimental namopaniki constitute his own, innovative proposition in terms of word formation and semantics. The literary examples discussed above demonstrate that Polish Futurists235 would not regard the sound of poetic language as a semantic cypher that could be solved by exploring configurations of neologisms, further helping to break the semantic codes of phonically related morphemes, sound clusters or individual 232 See Introduction. 233 As Zaworska claims, “new concepts of poetic word would emerge during this tur­ bulent, breakthrough period at the same time in many countries and among many creators” (Zaworska, “Nurt ‘Nowej Sztuki’,” 371). 234 Cf. Introduction, 26. 235 The name of Czyżewski has not been mentioned in this part of the book. In his texts, neologising experiments were sporadic and appear mostly in folk stylizations. (This problem is discussed further in parts devoted to “Dadaization” and the role of folklore in Polish Futurist poems). Let us also recall that Czyżewski probably did not know Russian, which makes it difficult to speak of Khlebnikov’s influence on his poetry (there are also no parallels in terms of composition). Cf. Introduction, 24. For Author use only 214 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism phonemes. Polish Futurism did not adopt ideas developed by Khlebnikov;236 how­ ever, it is possible that in some cases his individual poems proved inspirational. Polish Futurists did not develop a single, coherent word formation strategy, neither as a group nor as individual poets. Still, certain compelling ways of coining and deploying neologisms can be identified in their works: – Neologising experiments spanning entire texts and strongly reminiscent of Khlebnikov, in which neologisms are based on a small number of roots: Wat’s namopaniki. – Texts approximating ones by Khlebnikov in terms of word formation and his search for correspondences between words. In these works, inventive neological encrustation is an important element, although it is variously used (e.g. as ludic situational lyricism in “Wiosenno” by Jasieński, or as a play with convention and word-​formation laboratory in “Arka” by Stern). Any parallels with works by Khlebnikov are slight. – Poems in which neological innovation plays a relatively small role (neologisms being easily replaceable), certainly not becoming functional (and remaining largely ornamental, for example in “List” and “Przewrót” by Młodożeniec, “Śnieg,” “Podróżniczki” and “Panienki w lesie” by Jasieński). Methods of creating neologisms prove to be uncomplicated and in many cases different from ones used by Khlebnikov. In terms of semantics these works are diverse but do not offer any meta-​linguistic reflection akin to the Russian’s concept of poetry. – Works verging on being derivative due to straightforward adaptation of both method and specific solutions (“Przyśpiew” by Młodożeniec –​imitative of Severyanin and Khlebnikov). Such works feature no originally innovative elements. – Works in which word formation and composition are entirely dissimilar from those found in Khlebnikov due to the renouncing of phonic and pseudo-​ etymological configurations or the Slavic element (“Kosmiczny nos” by Stern). – Neological riddles spanning the entire text –​poems based on simple, centuries-​ old language games such as metagram (“Futurobnia” and “XX wiek” by Młodożeniec). Similarities with Khlebnikov are very distant in this case. Even if some derivations appear similar (e.g. “Futurobnia” features neologisms that pretend to be archaic), the texts’ goals are entirely at odds due to their narrative and ludic character. These various degrees of affinity with Khlebnikov’s works also have vital consequences in terms of word formation and sound, which is crucial from the perspective of this study. The mutual ties between word formation and instrumentation are certainly not obvious because word formation does not have to be correlated in every case with particular emphasis of the poem’s sound (e.g. “Futurobnia”). In 236 Neologising experiments of Polish writers were close to a rational yet quite ludic approach to language. For Author use only Futurist guessing games 215 case of many Futurist poems (namopaniki, “Arka,” or the neologising passages from “Panienki w lesie”) these two dimensions coexist without conditioning each other. Textual concepts are often based on complex etymological figures comprising largely neologisms that create specific phonic configurations. Use of this method –​ mastered to perfection by Khlebnikov, although playing a different function in his poetry (we should bear in mind the more frequent, non-​systemic character of Polish lexical innovations) –​yielded similar sonic results. Khlebnikov’s heritage can be also detected in pseudo-​etymologies appearing in Polish works, which lend the text homophony but are not necessarily neological (e.g. “Wiosenno”). Obviously, repetition of roots (as in namopaniki) necessarily entails homophony in certain passages. Moreover, it can diminish semantic clarity –​after all, the text remains in the circle of a single morpheme’s meaning. Juxtaposing paronyms of different roots (e.g. in “Wiosenno”) helps to achieve greater clarity in terms of the story. Importantly, in the case of namopaniki –​texts that employ the least transparent semantics, departing from easily decipherable semantic and logical connections between words (despite relatively clear syntax) –​the above diverse sound techniques acquire a crucial role in terms of the poem’s composition. Works that are not thoroughly experimental in terms of sound and (pseudo)etymology, approximating Khlebnikov’s poems only in places, turn out to be much less distinct as far as their sound is concerned (“Arka,” “Przyśpiew”). This remains true also in relation to works that are in their entirety word-​formation experiments conducted using different methods than ones employed by Khlebnikov (“XX wiek,” “Futurobnia”). In these poems, possible play with instrumentation is not connected with neologising. Notably, in almost all texts representing the neologising current a significant role is played by syntax. It binds neologisms together, sometimes forming passages that are semantically nebulous yet possible to be interpreted as linguistic messages. The role of syntax is perhaps best captured by the comparison of two namopaniki which employ similar techniques of word formation and instrumentation: “Namopanik barwistanu” and “Namopanik charuna.” The one respecting rules of syntax seems to be much clearer in terms of semantics. In his discussion of “intra-​word oppositions” stemming from the construction of neologisms, Sławiński erroneously underestimates the role of syntactic rigour in experiments of this kind,237 as demonstrated in the analysis of “Futurobnia.” It seems that the ordering role of syntax is strongly connected with the saturation of the text with neologisms. Except for some passages from “Wiosenno” and the civilizational “refrains” from “XX wiek” there are almost no instances of arrangements akin to “words-​in-​freedom.” The reason is simple: a text comprising syntactically unconnected neologisms would lose its communicative character –​something the authors in fact cared about. 237 Sławiński, Koncepcja języka poetyckiego, 88. Cf. also Introduction, 45–​7. For Author use only 216 Imitating Khlebnikov? The neological current in Polish Futurism Analysis shows that the typologies discussed in Introduction –​ones proposed by scholars describing the sonic character of Futurism –​have proven insufficient to account for word formation and instrumentation in works by Wat, Stern, Jasieński and Młodożeniec. Gazda did not introduce any detailed categorizations, while ones by developed by Balcerzan and Sławiński are de facto “operational” analytical tools. The term “repeated roots/​sounds” (a modification of Balcerzan’s proposition) is definitely too broad as it covers numerous, differently motivated and variously implemented experiments (some of them are discussed further in the book). Sławiński’s findings are not much more helpful. His concept of automatism identified in Futurist harmonies is debatable. As analyses show, harmonies are usually semantically motivated and syntactically ordered. On the other hand, texts that employ intra-​word oppositions (“Panienki w lesie,” “Futurobnia”) display different sound characteristics. Thus, these findings are discussed here primarily as part of literature review. This study offers two terminological propositions. The first is to indicate three types of semantically opaque works that employ neologisms and/​or echo-​or glossolalias, usually making sound arrangement their constitutive feature. Their descriptions are usually terminologically inconsistent, which causes the groups of asemantic texts to be even more amorphous. However, three categories can be identified: słopiewnie, namopaniki and mirohłady. This classification can be treated as a genological proposition. The second proposition consists in the introduction of the term “sound cubism” (as used in the discussion of Wat’s namopaniki). Comparative analysis of the Futurist neologising current demonstrates, on the one hand, connections between its Polish representatives and foreign avant-​garde (Khlebnikov, asemantic and sound-​foregrounding practices of the Dadaists and Kruchyonykh as well as specific cubist filiations) and on the other –​their uniqueness and originality (despite certain inconsistencies). Concluding the considerations of Futurist experiments with word formation and sound, it remains important to underline the specificity of today’s reception of homophonic works that feature dense repetition the same sounds or their entire clusters. This would concern works such as namopaniki, “Wiosenno,” or passages from “Arka.” Nowadays, readers may be inclined to consider such works –​ones consistently foregrounding their sonic dimensions –​as euphonic and thus realizing the principle of agreeable tone. However, ascribing euphony to these experiments is entirely unjustified from the perspective of many traditional European poetics.238 Using obsessively recurring harmonies, these texts would be deemed as discordant and thus entirely non-​euphonic. It was accentuated since centuries that poetic rules prescribe “persistent harmonies in endings of sentences, words or lines; repetition of sounds [especially vowels]239 and words; use of words that sound almost 238 See Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 61–​93. 239 Repetition of consonants was nevertheless widely regarded as a “component of euphony” already in the nineteenth century, as demonstrated in the selection of For Author use only Futurist guessing games 217 the same,”240 while paronomastic word-​sound concepts appearing in “Asia-​and baroque-​inspired currents” were not treated as instances of euphony.241 This obser­ vation regarding the reception of alliteration-​heavy works as euphonic discloses the differences in the assessment of poetry’s sonic dimension.242 The fact that readers today may treat Wat’s or Jasieński’s experiments as euphonic, “beautiful in sound,” proves the significant revaluation of concepts such as beauty or harmony, and in a narrower perspective, the extraordinary lesson of the interwar period (actually rooted in symbolism),243 which has determined today’s reception of such sonic-​linguistic concepts. 240 241 242 243 Young Poland works analysed in the previous chapter. However, an important role was also played by the phonotactic structure of a given language. Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 62. See Skwarczyńska, Wstęp do nauki o literaturze, Vol. 2, 189. See Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 62–​90. Skwarczyńska wrote in 1954: “Euphony cannot crystallize in isolation from content. … For this reason, in certain cases repetition is the condition of euphony, while in other situations it is rooted in lack of repetition (e.g. by introducing a synonym). Regardless of this general principle, it remains true that we are struck (perhaps by a force of habit that goes back many centuries) with repetitions, especially close ones that seem unjustified by expression. They draw our attention in an unpleasant way, whereas diversity passes unnoticed” (Skwarczyńska, Wstęp do nauki o literaturze, Vol. 2, 190; emphasis added). Furthermore, she notes that “unintended sound repetition or excessive similarity –​when they are non-​expressive and entail the risk of blurring the semantic distinctiveness of words in which they appear –​constitute a mistake, a language mistake at that, since they endanger the communicative function of the enunciation” (193). Skwarczyńska postulates departing from stylistic dogmas derived from antiquity but is far from accepting frequent repetitions that appear close to each other (and, naturally, from regarding them as euphonic). On the other hand, as I have demonstrated, from the perspective of numerous traditional poetics, cacophonic configurations of sound in namopaniki are semantically justified (obscurity and multitude of contexts are not random there) and expression may justify, as she contends, frequent harmonies. It nevertheless seems that today’s readers are far more liberal with regard to questions of sound in poetry. For more on the meaning of symbolism according to literary studies of Polish and Russian literature, see Pomorska, Literatura a teoria literatury, 264 ff; Pomorska, Russian Formalist Theory, 55–​76. As she writes, “it was already symbolism that pushed the role of sound into the foreground, but Futurism gave it the function of poetry’s sole hero” (Pomorska, Literatura a teoria literatury, 276). See also the clarification (80–​2). For Author use only For Author use only Chapter Three F  reedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? How much Dada is there in Polish Futurism? 1. Th  e Dada controversy This chapter aims to verify to what degree we may link the poetry of Polish Futurism with “the most total rebellion among the artistic avant-gardes of the early twentieth century.”1 As Endre Bojtár has famously argued, in Eastern Europe movements called “Futurist” were in fact closer to Western European Dadaism and thoroughly streaked with it.2 Studying Polish avant-garde from this perspective is all the more essential because the literary achievements of the Dadaists remain largely unknown in Poland.3 Translations into Polish cover only a small portion of the Dadaist heritage. No anthology of such texts or individual volume of poems 1 2 3 Małgorzata Baranowska, “Dadaizm,” in Słownik literatury polskiej XX wieku, eds. A. Brodzka et al., Wrocław 1992, 165. See Endre Bojtár, “Awangarda wschodnioeuropejska jako kierunek literacki (I),” trans. J. Walicka, Miesięcznik Literacki 11 (1973), 34–5. Analyses of the Polish Futurist heritage cover only poems written before 1926 (cf. Introduction, 10–13, 51). In the case of Dadaist works the caesura is set at 1922 (since the Dadaist “impetus” weakened considerably after 1922), although this date should not be considered as defining the end of all Dadaist creativity. Almost all Dadaist texts quoted here were published before 1922, but several later ones are also taken into account (almost solely in the case of the Hannover “outsider” – Kurt Schwitters; quotations from his texts are accompanied by dates of composition). Another important yet difficult boundary sets apart Dadaism from surrealism in the case of artists who participated in the former and later joined the latter: for Max Ernst it was 1922, Hans Arp – 1925, Tristan Tzara – 1929. See DADA total. Manifeste, Aktionen, Texte, Bilder, eds. K. Riha, J. Schäfer, Stuttgart 1994, 332–3, 339; Günter Berghaus, “Futurism, Dada and Surrealism: Some Cross-Fertilisations among the Historical Avant-gardes,” in International Futurism in Arts and Literature, ed. G. Berghaus, Berlin 2000, 300. This part of the book also discusses poets more loosely associated with Dadaism, who would nevertheless work together with “orthodox” Dadaists and publish in their periodicals (e.g. Pierre Albert-Birot, Georges Ribemont-Dessaignes). This study does not trace genetic dependencies between Polish and foreign poetry, which means that sometimes earlier texts by Polish Futurists are compared with later Dadaist works. The point is not to indicate literary borrowings (which are typically uncertain – cf. Introduction, 25–28), but to compare verse structures. For Author use only 220 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? by any of these revolutionaries has been published in Poland (which ought to be remedied as soon as possible). Grzegorz Gazda is right when he claims that [Dada’s] place in the literary studies process is determined (as modern studies show) by the context of its emergence: somewhere between Futurism and surrealism, never independently. Thus, its accounts are reduced to noting a “movement” that brought anarchy into art and whose effects, if discerned at all, are deemed as a proto-surrealist stage in the development of the avant-garde. Their “poems” are only accounted for in anthologies that document them as a literary studies extravagance. Other anthologies, meant to display “timeless” values and confirm the “continuity of tradition” (both collective and individual) usually skip them. This is the price paid by Dadaism for its deluge and anti-traditionalist purification.4 In Polish literary studies, Dadaism is usually regarded through the lens of popular opinions that do not reflect the movement’s heterogeneity and complexity. Works by Tristan Tzara, Hugo Ball, Richard Huelsenbeck or Kurt Schwitters are typically dismissed using the simplest formulas. These views include the claim that the only principle in Dadaist poetry consisted in absolute freedom to work with words or their parts, while its basic ideal was that of “intellectual anarchy.”5 It is true that Dadaist art adhered to tenets far removed from codified cultural traditions. Just like carnival festivities often involve suspension of common rules, Dadaists would shun limitations imposed by everyday realities, especially ones related to language, specifically comprehensibility, economy, grammar as well as literary canons. It remains debatable, however, whether Dadaist poetry is in fact entirely “incoherent” and asemantic. The question of meaning constructed on top of extraordinary phonic configurations plays a crucial role in these analyses. Undoubtedly, the semantics of Dadaist pieces often proves difficult to grasp. It is not without reason that Tzara’s hat became symbolic of this approach: he would pull words out of it, arranging them in random, euphonic or discordant sequences.6 Dadaism 4 5 6 Grzegorz Gazda, Awangarda – nowoczesność i tradycja, Łódź 1986, 187. Helena Zaworska, O nową sztukę. Polskie programy artystyczne lat 1917–1922, Warszawa 1963, 40. See also Stanisław I. Witkiewicz, “O skutkach działalności naszych futurystów,” in Bez kompromisu. Pisma krytyczne i publicystyczne, ed. J. Degler, Warszawa 1976, 128. The cut-up creative method using words from newspapers thrown into a bag or hat and assembled into random texts is described by Tzara in the poem “Pour faire un poème dadaiste” [To make a Dadaist poem]; see Georges Hugnet, L’aventure Dada (1916–1922), [without place of publishing] 1971, 228. The first part is an instruction of using the newspaper and scissors, while the second is a sample poem created in this way (qtd. after DADA total, 266–7; also published in Dada. 113 Gedichte, ed. K. Riha, Berlin 2003, 72). Chance was regarded by Dadaists (and later by surrealists) as a “constructive” factor in visual art. (Naturally, Dadaists were not the first to embrace chance in art as this issue was also explored by August Strindberg For Author use only The Dada controversy 221 is a movement whose heritage includes works that are largely obscure in terms of meaning, e.g. asemantic phonetic poems or ones recited simultaneously by several performers, resulting in an absurd cacophony of words and sounds.7 It is thus difficult to indicate any prevailing rules or creative canons within this particular movement. Nevertheless, it is inaccurate to reiterate the claim, commonly repeated in Polish literary studies, that all works by Dadaists are random, asemantic and alogical. For example, Józef Heistein is certainly overgeneralizing when he argues that in works by “orthodox” Dadaists it is very difficult to identify themes or tropes because iconoclastic slogans about total negation regard all areas of life and art; what draws attention in these works is the use of vulgar language and the removal of any semantic value from words save for underscoring their “lack of value.”8 Helena Zaworska, in turn, concludes that the Dadaists, convinced about the absurdity of the world and determined to express this in the most precise manner, developed a theory of nonsensical art, one that does not communicate 7 8 and Leonardo da Vinci. See e.g.: Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Czas, przypadek i metafizyka moralności,” Arkusz 4 (2003), 12–3). This is not limited to ludic play, e.g. the “exquisite corpse” (adding subsequent elements of a drawing or text by each participant), but also involves more radical actions fully “reliant on fate,” e.g. sand paintings by Andre Masson, certain composition by Hans Arp and the Visionary Portraits by Hans Richter. See Hans Richter, Dadaizm. Sztuka i antysztuka, trans. J. S. Buras, Warszawa 1983, 82–9 ff; The Dada Painters and Poets: An Anthology, ed. R. Motherwell, New York [undated], 313–5; Rafał Koschany, Przypadek. Kategoria egzystencjalna i artystyczna w literaturze i filmie, Wrocław 2006, 64, 93–111. See Christopher W. E. Bigsby, Dada and Surrealism, London 1972, 15–6; Enno Stahl, Anti-Kunst und Abstraktion in der literarischen Moderne (1909–1933). Vom italienischen Futurismus bis zum französischen Surrealismus, Frankfurt am Main 1997, 278–81, 300–3; Richter, Dadaizm, 61–6; Józef Heistein, “Décadentisme, symbolisme, avant-garde dans les littératures européennes. Recueil d’études,” Acta Universitatis Wratislaviensis 1019, Wrocław 1987, 108. The origins of simultaneous poems, a form developed and perfected by the Dadaists, should be traced in the activities of the Italian Futurists; see Berghaus, “Futurism, Dada and Surrealism,” 284. See also Kalina Kupczyńska, “Kakofonia wielkiego miasta,” Tygiel Kultury 7–9 (2005), 140. For more on relations between Italian Futurists (Tzara, Huelsenbeck, Albert-Birot, Marinetti, Prampolini) and theatre, music (bruitism) or phonetic poetry see Berghaus, “Futurism, Dada and Surrealism,” 284–304; see also Jerzy Stempowski, “Chimera jako zwierzę pociągowe,” in Chimera jako zwierzę pociągowe, ed. J. Timoszewicz, Warszawa 1988, 145–198. Józef Heistein, Wprowadzenie do literaturoznawstwa porównawczego. Literatura awangardowa w świetle badań porównawczych, Wrocław 1990, 111; emphasis added. I do not polemicize with the thesis that there are Dadaist works of alogical and asemantic character, but rather with the claim that all Dadaist texts are like this (even when written by orthodox Dadaists). For Author use only 222 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? anything and exists only for itself. Since doubt has been cast on all truths, art would be no longer obliged to carry any message. As a result, works of art could be treated as a meaningless expression of emotional experiences, or an asemantic and autonomous assemblage of sounds.9 In many Dada texts, the disorderliness of words, morphemes and phonemes precludes any coherent interpretation.10 Still, many Dadaist works can be in fact expli­ cated, at least to some degree. Obscurity of meaning was never an axiom in this anti-programmatic movement; even works as hermetic as Schwitters’s Ursonate can be demonstrated to contain sound clusters that have clear semantic connotations.11 There are pieces that use undeformed lexemes and regular syntax, although they may remain absurd in terms of their message.12 Zaworska’s harsh assessment may be fruitfully balanced with the findings of Christopher Bigsby: They [the Dadaists] wanted, in Jean Arp’s words, to capture “the language of light” … – to make people alive to the creative possibility of language shorn of its burden of definitive meaning. They wished to charge the word with a new energy. As Hugo Ball insisted, “We should withdraw into the inner alchemy of the word, and even surrender the word; in this way conserving for poetry its most sacred domain. We should stop making poems second-hand; we should no longer take over words (not even to speak of sentences) which we did not invent absolutely anew, for our own use.”13 The title of this chapter may suggest that Dadaism entails complete arbitrariness of phonic structures. However, this issue can be perceived from a broader perspective by attempting to display various aspects of this movement, ones often disregarded in Polish literary studies, and discussing – as is crucial for the book’s aims – various possible relations between Dadaism and Polish Futurism. Sonic arbitrariness can be attributed, to a far greater degree, to the former rather than the latter. Still, this question is more complex than it would appear at first glance. Therefore, the following analyses involve, out of scholarly duty, not only rediscovering Futurism 9 Zaworska, O nową sztukę, 72–3; emphasis added. 10 Heistein quotes a sample “meaningless” Dadaist piece: an excerpt from a play by Tzara Première aventure céleste de M. Antipyrine [The first celestial adventure of Mr. Antipyrin]: “PREGNANT WOMAN: Toundi – a – voua Soco Bgai A ahou / MR BLEUBLEU: Farafamgama Bgai A ahou … MR ANTYPIRYN: Painless mechanism 1798 58 555 / iého bibo fibi aha / my God, my God along the canal / puerpueral fever SO2H4 … / MR CRICRI: / masks and rottings snows circus Pskov / I push the factory into circus Pskov / the sexual organ is square, / lead greater than volcano / and flies over Mgambati” (qtd. after Heistein, Wprowadzenie do literaturoznawstwa porównawczego, 111; see also Stahl, Anti-Kunst und Abstraktion, 261–3). 11 Cf. section two in this chapter. 12 See the remarks by Baranowska, “Dadaizm,” 165. 13 Bigsby, Dada and Surrealism, 27. See also Bernd Scheffer, “Schönes Verständliches, Unverständliches,” Text + Kritik 92 (1986), 89–98. For Author use only The Dada controversy 223 but also explicating Dadaism, the latter task never fully realized so far in the Polish context. At first, we should question one more stereotype widespread in literary studies. Dadaism is often regarded as a pessimistic movement, one that negates the meaningfulness of any artistic activity (cf. Aragon’s infamous “suicide of poetry”)14 and destroys all achievements in literature and art.15 However, this view is an over­ generalization that seems unfair to this diverse and, after all, vitalistic movement.16 The Dadaists’ activities in language17 were meant to refresh means of communica­ tion by referring to what is primal, random, uncanny and comic.18 Negation of the established artistic order and of ossified social configurations would not always imply pessimistic nihilism.19 14 See Aragon’s poem “Suicide:” “A b c d e f / g h i j k l / m n o p q r / s tu v w / x y z” (qtd. after Helena Zaworska, “Przygoda jednego pokolenia,” Twórczość 2 (1962), 71). 15 As Janicka argues, “[Dadaists] who employed scandalizing gestures and grotesque grimaces would deride and bitterly ironize all values cherished by the middle-class in an attempt to demonstrate that nothing is worth engagement and effort anymore, and that negating everything is the only right attitude. The negation covered art too” (Krystyna Janicka, Surrealizm, Warszawa 1985, 6). According to Zaworska, Dadaist rebellion “was consistently anarchic and would not replace negation with any positive postulates. It would believe neither in the past nor in the future (or the present), aspiring to complete liberation from historical time and social framework” (Zaworska, O nową sztukę, 44; see also 45–9, 59–60, 65–7). In its early days, i.e. during the time of Cabaret Voltaire, Dadaism was not a politically or socially engaged movement. This changed significantly later, especially in Germany. However, even gestures of the Zurich Dadaists, who explicitly referred to Buddhist philosophy (one such claim by Tzara is quoted by Zaworska, O nową sztukę, 44), should not be regarded merely as an anarchic negation of everything. See also Zaworska, “Przygoda jednego pokolenia,” 66–9. 16 See Mary A. Caws, Poetry of Dada and Surrealism: Aragon, Breton, Tzara, New Jersey 1970, 95–6; Marcel Janco, “Creative Dada / Schöpferischer Dada / Dada Créateur,” in Dada. Monograph of a Movement / Monographie einer Bewegung / Monographie d’un mouvement, ed. W. Verkauf, Teufen [undated], 26–49; Zaworska, “Przygoda jednego pokolenia,” 73 ff. 17 Apparently, it is impossible to escape language, even through such extreme gestures as those of the Dadaists; see Heistein, “Décadentisme, symbolisme, avant-garde,” 108. 18 See e.g.: Micheline Tison-Braun, Dada et le Surréalisme, Paris 1973, 25. 19 See e.g.: Tristan Tzara, “Note sur la poésie,” in Sept manifestes dada. Lampisteries, [no place of publication] 1963, 103–7. Bigsby concludes: “Yet paradoxically, there was something positive at the heart of their revolt. While they were in a sense merely living out the absurdity of their age, they were also expressing certain values in their work. … They were not merely pulling artistic derelicts in order to provide room for new foundations; they were providing a useful antidote to what they took to be defunct social and artistic assumptions” (Bigsby, Dada and Surrealism, 24). For Author use only 224 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? The focus of the following comparatist analyses is to foreground those Dada works in which the sonic layer is clearly exposed;20 these texts are mainly glosso­ lalic and echolalic in character, or combine grammatically correct sentences with ones partially or entirely asemantic. Works by Polish Futurists are also compared in this chapter with Dadaist poems which, for various reasons, are close to Polish pieces yet do not necessarily foreground the sonic dimension. The comparatist method adopted here to draw parallels between various texts is naturally not fully authoritative as it entails certain simplifications and generalizations. The point was to select works that best represent Dadaism (the body of Polish works is much larger and accounts for almost all Dadaist-like texts) with the aim to display those poetic practices that shed some interesting or even surprising light on works by Stern, Wat, Czyżewski, Młodożeniec and Jasieński. As a result, pairs of works often reveal similarities or disparities regarding the said movements, which would be difficult to note in different modes of analysis. This chapter accounts for both Cabaret Voltaire experiments and later texts produced in France, Germany and Switzerland.21 It would be certainly simpler to focus only on the more homogenous and subversive Zurich scene, which was defined by its anti-war sentiments. Nevertheless, we should expand the present analysis in order to cover other Dadaist pieces and compare them with Polish works (without negating differences between the achievements of Cabaret Voltaire and, for example, the poetics of Mehring or Grosz).22 The importance of such comparisons was noted by Andrzej Lam, who has written thus on the German Dada: It is difficult to find a more perfect mixture of various tendencies in a single epoch: revolutionary panache and petty bourgeois anarchism, utilitarianism and utopianism, solemnity and ridicule. … Clinging to appearances of strength and health, turning eyes away from chasms and voids, programmatic fleetingness of existence and lack of consequences, hysterical swings from enthusiasm to despair – these symptoms were indicative of a turning point for the period’s consciousness. In Poland, a similar role was played at that time by the so-called Futurists (confirming the relativity of terms describing new art). These similarities have not been properly underlined so far since critical attention has focused – not without reason – on Russian Futurism.23 20 We should recall that the Zurich Dadaists probably knew Khlebnikov’s soundpoetry (Kandinsky being the “liasion”). See Bernd Scheffer, Anfänge experimenteller Literatur. Das literarische Werk von Kurt Schwitters, Bonn 1978, 225. Contacts between Dadaists and the Russian avant-garde are also discussed in Rainer Grübel, “Hans / Jean Arp und die russische Avantgarde,” Text + Kritik 92 (1986), 51–65. 21 For more on the differentiation within Dadaism see Andrzej Lam, Polska awangarda poetycka, Kraków 1969, 152–5; Stahl, Anti-Kunst und Abstraktion, 212–388. 22 See The Dada Painters and Poets, 141–2. 23 Lam, Polska awangarda poetycka, 154–5. For Author use only The Dada controversy 225 As I have emphasized several times above, when read from the perspective of European avant-garde, poems by Wat, Stern, Jasieński, Czyżewski and Młodożeniec often display specific eclecticism, revealing a tangle of various conventions and attempts to employ innovative (though not fully implemented) creative methods.24 The plane of relations with Dadaism is the least explored area in the otherwise broad studies of these Polish authors. This context thus calls for further explication. One way of discerning possible Dadaist influences is to examine various techniques of instrumentation. Opinions about the relations between Poles and Dadaists tend to be radical. To recall the already cited passage from Wat, “[u]‌doubtedly, the most important influences include, on the one hand, Russian Futurism, Mayakovsky and especially Khlebnikov, while on the other – Dadaism. Thus, the matter could be reduced to Dadaism.”25 As Joanna Pollakówna notes, “the vitality of Dadaist genes was astonishing, regardless of the kind of Dadaism we may speak of, because Polish Futurism was also as a variant of European Dadaism.”26 On the other hand, Małgorzata Baranowska argues that “Polish Futurism produced very few works approximating Dadaism.”27 The question of relations between Dadaism and Polish Futurism also surfaced in Western commentaries. In 1968, Association Internationale pour l’Étude de Dada et du Surréalisme published an issue of Cahiers Dada Surréalisme that contains a large section devoted to works by Polish Futurists, titled “Un dadaïsme polonais?” (It features translations from Jasieński, Wat, Stern, Młodożeniec and Czyżewski).28 Many poems analysed here are inc­ luded in this selection.29 Its editors regard these works as confirmation that there indeed was a specific Polish mutation of Dada. 24 Cf. Introduction. See also e.g.: Benjamin Goriély, “L’avant-garde littéraire en Pologne,” Cahiers Dada Surréalisme 2 (1968), 70–1. 25 Aleksander Wat, Mój wiek. Pamiętnik mówiony, part 1, eds. Cz. Miłosz, L. Ciołkoszowa, Warszawa 1990, 25. Majerski commented on this claim, arguing that “we shall not find any specific information about reading Dadaists here or in any other reminiscences of the Futurists regarding their earliest activities” (Paweł Majerski, Anarchia i formuły. Problemy twórczości poetyckiej Anatola Sterna, Katowice 2001, 92; emphasis added). 26 Joanna Pollakówna, Malarstwo polskie między wojnami 1918–1939, Warszawa 1982, 15. 27 Baranowska, “Dadaizm,” 165. Although it is not free from simplifications, the most exhaustive analysis of relations between Polish Futurism and Dadaism is contained in Maria Delaperrière, Polskie awangardy a poezja europejska. Studium wyobraźni poetyckiej, trans. A. Dziadek, Katowice 2004, 128–141. 28 “Un dadaïsme polonais?,” Cahiers Dada Surréalisme 2 (1968), 65–130. 29 If a given piece was included among works suspected of Dadaism in Cahiers Dada Surréalisme, this is indicated each time in footnotes. For more on the anthology of Dadaism planned by Stern and his selection of Polish Futurist poems see Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 92. For Author use only 226 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? It is true that the newly found freedom in language triggered an avalanche of poems whose form was entirely unlike anything seen before in Poland. However, we should examine whether Dadaism constitutes the only relevant analytical context in this case (or even the main one), i.e. whether everything can be explained by the ubiquity of “Dada genes,”30 reducing the works in question to “Dada twittering” and “nonsensolalia.”31 We should adopt a sound- and semantics-based perspective to analyse Polish texts deemed by scholars as Dadaist in character or even par excellence Dadaist, as well as ones that have not been hailed as Dadaist yet seem close in spirit for various reasons. It is perhaps poignant to note, as Benjamin Goriély does in his discussion of Polish Futurism, that “the spirit of Dadaism manifests in ‘sound poetry’ (la poésie sonore).”32 What follows is an analysis of several types of Futurist poetic works in comparison with the “literary insanities”33 of Tzara, Ball, Huelsenbeck and Schwitters. This aims to verify how justified it is to ascribe Dadaist tendencies to texts written by Polish authors, and to what extent the discussed poems can be related to other avant-gardes as well as traditional creative endeavours.34 30 Pollakówna, Malarstwo polskie. 31 Terms developed by Irzykowski in the article “Futuryzm a szachy,” in Karol Irzykowski, Słoń wśród porcelany. Lżejszy kaliber, Kraków 1976, 102. 32 Goriély, “L’avant-garde littéraire en Pologne,” 70 (in “Un dadaïsme polonais?”). 33 See the study on the Dadaist “fools’ feast:” Reinhard Döhl, “Unsinn der Kunst gegen Wahnsinn der Zeit,” Text + Kritik 92 (1986), 66–80. 34 The “Dadaization” of Polish Futurism interestingly figures in the one-act play Papierek lakmusowy by S. I. Witkiewicz, T. Langier and T. Niesiołowski. Inspired by Pam-Bam, Witkacy thus wrote on Futurism: “We are only beginning to overcome realism. Formal Art is only germinal and these beginnings are bombarded, without any real reason arising from actual jadedness, by an avalanche of artificial ‘saturation with form,’ and – even worse – by nonsense and chance [Witkacy held that “rightful” nonsense is possible, which he found in texts by Polish Futurists who approximated Pure Form], which is closely followed by the terrible spectre of overwhelming jadedness. I have grown fond of the time when work shall be worthless, while long-term efforts to create beautiful things by honest people will be indistinguishable from the destructive work of Dadaist jackals and self-conscious fabricators. When we published the one-off issue Papierek lakmusowy [in 1921], that is Tadeusz Langier, Tymon Niesiołowski and me, it was our manifesto of ‘pure fabrication,’ an antidote to these phenomena, a memento for lost and confused artists, and a warning to the public. At the same time, our programme of open fabrication was supposed to help distance ourselves from all such tendencies” (Witkiewicz, “O skutkach działalności,” 130; see also 123–31). Lam points out that mocking artistic poses and subverting canons is also a Dadaist strategy. In a commentary on Papierek he claims: “The easiest way is to regard this publication just like the main author intended [Witkacy, under the pseudonym of Marceli Duchański-Blaga]: as a ridicule of the Futurists and the Dadaists, especially because one can identify parodies of widely discussed manifestoes by Jasieński as well as poems by Stern, Wat, Młodożeniec and Czyżewski, not to mention the late tendencies within Young For Author use only The Dada controversy 227 It is crucial to ask about the artistic rules that bind Futurist texts, and to assess what was more important to Polish poets: randomness, purely phonic motivation, or a certain sonic-semantic concept. As already mentioned, Dadaism cannot be unambiguously regarded as a movement marked by “complete freedom,” which entails that the following considerations must necessarily involve further scholarly clarification of the Dada heritage. Poland mixed with expressionism in the manner of Miciński. Still, mocking those who break canons as their new principle was also something that the Dadaists would practice. What thus emerged was a peculiar perpetuum mobile of the avantgarde” (Andrzej Lam, “Zabawa w blagę istotną,” Miesięcznik Literacki 9 (1970), 129). Interestingly, Papierek continuously conflates Futurism and Dadaism; see “Papierek lakmusowy,” Miesięcznik Literacki 9 (1970), 130–1. For Author use only 228 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Illustration 4. First page of the one-off issue Nuż w bżuhu. 2 jednodńuwka futurystuw [misspelt: Knife in the belly], Kraków 1921. Format: 930 × 615 ;mm. For Author use only The Dada controversy Illustration 5. The second (and last) page of Nuż w bżuhu. For Author use only 229 230 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? In the one-off issue Nuż w bżuhu [Knife in the stomach], which references Dadaist proclamations, Polish Futurists announce: 30.000 egzemplaży mańifestu futurystuw – rozhwytano po całej polsce w ćągu 14 dńi. dźgńęte nożem w bżuh ospałe bydlę sztuki polskiej zaczęło ryczeć. pszez otwur żygnęła lawa futuryzmu. obywatele, pomużće nam zedżeć z was wasze znoszone od codźenne- go użytku skury. … demokraći wywieśće sztandary ze słowami naszyh szwajcarskih pszyjaćuł: Hcemy szczać we wszystkih kolorah35 Obywatele, malujće śę śebie, swoje żony i dźeci!36 Śćiskamy dłoń francji i szwajcarji. Marinetti jest nam obcy. Wkrutce odbędą śę nowe karnawały poezji futurystycznej w warszawie, krakowie, lwowie, poznaniu37 [Thirty thousand copies of the Futurist manifesto were snapped up in fourteen days. The sluggish beast of Polish art, pierced with a knife in the stomach, began to roar. Futurist lava burst through the orifice. Citizens, help us tear down the worn-out skins from your bodies. … democrats, fly the banners with words by our Swiss friends: We wish to piss in all colours Citizens, paint yourselves yourselves, your wives and children! We shake the hands of France and Switzerland. Marinetti is foreign to us. Soon there shall be new carnivals of Futurist poetry in Warsaw, Kraków, Lviv, Poznań] 35 Nuż w bżuhu. 2 jednodńuwka futurystuw, Kraków 1921, 1, emphasis preserved (see also Antologia polskiego futuryzmu i Nowej Sztuki, ed. H. Zaworska, Wrocław 1978, 29). An allusion to the 1916 manifesto by Tzara (see p. 319). 36 Nuż w bżuhu; emphasis preserved. 37 Nuż w bżuhu; emphasis preserved. For Author use only The Dada controversy 231 The manifesto titled Gga reads: “we choose simplicity, vulgarity, cheerfulness, health, triviality, laughter.”38 Instead of inventions, what counts is “primitive means of communication. apotheosis of horse.”39 In the poem “Muza na czworakach” [Muse on all fours], Stern argues: wybiegłszy na czworakach z tobą na ulicę zaczniemy wołać, o muzo, meee albo hau hau! [having ran into the street on all fours we will be calling, oh muse, baa or woof woof!] (Stern, Wz 66; emphasis preserved)40 38 Anatol Stern, Aleksander Wat, “Prymitywiści do narodów świata i do Polski,” in Antologia polskiego futuryzmu, 3. 39 Stern, Wat, “Prymitywiści,” 4. Consider several critical comments regarding this symptomatic manifesto. First, Lam argues that the Gga almanac “was a double mystification; whereas nonsense was quite ordinary for Dadaists, the almanac contains a pastiche of Futurist and Dadaist manifestos, verging on parody.” It was a “peculiar mix of matters,” “a patchwork of formulas derived from various sources, revealing dependence and confusion … of the authors regarding the plethora of avant-garde manifestos published in recent years” (Lam, Polska awangarda poetycka, 164–6; see also the modification of Lam’s claim in remarks by Andrzej K. Waśkiewicz in “ ‘Irrealna gwiazda.’ O poezji Anatola Sterna,” Pamiętnik Literacki 4 [1979], 168–9). Second, Jarosiński claims that Gga contains “echoes of Dadaism, both in the message and in the authors’ strategy. It was a non-methodical Dadaism, unlike that of Tzara and his friends, less bold and turning everything into joke yet undermining certain fundamental and deeply rooted ideas about art prevailing in artistic consciousness. Still, this manifesto also emphasized ideas of clearly Futurist character: ‘words have weight, sound, colour, visual aspect, and they occupy their place in space. These are the decisive aspects of words’ ” (Zbigniew Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” in Antologia polskiego futuryzmu, xl-xli). See also Helena Zaworska, “Futurystyczne koncepcje sztuki dla mas,” Pamiętnik Literacki 3 (1967), 81; Józef Heistein, Le futurisme et les avant-gardes en littérature. L’apport de la Pologne, Warszawa 1979, 13–14; Andrzej K. Waśkiewicz, “Czasopisma i publikacje zbiorowe polskich futurystów,” Pamiętnik Literacki 1 (1983), 42–3. 40 Cf. sections “Dada-onomatopoeia?” and “Ludic stories and images” in this chapter (pp. 278–302, 363–392). For Author use only 232 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Artistic primitivism was often understood as a reference to whatever precedes civilization, appears anti-intellectual41 and sometimes feels exotic (cf. Stern’s “papuas głośno rżący bosy” [a barefoot Papuan chuckling loudly])42 or vulgar (the mouth being called “morda, pysk, albo ryj” [gob, trap, or chops]43 according to the young poets’ manifesto). Everything simple and far from high culture would be cheerful, healthy and invite laughter, making the soul “put on weigh” and “grow thick, strong calves.”44 Playing, joking and sometimes even revelling in absurd obscurity were all part of a perverse programme meant to demonstrate that the time has come to employ modes of expression that are different from the ones used in the past, while artists can finally shed the burden of patriotic and prophetic duties. Shocking readers with both content and typography, Jasieński proclaims: Sztuka muśi być ńespodźaną, wszehpszeńikającą i z nug walącą. Człowiek wspułczesny przestał śę już oddawna wzruszać i spodźewać. Kodeksy prawne unormowały i poklasyfikowały raz na zawsze wszystkie ńespodźanki. Żyće, kture tem rużni śę od nowoczesnej maszyny, że dopuszcza bajeczne ńepszewidźalności, coraz mńej poczyna śę od ńej rużnić. … Żyće stało śę w swojej logice upiorne i ńelogiczne. [Art must be surprising, all-penetrating and knock one to the ground. Contemporary people have long lost the ability to be moved and to expect things. Legal codices have normalized and classified all surprises once and for all. A life that differs from the modern machine insofar as it allows us to be surprised becomes less and less distinguishable from that machine. … In its logic, life has become dreadful and illogical.] My, futuryści, hcemy wskazać wam furtkę z tego, ghetta logiczności. Człowiek pszestał śę ćeszyć, pońeważ pszestał śę spodźewać. Jedyńe żyće, pojęte jako balet możliwości i ńespodźanek może mu jego radość powrucić. W diabelskim kole żeczy, kture śę same pszez śę rozumieją, zrozumieliśmy, że nic śę pszez śę ńe rozumie i że poza tą jedną logiką istńeje jeszcze całe może ńelogiczności, z kturej każda może twożyć swoją odrębną logikę, gdźe A + B = F, a 2 × 2 daje 777. Potop cudownośći i ńespodźanek. Nonsensy tańczące po ulicah. Sztuka – tłumem.45 41 See Stern, Wat, “Prymitywiści,” 6. See also Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 53–6; Stefan Żeromski, Snobizm i postęp, Warszawa 1923, 86–9. 42 Quotation from Stern’s poem “Pojedynek na plaży” from the volume Futuryzje (Stern, Wz 38). 43 Stern, Wat, “Prymitywiści,” 6. 44 Stern, Wat, “Prymitywiści,” 3. 45 Bruno Jasieński (Jaśeński), “Do narodu polskiego. Mańifest w sprawie natych­ miastowej futuryzacji życia,” in Jednodńuwka futurystuw. Mańifesty futuryzmu For Author use only The Dada controversy 233 [We, the Futurists, wish to indicate a way out from this ghetto of logic. People lost the ability to enjoy because they lost all expectations. It is only life understood as a ballet of possibilities and surprises that can bring joy back to them.] In the devilish circle of things that go without saying we have come to understand that nothing goes without saying and that beyond this one logic there is an ocean of illogic that can form its own distinct logics, in which A + B = F, while 2 times 2 is 777.] A flood of miracles and surprises. Nonsense dancing in the streets. Art – a crowd.] “A ballet of possibilities,” an art that is “surprising, all-penetrating” includes both happenings as well as poems that are surprising and semantically non-linear. The structure of texts would often correspond to the scandalous atmosphere surrounding the movement46 which proclaimed that henceforth everything is possible in polskiego, Kraków, June 1921, [pages unnumbered]. (See also Ant. 11–2). Let us compare this text with the declarations of the Dadaists. In the “Dada Manifesto (1918)” we read: “The word Dada symbolizes the most primitive relation to the surrounding reality; with Dadaism a new reality comes into its own. Life appears as a simultaneous whirl of noises, colours and spiritual rhythms, which Dada takes unflinchingly into its art, with all the spectacular screams and fevers of its feisty pragmatic attitude and with all its brutal reality” (https://ghdi.ghi-dc.org/sub_d​ ocum​ent.cfm?docu​ment​_id=4006 [accessed 22 July 2021]). Dadaism tried to remain close to current events, to that which is contemporary and everyday. It would not outline a precise, specific and positive programme. Its funders argued that “[expressionism] strove to something, which was its characteristic feature. Dadaism, on the other hand, does not want anything, it just grows. The spiritual expressionism was a reaction against its time, whereas Dadaism is nothing more than an expression of its time” (“Was wollte der Expressionismus?,” in Dada Almanach. Im Auftrag des Zentralamts der deutschen Dada-Bewegung, ed. R. Huelsenbeck, Berlin 1920, 35. See also Alfred Liede, Dichtung als Spiel. Studien zur Unsinnspoesie an den Grenzen der Sprache, Vol. 1, Berlin 1963, 217). 46 We may recall, after Sterna-Wachowiak, for example “Stern’s ‘public suicide,’ his skirmish with the audience in Zakopane, the staging of Whitman’s funeral, the script for the provocative and scandalous poetry-concert, the naked Aleksander Wat driven in a wheelbarrow by Anatol Stern through the streets of Warsaw on a Sunday” (Sergiusz Sterna-Wachowiak, Miąższ zakazanych owoców. Jankowski – Jasieński – Grędziński, Bydgoszcz 1985, 45). It is thus not without reason that Przyboś concluded: “Polish Futurism was one big joke and in this lies its greatest merit” (qtd. after Jalu Kurek, Mój Kraków, Kraków 1978, 118). Kurek wrote that Futurists were “radical poets of the intelligentsia, who stoked rebellion through their buffoonery as well as cabaret- and circus-lile acts. Futurists were magicians and clowns, their props being mask, garish costume, pose and acting. Towards the end of the War and later, Futurists played the role of jokers, conjurors as well as circus and cabaret performers before the middle-class intelligentsia” (127). See also Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” xlvii and For Author use only 234 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? life and art. Still, not everything was obviously free. (Although in order to discern coherence in Futurist poems it becomes necessary to consider art from a different angle than the one that proved useful in the case of poems written by poets of Young Poland or Skamander, for example.) One of Futurism’s programmatic statements – Jasieński’s “Mańifest w sprawie poezji futurystycznej” [Manifesto of Futurist poetry] – reads: Słowo jest materiałem złożonym. Oprucz treśći dźwiękowej ma jeszcze inną treść, symboliczną, kturą reprezentuje, a kturej ńe tszeba zabijać pod groźbą stwożeńa tszećej sztuki, ktura ńe jest już poezją, a ńe jest jeszcze muzyką (dadaizm). Poezja jest taką kompozycją słuw, aby ńe zabijając tej drugiej konkretnej duszy słowa wydobyć z ńego maximum rezonansu.47 [Word is a complex material. Aside from its sonic content, it also has symbolic meaning, which it represents and which does not have to be obliterated under threat of creating a third kind of art: no longer poetry but not yet music (Dadaism). Poetry is a mode of arranging words in such a way as to avoid killing the second, concrete soul of the word and yet to extract maximum resonance from it.] The question of the asemantic character of Futurist poetry thus appears complex right from the very onset. Jasieński’s avant-garde assumptions can be deemed as a manifestation of creative totalization since the poet would postulate both full exploitation of the words’ sonic qualities and careful preservation of the semantic soul of the word. This part of the book presents those textual events in which the reconciliation of semantics with sound appears particularly audacious. The goal is to verify to what degree this task proved possible to accomplish and to what extent this was the result of adopting the unwritten and perverse formulas drawn from Dadaism. 2. A  carnival of phonemes? This section focuses on compositions that employ sounds freed from words. In such texts many passages appear entirely incomprehensible, i.e. primitivized or anti-intellectual. Their readers may regard them as an unusual carnival of phonemes, unheard of in Polish poetry, or a typographical parade of fonts. Such works depart from universal rules binding the semantic community defined by language, ff; Beata Śniecikowska, “Poetic Experiments in Polish Futurism: Imitative, Eclectic or Original?,” International Yearbook of Futurism Studies, Vol. 2, ed. G. Berghaus, Berlin 2012, 188–92. 47 Bruno Jasieński, “Mańifest w sprawie poezji futurystycznej,” in Jednodńuwka futu­ rystuw; see also Ant. 20. Emphases and font size differences in the original. For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 235 writing and literature. Sounds no longer form recognizable structures based on lexis or syntax. In place of communicative and transparent phrases, poetic lines abound in carnival processions of (at first glance) de-semanticized sounds rebelling against the fundamental principles of any language-based communication. The goal here is to verify if such constructions are an example of literary gibberish, or if they can be shown to operate on the basis of some principles (which does not contradict their carnivalesque character since carnival has its rules too) that can be identified behind the dazzling instrumentation. Analysis covers both Futurist poems and various Dadaist texts. The numerous quotations from Dadaist poems can make the impression that this study of Polish Futurism bases not on works by Wat, Stern, Czyżewski or Młodożeniec, but on ones penned by foreign authors. However, the decision to refer to many Dadaist compositions is grounded in the ambition to display the discussed phenomenon in Polish literature on a possibly broad and undistorted background – a task difficult to achieve by invoking only a narrow selection of texts. On the other hand, the number of Polish Futurist poems embracing the liberation of phonemes is relatively small and these works are quite heterogeneous. Analysed texts are often isolated and unprecedented in Polish poetry. References are also made here to some of the already discussed works by Khlebnikov and Kruchyonykh as well as the echo- and glossolalic structures in texts by Marinetti, seldom invoked in studies of the subject. The various avant-garde experiments, rooted in entirely incompatible inspirations, prove to be surprisingly similar in many places. The eclectic foundation of Polish Futurism enables foregrounding such parallels. Sometimes, however, it turns out that, equally surprisingly, apart from avant-garde contexts we should indicate deeper roots connecting these works to the literary tradition. Analysis may begin with the discussion of relatively uncomplicated techniques that do not spark a lot of scholarly controversy, which can be identified in both the Dadaist heritage and texts by Polish Futurists. The “Dada genes”48 can be discerned in one of the most unusual experiments in Polish avant-garde: Aleksander Wat’s long poem JA z jednej strony i JA z drugiej strony mego mopsożelaznego piecyka [ME from One Side and ME from the Other Side of My Pug Iron Stove]. It reads: Świece iluminują palmowe legendy. Męka i dusza przezwyciężona już. Ukoisz zwisające liście. Jutro, Ju tro o? [Candles illuminate palm legends. Torment and soul already overcome. You will soothe the hanging leaves. Tomorrow, To mor row?] (Wat, Ww 33) Na polarnych jarzących się przestrzeniach miłość niech będzie słabością, którą chcesz wyplenić. Naa N N aaa Na Naaa. 48 Term developed by Pollakówna in Malarstwo polskie, 15. For Author use only 236 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? [In the polar, glowing spaces love shall be a weakness that you wish to weed out. Naa N N aaa Na Naaa.] (Wat, Ww 45) Jezioro z smoły, Trafalgar, czy jakoś inaczej. Przychodzą smutni i opuszczeni i grzeją skostniałe palce. Przy ognisku zarzuconym w olbrzymie mroźne obłędne przestworza. Przychodzą uśmiechają się do siebie i grzeją skostniałe palce. Palce, lce paapa p pa-pa. [A lake of tar, Trafalgar, or something like that. The sad and the abandoned arrive, warm their fingers, numb with cold. At a fire flung in the vast, frosty, staggering expanse. They come and smile at each other, warming their fingers, numb with cold. Fingers, gers, finfi f fi-fi.] (Wat, Ww 37) In the first of the above quotations a word is broken down into sounds (“Jutro, Ju tro o”). In the second, the echolalic “Naa N N aaa” can be considered a specific deformation of the preposition “na” [on], which appears, almost anaphorically, also at the beginning of the sentence that precedes the manipulation of phonemes. In the third quotation, the symbolist image of “the sad and the abandoned” warming themselves by the fire is contrasted with the inarticulate deconstruction of the word “palce” [fingers], achieved “through application of metathesis and reduplication typical of primitive language.”49 A similar method was employed by Kurt Schwitters in “Simultangedicht kaa gee dee” [Simultaneous poem kaa gee dee], in which the word “katedrale” [cathedral] is broken down into distorted pieces: kaa gee dee katedraale draale kaa tee dee kateedraale draale.50 49 Teressa Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna w oczach językoznawcy,” Przegląd Humanistyczny 5 (1979), 11. Venclova writes about Piecyk in the following way: “deforming and tormenting language often undercuts the principles of logic, in result of which words fall apart, as if torn in Dionysian ecstasy. ‘Pam–ię–tać.’ ‘Jutro, Ju tro o?’ ‘Palce, lce paapa p pa-pa.’ Ultimately, language goes into purely sonic pieces, onomatopoeias and weird elements” (Tomas Venclova, Aleksander Wat. Obrazoburca, trans. J. Goślicki, Kraków 1997, 92. See also Krystyna Pietrych, “W chaosie i nicości. O młodzieńczych utworach Aleksandra Wata,” in Pamięć głosów. O twórczości Aleksandra Wata, ed. W. Ligęza, Kraków 1992, 72). 50 Qtd. after DADA total, 162 (the text was also published in the anthology DADA. 113 Gedichte, 139; see the commentary by Stahl in Anti-Kunst und Abstraktion, 380). Only an excerpt from one of the three parallel columns is quoted here. For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 237 In another poem by Schwitters – “Cigarren (elementar)” [Cigars (elementary)]51 – the eponymous word “Cigarren” is also broken down and distorted:52 Cigarren Ci garr ren Ce i ge a err err e en Ce CeI CeIGe CeIGeA CeIGeAErr … Ci garr ren Cigarren (Das letzte Vers wird gesungen).53 Another example of this method is the poem “Pièce fausse” [False piece] by André Breton:54 Du vase en cristal de Bohème Du vase en cris Du vase en cris Du vase en En cristal Du vase en cristal de Bohème Bohème 51 The spelling of “Cigarren” violates German orthography, the proper form being “Zigarren.” The word “elementar” from the title is ambiguous and can mean “elementary,” “elemental,” and “in relation to fundamental matters.” 52 For more on subsequent, further desemanticized, “abstract” and visual configura­ tions in poems by Schwitters see Stahl, Anti-Kunst und Abstraktion, 380–1. 53 Qtd. after DADA total, 165. The last line means: “Cigars (The last line to be sung).” 54 For more on Breton’s involvement with Dadaism and Futurism see e.g.: Berghaus, “Futurism, Dada and Surrealism,” 298–300. For Author use only 238 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Bohème En cristal de Bohème Bohème Bohème Bohème Hème hème oui Bohème Du vase en cristal de Bo Bo Du vase en cristal de Bohème55 What appears surprising is the semantics of segments into which the original phrase is broken down by the Dadaist poet (Breton was still in the pre-surrealist period). The poem features untranslatable wordplay. A fully coherent enunciation (“Du vase en cristal de Bohème” [On a crystal vase from Bohemia])56 dissolves, forming many ambiguous “shards.” The repeated part of the word “cristal” – “cris” – can be treated as a separate word (“cries”). Two different French words are extracted from the word “Bohème:” “Bo Bo” (“boo boo”) and “hème” (a pigment found in blood).57 Although the original sense of the word remains clearest, the echo-like play with sound disturbingly upsets meaning. In the context of described sound- and word-based transformations, the ambiguous title of the poem seems no longer puzzling. The alleged Dada gibberish turns out to be a well-thought-out structure. Paradoxically, Wat’s dismantling of the Polish words “palce” or “jutro” appear much closer to the notion of a simple, primitivizing Dadaism than to some of the actual Dadaist works. One poem that seems relatively closer to Breton’s play with sound and meaning is the already discussed poem by Jasieński “Na rzece.”58 Jarosiński considers it to be an example of poetic decomposition or dismantling of words, which results in the creation of new, simpler forms.59 However, the matter is more complex. The entire poem reads: na rzece rzec ce na cerze mrze pluski na bluzki wizgi w dalekie lekkie dale że poniosło wiosłobryzgi o trafy tarów żyrafy raf ren cerę chore o ręce 55 Qtd. after Dada. Réimpression intégrale et dossier critique de la revue publiée de 1917 à 1922 par Tristan Tzara, Vol. 1: Réimpression de la revue, ed. M. Sanouillet, Nice [undated], 113. Reprinted qtd. after Dadaphone 7 (1920), 3. 56 The word “Bohème” also means “artistic bohemia.” 57 Consultation: Piotr Olkusz. 58 Cf. Introduction, 32 ff. 59 See Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” cii. For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 239 na stawie ta wie na pawie staw o trące tren terence na fale fal len na leny lin nieczułem czołem czułem od doli dolin do Lido lin zaniosło wiosła mułem (Jas., Umps 40–41) Indeed, what we encounter here is an ingenuous decomposition of the word: “rzec ce” is a distorted, fragmented version of “rzece,” while “cerze” is an echo-like, inverted reprise of syllables forming the word “rzece.” Similar efforts can be identified in many other lines from this poem, e.g. in the juggling of word parts and phrase segments: “dalekie” [remote], “na fale” [on waves], “od doli dolin” [from fate of valleys]. Jarosiński’s interpretation (he argues that the first stanza involves “poetic play with words that are linked to a single theme, or a precise, onomatopoeic record of river sounds”60) seems reconcilable with the aforementioned argu­ mentation developed by Balcerzan:61 the decomposition of words does not entail complete negation of meaning, just like in the quoted poem by Breton. Despite certain similarities of meaning- and sound-based play, the Polish poem clearly differs from “Pièce fausse,” which appears relatively uncomplicated from this perspective. Balcerzan argues that Jasieński “never relinquished the communicative function. The ‘musical’ and persistently orchestrated poem ‘Na rzece’ carries a clear message and can be translated into everyday language.”62 The scholar did expli­ cate the poem’s first stanza63 but a detailed rendering of the entire piece would be far more problematic. Jasieński’s text is an example of sound-play that does not entirely abandon a semantic outline (not the “communicative function” as Balcerzan claims). The piece can be reconstructed as a sensory (hearing-based) poetic account of a river cruise and it seems that the only motivation behind certain phrases is rooted in instrumentation and phonic development. The poem makes the impression of a ludic game (due to the aforementioned decomposition of words and the comic, paronymic phrase “żyrafy raf” [reef giraffes]) that sounds more solemn in the parts utlising words “chore” [sick] and “tren” [threnody]. “Na rzece” constitutes a poetic phonic variation situated “on the outskirts” of situationbased lyricism due to its echo-like repetition of sounds (e.g. in the line “od doli dolin do Lido lin” [from fate of vallyes to ropes of Lido], in which the segment “doli” is repeated four times). Breton’s text lacks any clear description or story, although the latter term does not seem entirely applicable in the context of “Pièce fausse.” The poem by Jasieński demonstrates certain sound- and meaning-based affinities among experiments by 60 61 62 63 Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” cii. See Introduction, 32 ff. Balcerzan, “Wstęp,” Jas., Umps lxvi. Cf. Introduction, 33. For Author use only 240 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? various writers, but “Na rzece” cannot be classified as a mirohład that negates the fundamentals of communication and is full of “carnivalesque” sounds – it is rather a much clearer namopanik.64 Breton’s poem seems much closer to the former. Let us return to the decomposition of words. The ludic dismantling of lexical items was certainly not invented by the avant-garde. Such wordplay would rarely make its way into high literature65 but this does not mean it were entirely absent from it. In one humoristic prose piece from the period of Young Poland – “Syrena Podhalańska” [Podhale siren] by Adolf Nowaczyński – we read: “moja biedna, opuszczona Syrenko, Syreniusiu, Reniusiu. Usiu, Reniu! Niu! Rusiu! Siu!” [my poor, lost Siren, little Siren, Ren. En, Ren! Sir! Sen! Little sen!].66 This confirms that the roots of certain avant-garde ideas can be actually traced in the literary tradition.67 However, it was only towards the end of the nineteenth century and at the beginning of the twentieth that such modes of playing with words and sounds finally surfaced. After all, it was a time when the awareness of the materiality of words increased significantly.68 Studying the dadaization of Polish Futurism requires that we recall another passage from Piecyk: a partially echolalic and glossolalic record of an entirely antiintellectual experience recorded in a way far removed from traditional aesthetics: Tylko fantasmagorje księżyców budziły mnie z odrętwienia: marszcząc i kurcząc niemożliwie twarz w popielatej poświecie, schyloną z lewej strony i podnosząc prawe ramię i prawy paluszek; ot tak, i lewy paluszek nieco niżej i zginając prawe kolano: ot tak! drepczę i kwiczę: tim tiu tju tua tm tru tia tiam tiamtiom tium tiu tium tium. [Only phantasmagorias of moons would wake me from numbness: frowning and contorting my face impossibly in the grey glow, bent to the left, lifting my right arm and right 64 I refer here to the classification developed in section two of Chapter Two. Further considerations consistently use the terms mirohład, namopanik and słopiewnia in this sense. 65 Decomposition of words or echoing repetitions of certain sounds (usually the last one in the word) is also a frequent device in carols and pastorals (cf. fn. 78). 66 Adolf Nowaczyński, “Syrena Podhalańska (Ramota),” in Małpie zwierciadło. Wybór pism satyrycznych, Vol. 1: 1897–1904, Kraków 1974, 210. 67 See Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Od potworów do znaków pustych. Z dziejów gro­ teski: Młoda Polska i Dwudziestolecie Międzywojenne,” in Pre-teksty i teksty, Warszawa 1991, 102–58. Less surprisingly, similar devices are also used in later texts. Furthermore, fragmentation of words is a common feature in poems by Białoszewski (see section two in the Conclusion) and informs a conceit developed by Gałczyński: “A zdaje się, że chodzi o Pu / a zdaje się, że chodzi o Pu / a zdaje się, że chodzi o Pu / der” (Konstanty Ildefons Gałczyński, “Okulary szydercy;” qtd. after Stefania Skwarczyńska, Wstęp do nauki o literaturze, Vol. 2, part 4: Tworzywo językowe dzieła literackiego, Warszawa 1954, 160). 68 See Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Modernizm w literaturze polskiej XX wieku (rekone­ sans),” Teksty Drugie 4 (2002), 13, 25 ff. For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 241 finger; just like that and the left finger just below and bending my right knee: just like that! I am mincing around, squealing: tim tiu tju tua tm tru tia tiam tiamtiom tium tiu tium tium.] (Wat, Ww 9) This passage can be compared with numerous Dadaist pieces that feature echolalic, glossolalic and onomatopoeic passages, e.g. the poem “Crayon bleu” [Blue crayon] by Pierre Albert-Birot:69 CRAYON BLEU Poème à trois voix simultanées il fait beau dans mon cœur pan-pan-pan pan-pan-pan-pan ————————— cinémademapenséequejetourneenpleinair krii krrii merci bonsoir des forêts des forêts des forêts Atchou je lui dirai des monts des mers des villes pron-pron-pron drrrrr jean viens ici … des mondes va toc-toc toc-toc tu dors des soleils va zzzzzzzzzzz — — — — — — —70 69 An artist associated with Italian Futurism, cubism and Dadaism. See Berghaus, “Futurism, Dada and Surrealism,” 291, 295–296; Grzegorz Gazda, Słownik europejskich kierunków i grup literackich XX wieku, Warszawa 2000, 235, 323. 70 Qtd. after Dada. Réimpression intégrale, 60. Reprinted qtd. after Dada 3 (1918), 8; emphasis added. English translation after the Polish rendering by B. Ś. (consultations: M. Hasiuk and P. Olkusz): “BLUE PENCIL / Simultaenous poem in For Author use only 242 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? The poem’s many structures and freedom from the shackles of logic and syntax (e.g. “pan-pan-pan,” “krrii krii,” “pron-pron-pron,” “zzzzz”) seem related to the inarticulate “squealing” from Piecyk (“tim tiu tju tua tm tru tia tiam tiamtiom”). The non-onomatopoeic and non-echolalic passages from both pieces are in turn characterized by semantic ambiguity, oneiric nature and lack of clarity. In this case, the efforts of both authors are clearly related. No discussion of unusual sound patterns in Polish Futurist would be complete without Pastorałki [Dramatized Christmas carols] by Tytus Czyżewski, which are often regarded as Dadaist.71 One poem from this book, “Kolęda” [Carol], contains echolalic and glossolalic constructions that resist simple identification: Ho la o la pastyrze łode pola du dy u dy pastyrze łode budy idźcie do stayenki do świentéj Panienki i Grzegórz karbowy pisarz prowentowy [Ho la oh la shepherds from the field doo dy oo dy shepherds from the shed go to the stable to the Holy Virgin and you warden Greg manor clerk hu hu u hu bieżajcie co duchu ekonom kulawy wstańcie wszyscy z ławy i ty Józef spyrka złaźże z tego wyrka od miodu i strawy ty Franek kaprawy … przylecieli ptacy cip cip cip cy a cy hoo hoo oo hoo come as quickly as you can steward lame all of you get up from the bench and you fat Joseph get up from this bed leave mead and food Frank with rheumy eyes … birds came flying chick chick chick cy a cy three voices / The weather is nice in my heart / pan-pan-pan pan-pan-pan-pan / — — — — — — — — — / cinemaofmythoughtsfilmedoutdoors / krii krrii / thank you good evening / forests forests forests / Atishoo / I will tell him / Mountains seas cities / pron-pron-pron drrrrr / Jean come here / … / worlds walks / knock-knock knock-knock / you sleep / sun’s walks / zzzzzzzzzzz / — — — — — — — — —.” In this poem, “pan-pan-pan” seems to be onomatopoeic and echolalic, but in French the word “pan” also means “tail,” “tie,” “wall” and “side.” The phrase “krii krrii” can be linked with the French onomatopoeic word “cri” [shout]. 71 See for example the remarks by Janusz Degler in Witkiewicz, “O skutkach dzia­ łalności,” 554; Joanna Pollakówna, “Tytus Czyżewski – formista,” in Z zagadnień plastyki polskiej w latach 1918–1939, ed. J. Starzyński, Wrocław 1963, 266; Dobrochna Ratajczak, “Próby dramatyczne Tytusa Czyżewskiego,” Dialog 2 (1968), 76. For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? pastyrze bekayą na skrzypeczkach grayą a Kajtek na drumli a – u Burek skumli tiu – li u – li nie bec przy matuli … wchodzą trzej królowie w koronach na głowie … e mu e mu gwarzą po swoyemu li li li li i li wszyscy się dziwili a Dzieciątko kwili … u by u by mu by poklękały buby tiu li tiu li u li uśniyże matuli (Czyż., Pipd 176–80)72 243 shepherds burp play their fiddle and Kajtek plays Jew’s harp a – oo Barry whines tyu – lee oo – lee do not blubber by your mommy … the three kings enter with crowns on their heads … e moo e moo they natter their own way lee lee lee lee ee lee everyone was marveled and the Baby whimpers. … oo by oo by moo by kneeled crones tyu lee tyu lee oo lee fall asleep by your mommy] As Kazimierz Wyka notes in his account of this poem, “Dada wails and latemediaeval tenderness are not far apart in this piece.”73 The question of “latemediaeval tenderness” does not raise concerns. “Kolęda” is an intonation- and syntaxbased poem with full grammatical rhymes. Archaic stylization is additionally underlined (rather mechanically) by typography (“stayence” [stable], “bekayą” [burp], “grayą” [play])74 and the use of words from local dialect, which by the twentieth century were obsolete archaisms (“drumla” [Jew’s harp]).75 However, the piece by Czyżewski has 72 Just like Baluch (Czyż., Pipd) I take into account the 1925 version of Pastorałki, which differs slightly from the one in Tytus Czyżewski’s Zielone oko. Poezje formistyczne. Elektryczne wizje, Kraków 1920, 21–3, in which he renders proper onomatopoeias in italics but abandons this in the later edition. According to the principles assumed here (cf. Introduction, 51) I respect changes made by authors before 1926. 73 Kazimierz Wyka, “ ‘Pastorałki’ Czyżewskiego,” in Rzecz wyobraźni, Warszawa 1977, 25. See also Grzegorz Gazda, “Funkcja artystyczna pastorałek w twórczości Tytusa Czyżewskiego i Jerzego Harasymowicza,” in Literatura i metodologia, ed. J. Trzynadlowski, Wrocław 1970, 88. 74 Distortion of visual conventions defamiliarizes the text, emphasizing (or feigning, as in “pastyrze bekayą”) phonic closeness. For further remarks on archaisms and spelling see Gazda, “Funkcja artystyczna pastorałek,” 87. 75 See the commentary by Alicja Baluch in “Przypisy,” Czyż., Pipd 178. One certainly needs to remember that folk songs have preserved many archaic structures and lexemes (see e.g.: Stanisław Czernik, Poezja chłopów polskich, Warszawa 1951, 37). For Author use only 244 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? no ambition to imitate a real mediaeval holy hymn. Apart from the aforementioned “serious” elements of stylization, the poem also contains clearly humorous phrases representative of a different register than that of the archaic sacred. Colloquial epithets describing the shepherd boys (“kulawy” [lame], “kaprawy” [with rheumy eyes], “spyrka” [fat – resembling pork fat]) and the situation when they learn about the birth of Jesus (resting on “wyrko” [kip], consuming “miód i strawy” [mead and food]) are certainly ludic but this naturally does not determine the poem’s Dadaist character. We should refer at this point to genological findings. The fundamental doubt regarding Wyka’s claim about the mediaeval character of the text is connected with its genre. Czyżewski’s text is a realistic yet slightly bawdy pastoral – a form that crystalized as late as in the seventeenth century.76 Thus, “Kolęda” is not con­ sistently stylized as a mediaeval piece, while its “ludic” character can be related not so much to Dadaism but to the old formula of a dramatized Christmas carol.77 The question of Dadaism signalled by Wyka turns out to be more complex. It seems that in Czyżewski’s poems Dadaist tendencies manifest only to a slight degree. As in the glossolalic speech of three kings (“e mu e mu”) or the echolalic and glossolalic (perhaps onomatopoeic) configurations likes “tiu li tiu li u li,” freed sounds are not regulated by any rules. Echolalic and glossolalic configurations are classic determinants of folk songs, which are naturally found also in popular folk carols and pastorals.78 However, in order to conduct a fuller analysis, it becomes paramount to refer to Dadaist pieces. 76 The appearance of pastorals was connected with the activity of the Jesuits (around mid-sixteenth century in Italy and since 1573 in Poland). Dramatized shepherd songs quickly spread among the people. Moreover, their structures would often draw on patterns from folk songs and dances. Since the eighteenth or nineteenth century this form was primarily connected with the countryside and urban folklore (see Jan Okoń, “Wstęp,” in Staropolskie pastorałki dramatyczne. Antologia, Wrocław 1989, xvi-xxvii, lxx-lxxi; Jerzy Bartmiński, “Wstęp,” in Polskie kolędy ludowe, ed. J. Bartmiński, Kraków 2002, 23–5; Maria Bokszczanin, “Kantyczka Chybińskiego. Z tradycji biblijnych i literackich kolędy barokowej,” in Literatura – komparatystyka – folklor. Księga poświęcona Julianowi Krzyżanowskiemu, Warszawa 1968, 732–9). 77 See Pastorałki i kolendy w czasie świąt Bożego Narodzenia w domach śpiewane, Częstochowa 1898, 3–6, 190–2, 199–201. 78 Consider for example the following passages from a Christmas folk song: “Gdy się dziś Bóg z Panny rodzi, / Weselić się wszystkim godzi, – Oj godzi. / Uderz czołem Panu, nu nu, nu nu, / Przed tańcem nuże nu, nu nu, nu nu, Mazurku. / Drużyna w sam czas przybyła, / Krzyknął Mazur aby była, – muzyka. / Pasterze zagrali, li li, li li, / Razem zaśpiewali, li li, li li, / Wesoło. Mazur po szopie wywija, / … / Pląsa, pełni i wypija, – Za zdrowie. / Wiwat kompanija, ja ja, ja ja, / Jezus i Maryja, ja ja, ja ja, / Hej wiwat” [When God is born from Virgin, / Everyone should rejoice, oh they should. / Fall before the Lord, noo noo, noo noo, / Before dancing, come on, noo, noo, noo, noo, my Mazurka. / Everyone’s right on time, / The Mazurian hailed to start, – the music. / Shepherds played, lee lee, lee lee, / Together they For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 245 Illustration 6. Tadeusz Makowski, woodcut illustration in Pastorałki by Tytus Czyżewski, Polskie Towarzystwo Przyjaciół Książki, Paris 1925, 13. Consider one passage from a Dadaist text that features a Christmas theme – “Ein Krippenspiel” [Nativity play] co-written by Hugo Ball and other authors: I. Stille Nacht. Der Wind: Ton der heiligen nacht: Die Hirten: … f f f f f f f f fff f ffff t t hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm He hollah, he hollah, he hollah. Esel: Öchslein: ia, ia, ia, ia, ia, ia, ia, ia, ia, ia, ia, ia, ia muh muh muh muh muhm muh muh muh muh muh muh muh (Stampfen, Strohgeräusch, Kettenrasseln, Stoβen, Käuen) bäh, bäh, bäh, bäh, bäh, bäh, bäh, bäh, II. Der Stall. Schaf: … sang, lee lee, lee lee, / Merrily. The Mazurian is whirring across the shed, / … / shaking a leg and raising toasts, – Cheers. / To our guests, ya ya, ya ya, / Jesus and Mary, ya ya, ya ya, / Hej, rejoice] (excerpt from “Kolenda 65,” qtd. after Pastorałki i kolendy, 184–5; emphasis added; see also 354–5). The question of glossolalic and echolalic structures in folklore is discussed more broadly in Chapter Four, which also contains numerous examples. For Author use only 246 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? IV. Die Verkündigung. Geräusch der Litanei: Tutti: Stilisiertes Lachen: … do da do da do da do da dorum darum dorum do da do, dorum darum, dorum, darum, do da do, do, dooo. Muhen, Iaen, Ketten, Schalmeien, Gebet, Stern, Schaf, Wind, H a ha. haha. haha. haha. haha. haha. haha. haha. V. Die heiligen drei Könige. Der Stern: Die Karawane der drei Könige: Die drei Könige: Zcke zcke ptsch, zcke zcke zcke zcke zcke ptsch! zcke zcke ptsch! ptschptschptschptsch. zcke zcke ptsch ptsch ptsch. Puhrrrrr puhrrrr (Schnauben der Pferde, Trampeln der Kamele). rabata, rabata, bim bam. rabta rabata, bim bam ba, rabata rabata rabta, rabata bim bam. bim bam. bim bam. Glöckchen der Elefanten: Bim bim bim bim bim bim bim bim bim Flöten Trompete: Tataaaaaaaaaaaa! tataaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Schnauben der Pferde: Puhrrrrr, puhrrrrrrrr, puhrrrrrrr. Wiehern der Pferde: Wihihihihih, Wihihihihi, Wihihihihih. Kacken der Kamele: Klatschen der Hände mit sehr hohler Fläche. Der Stern: Zcke zcke zcke ptsch! VI. Ankunft am Stalle. … Josef: Parlez-vous francais, messieurs? Parlez-vous francais, messieurs? Die heiligen drei Könige: Ah, eh, ih, ohm, uh ah, eh ih, oh, uh! aih, auhh, euhhh, eh ih, oh uhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!79 79 Qtd. after DADA total, 82–3. English translation after the Polish rendering by B. Ś. (consultation: K. Kupczyńska): “I. Silent night. / Wind: f f f f f f f f f f f t t / The sound of holy night: hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm / Shepherds: Hey ho, hey ho, hey ho. … / II. Stables. / Donkey: hee haw hee haw hee haw hee haw hee haw hee haw / Calf: moo moo moo moo moom moo moo moo moo moo moo moo / (hoofbeat, rustle of straw, clanging of chains, scramble, puff-chew) / Sheep: baa baa baa baa baa baa baa baa … / IV. Annunciation / The hum of litany: do da do da do da do da dorum darum dorum do da do, dorum darum, dorum, darum, do da do, do, dooo. / Tutti: mooing, braying, chains, pipe playing, prayer, star, sheep, wind / Stylized laughter: H a ha. haha. haha. haha. haha. haha. haha. haha. / … / V. Three holy kings. / Star: Tsk Tsk ptsh, tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk ptsh! tsk tsk ptsh! ptshptshptshptsh. tsk tsk ptsh ptsh ptsh. / Caravan of the three kings: Purrrrr purrrrr (snorting of horses, stomping of camels). / Three kings: rabata, For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 247 Just like the passage from Pastorałki quoted earlier, Ball’s text features semantically opaque constructions based on echo- and glossolalia. However, the Dadaist composition contains incomparably more of them. In Czyżewski’s book, unclear clusters of sounds are interwoven with Polish fragments, creating a coherent structure harmonized by rhythm and semantics (in many cases, passages in Polish explain glossolalias – “e mu e mu / gwarzą po swoyemu” [e moo e moo / they natter their own way]). Asemantic juxtapositions of sounds do not distort the language structure of the pastoral80 – a folk-inspired genre that is well established in Polish culture. In the Dadaist text, on the other hand, exclamations, onomatopoeias and glossolalias comprise a “bruitist”81 composition on whose backdrop float isolated words and merely one sentence, which is grammatically correct yet orthographically distorted (the surprising yet absurd question “Parlez-vous francais, messieurs?” asked by St. Joseph).82 The text appears to be a heterogeneous and cacophonic composition, iconoclastic in terms of meaning (defecating camels, making a joke out of literary and religious conventions – the glossolalic, asemantic litany “do da do da do da do da dorum”). By assuming a different perspective, one less constrained by tradition, the piece can be nevertheless regarded as coherent, consistent and rounded.83 It is an excellent, sensory sound-image of a nativity play. The various interweaving, clearly distinguished sequences of sounds offer equivalents to the appearance of figures, animals and phenomena. Onomatopoeias can be conventional (e.g. “bee bee bee”), but sometimes they constitute specific sound concepts (e.g. “ccke ccke” as the flashing of stars). Purely physical or physiological phenomena do not have to be iconoclastic (it is a matter of interpretation), while 80 81 82 83 rabata, bim bam. rabta rabata, bim bam ba, rabata rabata rabta, rabata bim bam. bim bam. bim bam. / Elephant bell: Bim bim bim bim bim bim bim bim bim / Flutes / Trumpet: Tataaaaaaaaa! tataaaaaaaaaaa! / Horses snorting: Purrrrr purrrrrrrr, purrrrrrrr. / Horses neighing: Ihahahahaha, Ihahahaha, Ihahahahaha. / Defecating of camels: the dull sound of clapping / Star: Tsk tsk tsk ptsh! / VI. Arrival at the stables. / … / Joseph: Parlez-vous francais, messieurs? Parlez-vous francais, messieurs? / Three holy kings: Ah, eh, ih, ohm, uh ah, eh ih, oh, uh! aih, auhh, euhhh, eh ih, oh uhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” In German there is no word “Käuen.” It may be interpreted as a contamination of two lexemes: kauen [to chew] and keuchen [to puff], hence the compound neologism “puff-chew,” which nevertheless does not render the phonic play present in the original. See the carols and pastorals containing proper onomatopoeias and glossolalias in Pastorałki i kolendy, 184–8, 194, 354–5. Bruitistisch is the subtitle of Ball’s poem. See Hans Kreitler, “The Psychology of Dadaism / Die Psychologie des Dadaismus / La psychologie du Dadaïsme,” in Dada. 113 Gedichte, 74–81. This dimension of “Krippenspiel” was indicated to me by Professor Aleksandra Okopień-Sławińska. See also Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Spójność tekstu (literackiego) jest konwencją,” in Teoretycznoliterackie tematy i problemy, ed. J. Sławiński, Wrocław 1986, 149–174. For Author use only 248 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? the comically nonsensical dialogue between Joseph and the Three Magi can be read as an orchestrated story about the difficulties of communicating in language and attempts to overcome them. Naturally, this composition requires an understandable narrative that demonstrates the indispensable character of language for ordering such a far-reaching experimental phonic universe. Dadaist methods did not include working with structures based on genre conventions.84 Sounds would be juxtaposed in an effort to achieve euphony or cacophony, creating paronomasias from phonically related quasi-words that would sometimes imitate lexemes from exotic, primitive languages. However, these efforts would have little to do with any literary tradition and would often entirely negate any literary canons. “Krippenspiel” engages in an unusually perverse play with tradition, almost denying it (despite the appearance of figures typical of nativity plays). In the case of Czyżewski, on the other hand, instrumentation becomes involved in a slightly modified yet highly clear structure of linguistic, historical and literary (genre-related) character. The Polish poem revives and adapts an authentic literary and ritual convention, not limiting itself to ludic play with words, syllables and phonemes freed from the rules of grammar and poetics. The primitivist work accused of Dadaization turns out to be a highly coherent stylization that imitates a folk piece. “Pastorałka” by Czyżewski can be also fruitfully compared with the poetry of Young Poland. In poems from the turn of the century one important means of creating “musicality” was the introduction of words associated with various musical meanings. Words of this type also appear in “Kolęda,” although ones used by Czyżewski are common, blunt, simple (and sometimes dialectal): “bekać” [to burp], “beczeć” [to blubber] and “skumleć” [to whine]. These verbs are associated with onomatopoeias proper not found in high poetry from the turn of the centuries. The Futurist thus created a work whose construction is close to folk literature, without choosing either the echolalic manner of Dadaism or the poetic “musicality” and salon-like excessive idealization of peasantry characteristic for Young Poland.85 84 One can only ponder over the most general “genre” differences between Dadaist works, e.g. Ball’s “priestly” incantations (cf. section two in Chapter Two) and the poem “Etyomons” by Adon Lacroix (quoted further in section two in Chapter Three), which concludes with the confession “I love you” (an erotic?). Also, there are rare metatextual genological signals, often conflicting with the piece’s structure, e.g. the title “Aufruf! (ein Epos)” [Appeal! An epic] of a heterogeneous, absurd composition by Schwitters. On the other hand, certain Dadaist propositions (e.g. simultaneous and statistical poems) can be considered from a genological perspective. See Zaworska, O nową sztukę, 71. 85 Cf. Chapter One. Proof that Czyżewski’s text has been popular is contained in a passage from Traktat poetycki by Czesław Miłosz, who quotes glossolalic excerpts from Pastorałki, introducing them as follows: “Mickiewicz is too difficult for us. / Ours is not a lordly or a Jewish knowledge. / We worked with a plough, with For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 249 Considerations of the avant-garde carnival of sounds may be supplemented with a discussion of one prominent text in the history of Polish Futurism: the already cited “Moskwa” by Stanislaw Młodożeniec.86 Thoroughly alliterative, the piece develops around several differently segmented sounds: “t,” “u,” “a,” and “m.” At first, readers can find themselves entirely disoriented because sounds and words appear to be let loose and chaotically spread on the page. One may not be entirely sure whether this is an asemantic sound game or a puzzle with secret meanings hidden within the composition. The poem seems like an asyntactic mass of jumbled sentences, mirohład-like gibberish, or an instance of linguistic primitivism (one can even hear and see “tam-tams” in this piece!), at the same time remaining a long onomatopoeia.87 It brings associations with postulates formulated by Marinetti (rejecting syntax, making onomatopoeia the staple of poetic language and favouring the visual dimension)88 and with the sound experiments of the Dadaists. There are Dadaist poems that are very close to the sonically homogenous structure of Młodożeniec’s “Moskwa” [Moscow]89 (repetition of almost identical phonic elements, e.g. single words or sounds). Take for example the poems “Gedicht 63” [Poem 63] by Schwitters and “Persiennes” [Blinds] by Aragon:90 Wand Wand WAND WAND WAND WAND WAND WAND WAND WAND WAND WAND WAND wände wände Wände 86 87 88 89 90 a harrow. / On feast days we heard another music.” Quotations from Czyżewski end with the words: “So many things have passed, so many things. / And while no work accomplished helps us, / Tytus Czyżewski returns with his Christmas carol. / The double bass used to boom, so he booms.” (Czesław Miłosz, A Treatise on Poetry, in New and Collected Poems: 1931–2001, New York 2001, 138–9). This poem was included in Cahiers Dada Surréalisme as a sample “Dadaizing” text from the circle of Polish Futurism (“Un dadaïsme polonais?,” 116–7). I quote the poem on p. 38 (for commentary see p. 38 ff). For more on the onomatopoeic qualities of “Moskwa,” see Janusz Sławiński, “Poezje Młodożeńca,” Twórczość 5 (1959), 123–4; Janusz Sławiński, Koncepcja języka poetyckiego Awangardy Krakówskiej, ed. W. Bolecki, Kraków 1998, 87. The visual aspect defamiliarizes the text, de-automatizing its reception, at the same time suggesting certain meanings and a specific mode of sonic realization. Qtd. in Introduction, p. 38. See also the whole-page sound-and-picture construction by Tzara “[brüllt]” [roars] in Dada. 113 Gedichte, 178. For Author use only 250 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? WÄNDE WÄNDE WÄNDE WÄNDE WÄNDE WÄNDE WÄNDE WAND WAND WAND WAND WAND WAND WAND wand wand wand wand wand wand — wand91 PERSIENNES Persienne? Persienne Persienne Persienne Persienne persienne persienne persienne persienne persienne persienne persienne persienne persienne persienne persienne persienne persienne persienne Persienne persienne persienne persienne Persienne?92 Schwitters’s monotonous text, which features only two words interwoven in polyptotonic manner without forming a clear semantic structure (“wand” [wall] and “wände” [walls]) and Aragon’s poem, constructed on the basis of a similar principle yet closer to concrete poetry (by visually rendering the eponymous blinds), clearly differ from the piece by Młodożeniec despite some striking sonic similarities. The Polish poet plays a multi-faceted game with readers. The carnivalesque jumble of words, or the chaotic race of phonemes can be interpreted as a coherent whole that is harmonious in terms of meaning and syntax.93 The poem features correct, meaningful words (Polish pronouns and conjunctions with inflectional affixes). At first, the syntax appears to be entirely rejected but it resurfaces in structures like “tu-m” [I am here] and “tam-m” [I am there]. The poem poses a series of syntactically correct questions (Am I here? Am I there?) and provides simple answers, with majuscule marking elements that can be regarded as 91 Qtd. after Scheffer 1921 text Anfänge experimenteller Literatur, 220. In the book by Webster, the quoted work by Schwitters begins with the line “Fünf Vier Drei Zwei Eins” [Five Four Three Two One]. See Michael Webster, Reading Visual Poetry after Futurism: Marinetti, Apollinaire, Schwitters, Cummings, New York 1995, fig. 26 in the addendum (pages unnumbered); see also the commentary by Stahl, Anti-Kunst und Abstraktion, 381. 92 Qtd. after Hugnet, L’aventure Dada, 130. 93 Cf. the analysis of “Moskwa” in Introduction, 37 ff. For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 251 particularly expressive and full of tension.94 Thus, the freedom of phonemes turns out to be illusory.95 “Moskwa” is certainly neither an asemantic play with sound nor an orthodox realization of the idea of parole in libertà since it lacks nouns and verbs, which Marinetti regarded as the fundamental carriers of meaning. Furthermore, the sound structures developed by Młodożeniec cannot be treated as onomatopoeias that are well established in the Polish language, although multiple repetitions of certain sound clusters can be interpreted as an onomatopoeic rendering of noises made by radio, telegraph, Morse code machine or balalaika.96 Alternatively, proper onomatopoeias can be identified semantically on the basis of grammatical structures, but nothing prevents one from regarding these constructions as imitations of sounds. This would create a special situation in which an all-textual onomatopoeic rendering of extralinguistic signs retains syntactic and semantic coherence.97 94 Irzykowski claims that in this text “the author offloads all work onto the imagina­ tion of readers” (Karol Irzykowski, Słoń wśród porcelany (Studia nad nowszą myślą literacką w Polsce), Warszawa 1934, 133). However, the visual composition of the piece makes this work somewhat easier. 95 See Goriély, “L’avant-garde littéraire en Pologne,” 70. 96 See Tomasz Burek, “Sztandar futuryzmu na chłopskim wąkopie albo o poezji Stanisława Młodożeńca,” in Młodoż., Up 18. 97 This onomatopoeic and syntactic game is perfectly illustrated by the French trans­ lation of “Moskwa,” which attempts to reconcile the two textual dimensions (translation by M. Elster qtd. after “Un dadaïsme polonais?,” 116): “MOSCOU // suis ici ou suis là-bas? / là-bas TAM / ici TUM / là-bas TAM tam-tam-tam LÁ- / TUM ici TUM -CI / suis là-bas TAM? là-bas? suis TAM? / TAM-M? TU-M? LÁ? CI? / suis là-bas TAM? si suis là-bas suis donc ici TUM / CI -TUM CI- TUM / et sui là-bas TAM et suis ici TUM / oh – la OLALALA TAM TUM ici et là / donc suis là-bas et suis ici / TUM.” Wellek and Warren postulate a tripartite division of onomatopoeic structures. The first category includes “real imitation of natural sounds … This kind of imitation should be distinguished from artistic effects and the reproduction of natural sounds through speech sounds in the context where words, in themselves entirely deprived of onomatopoeic values, belong to a certain sound schema” (Rene Wellek, Austin Warren, Teoria literatury, ed. M. Żurowski, Warszawa 1976, 209). “Moskwa” by Młodożeniec is one of the rare examples of reconciling the two kinds of onomatopoeia. Moreover, instead of natural sounds it imitates more “technical” ones (telegraph, radio or Morse apparatus). This brings the text closer to Marinetti’s postulates regarding civilization-oriented onomatopoeia (imitating the sound of the city, cars, machines, etc.). However, the typologies developed by the Italian father of Futurism did not take into account the possibility of such sophisticated, grammatically structured play with onomatopoeia. Another Polish Futurist piece that is simultaneously semantic (with the content “served” in a much more straightforward manner) and entirely onomatopoeic is “Marsz” [March] by Jasieński (Jas., Upms 21–3; for analysis see Śniecikowska, “Poetic Experiments in Polish Futurism,” 174–9). Poems of relatively coherent meaning, which are also text-wide onomatopoeias, can be also found in the Dadaist heritage. Arp’s “sekundenzeiger” [second hand] (see Liede, Dichtung als Spiel, 374) is a sequence of single-syllable For Author use only 252 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? “Moskwa” is characterized by a relatively clear and rich semantics. In this case, primitive gibberish turns out to be a well-thought-out composition. What we are dealing with here is an compelling instance of textual mimicry: the poem comes close to asemantic, Dadaist constructions, and feigns Futurist rejection of syntax, but in reality does not constitute a Dadaist homophonic experiment or a Marinettilike instance of “words in freedom.”98 Another poem with a surprising sound structure is Stern’s “phonetic impression”99 – a text that appears to be, at first sight, thoroughly asemantic, referencing the playful vein of Dadaism: “1/2 godźiny na źelonym bżegu” [Half an hour on a green shore]. It is one of the few poems in Polish Futurism to revolutionarily break away from a linear delivery of meaning. Comprised almost entirely of incomprehensible glossolalias (at least at first glance – and also heard first), the poem reads: co to wieś! naprawdę! baba aba pali popo baba abab palimpo alaba laba pali popo aba bab abab palimpo lipo lipopo baa ba popo li aba lipopo po ab palimpo li li!100 words that imitate the ticking of the clock, nevertheless forming a semantically coherent text. Still, this poem is not as homogenous in terms of sound as “Moskwa” by Młodożeniec or “Gedicht 63” by Schwitters. 98 One postulate of the Italian in the text is (quite contrarily) the idea of “onomatopo­ eizing” poetic speech. 99 Term developed in Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 28. 100 Text published in the 1921 one-off issue Nuż w bżuhu. The poem was not included in any book by Stern. The quoted version is from Nuż w bżuhu. Reprinted in Stern, Wz, although without fully preserving the shape of the original, and also containing glaring errors in glossolalic “words.” English translation of the first three lines: “what is this / countryside! / really!” For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 253 It is not without reason that this poem is described as an exemplary Polish Dadaist work.101 The context of this avant-garde movement constitutes in this case a crucial point of reference. Multiple repetitions of certain sound sequences can be associated with the pre-verbal stage in human development, which fascinated the Dadaists, e.g. the babbling of infants or simple, childlike play with sound102 such as glossolalic enumerations of the same groups of phonemes in changing sequences.103 Interesting conclusions can be also drawn from comparison between Stern’s poem and one text from the Dada Almanach: 101 See Grzegorz Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, Wrocław 1974, 87. 102 According to Baranowska, “Dadaists considered Black art and children’s babbling … to be examples of language untainted by logic and convention; thus, they attempted to imitate them” (Baranowska, “Dadaizm,” 164). Pollakówna argues that in Polish Futurism “references to primeval character and spontaneity were basically a repetition of the programme announced by the Zurich Dadaists, who were fascinated with Black art, which was supposed to be a model of artistic purity and innocence” (Pollakówna, Malarstwo polskie, 15). One expression of Dadaism-inspired, “primitivizing” play was for example the thematizing of geographically remote places like Peru or Tahiti, as well as the use of asemantic glossolalia. 103 One example can be the following passage of “inarticulate speech” (term by Maria Sanchez and Barbara Kirschenblatt-Gimblett), where “we observe only phonological rules, with phonological sequences not forming units that would have grammatical function, or lexemes carrying semantic references” (Roman Jakobson, Linda Waugh, “Magia dźwięków mowy,” trans. M. R. Mayenowa, in Roman Jakobson, W poszukiwaniu istoty języka. Wybór pism, Vol. 1, ed. M. R. Mayenowa, Warszawa 1989, 334): “Inty, ninty tibbety fig / Deema dima doma nig / Howchy powchy domi nowday / Hom tom tout / Olligo bolligo boo / Out goes you” (Maria Sanchez, Barbara Kirschenblatt-Gimblett, “Children’s Traditional Speech Play and Child Language,” in Speech Play, Philadelphia 1976, 92 ff. Qtd. after Jakobson, Waugh, “Magia dźwięków mowy,” 335). Examples of similar enumerations noted in Poland: “ene ene ente cwaj kure gente apu apu bade zude bach;” “edum – dedum – didum – dala / ecum – cecum – cicum – cala / edum – dedum – chołki – połki / idź do szewca – strugać – kołki.;” “trąf – trąf – misia – bela / misia – kasia – kąfa – cela / misia – a – misia – b [e] / misia – kasia – kafa – ce” (qtd. after Jerzy Cieślikowski, Wielka zabawa, Wrocław 1985, 189, 198). Enumerations are also included in the text “Maggi (Rapsod)” by Jerzy Jankowski, who “opened” the history of Polish Futurism (see e.g. Jerzy Jankowski, Rytmy miasta, ed. A. K. Waśkiewicz, Warszawa 1972, 13). Dadaists created similar, sometimes less enumerative (with no clear rhymes) yet more onomatopoeic constructions that could be analogously described in terms of structure. Consider the poem “Katzen und Pfauen” [Cats and peacocks] by Ball: “baubo sbugi ninga gloffa // siwi faffa / sbugi faffa / olofa fafamo / faufo halja finj // sirgi ninga banja sbugi / halja hanja golja biddim // mâ mâ / piaûpa / mjâma / pawapa baungo sbugi / ninga / gloffalor” (qtd. after Hugnet, L’aventure Dada, 138. See also “Wolken, Totenklage, Seepferdchen und Flugfische,” in DADA. 113 Gedichte, 34–6, 38). For Author use only 254 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? MAORI TOTO–VACA ka tangi te kivi kivi ka tangi te moho moho ka tangi te tike ka tangi te tike tike … hihi e haha e pipi e tata e apitia ha ko te here ha ko te here ha ko te timata104 Both poems can be regarded as primitivist, and both employ similar sound devices: alliteration, consonance, assonance and the repetition of quasi-words or their parts. In both cases readers seek words and morphemes they can understand in an attempt to discover the principles of this unknown language. At the same time, it remains crucial what language family the author’s native tongue belongs to and to what readers he addresses his work. Europeans – more precisely speakers of French or German,105 who comprise the majority of the Dadaists’ audience – would 104 Qtd. after Dada Almanach, 51. 105 Avant-garde activities, including literary ones, involved meetings with the public meant to present works more fully. These were not calm poetry evenings, but little spectacles that would sometimes turn into happenings, during which literary works would be presented, often on the background of specially prepared decorations. It seems that only this kind of contact with the public facilitated full reception according to the artists. H. Béhar emphasizes that in the case of Dadaist realizations (he refers to Tzara’s “Première aventure céleste” quoted in fn. 10) direct impact on the audience was more important than the frequently obscure linguistic complications or theoretical aspects. Béhar even discusses the “physical impact” of such presentations (Henri Béhar, “A mots découverts,” Europe 555–6 (1975), 99). Klein and Blaukopf emphasize parallels between “half-musical phonetic poems” (halbmusikalischen Lautgedichten) and vocalization used in jazz compositions, where the key question is not semantics but the vocal realization of a given piece (see Rudolf Klein, Kurt Blaukopf, “Dada and Music / Dada in der Music / Dada et la Musique,” For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 255 find sounds like “tike” or “moho” to be entirely meaningless, carrying perhaps only an indication of exoticism associated with primitive art cherished by Dadaism.106 The Polynesian text published by the Dadaists (assuming that it indeed constitutes a transcription of a Maori song, as suggested by its sound structure, which approximates the phonotactic organization of Polynesian languages)107 does not yield itself to semantic explication in Europe. However, we may trace interesting connotations in Stern’s poem. The homophonic piece (based on repetitions of the consonants “b,” “p,” “l” and the vowels “a,” “o”) combines the cult of the primitive, local folklore and echoes of high culture. Furthermore, it contains clusters of sounds that bring exotic associations: “lipopo” and “lipo” (perhaps echoes of the proper name “Limpopo”). “Quasi-words” like “alab” and “abab” evoke Oriental themes (cf. “Arab” or the Hindu “nabab”). Exoticizing techniques of this kind bring Stern’s text closer to “Toto-Vaca,” but “1/2 godźiny” may appear, after all, more complex and multilayered to Polish or European readers. The poet also juggles the lexeme “baba” [colloquially: woman] (strongly associated with Slavic folklore) and its heavily distorted variants.108 Such connotations are additionally legitimized by the glos­ solalic structure of the poem (a characteristic feature of folk poetry)109 and the use of the word “wieś” [countryside], which constitutes one of the few direct verbal signals that are not distorted through echo-like recurrence of deformed segments. Although Stern’s piece does not feature folk-like parallel structures,110 it clearly heralds its ties with Polish primitivism. Poems by Tzara, Ball, Huelsenbeck or Schwitters contain no references to the local folk cultures of these authors. They only make exotic references or purely fantasize about the language and poetry of so-called primitive cultures.111 we sho­ uld quote another instance of such practices: 106 107 108 109 110 111 in Dada. Monograph of a Movement, 88–97). For a discussion of the specific effect of phonetic poems (“inducing the dada state of mind”) see also Susan Stewart, Nonsense. Aspects of Intertextuality in Folklore and Literature, Baltimore [undated], 92. See Kreitler, “The Psychology of Dadaism,” 74–81. See Alfred F. Majewicz, Języki świata i ich klasyfikowanie, Warszawa 1989, 186. The word “baba” appears relatively often in ludic Futurist texts, probably due to its semantic connotations and sound structure. This word is also frequent in ludic folk pieces. One intriguing and partially “carnivalesque” example is the following specifically echolalic ludic text (representative of the literówka genre [letter-poem] whose compositional basis is internal phonetic rhyme): “a, be, ab – babe złap / e, be, eb – babe w łeb / i, be, ib – daj ji chlib / o, be, ob – babe chop / u, be, ub – babe skub / y, ce, yc – chlib ji zjidz” (qtd. after Cieślikowski, Wielka zabawa, 119). Cf. section one in Chapter Four. Cf. section one in Chapter Four. An interesting example of Dadaist “fantasy projection” regarding so-called primitive poetry is Ball’s famous poem “Karawane” (qtd. after DADA. 113 Gedichte, 37), which combines “incomprehensibility” and perverse play with readers. For Author use only 256 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Zanzibar. o mam re de mi ky wir sind den Wahha entgangen haha die Wawinza werden uns nicht mehr plagen oh oh It is an assembly of sounds that are specifically organized in graphic and sonic terms (through alliteration, deep harmonies and repetition of “words”). They do not form enunciations possible in any language. It is nevertheless possible to reconstruct certain fragmentary semantic patterns (for several interpretations see Eckhard Philipp, Dadaismus, München 1980, 193). We may recognize some morphemes (though without certainty that they are proper to the “language” of this work), e.g. “gross,” “rus” (perhaps connected with the German “Rüssel” [trumpet]; see Philipp, Dadaismus, 193–4). The opening word “jolifanto” can be read as “elephant” (in Ball’s journal the text is titled “Elefantenkarawane;” see Herbert Lehnert, “Nihilismus, Anarchismus, DADA und das Ende der bürglichen Kunst,” in Geschichte der deutschen Literatur vom Jugendstil bis zum Expressionismus, Stuttgart 1996, 1037; see also Leonard Forster, Poetry of Significant Nonsense, Cambridge 1962, 29, fn. 1); “bung” or “ba-umf” can be onomatopoeic, while “tumby” could be semantically related to “tombs.” The poem is a Dadaist mirohład comprising a recognizable visual and intonational form (through verse structure), using identifiable roots. Readers may guess that the poem describes an elephant caravan, but it remains impossible to reconstruct the palimpsest-like story. As it turns out, the text plays a perverse game with readers expecting at least some basic narrative. Unlike in texts like “Zanzibar,” despite certain semantic “hints,” nothing really becomes clear. However, the primitivizing glossolalias are not entirely de-semanticized (as in “Toto-Vaca”) but can be associated with morphemes from European languages, but there is no chance to verify these connotations. The alleged “primeval character” is a mere “cover” for ludic games with sound, image and semantics. For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 257 Mionwu bekommt kein Tuch mehr von uns hy hy und Kiala wird nimmer uns wiedersehen he he.112 The “Zanzibar” text in Tzara’s quasi-translation is clearly dichotomous: primitivizing exclamations, onomatopoeias and echolalias constitute an uncomplicated scaffolding erected over a simple piece expressing supposedly tribal meanings. However, the poem remains far removed from European folklore and does not feature even the slightest indications of it. Returning to Stern’s piece, we may argue that his poem constitutes a specific “Futurist variant of the pastoral theme of ‘calm and merry countryside.’ ”113 However, “1/2 godźiny” not just a 112 “Negerlieder,” trans. T. Tzara, in Dada Almanach, 141 (or in DADA total, 69). English translation after the Polish rendering by B. Śniecikowska and J. Gaszewski: “o mam re de mi ky / we escaped the people Wahha haha / Wawinza they will not torment us any more oh oh / Mionwu will not receive cloth from us any more hy hy / and Kiala will never see us again he he.” This can be compared with the Black song from Stern’s “Romansu Peru” (Gga, 9; emphasis preserved) – a ludic, paronomastic play that does not even pretend to be “original” (despite announcing on the right-hand margin that it is a “song of rowing slaves”): “słońce duże / pali kula / a hoj / szedł murzyn / i okulał. / a hoj hii / pełza łza zła / więdną uszy / wokół głowy / jakby kwiatki” [sun is big / sphere is burning / a hoy / a black man walked / and got a limp / ahoy heee / evil tear is creeping / ears wither / around the head / like flowers]. 113 Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 29. we should recall at this stage one passage from a memoir by the actress Zofia Ordyńska, who recited some of the Futurist poems. Her account brings to attention the variety of ways in which obscure Futurist texts can be understood and “translated:” “Then, [after presenting works by Czyżewski] my Futurist achievement was to perform, for the first time and uniquely, a poem published in Jednodniówka (titled nuż w bżuhu) as a colourful poster in 1921 by the Futurists from Kraków, written phonetically to cause sensation. The poem was titled ‘puł godziny na zielonym bżegu’ and it runs like this: ‘Baaaba laba aba, polimpo lipo, bab abab, tyli lili lili’ and so on for a dozen or so lines, using some quacking and mumbling syllables. It felt more like a secret code than poetry. However, I attempted to look into the soul of the poet who wrote this unique poem and understood it as follows: The green shore is a little meadow with various animals such as cows, horses, frogs and chickens, talking to each other in their language. All it took was to substitute certain sounds made by animals for words, and the poem became understandable even to the dumbest layperson or amateur. So, I practiced this ‘musical accompaniment:’ ‘baaaba, laba’ being the mooing cow (try it yourselves!), ‘polimpo lipo’ – neighing horse, ‘bab, abab’ – barking dog. Besides, there were clucking chickens and croaking frogs. I performed my interpretation at an afternoon literary meeting at the Drobner’s café. First I performed the poem in original form, which was naturally not understood by anyone and then I ‘sang’ my interpretation. The whole room was so amused and everyone laughed so hard that I could not finish the poem because I burst out laughing myself. When an encore was demanded, I offered the guests to work together with me. Soon, everyone was mooing, quacking, croaking, neighing, causing such a ruckus that the terrified owner came to the room not knowing what was going on. It was an unforgettable literary afternoon with Futurist poetry. I only For Author use only 258 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? primitivist pastoral that praises life in the countryside (“laba” [free time]!). Aside from primitivist and folk-like elements, Stern’s text contains elements like “pali” and “palimpo:” fragments of words unrelated to primitivism and folklore, connoting ­meta-literary meanings connected with the terms “palimpsest” and, perhaps less obviously, “palindrome.”114 Read in this way, the poem can be indeed viewed as a specific palimpsest: a text that is barely legible, fragmented and unclear yet contains many cultural layers under the cover of primitivism.115 By the way, the text does contain palindromes – signalled in a palimpsest-like manner through “pali” – such as “aba” and “bab” as well as entire sequences: “baba bab,” “abab abab aba.”116 It also abounds in anagrams based on similar principles. Simplicity thus turns out to be calculated, at least to some degree, since the discussed sound clusters carry more associations than primitivist ones. It might seem that meta-literary allusions discovered in Stern’s text would differentiate the Polish poem from Dadaist compositions generally viewed as antiintellectual. However, nothing could be further from the truth. References of this kind are not to be found in published Dada works that comprise all-text quotations or hoax-like quasi-quotations from exotic primitivist sources. Still, although the all-textual glossolalia of Schwitters’s Ursonate [Pre-sonata]117 may appear to be entirely primitivistic, this work contains many surprising meta-literary signals. It contains a passage in which the root “primit” is repeated many times in the manner of the simplest primitivist pieces and yet its meaning is entirely alien to true primitivist art: 114 115 116 117 nursed a grievance against the author, whose name I forgot, that he did not fall on his knees before me like Tytus Czyżewski [after Ordyńska perfromed “Ballada o Koci kelnerce” and “Zielone oko” in the Słowacki Theatre]” (Zofia Ordyńska, “Mój flirt z futuryzmem,” in To już prawie sto lat. Pamiętnik aktorki, Wrocław 1970, 179–80; emphasis added). See Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 29. Majerski regards the question of the text’s “palimpsest-like” character differently (Anarchia i formuły, 29). See Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 29. The text was published in its entirety in 1932 (in Merz 24), but some of its passa­ ges were created earlier. Usually the date of composition is defined as 1922–1932. Schwitters was inspired by Raoul Hausmann’s poster-poem “fmsbwtözäu / pggiv..? mü” (“fmsbwtözäu, Plakatgedicht,” in DADA. 113 Gedichte, 100; or in Paris – Berlin 1900–1933, München 1979, 165), which he heard recited by the author himself towards the end of 1921. In 1923 Schwitters wrote a phonetic poem, which he later included in slightly altered form in the Ursonate. In 1927 he published the entire first part as “Meine Sonate in Urlauten” [My sonata in pre-sounds] (containing a modified “phonetic theme” from Hausmann, beginning “Fümms bö wö tää zää Uu”). As a text, Ursonate resembles a score. See Scheffer, Anfänge experimenteller Literatur, 240; Helmut Heissenbüttel, “Versuch über die Lautsonate von Kurt Schwitters,” Akademie der Wissenscha en und der Literatur Abhandlungen der Klasse der Literatur 6 (1983), Mainz 1983, 10; John Elderfield, Kurt Schwitters, London 1987, 105. See also Herbert Schuldt, “Lautgestaltung,” Text + Kritik 35–6 (1972), 11. For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 259 priimiitittii tisch tesch priimiitittii tesch tusch priimiitittii tischa tescho priimiitittii tescho tuschi priimittii priimiitittii too priimiitittii taa.118 We would be wrong to claim that Dadaist primitivism – even of the most radical kind, manifesting as a carnival of phonemes – was never intellectual or erudite.119 One clear example of this is the provocative textual montage by Huelsenbeck,120 which references high culture yet employs numerous primitive glossolalias121 and combines symbolist phrasing with iconoclasm: This is how flat the world is The bladder of the swine Vermillon and cinnabar Cru cru cru The great art of the spirit Theosophia pneumatica poème bruitiste performed for the first time by Richard Huelsenbeck Dada … Sokobauno sokobauno sokobauno Schikaneder Schikaneder Schikaneder The garbage cans are pregnant Sokobauno Sokobauno and the dead how they rise above, torches around their head Voilà the horses bent over the barrels full of rain Voilà the rivers of wax how they fall from the edges of the moon Voilà the lake Orizunde how he reads the New York Times eating a steak tartare, 118 Qtd. after Anatol Stern, “Futuryści polscy i inni,” in Poezja zbuntowana, Warszawa 1964, 43. See also the piece by Hans Arp “Die Schwalbenhode, 4.,” in DADA. 113 Gedichte, 49. 119 Intertextual intellectualization of “non-primitivizing” Dadaist works does not raise any doubts (see e.g. Arp’s text quoted in Zaworska “Przygoda jednego pokolenia,” 81). 120 Lehnert, “Nihilismus, Anarchismus, DADA,” 1040. 121 See the commentary by Stahl, Anti-Kunst und Abstraktion, 240–2. For Author use only 260 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Voilà the cancer of the bone sokobauno sokobauno Voilà the placenta crying in the sweep net of the high school boys sokobauno sokobauno … Bier bar obibor Baumabor botschon ortitschell seviglia o casacacasaca casa cacasacacasaca casa Hemlock in hand and the purple in skin and worm here and apes and gorillas and hand and behind and he has them all here o tschatschipulala o ta Mpota Mengen Mengulala mengulala kullilibulala Bamboscha bambosch And the pants of the vicar are closing rataplan rataplan and he closes his pants and the hair how it shoots from his hearing Tschupurawanta burruh pupaganda burruh Ischarimunga burruh and the pants of the vicar are closing … Mpala the glass and the tooth is now out and the poet kara katapena kafu Mfunga mpala Mfunga Koel Dytiramba toro and the ox and the ox and the verdigris covers the tip-toes. Mpala tano ja tano mpala tano tano ojoho mpala tano mpala tano ja tano ja tano oo and the flap of the pants ohooho Mpala Zufanga Mfischa Daboscha Karamba juboscha daba eloe.122 Glossolalias are interwoven here with juxtaposed, syntactically correct sentences comprised by lexemes related to a variety of semantic fields, not only the simplest ones (which is typical of so-called primitivist poetry).123 The poem contains words that do not match in any way: “wax,” “New York Times,” “beef steak,” “vicar,” “worm,” “pants,” “high school boys,” “ox” and “verdigris.” It does not really come as a surprise that this glossolalic salad of words also contains the noun “poet.” Moreover, we should note that the poem contains clear meta-literary signals. “Introducing” his poem, Huelsenbeck provides not only a quasi-magical prescription (the poem is “brewed,” as it were, in a cauldron filled with alchemical ingredients like cinnabar or swine bladder, the latter allegedly used in magical practice)124 but also 122 In the original text the clearest sound signal is contained in glossolalic configura­ tions, which are preserved in this translation, making it possible not to quote the original German version. English version by Richard Huelsenbeck, quoted qtd. after Richter, Dada – art et anti-art, Bruxelles 1965,, 21–22. For the original see DADA. 113 Gedichte, 55–6; DADA total, 63–5. Passages quoted by: Lehnert, “Nihilismus, Anarchismus, DADA,” 1040–1; Philipp, Dadaismus, 250–1; Hans Richter, Dada, 18. 123 See Stahl, Anti-Kunst und Abstraktion, 242. 124 Döhl, “Unsinn der Kunst,” 78. For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 261 genological provenance (“poème bruitiste”) and the name of the avant-garde movement itself (“Dada”). Furthermore, the phrase “theosophia pneumatica” is deployed in an ironic context, signalling both mysticism and ridicule.125 We also encounter a more legitimized neologism “dytiramba,” which refers to an ecstatic Greek song from the Dionysia. On the other hand, the neologism “pupaganda” carries strong associations with “propaganda.” Such signals verify the readers’ knowledge of various cultural contexts,126 making the poem much more than a glossolalic, antiintellectual hymn to simplicity and primitivism. Comparative analysis shows that “1/2 godźiny” is one of those Polish Futurist poems that certainly should be read in the context of Dadaism or – to account for the diversity within this movement – in its context (after all, the exotic songs published by Tzara, the poem by Schwitters and Huelsenbeck’s poem are all differently constructed). Still, we should also remember about the relationship between the Polish poem and local folklore – a relationship alien to Dadaist practices in Western Europe.127 Another text that may be fruitfully compared with Dadaist pieces is Stern’s “Romans Peru” [Peru Romance]. Its debt to Dadaist creative methods has been identified even by the most sceptical scholars.128 What draws immediate attention is the poem’s visual composition: it was printed on green sheets of paper glued to the pages of the Gga almanac (the sheets being smaller than the pages in this volume). Consequently, the poem evidently foregrounds typographic experimentation combined with phonostylistic innovation. Below is a passage highly distinct in terms of sound. However, we should keep in mind that the entire text can be coherently interpreted and summarized in the following way:129 in distant Peru a tribal holiday is taking place, involving ritual murder of people meant as sacrifice; the priest informs the princess that she will be sacrificed at dawn the next day and is to spend her last night in a malachite tower. In the second part, the poem describes the arrival of the girl’s saviour, who is bored with adoring beautiful slaves. The third part describes the rescue, preceded by a lyrical conversation between the two lovers, which opens with a colloquial and distinctly-sounding phrase “rypię po peru” [I screw over peru]. The poem concludes with an idyllic vision of the two (or three since the princess “is stroking her large and bulging belly” – “gładzi swój brzuch napęczniały i wielki”) in a beautiful garden, where dissonance is introduced only by fits of podagra suffered by her brave saviour. Stern offers an intriguing parody of chivalrous romance, as already indicated by the poem’s title, the choice of characters (imprisoned princess, knight errant) and the plot. Knowledge of the story helps to disentangle the poem’s glossolalic and echolalic passages: 125 Döhl, “Unsinn der Kunst,” 78. 126 These signals can be discerned even in whole-text sound “scatter-poems” such as some texts by Hausmann (see Hugnet, L’aventure Dada, 173–5). 127 See Jan J. Lipski, “O poezji Tytusa Czyżewskiego,” Twórczość 6 (1960), 77. 128 See Baranowska, “Dadaizm,” 165. 129 See Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 22–8. For Author use only 262 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? część I. ofiara. puls rąk ranka bił harmonijnie różowy chłód płynął wionął pod arką – górą mięsa: tłustą, skrwawioną i żarką wytaczała się kula olbrzymia dźwigała się krowa płomienna:130 b–bla. mmuuu – g – yg – h eee – eem. mm … część III. ucieczka. już siódma. od rana, zuchwały naiwnie wionąc pióropuszem swym, rypię po peru. wieża?!!! jaka cudna ta pani w niej! ja muszę zdjąć przed nią kapelusz. rozmowa kochanków: ??????!… czyżby, czyż?. a, a, ak, agh, akh!!!! twe czyż ćwierka bee. dlin. mm jak z świerku czyż bu lu “lu bu” fr! bu lu lu “lu lu bu” fr fr frfrfr!! kizia milusieńki kukusieńki kusieńki sieńki maluteńka kulusieńka pienka – cieńka – enka mimi ba – mm mm, w!! kr trh. (ń ń…) wr! wrr aa … pełnia księżyca nad morzem. mśc łłłł bł OOO (uu) źź st st lu – la – lu oang mlst o – lo – lo szarf roztęcze. ma 130 This line, important from the perspective of what follows, is not included in the original printing of Futuryzje, but appears in Gga. The latter version is quoted here since these authorial changes were made during the existence of Polish Futurism as a group (cf. the principles of quoting Futurist texts in Introduction, 10–13, 51). See Andrzej K. Waśkiewicz, “Dodatek krytyczny,” in Anatol Stern, Wiersze zebrane, Vol. 2, Kraków 1986, 274–5. For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 263 lanka. lanka. h – eh – thhh łłł AAAA (uu) K? dzann. dzan … (utatuowany szkarłatnymi cętki SŁOŃCA sturogi olbrzymi łeb krowi wydał bezsilny urywany ryk, prędki): mmu.131 In passages from “Romans Peru” quoted above, clear sequences written using correct Polish and containing logically formed neologisms (also partially understandable) such as “kusieńki” or “kulusieńka” stand next to sound clusters typical of mirohłady – sequences that can be associated with specific words or sounds (“mśc” – miesiąc [month], miłość [love]; “mlst” – mlaskanie [smacking], which incidentally also characterizes certain so-called primitive languages)132 but cannot be regarded as meaningful or clearly explicable as communicative words. Jarosiński argues that early Futurist texts such as the description of the full moon over the sea in “Romans Peru” are primarily characterized by a playfulness that rejects any limitations imposed by tradition.133 Gazda connects this work (spe­ cifically the description of the sun in the first part) with Marinetti’s concept of “words in freedom” and Dadaism.134 As Zaworska notes, 131 Qtd. after Gga. Pierwszy polski almanach poezji futurystycznej. Dwumiesięcznik pry­ mitywistów, Warszawa 1920, 6, 10–12, emphasis preserved. Later editions (e.g. Stern, Wz 67–73) do not fully render the poem’s visual composition and contain errors in the glossolalic conversation between lovers (e.g. “kukusieńki” instead of “kusieńki”). Rough translation of semantic passages: “part I. the sacrifice / the pulse of morning’s hands was beating harmoniously / pink cold flowing and wafting over the ark – / a mountaing of meat: a fat, bloody and hot / giant ball was rolling out / the flaming cow was rising / … / part III. escape / it’s seven already. from dawn, naively brash / waving my plume I screw over peru / tower?!!! what a marvellous lady inside! / I must take off my hat before her. / conversation between lovers: / … really is it? / your sisk twittering / like a siskin from a spruce / kitty / cuddly / small / … / full moon over the sea … / out-rainbow of ribbons … / (tattooed with scarlet spots / the SUN’s hundred-horned giant cow’s head / uttered a quick helpless choking roar): moo.” 132 According to some linguists, clicks belong are characteristic for the primeval stage of the development of speech (see Roman Stopa, Studies in African Languages (Essays on Phonetics, Semiotics and Meaning), Kraków 1993, 7–86). Thus, these sounds (or their ludic, textual substitutes) have a rightful place in primitivizing texts. 133 Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” xliii. 134 Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 87. See also Grażyna Pietruszewska-Kobiela, O poezji Anatola Sterna, Częstochowa 1992, 20. For Author use only 264 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Stern attempted to … experiment with language in a way similar to that of the Swiss and French Dadaists. The clearest example of this is the [discussed] long poem … What emerges as important in it is not the meaning of words, but their sonic qualities and direct, gibberish-like expression of emotions, reactions and spontaneous cries.135 As Lewandowska concludes, the description of the full moon is “not just an instance of Les Mots en liberté but of liberated letters whose final effect depends rather on their arrangement on the page, i.e. visual configuration, than on poetic considerations, which are difficult to identify here.”136 What follows is an attempt to develop a semantic and scholarly explication of at least some of the sonic structures in this poem. The quoted scholars invoke two fundamental contexts for this piece: Dadaism and Italian Futurism. The present aim consists in determining which of these affinities is more relevant in this case. The quoted passages, which are the most radically avant-garde ones in this work, contain several sentences that are entirely correct in terms of grammar. The first of the quoted stanzas contains adverbs, which were completely rejected by Marinetti, and adjectives, which he (finally) tolerated.137 Thus, the possible inspiration with “words in freedom” is not particularly consistent even in those parts of the text that are the least traditional in terms of composition. Still, language is dismantled by rejecting not only syntax but also the fundamental unit of textual organization – the word.138 Indeed, Stern’s poem can be analysed in two ways: in the context of Dadaism and in the light of Marinetti’s programme, although perhaps without referring to the idea of parole in libertà. It is often noted that Dadaism is indebted to concepts developed by Marinetti. Scholars typically underline the role of “words in freedom” as the principle that undermined the fundamental aspect of literature to date, namely syntactic coherence (often accompanied by semantic clarity).139 However, allow me to emphasize 135 Helena Zaworska, “Przemiany polskiego futuryzmu,” in Literatura polska 1918–1975, Vol. 1, eds. A. Brodzka, H. Zaworska, S. Żółkiewski, Warszawa 1975, 355; emphasis added. 136 Bożena Lewandowska, “U źródeł grafiki funkcjonalnej w Polsce,” in Ze studiów nad genezą plastyki nowoczesnej w Polsce, ed. J. Starzyński, Wrocław 1966, 215. 137 Cf. fn. 111 in Chapter One. 138 Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 34, writes: “The question ‘What is the foundation of poetry?’ was variously answered by the champions of the avant-garde. For example, Stern makes the word his point of departure, but he descends to its lower levels, down to syllables and individual sounds, which he treated ludically. Then, as is well known, the conviction about the meaningful character of sounds, words and letters would become programmatic. Thus, creative power rests in words, in sounds recorded in letters, used … without relying on chance. Still, Stern never really undertook the task to practically implement the idea of ‘words in freedom’ in the sense given to this term by Marinetti. In the case of Stern, it should be treated as an idea expressing creative freedom and the poet’s right to remain omnipotent in relation to words and language, cherising freedom from all rules, even grammatical ones.” 139 “The idea of ‘words-in-freedom’ was to become central to Dada activity, and is at the root of audio-visual concepts in the fine arts today. The conventional poem read For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 265 that there is yet another dimension that both avant-garde movements share, namely onomatopoeia. The impact of Marinetti’s theorization in this area, along with his own constructions of this kind, can be traced in Stern’s Dadaist-like poem and other glossolalic-echolalic Dadaist compositions. In the latter, incomprehensibility would be usually desired, but in Marinetti’s work it stems from the utopian character of his onomatopoeic concepts. However, the close connection between Dadaism and Italian Futurism140 in terms of asemantic (or nearly asemantic) phonic structures has been largely omitted in studies of the avant-garde.141 Let us begin with a recapitulation of Marinetti’s claims regarding onomatopoeia. The Futurist theoretician describes these structures in great detail, recommending them for poetic use.142 Indicating several degrees of onomatopoeia does not raise concerns as this is an undeniable linguistic fact.143 However, Marinetti’s perspective radically departs from any scientific categorization that aspires to objectivity. The Italian Futurist was not satisfied with analyses of relations between the sound of 140 141 142 143 off the page is an ‘event’ which occurs by and large in the reader’s head. The poem constructed upon the principle of words in freedom is read aloud as a pure, nonfigurative, auditory experience; at the same time, by the use of a characteristic and scored typography, it presents a visual parallel to the sound experience” (Kenneth Coutts-Smith, Dada, London 1970, 46). I refer here primarily to literary concepts and texts by Marinetti because “he was probably the only one among the ‘new writers’ to closely realize his own, constantly modified programmes” (Tadeusz Miczka, Czas przyszły niedokonany. O włoskiej sztuce futurystycznej, Katowice 1988, 70). “He remained the sole representative of the most radical Futurism in poetry. As the spiritus movens of this formation, he unambiguously embodied it” (Jalu Kurek, “Romantyk futuryzmu,” in Chora fontanna (wiersze futurystów włoskich), trans. J. Kurek, Kraków 1977, 6). See also Józef Heistein, Historia literatury włoskiej. Zarys, Wrocław 1979, 218; Joanna Ugniewska, Historia literatury włoskiej XX wieku, Warszawa 1985, 39–41; Heistein, “Décadentisme, symbolisme, avant-garde,” 78, 83. See also the profiles of Italian Futurist poets sketched by Henryka Młynarska: “Posłowie,” in Chora fontanna, 77–84. This problem is also crucial because Polish literary criticism often confuses Marinetti’s onomatopoeic typology. Marinetti declared in 1913: “We, the Futurists, begin our bold and incessant use of onomatopoeia” (F. T. Marinetti, “Distruzione della sintassi. Immaginazione senza fili. Parole in libertà,” in Zang Tumb Tuuum. Adrianopoli Ottobre 1912. Parole in libertà, Milano 1914, 23. The text is dated: “Milano, 11 Maggio 1913”). It cannot be reliably ascertained whether Polish Futurists knew these postulates. Still, his writings were published and widely commented in Russia, while Polish authors displayed a lively interest in the Russian literary and artistic ferment. It is thus possible that Marinetti’s theses travelled to Poland in this way. See Jolanta Żurawska-Citarelli, “Pierwsze reakcje na futuryzm włoski w Polsce,” Przegląd Humanistyczny 9 (1977), 197–208; Goriély, “L’avant-garde littéraire en Pologne,” 68; Przemysław Strożek, Marinetti i futuryzm w Polsce 1909–1939. Obecność – kontakty – wydarzenia, Warszawa 2012; Monika Gurgul, “Echa włoskiego futuryzmu w prasie polskiej w latach 1909–1939,” in Echa włoskie w prasie polskiej (1860–1939). Szkice biograficzne, Kraków 2006, 99–158. See also Tadeusz Peiper, “Futuryzm (analiza i krytyka),” Zwrotnica 6 (1923), 169. Cf. the considerations in section one in Chapter One, 65–6. For Author use only 266 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? “onomatopoeias” (he was interested solely in proper ones) and the actual sounds encountered in extralinguistic reality. He developed his own, subjective and basically unverifiable typology, differentiating four categories of onomatopoeic structures:144 a. direct onomatopoeias – direct, imitative, elementary, and realistic145 The aim of using this kind of onomatopoeia was to make the text more authentic by rendering “brutal reality” and counteracting the excessively abstract character of poetry. As examples of such devices, Marinetti quotes the imitation of gunshots (“pic pac poum” in French)146 or the “strident” (stridente) onomatopoeia “ssiiiiii” (the whistle of a tugboat on the Meuse) and the subsequent, “veiled” (voilée) onomatopoeia “ffiiii ffiiiii” (echo from a distant shore).147 Most onomatopoeic structures from Zang Tumb Tuuum can be clas­ sified as direct and easy to decode, dynamizing and authenticating the text.148 However, in Marinetti’s view they would not constitute the best examples of using this technique. b. indirect onomatopoeias – complex and analogical Marinetti did not explain the mechanism of this kind of onomatopoeia, limiting himself to examples from his own works. In his view, the French onomatopoeia 144 Types of onomatopoeic constructions qtd. after F. T. Marinetti, “La splendeur géométrique et mécanique et la sensibilité numerique (1914),” in Giovanni Lista, Futurisme. Manifestes – proclamations – documents, Lausanne 1973, 150–1. For the English translation see F. T. Marinetti, “Geometric and Mechanical Splendor and the Numerical Sensibility (March 18, 1914),” in Selected Writings, ed. R. W. Flint, trans. R. W. Flint, A. A. Coppotelli, London 1972, 101–2; all English names for the onomaopoeic constructions after this source. A slightly different text on types of onomatopoeia is contained in Marinetti’s “Les mots en liberté futuristes” (F. T. Marinetti, “Onomatopées et Verbalisation abstraite,” in Les mots en liberté futuristes, Milano 1919, 65–7). Differences regard the psychic onomatopoetic harmony (point “d” in the classification) and abstract verbalization. The former is discussed only in the manifesto, while the latter – only in the article “Onomatopées et Verbalisation abstraite.” This discussion bases mainly on the French text, using the English one only to quote examples of onomatopoeias included in the footnotes in cases when French and English differ (after all, Marinetti originally published in Italian and French). 145 Sequences of terms are synonymic in Marinetti’s view. 146 In English: “ratta-tat-tat” [!]‌. 147 Marinetti held that such constructions allowed him not to describe the river’s width because the distance between the two banks would be me made clear by the contrast between the consonants “s” and “f.” 148 Consider a passage from Zang Tumb Tuuum, from the part “Bombardamento” [Bombardment], which renders the dynamic of events at the war front in sonic and visual terms: “ogni 5 secondi cannoni da assedio sventrare spazio con un accordo tam–tuuumb ammutinamento di 500 echi per azzannarlo sminuzzarlo sparpagliarlo all’infinito … forza che gioia vedere udire fiutare tutto tutto taratatatata delle mitragliatrici strillare a perdifiato sotto morsi schia traak–traak frustate pic–pac–pum–tumb bizzzzarrie salti altezza 200 m. della fucileria Giù giù in fondo For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 267 “doum-doum-doum-doum” expresses “the circling sound of the African sun and the orange weight of the sun, creating a rapport between sensations of weight, heat, colour, smell and noise,”149 while “stridionlà stridionlà stridionlaire” indicates an ana­ logy between the sound of clashing swords and churned up waves.150 In the case of examples provided here, the term “onomatopoeia” should be put in quotation marks due to lack of any clear, discernible motivation behind certain onomatopoeic expressions in extralinguistic reality.151 The subjective character of these attributions beco­ mes even more apparent in other categories distinguished by Marinetti. c. abstract onomatopoeias These sonically distinct expressions would correspond to the most complex and mysterious “motions of our sensibility.”152 Marinetti provides the following exam­ ple of such “onomatopoeia” (quotation marks are necessary in this case):153 “rnn rnn 149 150 151 152 153 all’orchestra stagni / diguazzare buoi buffali / pungoli carri plu pla impennarsi di cavalli flic flac zing zing sciaaack ilari nitriti iiiiiii… scalpiccii tintinnii 3 battaglioni bulgari in marcia croooc–craaac [LENTO DUE TEMPI] Sciumi Maritza o Karvavena croooc craaac grida degli ufficiali sbataccccchiare come piatttti d’otttttone pan di qua paack di là cing buuum cing ciak [PRESTO] ciaciaciaciaciaak su giù là là intorno in alto attenzione sulla testa ciaack bello” (Marinetti, Zang Tumb Tuuum, 181–2; emphasis preserved). Rough English translation after the Polish rendition by J. Kurek: “every 5 seconds siege cannons gut space with the chord Tam Tuuumb Bunt 500 sounds tear apart grind down spill up into infinity … what joy to see hear smell everything ratta-tat-tat of machine guns roaring until ready to drop before bites slappps crack crack whipping pic pack pum tumb weirrrrd jumps machine gun salutes height 200 metres deep down down by the orchestra pools bubbling buffalo entanglements vehicles plu pla horses rearing up flic flak ding ding shoop happy neighing stompiiing clangiiing 3 Bulgarian batallions marching crooock craaack humminh marica okarvavena crooock craaack officers shouting crrrrushing like brass cymbals mr this way paack that way ching booom ching chang ratta-tat-tat up above down below there there everywhere high watch out beauty overhead” See Kurek, Romantyk futuryzmu, 12. Another passage from Zang Tumb Tuuum is quoted by Stefan Żeromski in Snobizm i postęp, 28. Marinetti, “Geometric and Mechanical Splendor,” 101. Marinetti, “Geometric and Mechanical Splendor,” 101. Discerning any similarities in this arbitrary assignation is possible only after reading the author’s commentary. In Marinetti’s view, the discussed constructions are specific “metaphorical onomatopoeias” – one-off, entirely unobjective interpretations of sound sequences repeated several times. Naturally, the construction he points out – “dum-dum-dum-dum” – could be regarded as a linguistic rendition of the sound of drums, heavy footsteps, or serious musical notes (as in a funeral march), but this would reduce it to the lowest level of onomatopoeia indicated by him: the realistic one. Marinetti, “Geometric and Mechanical Splendor,” 102. Just like in the case of complex onomatopoeia, it seems impossible to indicate objec­ tive factors (i.e. ones existing in language and reality) that would allow readers to For Author use only 268 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? rnn” – an expression that has no counterpart among natural or machinic sounds and reflects only a certain state of mind. d. onomatopoetic psychic harmony This kind of onomatopoeia involves the fusion of two or three abstract onomatopoeias. Considerations of onomatopoeia are supplemented in Marinetti’s writings by the concept of abstract verbalization: Abstract verbalization is supposed to express various states of the soul through spontaneous creation and juxtaposition of noises and sounds deprived of specific meaning. For example, I have rendered the complex sense of speed and direction experienced by a person driving a car by using the following abstract verbalization: mocastrinar fralingaren donì donì donì × × + × vronkap vronkap × × × × × angolò angolì angolà angolin vronkap + diraor diranku falasò falasòhhhh falasò picpic viaAAAR viamelokranu bimbim nu rang = = = = + = rarumà viar viar viar154 “In practice,” Heistein observes, “distinguishing between them [types of onomatopoeia] is not easy, the readers regarding the final effect – it seems – as contrary to what was originally intended (i.e. as artificial, infantile, etc.).”155 Linguistic analy­ sis seems applicable only in the first category since other kinds of onomatopoeic structures are connected with the extralinguistic reality only through intangible ties, making them appear more like echolalic or glossolalic structures whose reference is difficult to pin down. From the perspective of linguistics, these are not really onomatopoeias. However, the composition itself constitutes an interesting context for analysing the Dadaist-leaning current in Polish Futurism. Returning to the onomatopoeic and glossolalic constructions in “Romans Peru,” Majerski argues that the passage we may deem to be a specific echolalia (“b–bla. mmuuu – g – yg – h / eee – eem. mm”) can be in fact regarded as what Marinetti called imitative onomatopoeia.156 Two interpretive paths can be pursued properly interpret abstract onomatopoeias, which “do not correspond to any known sounds in nature but constitute a sonic counterpart to the most complex and mysterious aspects of human sensibility” (Józef Heistein, “Futuryzm we Włoszech,” in Futuryzm i jego warianty w literaturze europejskiej, ed. J. Heistein, Wrocław 1977, 33). 154 Marinetti, “Onomatopées et Verbalisation abstraite,” 67. 155 Heistein, Wprowadzenie do literaturoznawstwa porównawczego, 127. 156 Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 23–4. For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 269 here: constructions such as “b–bla” can be deemed either as realizations close to Marinetti’s postulate of making poetry onomatopoeic or as manifestations of the Dadaist cult of the primitive. These two paths do not have to exclude each other, especially in the highly eclectic Polish context. Stern precedes his glossolalic and echolalic creations with a passage that describes the sunrise: “wytaczała się kula olbrzymia / dźwigała się krowa płomienna.” This reveals an intentional reference to Marinetti’s famous “dum-dum-dum-dum,” which was meant to be a complex onomatopoeia referring to the “the circling sound of the African sun and the orange weight of the sun.” Stern’s construction would thus combine different types of Marinetti’s onomatopoeias: an imitative one, because we may discern the mooing of “the flaming cow”157 (and perhaps also its morning yawn: “– g – yg – h / eee – eem. mm”) and a complex one (related to the aforementioned “dum-dum-dum-dum”). Both authors would strive to discover new means of expression, formerly unknown to “high culture,” and the results of these explorations appear to be surprisingly convergent, bringing also strong associations with the “pre-verbal” gibberish and primitive babbling that fascinated the Dadaists. Another passage from “Romans Peru,” the two-column “conversation between lovers,” can be also interpreted in two ways. Sequences like “a, a, ak, agh, akh!!!!,” “bee. dlin.mm,” or “bu lu lu” can be treated as examples of Marinetti-like higherorder onomatopoeia that expresses “motions of sensibility” (the lovers would probably not speak each other’s languages) or as a Dadaist primitivization of the text. This passage from Stern can be compared with the poem “Etyomons” by Adon Lacroix, published in the Dada Almanach:158 ETYOMONS notso PN DA DI ME ZAZZ OMA DO RE TE O Ma QU ZI MATA DURA RRO RRO DI O.Q DURA RU K TI MA TOITURA ASCHM ZT DI ZRATATITOILA PLGE LA LA LAR-R-RITA ZR KRN NMTOTO LAR-R-RITA NM E SHCHU LAR-R-RITA KM NE SCU Iloveyou mi o do ré mi mi o “marmelade”159 157 The realistic onomatopoeia “mmu,” which justifies this interpretation, also appears towards the end of the text. 158 The title suggests a search for lost, primeval etymological relations. 159 Dada Almanach, 52; emphasis preserved. For Author use only 270 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? The construction of this text is very similar to that of the Polish “conversation between lovers.” This two-column piece contains amorous meanings and interweaves glossolalic clusters of sounds with lexemes and phrases recognizable as belonging to European languages (“not so,” “I love you,”160 “dura” and “toitura,” close to French and Spanish words, or finally “marmalade,” widely understandable). It thus becomes apparent that interpreting Stern’s constructions along the lines of the Italian “legislator of Futurism,” i.e. as onomatopoeias of higher order (complex, abstract, and even ones related to psychic harmony or abstract verbalization), does not preclude viewing them as instances of emotive and expressive Dadaist gibberish (perhaps reflecting the two lovers’ problem with overcoming language barriers).161 After all, both interpretations highlight the tangle of feelings and emotions. Dadaist gibberish and onomatopoeia understood in Marinetti’s multiple terms may in fact turn out to be linguistically identical in specific cases. Futurist onomatopoeias and echoes of Dadaist play with phonemes and visual composition can be also identified in the typographically varied sequence introduced as “full moon over the sea:” “mśc łłłł bł OOO (uu) // źź st st / lu – la – lu oang / mlst o – lo – lo.” This passage can be interpreted as a sonic representation of the full moon, with fragments of the lovers’ conversation superimposed over it. Majerski considers the triple repetition of “O” to be a premonition of the heroine’s death, or a literary representation of stars.162 This may be too far-reaching. His asso­ ciation of “lu-la-lu” with the noun “luna” seems more probable, although the text’s construction may also constitute an echolalic record of the lover’s soothing words for the princess, or a distortion of the lullaby-like “lulanie” [lulling]. Furthermore, Majerski interprets the cluster “mśc” as “miesiąc” [moon / month],163 although it is also possible to associate it with the word “miłość” [love], which contains similar consonants. According to the scholar, “oang” is the sound of the tropics (as in the case of the exotic-sounding words “Kongo” [Congo], “orangutan,” “orange” and, less convincingly, the French “langue” and the English “language”).164 In turn, the consonantal onomatopoeic cluster “mlst” can suggest “mlaskanie” [smacking/ slurping] or kissing165 (it would be much more intriguing than the banal Polish proper onomatopoeia “cmok”). Unlike in the description of the sunrise, this part of the composition contains sound clusters that can be associated with specific 160 Repeated several times, “(LA LA) LAR-R-RITA” is probably a fragmented woman’s name (this representing one of the already analysed Dadaist techniques). 161 This also brings to mind the “exchange of sentences” between St. Joseph and the Three Magi in “Krippenspiel” (cf. p. 245 ff). 162 Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 26. Jarosiński argues that the discussed passage from “Romans Peru” “registers the sounds of calm waves, or the swoosh of surf. It is a parody of Marinetti’s poem” (Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” xliii, fn. 18). 163 Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 26. 164 Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 26. 165 Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 26. For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 271 lexemes.166 The onomatopoeias (except for the imitative “mlst”) can be regarded as motivated by the similarity of certain regular words (miesiąc [moon / month], miłość [love], Kongo [Congo], etc.). Marinetti did not at all anticipate such ties between onomatopoeic constructions and general language, while the Dadaists did not preclude any textual possibilities. As analysis confirms, the described creations of glossolalic and echolalic character – to an extent reflecting Marinetti’s postulates regarding onomatopoeia – are clearly related to the Dadaist fascination with the primitive. The kinds of onomatopoeia that Marinetti favoured the most (complex and abstract ones as well as abstract verbalization and psychic harmony) cannot be distinguished in the text from the Dadaist primitive. Stern’s long poem is still quite far from the most orthodox bruitist poems, although its asemantic and glossolalic character as well the specific onomatopoeic nature of certain passages clearly bring it closer to such practices. Another aspect characteristic for the ludic Dada yet alien to the serious postulates of Marinetti is humour.167 There are such elements in “Romans Peru:” the “mooing” sun or the throes of passion rendered using the onomatopoeia “frfrfr!” Despite the similarities between sound structures created by Stern and the poetic devices of Marinetti, ideas developed by these two writers are not particularly close (somewhat alike the situation identified in discussion of similarities between the practices of the Polish Futurists and Khlebnikov).168 Indeed, Stern’s onomato­ poeias are saturated with the Dadaist spirit of playfulness and laughter. To conclude the consideration of “Romans Peru,” we should emphasize yet another question: the Dadaists did not create longer, semantically coherent and story-driven works encrusted with “liberated” sounds.169 For example, in large parts of “Crayon bleu” it is difficult to indicate a clear line of semantic development, 166 Balcerzan’s concept of “mutilated words” would fit perfectly here, although it is not useful for analysis of most Dadaizing texts by the Futurists (see Introduction, 33 ff). Gazda considered the above-mentioned “Dadaist primitivizing elements in A. Stern” as instances of “shattering ossified language forms” and “reaching back to language’s prehistory … to its primeval state, in order to find better expression of life’s dynamism, developing its vision that does not fit existing aesthetic canons” (Grzegorz Gazda, “Funkcja prymitywu i egzotyki w literaturze międzywojennej,” in Problemy literatury polskiej lat 1890–1939, series 1, eds. H. Kirchner, Z. Żabicki, Wrocław 1972, 383). 167 See Kazimierz Wyka, “ ‘Z lawy metafor’,” in Rzecz wyobraźni, 248. 168 Cf. Chapter Two. 169 Unlike Marinetti, as Zang Tumb Tuuum confirms, although its sonic layer proves semantically indispensable to the composition, carrying meanings that are crucial for the entire text. Huelsenbeck’s “[This is how flat…]” (quoted earlier) announces itself in this way. It combines glossolalias and regular words. However, it soon turns out to be an extravaganza of semantically incoherent, juxtaposed poetic images. For Author use only 272 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? the text by Lacroix being comprised almost entirely of opaque glossolalias.170 In “Romans Peru,” on the other hand, glossolalic and onomatopoeic constructions are connected with the story developed in the poem. The quoted passages are merely excerpts from a larger whole that can be semantically decoded. They do not determine the entire poem, characterizing only the quoted passages and forming an unanticipated, primitivist scaffolding. After all, the story is set in the unknown and exotic Peru. Deleting these passages would not cause the poem to lose its coherence, but only make it more traditional and understandable, not leaving any semantic gaps. From the perspective of the entire text, glossolalias are only a “defamiliarizing” addition. One final gloss is necessary. Examples of asemantic, glossolalic works are found not only in the Dadaist corpus or Marinetti’s oeuvre, but also in the already discussed realizations of hermetic linguistic concepts by Khlebnikov (e.g. the divine language) or in some poems by Kruchyonykh.171 However, these texts were formed out of entirely dissimilar inspirations. Readers unaware of the theoretical underpinnings of these works may simply fail to notice any important, qualitative differences between the echolalic and glossolalic works by Marinetti, Dadaist pieces and works from the circles of Russian and Polish Futurism.172 The only possible indicator could be the humour in some of these poems. At this stage, however, it becomes paramount to account for the Dadaist influences in Polish Futurism and secondarily to indicate critically unrecognized similarities between Dadaism and Marinetti. An exhaustive and coherent description of glossolalic, echolalic and onomatopoeic constructions in the European avantgarde seems a utopian endeavour. Still, we should recount that similar constructions exist in works of entirely non-avant-garde provenance. This would concern not only the language of magic spells or glossolalic refrains in folk songs, but also anonymous ludic enumerations, songs, or humorous pieces written by representatives of Young Poland. One example of an alogical folk enumeration is: 170 This is how the audience must have received simultaneous poems read by three people at the same time (each one reciting their own part). Even if individual parts contained understandable words apart from unclear glossolalias, the whole would appear semantically obscure and incoherent. See the simultaneous poems in Scheffer, Anfänge experimenteller Literatur, 230; DADA total, 87. Another interesting example of a text that is almost entirely asemantic is Schwitters’s “quasicalling-card,” in which the only meaningful signal is the conventional abbreviation “tel.” and subsequent numbers: “Mehévidanomi renanocalipnoditoc / EXTARTINAP v.s. / A. Z. / Tel. 33–122 Pan: Pan / OeaoiiiioKTin / Iiiiiiiii” (qtd. after Stern, “Futuryści polscy i inni,” 45). 171 Cf. Chapter Two. 172 See the comparison of examples from poems by Marinetti and Schwitters in The Dada Painters and Poets, xxiv; texts by Palazzeschi and Kruchyonykh discussed by Zaworska in “Przygoda jednego pokolenia,” 82–3. For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 273 Kunda, munda, karamunda, Dunda, bunda, paramunda.173 A song by a Polish boy, which initially sounded “Jaką piłkę tutaj mam!” [What ball do I have here!], was transformed into: Ekikiki tutu ma Ekikiki tutu ma.174 One passage from a text by Felicjan Faleński runs: [Panna Julia] zbiegała ze schodów, podobna do charcika w czapraczku, dźwię cząc przy tym znaną wszystkim śpiewkę z “Jesionowego paltota w Rzymie” (właściwie: jesiennego w zimie): – Gdzieżeś? gdzie? – Bre – bre – bre! – Czy to ty? / – Kwi – kwi – kwi! – Ja to sam. / – Tu? czy tam? / – Już cię mam. / – Ham – ham – ham!175 [[Miss Julia] ran down the stairs, reminiscent of a greyhound in a saddlecloth, humming the well-known song from the “Autumn coat in Rome” (actually an autumn coat in winter): – Where are you? where? – Brer – brer – brer! – Is that you? – Qiu – qiu – qiu! – It is me. – Oh? Really? – I got you. – Hoo – hoo – hoo!] Naturally, opaque glossolalias play a different function in “Romans Peru” (providing an avant-garde and primitivist “setting”) than in the above enumerations. However, in the text by Faleński glossolalias function, just like in Stern, as a phonic staffage supporting the story. The two texts – one with roots in Young Poland, the other Futurist – are 173 Text noted down by Korniej Czukowski (qtd. after Cieślikowski, Wielka zabawa, 244). 174 Text recorded by Czukowski qtd. after ibidem. It is also possible to mention a chil­ dren’s game “in which various neologisms are created to develop rhymes,” e.g. “powiedz: łopata – twoja matka kalapata” or “powiedz: łochtusza – twoja matka psia dusza” (Cieślikowski, Wielka zabawa, 170). 175 Felicjan Faleński, O głupim Gawle. Klechda niemądra, Kraków 1893, 22–23. For Author use only 274 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? also similar in terms of their light-heartedness, humour and playfulness. The only difference is that in the case of Stern glossolalic sequences are more ambiguous, nuanced, varied (“a, ak, agh,” “kukusieńki,” “pienka – cieńka – enka”) and finally – more difficult to interpret. It is clear, however, that instances of avant-garde play with sound can be compared with passages of entirely non-avant-garde provenance. So far, analyses have demonstrated various similarities between Dadaist pieces and ones written by the Polish Futurists. The fundamental differences involve, on the one hand, the lack of structural references to literary tradition or local folk culture in European Dadaism and on the other – the encrusting function of glossolalic constructions in Stern’s “Romans Peru,” a non-Dadaist work that is semantically coherent and tells an elaborate story (which is quite probable and far from oneiric).176 Polish Futurism lacks poems that are completely “primitivist,” i.e. not supplementing the echolalic or glossolalic constructions with narrative structures or elements or high culture. Polish literary history also features no works that would represent another aspect of Dadaist poetry. The quoted poems “Gedicht 63” and “Persiennes” partly illustrate the problem in question. However, the matter becomes even clearer in the context of longer compositions. Below is a passage from another famous, glossolalic Dadaist text: Ursonate177 by Kurt Schwitters, who “was appalled when someone detected a recognizable word in one of his works:”178 Fümms bö wö tää zää Uu Uu zee tee wee bee fümms. rakete rinnzekete rakete rinnzekete rakete rinnzekete rakete rinnzekete rakete rinnzekete 176 See section five in this chapter. 177 Quote here is a passage from the first part of Ursonate – one inspired by Hausmann’s poem (cf. fn. 117 and 305), developed until 1927 (thus roughly coinciding with the activity of Polish Futurists) and a passage from the later, fourth part. 178 Bigsby, Dada and Surrealism, 27–8. Interestingly, Schwitters (especially prior to publishing the entire Ursonate) would himself semantically explicate his own obscure compositions. The first part of Ursonate (“Meine Sonate in Urlauten”) was published in the Dutch magazine i 10 with the author’s comments, explaining for example that the apparently random sequence of sounds “de des nn nn rrrrr” was actually modelled on the proper name “Dresden” (which is yet another example of the already discussed Dadaist fragmentation of words into phonemes and sound clusters), that the syllable “pra” is an anagram of Hans Arp’s name, or that the oft-repeated “rakete” “is nothing else than a rocket of words (das Wort Rackete).” Schwitters also reveals that he was inspired by Hausmann (qtd. after Scheffer, Anfänge experimenteller Literatur, 240–1). For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 275 rakete rinnzekete rakete rinnzekete Beeeee Bö fö böwö fümmsbö böwörö fümmsböwö … rakete rinnzekete rakete rinnzekete rakete rinnzekete rakete rinnzekete179 The device in question is even more apparent in one further passage from the Ursonate: Grim grim grim grim grim grim grim grim bum bum bum bum grim grim grim grim Tila tila tila tila Grim grim grim glim glim glim glim glim glim glim glim bimbim bimbim bimbim bimbim glim glim glim glim lola lola lola lola glim glim glim gnim gnim gnim gnim gnim gnim gnim gnim bam bam bam bam gnim gnim gnim gnim lula lula lula lula gnim gnim gnim bimbim bimbim bimbim bimbim bimbim bimbim bimbim bimbim bimbim bimbim bimbim bimbim bimbim bimbim bimbim bimbim lola lula lula lula bimbim bimbim bimbim 179 Qtd. after Heissenbüttel, “Versuch über die Lautsonate,” 11–12. For Author use only 276 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? grim bem bem bem bem Tata tata tata tata Tillalala tillalala Tata tata Tillalala tillalala glim tata tata tata tata tillalala tillalala. tata tata tillalala tillalala.180 bem bem bem bem gnim bimbim tui tui tui tui E E E E tui tui tui tui E E E E tui tui E E tui tui E E. Texts by Stern (particularly “1/2 godźiny”), “Moskwa” by Młodożeniec and Schwitters’s Ursonate seem related to a large degree: they are characterized by constant repetition of the same phonemes, all of which bring associations with linguistic primitivism. Still, the poem by Schwitters employs long sequences of sounds repeated many times in unchanging verse patterns. This makes his poem much like the “holy gibberish” and trance-like “recitations” that “introduce a special state in one’s consciousness.”181 It is not the point here to imply that Ursonate is a Dadaist mantra because it contains too many changes of sound and tempo,182 which can be related (as many analyses demonstrate)183 to the non-primitive musi­ cal form of sonata, as announced in the work’s title.184 However, there are reasons 180 Qtd. after Coutts-Smith, Dada, 127. 181 Lubomir Plesník, “Pragmatyka repetycji,” trans. T. M. Piotrowska-Małek, in Dialog, komparatystyka, literatura, eds. E. Kasperski, D. Ulicka, Warszawa 2002, 84. 182 A tape recording of Schwitters reading his work has been preserved and published in 1993 by Wergo thanks to efforts by the American artist and musicologist Jack Ox. His recitation is characterized by changing tempo and intonation. Ox conducts experiments aiming to “transcribe” the phonic form of Ursonate into a visual one. The repeated, sometimes hugely varying rhythm of her visual forms confirms my findings. See http://www.jac​kox.net//pages/Urson​ate/ur_MA​INin​dex.html; http://www.jac​kox.net/pages/Urson​ate//UrPer​form​ance​Proj​ect.html (accessed 26 September 2014). 183 See Scheffer, Anfänge experimenteller Literatur, 242. 184 For interesting remarks on relations between Ursonate and music (as Schwitters’s attempt at a Gesamtkunstwerk) see Heissenbüttel, “Versuch über die Lautsonate,” 10–18; Scheffer, Anfänge experimenteller Literatur, 242–9; Stahl, Anti-Kunst und Abstraktion, 385–6. For Author use only A carnival of phonemes? 277 to consider this text, which is based on consistent repetition of sonic themes, as clearly referring to mind-altering “shamanistic” or ritual “quasi-speech.”185 The words and quasi-words that appear in poems by Polish Futurists do not become the basis for trance-like melodeclamation because they do not exhibit continuous repetition of longer, identical sequences of sounds. For example, Polish works do not feature the repetition of entire, glossolalic lines, which constitutes the principle of composition in the Ursonate. In the case of Stern’s poems, glossolalic sequences known from ritual practices in so-called primitive societies function, at best, as a distant and clearly ludic reference. Moreover, the relatively numerous formations of this type, weaved into the text, can be identified semantically186 as carrying non-serious, ludic meanings (“baba,” “fr fr”). In comparison with the sonically disciplined, almost asemantic passages from Schwitters, Stern’s “1/2 godźiny” is a truly ludic carnival of sounds liberated from semantic shackles. In the case of “Moskwa” by Młodożeniec, references to primitive trance would be particularly contrary in spirit as the poem features a coherent semantic structure, internally diversified due to changes in sequences of sounds and shifts in intonation. * The Dadaist creative method, which consists in composing extensive poetic passages by arranging sounds that do not form recognizable lexemes, was rarely employed within Polish Futurism, and if so – in highly heterogeneous pieces. This nevertheless constitutes a precedent in Polish literature: the first consistent use of echolalic and glossolalic sequences in high poetry (not in folk or occasional works). There are certain elements shared by Dadaist works and ones by Polish Futurists, the most important being: – decomposition of words, repetition of syllables and phonemes, – references to primitivism manifesting in the use of echolalia and glossolalia, – occasional surfacing of cultural and meta-literary references in seemingly primitive sequences of sounds, 185 Schwitters’s text deserves to be characterized in this way to a far greater degree than the poem by Ball “[Gadji beri bimba…]” quoted in the chapter devoted to word formation. In Ball’s piece, the repetitive character of sound sequences is less intense; moreover, it contains “quasi-words” connoting clearly ludic meanings (“rhinozerossola” or “elifantolim”). Cf. section two in Chapter Two. Elderfield argues that in the Ursonate “parts of the work seem particularly onomatopoeic, resembling the sound of drums, the singing of birds, etc. … Schwitters uses ‘words’ in order to return to an almost prelinguistic form of communication, creating in his ‘ur-language’ primitive sequences of sounds, which refer to monotonous incantations, spells and the sounds of nature. Then he encloses the whole in a ‘high’ form [sonata] derived from ‘classical’ music” (Elderfield, Kurt Schwitters, 195). 186 Schwitters’s text contains few morphemes or lexemes from general language (some are distorted), e.g. “priimit” or “rakete.” For Author use only 278 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? – relatively far-reaching phonic homogeneity of certain texts, – care for the visual aspect of the poem, often emphasizing its sound structure. However, there are numerous characteristics that distinguish Polish Futurists from the Dadaists, which include primarily the following: – references to local folklore and tradition (texts from Czyżewski’s volume Pastorałki; “1/2 godźiny” by Stern), – glossolalic and onomatopoeic staffage accompanying a coherent, non-oneiric story (“Romans Peru” by Stern), – setting the primitivizing constructions within the framework of genre conventions, with no more than slight modifications (“Kolęda” by Czyżewski), – constructing a relatively coherent system of meanings over seemingly asemantic and gibberish-like structures (“Moskwa” by Młodożeniec, “Na rzece” by Jasieński), – lack of “shamanistic” and “trance-like” incantations based on asemantic repetition of unchanging sequences of sounds. Finally, let us return to the question posed in the title of this section. First of all, we must ascertain whether in the case of Dadaist pieces we can really speak of a carnival of sounds. It would be an exaggeration to claim that Dadaist texts display complete arbitrariness of sound patterns. The language structures accompanying glossolalias would often justify and explain the use of semantically opaque, primitivizing constructions (e.g. in “Krippenspiel”). The carnival character, however, does not entail thorough anti-intellectualism, but merely freedom from generally binding rules. By accepting this perspective, it becomes possible to regard glossolalic Dadaist texts as carnivalesque. This situation turns out to be much more complex in the case of Polish Futurism, in which the carnival of sounds was more thought-out and surreptitiously woven into a much more orderly and conventional structure. Analysis shows that in the case of Polish writers it is difficult to speak of complete arbitrariness regarding the sonic layer, or of juggling random phonemes. The phonic carnival is best visible and audible in the quoted poems by Stern, although a certain playfulness can be also discerned in the word- and sound-play contained in cited short passages from Wat’s Piecyk. Finally, in “Kolęda” and “Moskwa” the phonic carnival turns out to be only apparent since these compositions adhere to a certain semantic or genological framework (the latter in the case of Czyżewski). 3. D  ada-onomatopoeia? Onomatopoeia is typically associated with euphony and instrumentation, which are understandably connected with the activity of the Dadaists and Marinetti.187 187 Onomatopoeias also played an important function in poems by Russian Futurists and Khlebnikov, but would not comprise a significant postulate in their immanent For Author use only Dada-onomatopoeia? 279 Although onomatopoeias have appeared in speech and poetic language throughout history,188 this technique can have different functions, which are not always limited to simple gestures towards extralinguistic sounds; moreover, there are different ways to create poetic constructions of onomatopoetic character. As already mentioned,189 a significant role in Futurist poems is played by proper onomatopoeia, which used to be relatively rare in high literature. The question of onomatopoeia also emerged in the context of discussions about the Dadaist and Futurist carnival of phonemes, which nevertheless mostly concerns onomatopoeic constructions related to the theory developed by Marinetti. We should examine the question of Futurist onomatopoeia from a broader perspective, indicating additional contexts of using this specific device.190 The question of the onomatopoeic character of poetic language is all the more intriguing in the context of Polish Futurism because some of its programmatic texts contain the following arguments: “Once and for all we break away from all description (painting) on the one hand and on the other – from all onomatopoeia or imitation of natural sounds, along with similar tasteless props from the repertoire of pseudo-Futuristic neo-realism.”191 Still, onomatopoeia is one of the most eagerly employed devices in Polish Futurism.192 188 189 190 191 192 and self-declared poetics, as they do in Italian Futurism. It thus seems like a generalization to argue, as Heistein does, that Russian Futurism “does not really explore the topic of onomatopoeia” (Heistein, Wprowadzenie do literaturoznawstwa porównawczego, 128). we should mention in this context the onomatopoeic language developed by the Italian Futurist Fortunato Depèro, who imitated the sounds of nature and civilization (he formulated his theory in the years 1913–1914). See Fortunato Depèro, “L’onomalangue – Verbalisation abstraite (1916),” in Lista, Futurisme, 152. For examples of onomatopoeic work see Tadeusz Miczka, Czas przyszły niedokonany, 78–9; see also the phonetic poem by Francesco Canguillo “Canzona pirotecnica,” in Lista, Futurisme, 153. See Henri Morier, Dictionnaire de poétique et de rhétorique, Paris 1989, 829. See pp. 60–4. Remarks about the role and origin of onomatopoeia in works by Polish Futurists are contained in this part of the book because this question is closely related to the Futurist “Dadaization” of literature. Presented analyses are treated as an extended gloss to conclusions drawn so far and ones from Chapter Four regarding the Futurist onomatopoeization of poetic language. Jasieński, “Mańifest w sprawie poezji futurystycznej,” 20. Years after the movement ended, Stern concluded that “this manifesto opposed the ‘atmosphericity’ of music or even fought against ‘all natural sounds’ (in art) – it was a warning against onomatopoeic tendencies; in this area the Polish programme decidedly differed from similar foreign manifestoes” (Stern, “Futuryści polscy i inni,” 53; see also Adam Ważyk, Dziwna historia awangardy, Warszawa 1976, 84). According to Baczyński, in new poetry (not only in Futurism but also in works by Tuwim) “direct liveliness of experience, which could be reduced to verbs, is replaced by intensified onomatopoeia. Where the definition of an action or sound would obscure the impression, poets would repeat only sounds” (Stanisław Baczyński, For Author use only 280 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Marinetti described various levels of onomatopoeia. Literary scholars and linguists also identify various degrees of onomatopoeic constructions.193 However, the basis for such classifications can be very different. Imitating sounds encountered in the real world is considered to be one of the natural aspects of language, or more precisely – of the kind of language use in which “the point of departure is natural, whereas the final form … is conventional.”194 This section aims to demon­ strate that onomatopoeia does not necessarily have to rely on conventions in every case, but can involve various innovations that run counter to our habits. Naturally, not all Futurist poems employ inventive, previously unknown modes of onomatopoetic expression as is confirmed by analyses of various works that refer, in many ways, to the poetic style characteristic for Young Poland.195 Interestingly, traditional onomatopoeias also appear in poems that are in many respects highly unusual in terms of instrumentation, e.g. in “Śmierć maharadży” [Death of a maharaja] by Młodożeniec.196 Consider the following passage: – – Już szmer – – już szelest – – już szept – – szum – szat – sztylEtów biały szał. – [– – Already the murmur – – – already the rustle – – already the whisper – – the swoosh – of robes – white frenzy of daggErs.] (Młodoż., Up 82)197 This kind of onomatopoeia can be used without any knowledge of avant-garde poetics. Amassing frequently encountered onomatopoeias (which are additionally alliterative) would not puzzle anyone living before the interwar period, and would be certainly appreciated by the symbolists who cherished atmospheric poetry.198 193 194 195 196 197 198 Syty Paraklet i głodny Prometeusz (najmłodsza poezja polska), Kraków [undated], 29; emphasis preserved). See the entry “Wyrazy dźwiękonaśladowcze,” in Encyklopedia języka polskiego, eds. S. Urbańczyk, M. Kucała, Wrocław 1999, 428–9. Cf. also pp. 60–4 in this book. See the entry “Naturalne elementy w języku,” in Encyklopedia językoznawstwa ogól­ nego, ed. K. Polański, Wrocław 1999, 387. See sections three and four in Chapter One. The poem is discussed in detail on p. 363 ff. The arrangement of pauses after the original: Stanisław Młodożeniec, Kwadraty, Zamość 1925, 19. On the occasion of discussing relations between Polish Futurism and the phonosty­ listics from the turn of the centuries I mention many texts that employ onomatopoeias characteristic for Young Poland. In this part of the book it should be only noted For Author use only Dada-onomatopoeia? 281 Polish Futurist poetry often employs thoroughly plain, unsophisticated and non-symbolist (though not innovative either) combinations of onomatopoeias and colloquial prosaism (which was a semantic necessity). Consider the following passage from Czyżewski’s “Drzemka w kawiarni” [A nap in the café]: Brzęczą talerze bufetu ……………… Szumi wodociąg klozetu ……………… Smażone gdzieś czuć kotlety ……………… Trzech durniów czyta gazety [Plates are clinking on the counter ……………… The toilet waterworks are humming ……………… You can smell fried chops ……………… Three idiots are reading newspapers] (Czyż., Pipd 90) Sometimes, relatively traditional onomatopoeias appear in a surprising context, forming poems that verge on the absurd. Consider Stern’s “My na wsi” [We in the countryside]: o siano żaru na którym usta podamy sobie piersi i ciała! patelnio pola dzwoniąca i pusta na której będziesz z sykiem topniała! potem brzemienność kwietna i słońce schylone nad pieluszkami mokremi gdy gwiazdom szczekaniem nas witającym odpowiadają psy wszystkie z okrągłej ziemi… [o the hay of heat on which lips are joined, like breasts and bodies! o the empty, ringing frying pan of the field where you will melt, sizzling! that conventional onomatopoeias are found in poems such as “Strach,” “Wieczór letni,” “Taniec,” and “Medium” by Czyżewski, “ZemBy” by Jasieński and “Otchłań” by Młodożeniec. Passéist use of onomatopoeia would not always be a continuation of non-avant-garde poetics (e.g. “Drzemka w kawiarni” by Czyżewski and numerous texts described in Chapter One). For Author use only 282 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? then the flowery pregnancy and the sun stooping over the wet nappies where the stars greeting us with barking are answered by all dogs on the round earth…] (Stern, Wz 92; emphases added) This section attempts to characterize the kinds of onomatopoeic development of the poem’s sound dimension that can be deemed innovative in the Polish context. Among the aforementioned proper onomatopoeias199 we may indicate civi­ lizational ones, in accordance with Marinetti’s postulate about making references to modern technology. Still, there are surprisingly few of them in Futurist poems (especially in light of the movement’s name) and they usually constitute redundant elements in the overall message of the poem. They can underline the civilizational mood of these works, forming a modern staffage that accompanies certain scenes but never plays a crucial role. However, onomatopoeias do not comprise a “sine qua non figure” and are not text-forming factors. Neither are they surprising in terms of form because they employ sounds that often appear in such constructions.200 In Marinetti’s typology201 they could be classified as belonging to the first, lowest category of realistic constructions. A Futurist, proper onomatopoeia that imitates the sounds of some “special language”202 (e.g. the language of machines) can be found for example in one passage from “Wizja III” [Vision III] from Czyżewski’s Elektryczne wizje: Słyszę kiełkujący śpiew (z dala słychać zębaty jęk) ty r r r – hr r r [I can hear the budding song (a rack-and-pinion moan from afar) ty r r r – hr r r] (Czyż., Pipd 71) However, a different kind of onomatopoeic innovation turns out to be even more interesting. Polish Futurists would often create unusual sound imitations, different from well-established ones (e.g. “woof,” “meow,” “moo”) that describe the sounds of nature (usually animals)203 or musical instruments; finally, they would develop new onomatopoeias close to glossolalic constructions in which ties with extralinguistic sounds are particularly difficult to indicate. (Let us recall Młodożeniec and 199 Cf. the comments on pp. 60–4. 200 See the frequentative list of sounds in Polish onomatopoeias in Lucylla Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, Wrocław 1977, 28. 201 Cf. section two in this chapter. 202 Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna,” 7. 203 Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna,” 7. For Author use only Dada-onomatopoeia? 283 his “kwan, kliki, dlin, dlamy” from the poem “Iks”).204 It seems that the key avantgarde context for such devices is Dadaism. Dada compositions can be compared, in terms of onomatopoeia, with selected texts by Czyżewski. Consider the following passage from “Zegarek” [Watch]: 21 godzinę wskazuje zegarek mój idę bokami ulicy zawadziłem nogą o drzwi perukarza nowa sytuacja się stwarza i stąd nowy kierunek w poezji … w malarstwie nowy kierunek się stwarza idąc za wzorem innych wielkich przodków praszczurów pleo lub ichtiozaurów wielkich małp jaskiniowych i ich poezji mia – u mia – u ich poezji czi czi wesoło plujących czerwoną śliną ślimaków li li li li szczekającego mego przodka psa hyrr rrr rrr [It is 9 pm my watch shows I am walking down the side of the street I knocked against the door of the wig-maker a new situation is created and hence a new direction in poetry … a new direction in painting is created 204 Cf. the analysis of this poem in section 3C in Chapter One. For Author use only 284 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? following the model of other great ancestors forefathers pleo- or ichthyosauruses great cave apes and their poetry meo – w meo – w their poetry chi chi merrily spitting red spit snails lee lee lee lee my barking ancestor dog hyrr rrr rrr] (Czyż., Pipd 114–5; emphasis preserved) The poem contains surprising “liberated meanings:” slightly absurd phrases (“the snail merrily spitting with red spit”) and self-ironic (“my barking ancestor”), which are probably quite accurate in how they describe some of the avant-garde ambitions. Czyżewski did not make “animal speech” the main material in his text.205 The specific incoherence or semantic nonchalance (specific because the meaning of the poem is nevertheless clear) are emphasized by untypical onomatopoeias that imitate the sounds of animals.206 “Hyrr rrr rrr” is a novelty in comparison with the widespread “hau” [woof]. The onomatopoeia “czi czi” has not been really exploited in the Polish language. “Mia – u” would be entirely conventional (despite the unusual spelling) if it referred to cats, but in Czyżewski’s poem completely different creatures are meowing (“pleo- or ichthyosauruses / great cave apes” – perhaps a synecdoche of all animal ancestors). The unclear “li li li li,” which accompanies the “merrily spitting … snails,” forms a kind of synaesthesia, a sound signal of “slipperiness,” “sliminess,” “spit” and “snailiness” (which seems to reflect the silent, slimy existence of snails).207 Marta Wyka writes: 205 For this reason the piece cannot be considered a Polish version of the Italian onoma-language (see fn. 187). Czyżewski’s practice is also different from that of Khlebnikov, who eagerly noted down and semanticized animal voices. 206 See Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna,” 7. 207 Incidentally, the sound “i” is, besides “u,” the least sonorous vowel in Polish, while “l” is a consonant with a low degree of murmur, regarded as soft and gentle. See Michał Bristiger, Związki muzyki ze słowem, Warszawa 1986, 37; Ivan Fónagy, “Język poetycki – forma i funkcja,” trans. J. Lalewicz, Pamiętnik Literacki 2 (1972), 223; For Author use only Dada-onomatopoeia? 285 The postulate to attain alogical character is formed … on the spur of the moment. It naturally moves through various phases, reaching various degrees of intensity, but it always remains the synonym (and symbol) of a new understanding of the privileges of imagination. Words in freedom, shattering of literary material, gibberish of barbarians, or even the sounds of animals. In comparison with other poets Czyżewski vividly foregrounds the last element in this catalogue.208 The poem could be regarded as ludic and absurd, but contrary to what Wyka claims, it is certainly not alogical because its fundamental meanings are easily graspable. Czyżewski employed avant-garde methods and primitivist poetics209 but he did not pursue this path further, using literary freedom only to the extent to which it was beneficial to the poem, which contains a clear meta-artistic thesis. He admitted himself that “[w]‌ord as sound or suggestion, as an important voice of nature (the singing of birds, animal voices, chants of primitive human tribes) is the basis of poetic autonomy, opening entirely new, broad possibilities in poetry and prose.”210 Indeed, poems by Czyżewski employ onomatopoeias in an innovative way, taking specific constructions and giving them new qualities that elude classification. This can be also discerned in “Kocia serenada” [Cat serenade], in which onomatopoeic sequences are used as a kind of textual echolalia:211 208 209 210 211 Ivan Fónagy, “The Metaphor: a Research Instrument,” in Comprehension of Literary Discourse. Results and Problems of Interdisciplinary Approaches, eds. D. Meutsch, R. Vieho, Berlin 1989, 114. Marta Wyka, “Tytus Czyżewski,” Twórczość 1 (1978), 96. See Gazda, “Funkcja prymitywu,” 377. Qtd. after Wyka, “Tytus Czyżewski,” 96; emphasis added. It is worth remembering that Czyżewski was the first Polish translator of Apollinaire and was fascinated with Anthologie nègre by Cendrars (see Wyka, “Tytus Czyżewski,” 96). In certain poems, proper onomatopoeia is connected with the phenomenon of echolalia, defined as “repetition of identical or similar sound patterns as the main principle of organizing and developing the enunciation regardless of the language’s semantic rigours” (Michał Głowiński, “Echolalia,” in Słownik terminów literackich, ed. J. Sławiński, Warszawa 2000, 119). we should recall at this point Jasieński’s interesting sonic and visual experiment. In the graphically “wavy” poem “Morze” the sonic dominant consists in the numerously repeated “o,” whose function combines onomatopoeia, anaphora and echolalia. It is particularly worth noticing how the letter “o” or the motif of the circle is woven into specific lines (see Sterna-Wachowiak, Miąższ zakazanych owoców, 70; Sonia de Puineuf, “Quicksands of Typography: The Futurist Experience in Central Europe during the 1920s,” International Yearbook of Futurism Studies, Vol. 1, ed. G. Berghaus, Berlin 2011, 69). For Author use only 286 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Oa oa oa Koczur uczuwa miłość Ja w mym pokoju słyszę W lampę wtulony i ciszę Przeciągłe lubieżne mrau [Oa oa oa The tomcat feels love In my room I hear Nestling into lamp and silence A prolonged lecherous mraoo au au o – a – u aoo aoo o – a – oo Dach siny, księżyc wschodzący Kadryl szampańskie flasze Hotel kankana tańczący Blue roof, the rising moon Quadrille and champagne bottles The hotel doing the cancan Mrau au – u Mraoo aoo – oo … Leżę w samotnym pokoju I słucham jak koczur się drze Nerwy – ja się uduszę Mrau au au W bufecie piszczą flaszki Drin drin drin W kuchni parobków igraszki hi hi hi u i hi (Czyż., Pipd 59–61; emphasis preserved) … I lie alone in my room And listen to the tomcat bawling Nerves – I shall suffocate Mraoo aoo aoo Bottles squeal at the counter Dreen dreen dreen Farmhands having fun in the kitchen hee hee hee oo ee hee] Czyżewski consistently coins proper onomatopoeias, without naming sounds with well-established expressions, i.e. lexicalized words like “purr,” “growl,” “meow,” or “buzz.” Previous chapters discuss the differences in the reception of proper onomatopoeias and those that are full words in a given language (i.e. belong to the main lexical categories).212 The former are usually treated as culturally unprocessed “quotations from real life,” while the latter – as “tamed” elements of general language. Czyżewski attempts to renew literary language by creating new onomatopoetic constructions, which would be regarded as closer to nature, presenting its noises in “raw” and “unprocessed” manner. This technique clearly dynamizes and primitivizes the text, causing it to seem closer to everyday experience – a key Dada postulate regarding the liberation of art from rigid canons.213 Notably, onomatopoeias in “Kocia serenada” do not use sounds typical of constructions of this kind (e.g. sibilants or plosives).214 This does not come as a surprise, 212 For a detailed consideration see pp. 60–4. 213 See Richard Huelsenbeck, “Einleitung,” in Dada Almanach, 5–6; Zaworska, “Przygoda jednego pokolenia,” 79. 214 See Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 28; Bristiger, Związki muzyki ze sło­ wem, 36 ff. Classifications of sounds were most probably developed basing on analyses of onomatopoeias belonging to main lexical categories and not proper ones. For Author use only Dada-onomatopoeia? 287 however, if we acknowledge the specificity of imitated voices. Sequences like “au au o – a – u” or “au – u” perfectly render animal howling because the articulation of vowels can be freely prolonged (the same being possible only in the case of certain consonants).215 The use of vowels is another intriguing feature of onomato­ poeias found in this piece, because such constructions tend to utilize consonants, at least in the onset.216 Onomatopoeic and echolalic techniques in both of the above-quoted works are reminiscent of certain Dadaist constructions. Although Dada texts sometimes feature relatively conventional proper onomatopoeias (e.g. in passages from “Krippenspiel”),217 in many cases the use of onomatopoeia turns out to be “one-off” and does not follow any rules. Consider the poem “Rasoir Mécanique” [Mechanical razor] by Albert-Birot: Couchez vous sur le dos et comptez les feuilles des arbres DANS LA FORÊT UNE A UNE LES JEUNES FILLES ONT PASSÉ Splendeur des mondes verts unis aux mondes bleus ii iiiiiiiii i Forêts des elephantslionstigresserpentsetjaguars Vous êtes quelque part Cependant que je rêve à Clamart Forêts d’Asie UNE NOISETTE et des deux Ameriques PIGEON VOLE AVION VOLE PLOMB VOLE HI HI HI HI HI HA HA HA HA HA Incommensurabilité De notre eternité Blancheur et bleuité MARIE VIENS VOIR De l’insonorité Nous irons dans les gares Et dans des ports IL EST PASSÉ PAR ICI LE FURET DES BOIS MESDAMES IL EST PASSÉ PAR ICI 215 Another untypical onomatopoeia is found in the dramatic piece by Czyżewski Osioł i słońce w metamorfozie [Donkey and sun metamorphosing], where the part of the Frog contains the onomatopoeias “uag, uag” and “uak – uak – uak,” while the Donkey’s respons – “ua, ua, ua” (Czyż, Pipd 121, 131). 216 See Mirosław Bańko, Współczesny polski onomatopeikon. Ikoniczność w języku, Warszawa 2008. 217 Cf. section two in this chapter. For Author use only 288 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? En bateaux cheminsdefer A travers Terresetmers IL VA PLEUVOIR Pour voir POUR DADA AN AN AN AN AN AN AN AN AN AN AN IIII II POUH–POUH POUH–POUH RRRA sl sl sl drrrrr oum oum AN AN AN AN aaa aaaa aaa tzinn UII IIIII HA HA HA HA HA HA HA rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr é218 The first part of Albert-Birot’s text is comprised of semantically transparent, oneiric sentences interwoven with conventional onomatopoeias (“HI HI,” “HA HA”) and a surprising line of vowels (“i i i i i i”). The second part, which begins with the capitalized words “POUR DADA,” is practically an onomatopoeic and glossolalic carnival, in which any motivation seems difficult to establish. Notably, just like in “Kocia serenada,” the poem contains many vowels, sometimes not even accompanied by consonants (“I I I I,” “aaa aaaa,” etc.). Another poem that emerges as interesting in this context is a piece by Hans Arp, which balances nonsense, onomatopoeia and glossolalia. Jacques Bersani 218 Qtd. after Dada. Réimpression intégrale, 34–6. Reprinted after the magazine published by Tzara: Dada 2 (1917), 8. [Lie on your backs and count the leaves on trees / IN THE FOREST ONE AFTER ANOTHER / ARRIVED YOUNG GIRLS / Glorious green worlds united with blue ones / ii i i i i i i i i i i / Forests of elephantstigerssnakesjaguars / You are somewhere / While I dream of Clamart / Forests of Asia HAZELNUT and two Americas / PIGEON FLIES / PLANE FLIES / LEAD FLIES / HI HI HI HI HI HA HA HA HA HA / Immeasurable / Our eternity / White and blue / MARIE COME LOOK / From soundlessness / We will go to the station / And to the ports / SHE WALKED HERE / WEASEL FROM THE FOREST MY LADIES / SHE WALKED HERE / In ships and trains / Through / Landsandseas / IT WILL RAIN / To see; / FOR DADA / AN AN AN AN AN AN AN AN / AN AN AN / I I I I I I / PU–PU PU–PU RRRA / sl sl sl / drrrrr um um / AN AN AN AN / aaa aaaa aaa / tsinn UI I I I I I / HA HA HA HA HA HA HA / rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr é]. In French, the words “leaf” and “girl” are of feminine gender, which means that the phrase “une a une” (“one after another”) may refer to either of them. For Author use only Dada-onomatopoeia? 289 described it as “juggling not only words but also word parts as well as onomatopoeic expressions, exclamations and noises not codified in language:”219 lion de nuit é pli dépli ivri par pli débranche si pi si pli firi firi.220 Sequences and phonemes like “firi firi” and “pi” can be regarded as onomatopoeic. “Firi,” in turn, can be divided into two elements: “fi” (“yuck!”) and the participle “ri” (participe passé of “rire” – “to laugh”). “Si” and “pli,” which are full, nononomatopoeic words (“if,” “crease”), can be also read as specific, “one-off” onomatopoeias. The entire piece is semantically opaque, just like the composition by Albert-Birot. It is difficult not only to ascertain the role of onomatopoeia here, but even to identify onomatopoeic sequences within this text. Fascinating examples of onomatopoeic and glossolalic constructions that are difficult to decipher can be also found in the simultaneous poem “L’admiral cherche une maison à louer” [The admiral is looking for a house to rent] by Huelsenbeck, Janco and Tzara. The semantically absurd passage read by Huelsenbeck (during actual presentation it was overlaid with simultaneous singing or recitation by Janco and Tzara in English and French)221 includes the following sequence: Ahoi ahoi Des Admirals gwirktes Beinkleid schnell zerfällt Teerpappe macht Rawagen in der Nacht und der Conciergenbäuche Klapperschlangengrün sind milde ach verzerrt in der Natur chrza prrrza chrrrza prrrza chrrrza prrrza Wer suchet dem wird aufgetan Der Ceylonlöwe ist kein Schwan Wer Wasser braucht nd im Kloset zumeistens was er nötig hätt ahoi iuché ahoi iuché Find was er nötig hätt’ O süss gequollnes Stelldichein des Admirals im Abendschein uru uru uro uru uru uro uru uru uru uro pataclan patablan pataplan uri uri uro Der A e brüllt die Seekuh bellt im Lindenbaum der Schräg zerschellt tara-tata taratata tatatata.222 219 Jacques Bersani, “Arp et la poésie,” Cahiers Dada Surréalisme 2 (1968), 21. 220 Qtd. after Bersani, “Arp et la poésie.” The text is an almost untranslatable play with French sounds and morphemes. It contains numerous semantic ambiguities, while individual clusters of sounds can be grouped in different ways. In the first line, “é” is meaningless in itself but could be connected with “nuit.” Such “enclitics” would change the meaning of words since “nuitée” means “night at a hotel.” One can also add “é” to the noun “pli,” making it a prefix derived from the Latin “ex” – the coinage “épli” could be understood as a neologism “outwrinkle.” Another problematic sequence is “si pi si pli,” which could be variously translated: “if/yes pi if/yes wrinkle.” Both “si” and “pli” could be also regarded as proper onomatopoeias. 221 The Dadaist and bruitist chaos is already discernible in the visual composition; see DADA total, 86–87. 222 Qtd. after DADA total, 86–87; emphasis added. [Ahoy ahoy Admiral’s knit trousers fall apart quickly Byebye on the roof wreaks havoc in the night and green like For Author use only 290 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? The numerous unconventional constructions can be interpreted as onomatopoeic. They include sequences of either consonantal outline (“hoarse” ones: “chrrrca prrrca,” etc.) or vocalic ones (“uru uru uro”). Given the semantic obscurity of these sentences, non-verbal sequences of sounds – onomatopoeias, echolalias and perhaps glossolalias – gain significantly in meaning here, becoming fully-fledged components of the work’s message. In most Polish Futurist poems, we can distinguish onomatopoeias from glossolalias and echolalias that are not motivated by sound imitation. In Dadaist texts, on the other hand, this distinction is largely blurred. Furthermore, unlike the Dadaists, Polish Futurist poets never allowed experimentation to dominate the text; although their poems would often appear incomprehensible, none of them are as hermetic in terms of sound as the quoted text by Albert-Birot, for instance. Works by Czyżewski are great examples of innovative yet lucid compositions. While considering the Dadaist context of Futurist onomatopoeia it seems necessary to recall Czyżewski’s poem “Małpy w menażerii (Bajka bez sensu)” [Monkeys in a menagerie (A meaningless fairy tale)], which begins thus: W pewnym mieście z okolicą które stało się stolicą założono menażerię postawiono kiosk z małpami i innymi zwierzętami sześcio- czworo- dwu- nogami anal-fa-be-ta-a-ami Małpy: czirik… kacha hi hi… kacha hi hi… [In a certain city with a vicinity which became the capital a menagerie was founded and a monkey kiosk was installed with other animals too six- four- two-legged il-li-te-ra-a-te Monkeys go: chirik… rattlesnakes bellies of concierges are soft distorted in nature khrtsa prrrtsa khrrrtsa prrrtsa khrrrtsa prrrtsa Look and they will open for your Ceylon lion is no swan Who needs water finds usually in the WC what is needed ahoy iuché ahoy iuché Finds what is needed Oh sweet bursting tryst of the admiral in the evening ooroo ooroo ooro ooroo ooroo ooro ooroo ooroo ooroo ooro pataklan patablan pataplan ooree ooree ooro Monkey roars sea cow barks on a linden tree slantbird crashes tara-tata taratata tatatata]. For Author use only Dada-onomatopoeia? 291 katcha hee hee… katcha hee hee…] (Czyż, Pipd. 84; emphasis added) This beginning suggests that the texts constitutes a ludic, Dadaist-like, par excellence onomatopoeic composition. The phrases that imitate sounds are atypical, varied and rich (as if the language of apes was almost as nuanced as human speech), making them comparable to those contained for example in “Rasoir Mécanique.” They utilize sounds relatively frequent in onomatopoeic constructions (“tsch,” “r,” “k”)223 but the ones used here are by no means conventional. In further passages the text nevertheless reveals its genological features indicated in the title. It simply constitutes an animal fable that invites looking for actual heroes beyond the text. Czyżewski writes: …………………… Nic nie pomaga hałas się wzmaga …………………… Wtedy pewien osioł znany głupi lecz bardzo lubiany ruszył dowcipem dowcipnie… żadna małpa więcej, rzecze nie zipnie… gdy się w nich na wzór ludzi elegancję rozbudzi i da każdej po lusterku …………………… rada poskutkowała każda małpa lustro miała w lustrze się przezierała i odtąd cicho siedziała …………………… Nie myślcie – coście tu przyszli że was satyrą bawię i mam na myśli kogoś w Warszawie Broń Boże!… …………………… W tej bajce morał w tym sposobie że każda małpa myśli o sobie 223 See Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 28. For Author use only 292 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? […………………… Nothing helps noise intensifies …………………… Then a certain well-known jackass foolish yet fondly liked wittily started with a joke… not a single monkey more, he says will breathe a word… when following the example of people they discover elegance and receive a mirror each …………………… the advice worked every monkey had a mirror and kept looking into it and has since stayed silent …………………… You came here, do not think I am amusing you with satire having in mind someone in Warsaw God forbid!… …………………… In this fable the moral lies in the way that monkeys think only of themselves] (Czyż., Pipd 85) Similar proper onomatopoeias – ludic and unconventional – constitute the echolalic encrustation of the fictionalized syllabotonic poem by Młodożeniec titled “Ziabia ballada” [Frog ballad]. Consider several stanzas of this sonically distinct text, which features not only onomatopoeias but also numerous alliterations, paronomasias and lexical repetitions: umiżdżona cudza żona klap po wodzie – plusk po wodzie …czik – czik rik – czik czik – dobrodziej… – komuś – czo? czo? czo? kumeńku bałoniasta kuma szasta – …pomaleńku… …potroszeńku… klap po wodzie plusk po wodzie kuma kuma za nos wodzi tu czik – rik – czik tam rik – czik – czik czik… co szkodzi?… For Author use only Dada-onomatopoeia? 293 tam się kiwa mąż jak rabin – na zielonym zielu ziabim wciąż ciam – riam – ciam – wciąż riam – ciam – ciam – – – [the preened wife of another clap on the water – plop on the water tchick – tchick rick – tchick tchick – patron… – for somebody – what? what? what? godfather the godmother is hanging around – …slowly… …bit by bit… clap on the water plop on the water godmother is leading godfather by the nose here chick – rick – tchick there rick– tchick – tchick tchick… what’s the harm…? there the husband is swaying like a rabbi – on a green froggy weeds all the time smack llap smack all the time llap – smack – smack – – –] (Młodoż., Up 64; emphasis added) “Ziabia ballada” and “Małpy w menażerii” demonstrate that in the context of Polish poetry using onomatopoeic constructions that seemed unusual in their time does not necessarily make the entire text innovative. Other fascinating instances of creating and functionalizing onomatopoeia are contained in Czyżewski’s “Pastorałki (misterium)” [Pastorals (mystery play)] from the volume Pastorałki. One important aspect of this composition is its imitation of musical instruments. In this relatively long poem that contains many lines written in regular language, the most distinct passage in terms of onomatopoeia is: PROLOG I … szli do Betleem całą hurmą, weselem całym stadem, kierdelem z doliny w dolinę z polany w polanę … BASY hudu – hudu – hu maju graju – u Panu Bogu Chrystu Panu gramy mu For Author use only 294 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? SKRZYPCE tiri, tiri, tili, tili zagrajmy se w tej to chwili wili li wili od o-zorzy do wilii KOBZA me – e – le – me kozu – be – kozu – me buli-wybuli mojej kozuli KLARYNET mula – ula u la la matulina matula kolebina, koleba telebina, teleba u – la – la BASY Panu Bogu Chrystu Panu gramy mu KLARYNET kolebina – koleba matulina – matula kolebina – koleba [PROLOGUE I … they walked to Bethlehem a horde, a wedding a herd, a flock from valley to valley from glade to glade … DOUBLE BASSES hoodoo – hoodoo – hoo ma yoo play – ooo To our Lord Christ we play VIOLIN teeree, teeree, teelee, teelee let us play now evee lee evee from daybreak to the eve For Author use only Dada-onomatopoeia? 295 BAGPIPE Baa – ba – bleat – baa goatie – aa – goatie – baa cough-cough up to my goat CLARINET ommy ommy oo la la mummy mommy la cradle craddyla lully lullyla oo – la – la DOUBLE BASSES To our Lord Jesus Christ we play CLARINET cradle craddyla mummy mommy la lully lullyla] (Czyż., Pipd 195–7; emphasis added)224 “Pastorałki (misterium)” requires adopting several perspectives of interpretation as the poem needs to be read in the contexts of folk literature225 and in the light of Dadaism. The piece appears to be close to folk models, although this kind of literature rarely features onomatopoeias that imitate the sound of musical instruments. Is it thus a case of Dada-like faux folklore that the audience regards, for reasons difficult to grasp, almost as an authentic folk piece? Probably not. Folk connotations are confirmed by the poem’s adherence to the genre of the pastoral,226 while the motivation behind specific onomatopoeic constructions is strongly rooted in peasant culture and has two basic dimensions. First, folk literature is predominantly oral and closely connected to music. It is often the case that in performances of specific works (e.g. songs) the instrumental part is just as important as the sung text (the singer “lays” the lyrics to the music and then, during the time necessary to sing these lines, only the instrument is heard, the whole cycle being repeated many times). Without music folklore is largely dead, becoming a museum-like record. In the pastoral by Czyżewski the assignment of such important roles to clarinet, double bass and bagpipe parts seem 224 We should recall the arrangement of text in the volume Pastorałki (Paris 1925 [pages unnumbered]). “Prolog I” was printed on the left hand side of an almost square page, while the glossolalic conversations of the instruments – on the right. Numerous pauses and commas provide more light on the right hand side, creating clear contrast between the left side (written using literary language with some features of folklore) and the glossolalic right. 225 Cf. Chapter Four. 226 Cf. fn. 76. For Author use only 296 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? tied to the place held by music in folk culture. If the artistic goal is to create a living piece that corresponds to folk-like ritual it becomes impossible to disregard this issue. The introduction of dialogic instrumental parts expressed in onomatopoeic and glossolalic language recreates, to a degree, the real context of presenting a folk text. Paradoxically, the peculiarity of this poetic device (from the perspective of high literature) makes the Futurist poem additionally innovative and modern. One also needs to remember that the relatively rare earlier literary examples of onomatopoeias imitating music can be found in folk carols and pastorals, although they are less complex than the poem by Czyżewski.227 Consider the following pas­ sage from a Christmas song: Wach do swoich basów, przypiął sześć kiełbasów, Wesoło, wesoło, Woś na swéj oboi, wielkie figle stroi, Nuż w koło, nuż w koło: Ru, ru, ru, Wach na swoim basie, Dil dil dil, Krążel na kiełbasie, Ha są są, ha są są.228 [The man plugged six susages to his double-bass, Merry, merry, Another is playing tricks on his oboe, To the circle, to the circle: Roo, roo, roo, the man on the double-bass, Deel deel deel, other one on sausage, Ha pom pom, ha pom pom.] Another problem is the functioning of glossolalia and echolalia in folklore. Incomprehensible, mysterious and half-magical language would play a key role in folk literature.229 Repeated clusters of sounds, which Czyżewski used to repre­ sent the language of instruments, perfectly match the folk tradition of repeating unintelligible words in songs: words formed ab ovo or constructed by referencing lexemes (sometimes obsolete archaisms) in distorted form. 227 One onomatopoeic “conversation among instruments” (although not composed of onomatopoeic words) at a countryside wedding sounds: “SKRZYPCE / Będziem jedli, będziem pili, / Będziemy się weselili! // BASETLA / Jak Bóg da, jak Bóg da!” (qtd. after Jan S. Bystroń, Komizm, Wrocław 1960, 389; see also other examples he quotes). Old Polish conversations among instruments at the court were different – see Joanna Maleszyńska, “Staropolskie wiersze muzyczne,” in Wariacje na temat. Studia literackie, eds. J. Abramowska, A. Czyżak, Z. Kopeć, Poznań 2003, 130–3. This theme is also used by Bruno Jasieński in folkloristically stylized passages from Słowo o Jakubie Szeli. Cf. section four in Chapter Four. 228 “Kolenda 68.,” in Pastorałki i kolendy, 194. 229 Glossolalic “words” (e.g. “lelum, ładom,” described as an obscure echo of names of pagan deities) would appear in songs accompanying important rituals. See Julian Przyboś, Jabłoneczka. Antologia polskiej pieśni ludowej, Warszawa 1953, 145. For Author use only Dada-onomatopoeia? 297 As Jarosiński notes in his discussion of “Pastorałki:” The difference between linguistic signs and pure sounds becomes blurred here (as in children’s enumerations, which can also sometimes contain nonsensical or meaningless words, because they favour speech in itself and maintaining regular rhythm). Thus, language loses almost all of its symbolic values, limiting itself to naming or indicating objects. In this way, word becomes very much like a gesture.230 Still, language and semantics are present in even the most alogical parts of the pastoral. In their partially glossolalic and onomatopoeic parts, musical instruments focus on various semantic fields indicated by roots used in these constructions. A substantial role is also played by the phonic shape of the conversation held by double bass, violin and clarinet – a musical exchange that is neither fully comprehensible nor thoroughly asemantic. Illustration 7. Tadeusz Makowski, woodcut in the volume Pastorałki by Tytus Czyżewski, Polskie Towarzystwo Przyjaciół Książki, Paris 1925, 29. 230 Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” cvii. For Author use only 298 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? First, the double bass announces – in the most general way, supported by the booming and “dark”231 sound “hudu – hudu” – that one should play for Jesus Christ. Then, after the sonically expressive “tiri, tiri”232 and the softer “tili, tili” (due to the sound “l”)233 the violin makes it clear that music ought to be made from morning till evening. Notably, the transition from the onomatopoeically sounding “wili li wili” to the more semantic phrase “do wilii” refers to playing till Christmas Eve (“Wigilia” or “Wilia” in Polish). Another interesting distortion occurs when words spoken by the bagpipe in fact transform into noises made by a goat. The bagpipe first makes sounds close to bleating and then the onomatopoeic record employs the cluster “kozu,” which finally acquires the genitive form of the noun “kozula” (dialectal “goat”). Furthermore, the clarinet introduces the context of motherhood; just like in the case of the violin, its sound shifts from an asemantic sequence (“mula – ula u la la”) to the more meaningful “matulina matula” [mummy mommy]. Staying in the same semantic field, the poem invokes the words “kolebka” and “kołyska” [cradle] (as the clarinet puts it: “kolebina, koleba”).234 It is more difficult to interpret the analogically formed words “telebina, teleba,” which may be read as referring to “telebanie” or “telepanie” [lulling, rocking], alluding to the movement of the cradle or to prayer-like swaying (one might exclude in this context the process of naming modern inventions using the Greek prefix “tele-”). In effect, the poet develops constructions bordering on language, onomatopoeia and glossolalia.235 Forms like “matulina,” “matula,” “koleba,” and “kozula” can be undoubtedly viewed as regular words, although the suffixes “-ina” and “-ula” are relatively rare in today’s Polish. Sequences like “hudu – hudu – hu” or “tiri, tiri, tili, tili” can be seen as motivated primarily by an onomatopoeic function. Devices used by Czyżewski intriguingly reflect (as it were, a tergo) one of the processes in which glossolalias are spontaneously formed from meaningful words 231 Features arising from the characteristics of the sound “u” (basing on: Fónagy, The Metaphor, 114). 232 For more on the expressive character of the sound “r,” see fn. 397. On the other hand, articulation of “t” produces ample murmur (see Bristiger, Związki muzyki ze słowem, 37). 233 See fn. 207. 234 “Kolebać” means “to rock.” One passage from a popular folk lullaby “Kotki” “[A a a, kotki dwa…]” is “Jak się kotki rozigrały, to dziecinkę kolebały” [After playing around, the cats rocked the baby] (qtd. after Przyboś, Jabłonka, 317). 235 An interesting combination of proper onomatopoeia and regular words in a poem devoted to similar matters can be traced in a passage from the song “[W dzień Bożego Narodzenia…]” in Antologia poezji dziecięcej, ed. J. Cieślikowski, Wrocław 1981, 360 (Cieślikowski quotes after Oskar Kolberg): “Wróbel, ptaszek nieboraczek, / Uziąbłszy, śpiewa jak żaczek: / Dziw, dziw, dziw, dziw, dziw, nad dziwy, / Narodził się Bóg prawdziwy. // A mazurek z swoim synem, / Tak świergoce za kominem: / Cierp, cierp, cierp, cierp, miły Panie, / Póki ten mróz nie ustanie.” For Author use only Dada-onomatopoeia? 299 and phrases.236 Notably, the glossolalic quasi-words, which sonically approximate regular words probably lying at their root (just like “barana” and “psi” in the poem quoted below), are also encountered in folk literature. Consider the example of a lullaby about a sheep and a wolf: A – a bzi bziana, porwał wilczek barana, a owieczkę psipsi psi, a ty, Józiu, śpij, śpij, śpij. Bzii – bzi – bziibianka bziibzianka, porwał wilczek baranka (bis)237 [A – a bzee bziana, a wolf abducted a ram and a sheep dogsdogs dogs, and you, Józio, sleep, sleep, sleep. Bzeee – bzee – bzeeebianka bzeeebzianka, a wolf abducted a little sheep (encore)] Wyka notes: First of all, … the cycle by Czyżewski can be situated in close relation to a movement that resonated very poorly in Poland. I mean Dadaism and its infantile arbitrariness, search for random poetry formed solely on the basis of the words’ sound. Pastorałki by Czyżewski are not Dadaist to the extent represented by Tuwim’s volume Słopiewnie, despite the fact that Czyżewski consciously employed infantile-like sequences of sounds that are not very meaningful and often simply constitute child-like onomatopoeias. In one mystery play, a folk band is playing for baby Jesus, with “klarynet” [the clarinet] making the following sounds: mula–ula matulina u la la matula.238 Contrary to what Wyka argues, however, “Pastorałki (misterium)” cannot be regarded as an instance of random poetry. As analysis shows, the text’s alleged Dadaism can be perfectly well explained in terms of folk stylization, while apparently arbitrary elements turn out to be meaningful in the poem’s structure, additionally facilitating the interpretation that they constitute an avant-garde 236 See Joanna Pollakówna, “Malarze i podpalacze,” in Sztuka XX wieku. Materiały Sesji Stowarzyszenia Historyków Sztuki, Warszawa 1971, 192–3; Cieślikowski, Wielka zabawa, 244. 237 Qtd. after Cieślikowski, Wielka zabawa, 80; emphasis added. 238 Wyka, “ ‘Pastorałki’ Czyżewskiego,” 34–5. For Author use only 300 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? continuation of historical literary structures (pastoral, folk song).239 Certainly, Tuwim’s Słopiewnie cannot be regarded as Dadaist because these poems are deeply rooted in the Polish language and thoroughly (as well as masterfully) follow its rules of word formation, inflection and syntax. Naturally, one can also discern in Czyżewski certain echoes of Dadaism. The poet plays with words and glossolalic quasi-words, turning the bagpipe into a bleating goat, coining neologisms and introducing unconventional onomatopoeias. In the Polish work, the primitivism that fascinated the Dadaists meets Polish folklore, but upon closer inspection it is revealed that this kind of primitivism is actually premeditated. The alleged Dadaism of Pastorałki is kept on the tight rein of semantics and folklore. At first sight, the poem appears similar to compositions by Tzara or Ball, but analysis nevertheless shows that it does follows rules, which have been only cunningly hidden behind primitivizing constructions. Let us return briefly to Ball’s “Krippenspiel.” The nativity play would not be complete without animals adoring Jesus; accordingly, the text features mooing calves (“muu muu muu muu muu”), braying donkeys (“iha, iha, iha, iha”) and bleating sheep (“bee, bee, bee”). The poem also records the howling wind: “f f f f f f f f f f f t t,” “sudden silence” (in the line comprised only by hyphens), glossolalic conversations (Joseph and Mary: “ramba ramba ramba ramba ramba – m – bara”) and finally – as in the case of Czyżewski – onomatopoeic approximations of musical instruments (the trumpets going “Tataaaaaaaaaaaa! Tataaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”). Thus, as I demonstrated, the entire composition is coherent in its own way. The sounds of music, rendered much more simply than in Czyżewski’s piece, are accompanied by a mighty, bruitist and specifically arranged “hurricane of phonemes.”240 Still, “Krippenspiel” ignores the decorum of nativity plays (and more broadly, any literary or cultural decorum), indulging in avant-garde play with the artistic convention announced by the title and the choice of protagonists. Another interesting context for the interpretation of “Pastorałki (misterium)” is that of Dadaist simultaneous poems: strongly glossolalic works composed of several independent parts usually written in different languages and recited simultaneously by several performers.241 Below is a passage from the already cited poem by Huelsenbeck, Janco and Tzara “L’admiral cherche une maison à louer,” 239 This problem is discussed more broadly in Chapter Four. 240 Dadaist bruitism is interestingly described in the context of jazz and musique con­ crète in Klein, Blaukopf, “Dada and Music,” 88–97. 241 Lehnert considers such pieces to be simultaneously humorous and tragic because they have no specific message, are not mimetic, while their individual parts (read at the same time by different people) do not match. “Humour,” he argues, “could acquire tragic meaning when human words are muffled by other, noisy sounds” (Lehnert, “Nihilismus, Anarchismus, DADA,” 1038; see also Kupczyńska, “Kakofonia wielkiego miasta”). For Author use only 301 Dada-onomatopoeia? which comprises a score for five instruments and/or voices. This passage is titled “Intermède rythmique” [Rhythmic interlude]: HUELSENBECK TZARA hihi Yabomm hihi Yabomm ff p cresc ff cresc rouge bleu rouge bleu rouge bleu rouge bleu rouge bleu p f cresc ff cresc fff hihi ff f hihi hihiiiii SIFFLET (Janko) –––---–--––.––––--––-----–.–--.––.––––--––--––.––––-. cresc f ff fff CLIQUETTE (TZ) rrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrr rrrrrrrrrr f decrescf cresc fff uniform GROSSE CAISE (Huels.) OOO OOOOO OOOOO OOOO OO ff p f fff p242 p Just like the text by Czyżewski, this Dadaist piece features onomatopoeias imitating the sounds of musical instruments. However, the whistle (Janco), the rattle (Tzara) and the drum (Huelsenbeck) do not work together to form a composition following genological and aesthetic conventions. Moreover, the partial use of musical score is predominantly teasing since the poetic score contains, among other things, ludic onomatopoeic exclamations like “hihi Yabomm” and terms referring to colours, possibly suggesting synaesthesia. The onomatopoeic passage does not carry any specific semantic associations, constituting rather a specific rendering of sounds and noises.243 In the context of recalled Dadaist examples, one cannot regard the text by Czyżewski as representing Dadaist “laxity” in terms of sound. Comparative analysis reveals fundamental differences in the construction and function of onomatopoeic sequences in “Pastorałki (misterium)” or Dadaist texts and – more broadly – compositional dissimilarities between them. It remains a fact, however, that the onomatopoeic constructions in the Polish piece constitute an example of startling innovation on the part of Czyżewski, who combines tradition with experimentation.244 Let us gather the conclusions that can be drawn from the analysis of Futurist onomatopoeia, which had been “suspected of Dadaism.” In Dadaism, constructions verging on onomatopoeia, glossolalia and echolalia (often forming a phonic knot that is difficult to disentangle) are much more frequent than unconventional onomatopoeias in Polish Futurism. The Polish movement is represented in this respect 242 Qtd. after DADA. 113 Gedichte, 76–7 (also published in DADA total, 86–7). 243 In the “Note pour les bourgeois” [Note to the middle-class] Tzara explains that the text should not be treated as an attempt to introduce strictly musical description into literature (DADA. 113 Gedichte, 87–8). 244 It is worth adding that the specific Franciscanism of Czyżewski would be far less probable and less clear in, say, Protestant Switzerland. For Author use only 302 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? mainly by Czyżewski since texts by other authors rarely contain such far-reaching novelties in the use of onomatopoeia. Sound imitation sequences in his works can be variously compared with Dadaist pieces. We may indicate similarities regarding the shape of onomatopoeic structures in Dadaist works and ones by Polish Futurists, as well as semantic resemblances in many cases. In both cases we encounter constructions verging on onomatopoeia and echolalia as well as ones reproducing the sounds of animals or musical instruments. However, in Polish poems these formations sometimes become similar – as in “Pastorałki (misterium)” – to regular words relevant in a given context, which almost never happens in Dadaist works. Further differences emerge in terms of the function of onomatopoeic techniques in Dadaist and Polish poems. In works by Ball, Tzara, Janco and Huelsenbeck, onomatopoeias constitute one of the significant elements of the bruitist “tangle” of sounds, even if consistently framed in literary forms referencing tradition, e.g. nativity plays. In Polish texts, onomatopoeias are invariably a sonic staffage accompanying content expressed in grammatically correct words and sentences, without dominating the poems.245 Still, without onomatopoeias these works would not be so distinct in semantic terms. In “Pastorałki (misterium),” the sound sequences that imitate musical instruments modernize an older genre, substituting music, which is indispensable for full reception of folk art. In this case, both the construction and function of onomatopoeia differ from what we encounter in Dadaist works. However, it sometimes happens that – unlike in Dadaist pieces – onomatopoeic passages that seem to indicate adherence to Dadaist principles become part of a more conventional text, as in “Małpy w menażerii” by Czyżewski and “Ziabia ballada” by Młodożeniec. These are ludic, humorous works (just like many Dadaist texts), yet they either remain within a rigid genre-based framework that is much clearer than in “Pastorałki (misterium)” or adhere to versification principles in the case of poems by Młodożeniec. Finally, we should underline that innovative onomatopoeic constructions described here are proper onomatopoeias rarely encountered in earlier high poetry.246 They are usually realistic247 and formed on the basis of sounds that do not occur in typical onomatopoeias, causing the discussed Futurist texts to be regarded mainly as modern, pioneering and surprising. However, closer analysis reveals their deep ties with variously functionalized literary canons, either through traditionalist imitation or creative continuation, e.g. in “Małpy w menażerii” and “Pastorałki (misterium)” by Czyżewski. 245 In “Pastorałki (misterium),” which is widely discussed here, onomatopoeias are merely the staffage in a larger, semantically coherent work (only one passage is quoted in this study). 246 Cf. pp. 60–4, 145. 247 Cf. Marinetti’s classification introduced in the previous section. For Author use only Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? 303 4. P  ure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin?248 In 1924, Karol Irzykowski made the following comment about the majority of Polish literature at that time: What we encounter is a thicket or a quagmire that needs to be avoided or leaped over because it is impassable and in most cases it seems fitting to turn away. … More rubbish can be uttered by a fool in five minutes than a wise person can discover in five years.249 In the years following the First World War it was the Futurists who created the greatest number of thickets, quagmires, and rubbish in poetry. Irzykowski complained primarily about the impossibility to find a key to new literature. This part of the book aims to verify whether the Futurists have actually left us any hints how to unlock their semantically opaque poetry and whether these are not Dadaist lockpicks, the crucial concept being pure nonsense. 248 Parts of this section were published as: Beata Śniecikowska, “Foniczne meandry purnonsensu – o poezji polskiego futuryzmu i europejskiego dada,” in Odcienie humoru, eds. S. Dżereń-Głowacka, A. Kwiatkowska, Piotrków Trybunalski 2008. 249 Karol Irzykowski, “Niezrozumialstwo,” Wiadomości Literackie 38 (1924), 1 (reprinted in expanded form in Słoń wśród porcelany. Lżejszy kaliber, 67–78). His claims sparked a lot of controversy in the 1920s. Naturally, most of these articles should not be directly tied with the question of pure nonsense in literature. It is nevertheless worth to remember that “obscurity” was at that time an issue hotly debated among literary critics, with the most interesting voices in discussion being: Jerzy Hulewicz, “Zrozumialstwo,” Wiadomości Literackie 40–42 (1924), 2; Maria J. Wielopolska, “Maniery resorbcyjne w literaturze,” Wiadomości Literackie 44 (1924), 1; Jan N. Miller, “O niezrozumiałej zarozumiałości arcyzrozumialstwa,” Wiadomości Literackie 45 (1924), 2; Stanisław I. Witkiewicz, “O wstrętnym pojęciu ‘niezrozumialstwa’,” in Bez kompromisu, 228–9 (originally printed in Przegląd Wieczorny 143 [1927], 3); Stanisław I. Witkiewicz, “Dalszy ciąg o wstrętnym pojęciu ‘niezrozumialstwa’,” in Bez kompromisu, 233–8 (originally printed in Przegląd Wieczorny 148 [1927], 4); Stanisław I. Witkiewicz, “Wstęp do rozważań nad ‘niezrozumialstwem’,” in Bez kompromisu, 224–7 (originally printed in Przegląd Wieczorny 137 [1927], 3). See also Irzykowski’s responses: “Inter augures. Słaba odpowiedź opuszczonego zrozumialca,” Wiadomości Literackie 50 (1924), 1 (reprinted in a broader version in Irzykowski, Słoń wśród porcelany, 78–90); “Niezrozumialstwo, metafory i kto nie będzie rozstrzelany,” Pion 52 (1935), 17; “Opowiedzieć własnymi słowami,” in Walka o treść. Beniaminek, ed. A. Lam, Kraków 1976, 215–7; “Niezrozumialcy,” in Czyn i słowo, Kraków 1980, 450–83. The discussion about “obscurity” is broadly summarized (with a large bibliography) in Włodzimierz Bolecki, Poetycki model prozy w dwudziestoleciu międzywojennym, Kraków 1996, 331–6. See also Aleksander Wat, Dziennik bez samogłosek, ed. K. Rutkowski, Warszawa 1990, 152–6; Sylwia Panek, “Papuas merytoryzmu contra Szkoła Szczekających Bocianów,” in Od tematu do rematu. Przechadzki z Balcerzanem, Poznań 2007, 411–21. For Author use only 304 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? The following discussed poems should be clearly distinguished from texts already analysed in this chapter and referred to as carnivalesque arrangements of phonemes (and more rarely – of morphemes) either in their entirety or at least in large parts comprised by echo- or glossolalias. Pure nonsense verse is defined here as the kind of poetry that cannot be logically explicated in semantic terms yet one employing regular words, at least relatively understandable neologisms, and a certain number of glossolalic constructions. Works that are almost entirely echolalic or contain semantically opaque quasiwords that do not form recognizable syntactic structures cannot be deemed as representative of pure nonsense, if we understand this form as a “kind of joke, in which the comical effect is rooted in blatant ludicrousness – surprisingly illogical associations of concepts that appear unmotivated, violate common sense and are disinterestedly absurd.”250 Still, it seems difficult to speak of the ludicrousness of associations, word patterns or grammatical constructions in an entirely incomprehensible text.251 Meaninglessness is thus by no means a synonym of pure nonsense. Recalling the argumentation presented in the Chapter Two, we can claim that słopiewnie and – to a lesser degree – namopaniki can be vehicles of pure nonsense, but this is impossible in the case of incomprehensible mirohłady.252 The understanding 250 Janusz Sławiński, “Pure nonsense,” in Słownik terminów literackich, ed. J. Sławiński, 456. See also Jarosław Płuciennik, “Awangardowy ‘święty bełkot’ Wata,” in Szkice o poezji Aleksandra Wata, eds. J. Brzozowski, K. Pietrych, Warszawa 1999, 23–8. 251 Thus, even the mirohład by Hausmann titled “Seelen-Automobil” [The automobile of the soul] would not be an example of pure nonsense, although it suggests ludic meanings (in the title) and makes cultural references in the form of glossolalias (resembling Greek morphemes): “Solao Solaan Alamt / lanee leneao amamb / ambi ambée enebemp / enepao kalopoo senou / seneakpooo sanakoumt / saddabt kadou koorou / korrokoum oumpaal / lapidadkal adathoum / adaneop ealop noamth” (qtd. after Heissenbüttel, “Versuch über die Lautsonate,” 9; also published in DADA. 113 Gedichte, 102). See Liede, Dichtung als Spiel, 9–10. 252 A certain terminological inaccuracy needs to be indicated. Works of interest to this study are referred to using either “nonsense” or “pure nonsense.” From the perspective of communication problems, “nonsense” is literally “lack of sense,” pertaining to “expressions that are not meaningful in a given language, including sounds and sound clusters that are not words in a given language” (Eugeniusz Grodziński, Zarys teorii nonsensu, Wrocław 1981, 28). In the history of literature, “nonsensical literature” usually refers to ludic texts that employ lexemes and enunciations of distinct, often humorous meaning (also humorously incoherent) combined with structures of unclear (yet often humorous) motivation that can be only vaguely sensed by readers. Therefore, glossolalic incantations are not a subcategory of nonsensical literature. It seems appropriate the preserve this distinction, which is rooted largely in scholarly usage (i.e. the distinction between nonsensical poetry that involves absurd semantics and texts comprised almost entirely of asemantic, glossolalic constructions) due to significant differences between works representative of these two For Author use only Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? 305 of pure nonsense assumed here can be related to the tradition established by Edward Lear, Gilbert Keith Chesterton, Ogden Nash and Lewis Carroll.253 Polish Futurism abounds in works that employ pure nonsense defined in the above way, with unusual semantics accompanied by numerous orchestration devices. Tomasz Burek notes: The art of homo ludens – an art imbued with ludic and vulgar elements, understood as self-therapy, or a countermeasure to “melodramatic” accounts of contemporary life – was the conscious goal of Polish Futurists, as recorded in their manifestoes and programmatic remarks. They primarily wished to overcome the “martyred” model of Young Polish literature and the traditional gestures of poetic “pains” and “sorrows” that were first challenged by the Skamander poets, who nevertheless could not overcome them. … The Futurist response to civilizational dangers was to propose art based on premeditated nonsense and free play of associations, employing astonishment and surprise as well as shock and eroticism as a means of sensual refreshment and joy, ultimately turning to the unconscious as the source of creative disorder.254 Although the Futurists would postulate that art should replace ecstasy with intellect, they also claimed: “we praise reason and thus reject logic, a cowardly categories. In connection with the questions addressed here it seems safer to employ the term “pure nonsense,” which is usually defined along the lines of Sławiński, “Pure nonsense.” For example, Delaperrière, Polskie awangardy, 128–41, does not clearly distinguish between pure nonsense and senselessness, which considerably impoverishes his analyses; for example, he considers certain poems by Polish Futurists to be nonsensical although they are entirely coherent in semantics terms. See Delaperrière, Polskie awangardy, 134–5. 253 The problem of (pure) nonsense is regarded similarly by Wim Tigges, author of the thorough study titled An Anatomy of Literary Nonsense (Amsterdam 1988). He argues that the “tension between reality and language, which is at the same time a tension between meaning and non-meaning, is what distinguishes nonsense literature from purely linguistic wordplay, on the one hand, and from realistic or mimetic literature on the other” (87). See also Dieter Petzold, Formen und Funktionen der englischen Nonsense-Dichtung im 19. Jahrhundert, Nürnberg 1972, 2; Liede, Dichtung als Spiel, 157–204; The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, eds. A. Preminger, T. V. F. Brogan, Princeton 1993, 839–40. My understanding of “pure nonsense poetry” coincides with the third meaning of nonsense defined by J. T. Shipley in Dictionary of World Literary Terms, ed. J. T. Shipley, London 1979, 214. This interpretation of pure nonsense is also used by Tomasz Bocheński in the book Czarny humor w twórczości Witkacego, Gombrowicza, Schulza, Kraków 2005, 34, 36, 84, 102, 117, 163–4. Great examples of comic absurdity are also provided in Fioletowa krowa. Antologia angielskiej i amerykańskiej poezji niepoważnej, ed. S. Barańczak, Poznań 1993. 254 Tomasz Burek, “Futuryzm,” in Lektury i problemy, ed. J. Maciejewski, Warszawa 1976, 263–4; emphasis added. See also Zaworska, “Przemiany polskiego futuryzmu,” 365; Venclova, Aleksander Wat, 53. For Author use only 306 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? limitation of the mind. Nonsense is glorious due to its untranslatability, which emphasizes our creative scope and strength.”255 Certainly, Dadaism is not the only context for pure nonsense as confirmed by the inevitable references to Lear, Nash, or numerous earlier, often anonymous authors. This kind of literature has existed for centuries before the avant-garde (there are many folk texts that employ comic absurdity).256 In the twentieth cen­ tury, however, different and variously functionalized alogical textual configurations became particularly popular. Avant-garde writers from the beginning of the twentieth century found a good match in the poetics of nonsense.257 When describing this dimension of avantgarde practices, we must nevertheless modify the interchangeable scholarly usage258 of the terms nonsense and pure nonsense as the former would not always be ludic, often having little to do with comic absurdity. In Dadaism and even more 255 Stern, Wat, “Prymitywiści,” 6. Remarks by Irzykowski appear intriguing in this context: “What is currently happening in poetic laboratories can be described as a sudden reshuffling of various concepts made just to see what comes out of that. But all it takes is to put a shoe to the moon and ‘something’ will always emerge, something weird and unexpected. A kaleidoscope of words for kids. A green diarrhoea of associations” (Irzykowski, “Niezrozumialstwo,” 1; emphasis added). Witkacy, on the other hand, differentiated between “realistic nonsense” (or even “hideous naturalistic nonsense”) and the nonsense of Pure Form, discerning manifestations of both in works by Polish Futurists. See Stanisław I. Witkiewicz, “Parę zarzutów przeciw futuryzmowi,” in Bez kompromisu, 119–22; Witkiewicz, “O skutkach działalności naszych futurystów,” 123–31. 256 An example of this is the poem “Kusy Jan:” “Gdzie się dział kusy Jan, / co chodził z toporem? / Kijem się opasował, / podpierał się worem. / Na piecu studnię miał, / ryby z niej wybierał, / piasek grabił grabiami, / makiem ptaki strzelał. / Stępa dziwy zobaczyła, / oknem wyskoczyła, / stodoła się rozigrała, / zająca goniła. / Zając leciał przez cmentarz, / obalił dzwonnicę, / musiał dać kusy Jan / marmurową świecę” (qtd. after Stanisław Czernik, Poezja chłopów polskich, Warszawa 1951, 205–6; another version of this text is contained in Antologia poezji dziecięcej, 369–70). Such poems can be compared with others that employ similar constructions: the poem “Wieś” by Wat and passages from Słowo o Jakubie Szeli by Jasieński. One passage from the former reads: “Biskup stojący nad rzeką / błogosławił poród ryb; / wieloryb przed nim uciekał / w grzędy pachnące lip. / … / Z krzykiem mkną stodoły / z sioła w pustelnię pól. / Gwiazd morderczy ołów / oblepi ziemi puls. // … / Kury zakwitły w koniczynie / konie wyrosły w gołębniku / po niebie mkną obłoki-świnie / liczę lica: lic bez liku” (Aleksander Wat, “Wieś,” Zwrotnica 3 (1922); qtd. after Aleksander Wat, Ciemne świecidło, Paris 1968, 214–5). See also Małgorzata Baranowska, “Trans czytają cego młodzieńca wieku (Wat),” in Surrealna wyobraźnia i poezja, Warszawa 1984, 218–9. In Jasieński we read: “Jak go [Szelę] prowadzili / tamtą kładką giętką, / wyszły ryby na przerębel / łapać ludzi wędką” (Jas., Upms 149–50). 257 See Willy Verkauf, “Dada – Cause and Effect / Ursache und Wirkung des Dadaismus / Dada – Cause et E et,” in Dada. Monograph of a Movement, 10–15. 258 See notes 255 and 256. For Author use only Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? 307 clearly in surrealism, rejecting coherent presentation of meaning would frequently remain disconnected from ludic conceptuality. In such cases we deal either with chance-driven compositions (e.g. Tzara’s famous hat-poems, in which the choice of words cut out from newspapers was obviously restricted, making the final compositions merely permutations, i.e. limited to a certain predefined set) or texts in which nonsensical constructions do not constitute amusing and incoherent stories but rather metaphorical texts full of astonishing semantic tensions. In the latter, logical relations are relaxed and arbitrariness is not simply humorous but rather compelling and unsettling.259 Consider the example of the following poems, full of metaphorical images, alliterative phrases drawing from symbolism and asemantic, glossolalic sequences of sounds:260 Schalaben-schalabei-schalamezomai Die Köpfe der Pferde schwimmen auf der blauen Ebene wie grosse dunkle Purpurblumen des Mondes helle Scheibe ist umgeben von den Schreien der Kometen Sterne und Gletscherpuppen schalaben schalabai schalamezomai Kanaaniter und Janitscharen kämpfen einen grossen Kampf am Ufer des roten Meeres die Himmel ziehen die Fahnen ein die Himmel verschieben die Glasdächer über dem Kampf der hellen Rüstungen… …261 placer l’enfant dans le vase au fond de minuit et la plaie une rose des vents avec tes doigts aux belles ongles le tonnerre dans les plumes voir une eau mauvaise coule des membres de l’antilope souffrir en bas avez vous trouvé des vaches des oiseaux?262 259 See Lehnert, “Nihilismus, Anarchismus, DADA,” 1042; Scheffer, Schönes Verständliches, 89–98. Naturally, this cannot be excluded in the context of “poems from the hat.” 260 Cf. the remarks by Lehnert in “Nihilismus, Anarchismus, DADA,” 1041. 261 Excerpt from the text by Huelsenbeck qtd. after Richter, Dada – art et anti-art, 50 (also published in DADA. 113 Gedichte, 63–4). [Shalaben-shalabay-shalamezomai // Heads of horses flow down the blue plain / like great dark crimson flowers / bright face of the moon surrounded by shouts / of comets stars and ice age dolls / shalaben shalabay shalamecomay / Canaanites and janissaries fight a great / war at the shore of red sea / heavenly flags lower heavens move / glass ceilings over the war of brigh armours…]. 262 Tristan Tzara, “Printemps,” in Dada. Réimpression intégrale, 44 (originally printed in Dada 2 [1917], 16). [‘to tuck the baby in a vase at midnight’ / and wound / and For Author use only 308 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? The quoted poems contain no sign of laughter-inducing pure nonsense. These oneiric pieces employ metaphors that are particularly difficult to explicate.263 The recalled Dadaist texts can be described using the same categories as the slightly later surrealist poems;264 thus, we can shed light on them by invoking comments by Adam Ważyk in response to surrealist texts: Surrealist played with imagination without heeding any norms. They broke all limitations dating back to the Renaissance, untouched by either baroque or Romantic poets; they ceased to take into account the economy of organic forms and the human body.265 In surrealist painting humans would be mixed with animals, plants and inanimate objects. … Surrealist poetry is a ceaseless apology in which animals and inanimate objects behave like people, stopping their ears, vomiting and waving. … In the original intention, surrealist images had a fully autonomous character: disinterested, they would exist for their own sake, becoming part of a composition that does not yield before reason.266 Turning to analysis of Polish works, we should remember about the two already mentioned aspects of Dadaist practice: ludic randomness (“poems from the hat”)267 and surrealist use of metaphor. At this stage, however, it becomes crucial to examine texts that employ comic absurdity. Identifying Dadaist works that represent 263 264 265 266 267 windrose with your fingers with beautiful nails / to see thunder in feathers / evil water flows from antelope limbs / to suffer below have you found the cows of birds?]. The phrase “le vase au fond de minuit” contains an echo of the entirely “unpoetic” “vase de nuit” [chamber pot] (which can be nevertheless associated with the child that appears in the text). Many scholars (among others J. Cohen, N. Chomsky and M. Lekomceva) view metaphor as semantically explicable combinations of words (a necessary condition for considering a given structure as metaphorical, not the entirely absurd combination of words) that are nonsensical only from the perspective of everyday communication. The aforementioned surrealist constructions are among the most difficult configurations to interpret because it verges on the impossible to indicate the shared meaning of words brought together to create oneiric poetic images. Such texts prove to be close to surrealist visual collages: “sequences of visual representations characterized by … unusual succession following indecipherable rules of association” (Janicka, Surrealizm, 84). I do not mean to equate Dadaism and surrealism since they clearly differ in terms of worldview and understanding of artistic activity; however, we should note some important similarities (see Krystyna Janicka, Światopogląd surrealizmu, Warszawa 1969, 37–40; Caws, Poetry of Dada and Surrealism, 98). For more on the interpenetration of Dadaism and surrealism (as well as Italian Futurism) see G. Berghaus, “Futurism, Dada and Surrealism,” 302. See also Caws, Poetry of Dada and Surrealism, 95–8. Adam Ważyk, “Przedmowa,” in Surrealizm. Teoria i praktyka literacka. Antologia, trans. A. Ważyk, ed. A. Ważyk, Warszawa 1973, 7. Ważyk, “Przedmowa,” 18–19. Naturally, not all works constructed in this way must be ludic in terms of meaning, but certainly the atmosphere in which they were composed was ludic. For Author use only Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? 309 strict pure nonsense can be painstaking and pointless.268 Nevertheless, this sec­ tion attempts to indicate similarities and differences between alogical Dadaist compositions and ones from the circle of Polish Futurism, focusing primarily on the tradition of pure nonsense and not limiting the context of interpretation to Dadaist works. Compositions by Polish Futurists include ones whose reception eludes logic and common sense, sometimes approximating oneiric surrealist pieces.269 Usually, however, words and phrases that seem surprising from the standpoint of everyday experience play a different role, becoming elements of pure nonsense jokes. The particularly relevant issue is the one signalled in the title of the Dadaist part of this study, namely the question of sonic arbitrariness or the semantic and phonic character of concepts developed within Polish Futurism. One relatively uncomplicated example of comic absurdity is Stern’s poem “Melancholia” [Melancholy]: Siedziały dwa rzędy dam W obitych pluszem, płomiennych fotelach, Uśmiechały się tu i tam, I mówiły ze sobą o kotletach. [Ladies were sitting in two rows In plush, flaming armchairs Casting smiles here and there, Talking of meat chops. Wieczorem te dwa rzędy dam Przemieniły się w pulchne dzwonki – I dzwoniły: dam, dam, dam… Kołysząc się na stu postronkach. (Stern, Wz 134) Come evening the two rows of ladies Transformed into rounded bellflowers And began ringing: dam, dam, dam… Swaying on a hundred tethers.] 268 See Tigges, An Anatomy of Literary Nonsense, 122–3. 269 See Henryk Dubowik, “Motywy nadrealistyczne u futurystów i formistów,” in Nadrealizm w polskiej literaturze współczesnej, Bydgoskie Towarzystwo Naukowe, Prace Wydziału Nauk Humanistycznych, series B, No. 5, Poznań 1971, 102–11. While analysing the impact of surrealism on the poetics of Peiper and Przyboś as well as surrealist themes in post-war lyricism, Andrzej Lam attempted to “coin a syncretic definition of surrealism, including elements such as the predilection for unexpected, perceptually non-intuitive combinations of words, images and metaphors, as well as the prioritization of the unconscious, imagination and oneiric visioning, preference for grotesque absurdity, from which emerges a new logic of symbolic paradigms, the interchangeability of horror and humour, the desire to expose, a provocative attitude to the passive identification of the vision of the world with dominant conventions” (Andrzej Lam, “Jak jeszcze istnieje nadrealizm?,” in Z teorii i praktyki awangardyzmu, Warszawa 1976, 67–8). One example is the Futurist poem “Mediumiczno-magnetyczna fotografia poety Brunona Jasieńskiego” by Czyżewski: “taka–hu taka–hu / palą się płomienie widmowe / po przyległej ciemnej sali spacerują długie ręce / mózg jest pełen wężów i znajduje się w tej chwili / w kuchni na patelni / ametystowe oczy wielkie pływają / razem z wigilijnymi karpiami w wannie w łazience / długie lunatyczne nogi schodzą z kanapy / zbliżają się cichaczem do komody / Palce na klawiszach klawikordu grają w tej For Author use only 310 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? The text pictures an absurd metamorphosis of noble ladies (who nevertheless talk of meat chops, which is the first clear dissonance) into “rounded bellflowers” ringing in the evening. The piece is evidently humorous. Unlike the Dadaist poems quoted above, it does not use metaphors that require deep explication. The image of conversing matrons who metamorphose into resounding instruments is meant to be (and is) simply humorous. The verse joke is clearly a sonic-semantic concept based on the homophony of the plural genitive form of the noun “dama” [lady] and the proper onomatopoeia “dam, dam, dam.” Stern’s method is by no means avantgarde. The humour stemming from the juxtaposition of semantically incongruent homophones has been utilized since centuries, although textual elements creating ludic tension would usually not include proper onomatopoeias. One historically close example of such play is a quatrain from a Young Poland humorous text: Podobny babie głupiec Raz kupił sobie prosię, A ono prosi go się, Aby je raczył upiec270 [A woman-like fool Once bought himself a pig And it asked him To be so kind and roast it] Still, Dadaism remains the main point of reference for analyses conducted here. Let us then compare Stern’s text with one by Schwitters. It incidentally also contains the root “dam,” which is common to Polish and German, and appears in a surprising literary context. The “Unsittliches i-Gedicht” [Indecent i-poem]:271 U n s i t t l i c h e s i-G e d i c h t Dames-Hemden . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Dames-Pantalons, fransch model. . Dames-Pantalons . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Prima Dames Nachtponnen . . . . . . chwili” [taka–hu taka–hu / spectral flames are burning / in the adjacent dark room hands are walking / the brain is full of snakes and is now located / in the kitchen on a frying pan / giant amethyst eyes are floating / together with Christmas Eve carps in the bathtub / long sleepwalking legs descend from the couch / and silently approach the chest of drawers / Fingers on the clavichord are now playing] (Czyż., Pipd 104–5; emphasis preserved). This surrealist text does not clearly valorize the sonic dimension, similarly to the poems by Tzara and Huelsenbeck cited at the beginning of the section. According to Dubowik, “walking hands and floating eyes could have been painted or filmed by any surrealist” (Dubowik, “Motywy nadrealistyczne,” 109). Similar compositions are analysed in the next section. 270 Faleński, O głupim Gawle, 86; emphasis added. 271 Schwitters’s “i-poems” (in which, he claims, “idea, material and the work are all the same thing”) are broadly discussed by Scheffer (Anfänge experimenteller Literatur, 194–201; see also Stahl, Anti-Kunst und Abstraktion, 379–80). For Author use only Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? 311 Dames-Combinations . . . . . . . . . . . . . Heeren Hemden, zwaar graslinnen . . . (aus einer hollandischen Tageszeitung).272 Without adding any commentary and partially relying on linguistic readymades, Schwitters arranges names of various pieces of men’s and women’s clothing. Women’s shorts, tasselled bloomers and the mysterious “women’s combinations” are enumerated in the text just before men’s shirts “from cloth and grass (from a Dutch daily).” Departures from orthographic and grammatical rules (“zwaar” instead of “zwar;” “Heeren” instead of “Herren;”273 “Dames” instead of “Damen”) and, primarily, the surprising conclusion allow one to read the poem as a ludic piece verging on the absurd and transgressing social and artistic decorum.274 In the “i-poem” an important function is played by sound and typesetting. Visually, the poem forms a square, a regular shaped achieved by Schwitters thanks to the use of different font sizes, letter spacing and suspension points. Regularity is also underscored by sound: in the “women’s section” through repeating “Dames” and situating “Pantalons” in the rhyming position, while in the “men’s department” through consonance (basing on the sounds “h,” “g,” “r,” and “n”). This sonic and visual configuration determines the reception of the poem as an intricate miniature, a paraliterary curiosity verging on the ludic.275 Its comic character, or rather the shockingly unusual nature is rooted only to some extent in sound. The piece’s phonic shape (distinctly different in the two “gendered” parts) serves to underline the peculiarity of the situation, but does not make the poem strictly humorous.276 272 Qtd. after Scheffer, Anfänge experimenteller Literatur, 198. [Indecent i-poem / Women’s shirts ………… / Women’s bloomers with fringe… / Women’s bloomers ………… / The best women’s night ponns……… / Women’s combinations………… / Men’s shirts, from linen from grass… / (from a Dutch daily)]. In German there are no words like “Nachtponnen” or “ponnen” (contrary to the intuition that these are borrowings from French). The word, translated as “night ponns” here, would be thus also unclear to German readers. Additional commentary is necessary in connection with the oft-repeated element “Dames.” This is yet another example of Schwitters’s interference with language since the correct form would be “Damen.” The incorrect and semantically obscure phrase “Dames Nachtponnen” can be regarded as a specific metathesis that switches remote elements, thus possibly decipherable as the grammatically correct phrase “Damen Nachtpossen” [women’s night farces]. 273 Orthographic inconsistency also introduces additional meanings: “Heer” means “the military” in German. Schwitters’s commentary to the quoted poem, however, uses the correct form “Herrenhemden” (see Scheffer, Anfänge experimenteller Literatur, 198). 274 See the remarks by Schwitters quoted in Scheffer, Anfänge experimenteller Literatur, 198. 275 As suggested in meta-artistic texts by Schwitters, this was his original intention. See Kurt Schwitters, “i (Ein Manifest),” in DADA total, 172. 276 See Bohdan Dziemidok, O komizmie, Warszawa 1967, 67. For Author use only 312 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Still, it is certainly astonishing and slightly absurd, ruthlessly throwing readers off any habitual interpretive tracks. Comparison of poems by Stern and Schwitters leads to the conclusion that it is only in the case of the former that we deal with a clear sonic-semantic conceit. In Stern’s poem, both meaning and sound are outlined more distinctly, making them humorous and decidedly absurd. Another poem by Stern – “Południe” [Noon] – can be read in the context of highly specific word- and sound-play: Padł welon w len Mięta zmięta – Gdzie melon? – (A w kapelusik wpięta pięta.) (Ant. 204) [A veil landed in flax Crushed mint – Where is the melon? – (A heel stuck in the small hat.)] This poem is one of the most spectacular examples of ludic instrumentation in Polish Futurism.277 As Gazda argues: In the case of Stern, linguistic experimentation corresponded to the programmatic claim “let us be primitive.” The de-aestheticization of language led to partial degradation of the poem’s semantics. It is expressed in onomatopoeias reflecting simple sounds, or in ludic valorization of sound (“I hasa Eros, rosa skrzy się” [Eros frolicking, dew glistening]; “Padł welon w len mięta zmięta – gdzie melon?” [A veil landed in flax crushed mint – where is the melon?]).278 We may establish the semantic motivation behind certain word combinations found in “Południe.” It appears that one coherent explanation could be based on eroticism: falling veil, meadow crushed by the lovers’ bodies, a small (bowler?) hat lying at the heels. However, meanings can only be inferred here as they are pushed into the background by the poem’s unique sound. Readers are invited to join the teasing etymological game. Consistently applied pseudo-etymological 277 It is worth adding that Stern’s poems from the volume Futuryzje (Warszawa 1919), including “Południe,” “play” not only with sound but also with their visual form. Even the cover is unusual since it contains phrases written horizontally, vertically and obliquely using various fonts (following the disorderly “Dadaist” style): “Mój czyn miłosny w paragwaju” [My love deeds in paraguay] (“Mój czyn miłosny” is horizontal, while “w paragwaju” is oblique), with others are set using different fonts: “Niebiosa na półmisku” [Heavens on a platter], “Anatola Sterna” [Anatol Stern’s], “ciało wiosenne” [spring body], “futuryzje,” “anatol stern” (with “stern” printed vertically, “an” obliquely and the meaningful “atol” – horizontally). The volume was printed on variously-coloured paper: the cover is white, from title page to page 12 sheets are yellow-orange, and from page 13 until the end (page 28) – light green. Print is black throughout. Also, the volume’s dimensions are untypical: 147 mm x 132 mm. 278 Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 88. For Author use only Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? 313 figures suggest – misleadingly, of course – some kind of kinship between elements: “welon” – “w len” – “melon;” “mięta” – “zmięta;” “wpięta” – “pięta” (also, the last four words are phonically close). Despite adherence to syntactic rules and use of regular words only (the piece contains no asemantic glossolalias) the poem does not carry a clear message. Amassing semantically incompatible paronyms (“wpięta pięta”) makes it a sonic masterpiece whose dimension of meaning is made utterly bizarre by way of pure nonsense.279 There are few Dadaist texts that are equally saturated with homophonizing paronyms. One of them is the following piece by Marcel Duchamp: Paroi parée de paresse de paroisse A charge de revanche et a verge de rechange Sacre de printemps, crasse de tympan Daily lady cherche démêlés avec Daily Mail.280 The similarity of sounds in both poems is striking. The French text contains numerous examples of pseudo-etymologies that render certain parts of the poem deeply homophonic in ingenious ways (e.g. the phonic “metatheses:” “sacre” – “crasse;” “printemps” – “tympan;” “daily” – “lady”). However, the semantic dimension of the Dadaist poem is much different. Duchamp’s piece is metaphorical and meandering in terms of meaning, which makes it far removed from pure nonsense. Paradoxically, from the perspective of stereotypes in literary studies it is Stern’s work that seems closer to ludic absurdity than the composition by probably the most orthodox of Dadaists. Both works are characterized by sound-based conceptualism. However, only the Polish poem can be deemed conceptual in terms of meaning. Stern plays not only with sound but also with semantics, treading a fine 279 See Jan Pieszczachowicz, Wygnaniec w labiryncie XX wieku. Poetyckie rodowody z dwudziestolecia, Kraków 1994, 30. Wat wrote a related poem – one that also foregrounds its sonic tissue but is probably easier to explicate semantically: “Ja mam niebieski krok, / on rok wypuszcza z rąk / i mówi: tak! / jestem ptak, / któremu nieba brak. // A ja skanduję: tyk-tyk-tak / i myślę sobie skrycie: / jesteś kulawy niebieski ptak / z skrzydłami na suficie” [I have blue step, he releases year from his hands / and says: yes! / I am a bird / that lacks heaven. // And I shout: tick-tick-tock / and think secretly: / you are a lame blue bird / with wings on the ceiling]. (Aleksander Wat, “* * *,” in Ciemne świecidło, 211. Ważyk termed it a “Dadaist poem;” see Adam Ważyk, Kwestia gustu, Warszawa 1966, 65.). 280 Richter, Dadaizm, 285. [Rough translation: Wall adorned with the laziness of parish / On the principle of mutuality and exchange of the birch / Rite of spring, the dirt of the tympanum / Daily lady is looking for trouble / with Daily Mail]. The French word “sacre” means “the sacred,” “consecratio” or “ceremonious inauguration.” Le sacre du printemps is the title of a famous ballet by Stravinsky. See also the similar composition by Arp (from the surrealist period) discussed by Jacques Bersani in the article “Arp et la poésie” (19–24). For Author use only 314 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? line between comic absurdity and incomprehensibility. In Duchamp’s text, on the other hand, the tension between the meanings of juxtaposed lexemes gravitates not toward pure nonsense but toward hardly explicable metaphors. Let us also recall a short, explicitly sound-based poem by Stern titled “arak” [arrack]: arak radosna nosa kara arak asonans o dar! (Stern, Wz 84) [arrack joyful punishment of nose arrack assonance o gift!] The text initially appears to be a slightly incoherent literary trifle. “Radosna nosa kara” does not raise concerns as a description of the eponymous arrack, unlike the surprising enumerative combination of the lexemes “arak,” “asonans” and “dar.” However, the key to this piece lies not in its semantics. Paweł Majerski rightly points out that the element “rak” [meaning “crayfish” or, in plural form “raki,” “cancrine verse”] – made visually distinct in the original printing in Nieśmiertelny tom futuryz [Immortal volume of futurizas] – is actually contained inside the eponymous “arak.”281 (Moreover, the cover of this collection by Stern and Wat featu­ res the poem’s title, spelled as rAk ArAk!). Stern’s ludic text seems to be part of a long tradition of poetic play practiced, among others, by Jan Kochanowski or Jan Andrzej Morsztyn.282 In the context of such perverse cancrine verse it is not words but sounds that form the backward-readable construction283 (we thus deal here not so much with cancrine verse but a palindrome).284 Both lines can be read both traditionally, from left to right, and inversely (as in cancrine verse, i.e. backwards): from right to left. In the latter case, the line turns out to contain sequences of sounds forming the preceding or the following line.285 281 Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 31. 282 See also for example the picaresque versus cancrini in Polska fraszka mieszczańska. Minucje sowiźrzalskie, ed. K. Badecki, Kraków 1948, 243–4. 283 See Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 31; Julian Tuwim, “O pewnej kobyle i rakach,” in Pegaz dęba, Kraków 1950, 103–10. 284 See Tuwim, “O pewnej kobyle,” 96–103; Bystroń, Komizm, 377–9. 285 See Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 31. For Author use only Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? Illustration 8. Cover of the volume Futuryzje [Futurettes] by Anatol Stern, “Wszechczas,” Warszawa 1919 (1919/1920) – one of several projects developed by the author. 315 Illustration 9. “Cover” of Nieśmiertelny tom futuryz [Immortal volume of futurizas] by Anatol Stern and Aleksander Wat, published in Warsaw in 1921 by the “publishing house” “Futur Polski.” The entire “volume” is just one sheet of paper folded in two (the first page is shown). Illustration 10. Inside pages (the only double spread) of Nieśmiertelny tom futuryz [Immortal volume of futurizas] by Stern and Wat. For Author use only 316 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? An important role is also played here by the poem’s typesetting in the original version published in Nieśmiertelny tom futuryz: The corresponding anagrams “arak” – “kara” have been distinguished in individual lines with bold type, while further phonic similarities are underlined visually in “echoes:” “osa” – “aso.” The font used to typeset letters in both palindromic lines is identical, just like the slanting spatial arrangement, although it is also inverted in the second of the two lines. “Arak” is pure literary play, although one that falls short of being avant-garde since it employs literary concepts of ancient origins (cancrine verse and palindromes hailing back to antiquity). This has nothing to do with randomness and chaos, but rather suggests sonic and, to an extent, semantic conceptualism. Although the meaning is trivial and slightly absurd, it is the alogical character that invites seeking other motivations behind word combinations than ones related to semantics. It seems futile to look for any such elaborate constructions in Dadaist works,286 which also have no respect for rules and the literary tradition that can be identified in this case. In another poem by Stern the layer of meaning is maximally defamiliarized, while the imagery is thoroughly absurd. According to Zaworska, in this text “ridiculing traditional emotional patterns is combined with … the ‘dethroning of individualism’ in the nineteenth-century sense. The self-portrait of the Polish Futurist in 1919 is as follows:”287 Łeb ściął mi słońca sierp POR skosił włosy TRET MÓJ. bez łysej chodzę głowy Go łowy chłodzę, zwisa bez 286 One of the compositions closest to that of Stern yet distant from his conceptual consistency is possibly the text by Max Ernst titled “Antwort der Weltbürger an Kurt Pinthus-Genius” (see DADA. 113 Gedichte, 159). 287 H. Zaworska, O nową sztukę, 193. For Author use only Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? 317 A na ochabrzony mrzonkami szklany kapelusik sika świerszcz. BEZ KAPELUSIKA.288 [The sickle of the sun cut off my head mowing my hair I walk without my bald head Heads I cool, lilac hangs POR TRAIT OF ME. And on the glass hat cornflowered with pipe-dreams a cricket is peeing. WITHOUT A HAT.] The poem can be viewed as a poetically incoherent and almost homophonic “quasinarrative”289 that utilizes “freed themes.”290 The first three lines are still relatively coherent and their meaning can be deciphered despite the high degree of metaphorization.291 However, the sound-play is far clearer than any semantic relations. In the first line the major factor is alliteration and consonance and the frame formed by the internal rhyme “łeb” (with devoiced “b”) – “sierp.” In the second line the rhyme is approximate: “skosił” – “włosy.” The subsequent line is semantically related to the first two, yet it phonically connects with the fourth. Then, the passage “bez łysej chodzę głowy / Go łowy chłodzę, zwisa bez” constitutes one of the most perverse sound compositions in Polish Futurism. The quoted lines are symmetrical, inviting the geometrical formula of word-symmetry (to a specific point), with the corresponding, mirroring parts located in the two extremes of the relevant lines. For example, the word “głowy” from the end of the third line corresponds to the combination that opens the fourth line: “go łowy,” which is close in sound yet has opaque meaning.292 It is uncertain whether this phrase should be treated as the pronoun “go” [him] and the noun “łowy” [hunt]293 (as the text seems to 288 Visual composition qtd. after Stern, Futuryzje, emphasis preserved, 11. Text also quoted in “Un dadaïsme polonais?,” 98–9. 289 The title of the poem, printed almost on the margin, also plays an important role in the perception of the book as a whole because it is fragmented in the same way as some of the lexemes in the poem. 290 “Themes in freedom” is a term developed by Gazda in his analysis of “Wiosenno” by Jasieński (Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 88). 291 Similar imagery is employed by Stern in the poem “Księga mądrości” [Book of wis­ dom] (Stern, Wz 32), where we read: “Chcę by wiatr skosił / Wszystkie żółte głowy / Chcę ryczeć jak osioł / Chcę skakać jak krowy” [I want the wind to mow down / All the yellow heads / I want to roar like a donkey / I want to jump like cows]. 292 Skubalanka call this line a “sentence-less text” because it features “the weakening of … the word forms from which it is composed” (Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna,” 14). 293 It is not without reason that Michał Głowiński and Janusz Sławiński, “Wstęp,” in Poezja polska okresu międzywojennego, part 1, Wrocław 1987, lxxi, claim that Futurist For Author use only 318 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? indicate), or as the Russian word for “heads” [golovy] split in two to avoid being recognized (though the Russian equivalent differs from the Polish only through pleophony). A similar relation exists between the “diagonally positioned” words “bez” [meaning both “lilac” and “without”] and the sound-related words “łysej” [bald] and “zwisa” [hangs] (correspondance of “ys” and “is”). The paronyms “chodzę” [walk] and “chłodzę” [cool], located mid-line (a rare instance of parechesis, just like in the case of “głowy” and “go łowy”), remain in their positions in accordance with the geometric principle of symmetry. The construction is thus remarkably elaborate, although its semantic explication is practically impossible due to syntactic opaqueness and semantic incomprehensibility.294 A coherent interpretation is also thwarted by the clearly pure-nonsense final lines. The freedom of themes is far greater than in previous lines, although the rigour of phonic organization is somewhat relaxed (featuring only consistent consonance based on the fricatives “ż,” “ś,” and “sz”). The semantics of words comprising the poem does not allow one to conduct a cohesive reconstruction of meaning. The poem’s visual arrangement on the page in the collection Futuryzje also turns out to be crucial. Poems of unusual phonic and semantic character, “Południe,” “Portret mój” and “Pereł,”295 are printed together on the same, small, almost squ­ are page (147 mm × 132 mm). Individual texts are practically not separated from each other. The opposite (left) page contains the ludic and parodist poem “Chiński bożek (ja sam)” [Chinese idol (me myself)].296 As a result, the reader is confron­ ted with a two-page composition one of compelling visual arrangement and very specific sonic and semantic character (a true feast of pure nonsense, humour and “meaninglessness”). This brings to mind the Dadaist experiments from Cabaret Voltaire, i.e. poems composed by pulling random words from the hat. This direction is also signalled by the fact that “kapelusik” [small hat] appears twice in “Portret mój” without any intratextual semantic motivation (although it is a relatively common in Stern’s poetry).297 The mysterious pissing cricket can be perhaps linked to the already quoted, misspelt phrases from Nuż w bżuhu (1921): “demokraći wywieśće sztandary ze słowami naszyh szwajcarskih pszyjaćuł: Hcemy szczać we wszystkih 294 295 296 297 poetry features not only words that rebel against syntax, but also word parts liberated from wholes. An opposing is voiced by Bogdana Carpenter, The Poetic AvantGarde in Poland 1918–1939, Seattle 1983, xv. See Grodziński, Zarys teorii nonsensu, 28–60. Cf. section 4A in Chapter One. Cf. section 4A in Chapter One. One example is the slightly “pure nonsense” passage from the poem “Rycerz w Kapeluszu” [Knight in a hat]: “Tego dnia znów ubrałem szklany kapelusik / I pocwałowałem na swym hipopotamie, / By w filigranowo rżniętym pierścieniu turkusik / Ofiarować Ginewrze, swej cudownej damie” [That day I put on my little glass hat / And galloped on my hippopotamus, / To offer a filigree turquoise ring / To Ginevere, my gorgeous lady] (Stern, Wz 52). For Author use only Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? 319 kolorah!”298 [democrats, fly the banners with words by our Swiss friends: We wish to piss in all colours!] – a paraphrase of Tzara’s call “Nous voulons chier dorénavant en couleurs diverses” from the second Dadaist manifesto (1916)299 and yet another piece of evidence (apart from the hat) that points to Dadaism. Despite such associations, Stern’s composition cannot be regarded as a random assemblage of words “pulled from the hat” (though phrases like “go łowy” would suggest this). Its composition is highly coherent, while the astonishing and “symmetrical” sonic relations preclude any randomness, the poem’s sounds forming a logical and thought-out whole. Still, the semantic layer is clearly crumbling, especially in places in which phonic configurations are more disciplined. Thus, “Portret mój” does not constitute an example of sound-semantic conceptualism but one limited to sound only. Despite semantic obscurities, we may deem it a text that borders on pure nonsense: phrases like “skosił włosy” or “na ochabrzony mrzonkami szklany kapelusik sika świerszcz” are distinctly comic. We should track similar instances in the Dada heritage. Two examples of texts resembling the one by Stern are Tzara’s “dada revue 2” and Max Ernst’s “Gertrud.” The former reads: Cinq négresses dans une auto ont explosé suivant les 5 directions de mes doigts quand je pose la main sur la poitrine pour prieur Dieu (parfois) autour de ma tête il y a la lumière humide des vieux oiseaux lunaires l’auréole verte des saints autour des évasions cérébrales tralalalalalalalalalalala qu’on voit maintenant crever dans les obus.300 Tzara’s text seems more coherent than “Portret mój.” Five black women and five fingers remain distinctly related in semantic terms, while the oneiric record of prayer can be interpreted as an extraordinary and surreal yet coherent image. In both cases, sound is a crucial factor that brings order into the composition.301 298 Nuż w bżuhu. 2 jednodńuwka futurystuw, 29. 299 See e.g. Sterna-Wachowiak, Miąższ zakazanych owoców, 70–1. 300 Qtd. after Richter, Dada, 50; emphasis added (also published in DADA. 113 Gedichte, 68). [Five black women in a single car / exploded in all five directions of my fingers / when I place my hands on the breast to pray (sometimes) / around my head there is humid shimmer of old moon birds / green aureole of the saints around the escapes of the brain / tralalalalalalalalalalala / that are now visible as they explode with grenades]. 301 We may offer a similar description of a passage from the already analysed text by Albert-Birot “Rasoir Mécanique” (section three in this chapter): “A travers / Terresetmers / IL VA PLEUVOIR / Pour voir.” For more on wordplay in Tzara’s poetry (structures such as “dévastant le champ vaste,” “les volets volés,” “venir à venir,” “les filles du fil de fer” and “des longues files de filles de la plaine”) see Caws, Poetry of Dada and Surrealism, 99. For Author use only 320 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? The above quote from Tzara’s poems emphasizes its numerous alliterations and internal rhymes; however, an important role in its phonic arrangement is also played by echolalia, which encompasses entire lines. Both texts seem related in terms of construction, with one reservation: the Polish poem is more alogical, closer to pure nonsense and more elaborate in terms of sound. Further compositional similarities with Stern’s poem can be identified in Ernst’s “Gertrud:” miesmaus mieskatze miesmauschel schieβen salut zur abschaffung des guten geschmacks serviergeneräle welche schon speicheljahresringe ansetzen plaudertaschentücher kuβhandtücher geben den gebacken korallenchoral zu protokoll kolik – faux col walkürie Eliassohn b-moll.302 Ernst’s text turns out to be semantically absurd but its alogical character stems not just from metaphorical tensions, but also comical connotations (the recorded “roasted chorales of corals” and “hankies for kissing hands”). “Gertrud” is one of the most pure-nonsense-like Dadaist poems.303 At its foundation we discover, just 302 Qtd. after DADA total, 232; emphasis added. See also DADA. 113 Gedichte, 159. Unfortunately, no translation can fully render the original’s play with sound. The word “mies” means “mediocre,” “bad,” while “mieskatze” is simply a “female cat.” Translation might preserve some aspects of sound patterning but not the ambiguity in the case of “mieskatze.” The word “mauscheln” means “to jabber,” while Ernst’s “miesmauschel” also brings associations with the words “miesmuschel” (“blue mussel shell”) and “Mäuschen” (“tiny mouse”). 303 See also Ernst, “Antwort der Weltbürger.” A series of pure nonsense, comic ima­ ges was also developed by Philippe Soupault in the poem “Le cinq frères” [Five brothers]. Pure nonsense is nevertheless “suspended” by the conditional structure of enunciation (which incidentally is rather traditional in terms of phonic composition): “Quand les éléphants porteront des bretelles / Quand les magistrats auront des chapeaux / Quand les escargots seront des chamelles / Quand les asticots boiront du BOVRIL / Quand les chemisiers auront des autos / Nous crierons Merci” (qtd. after Hugnet, L’aventure Dada, 214; available also in Mehring’s German translation; see DADA. 113 Gedichte, 186). [If elephants wear braces / If officials wear hats / If snails become camels / If pests drink BOVRIL / If seamstresses have cars / We will shout Thank you]. Another Dadaist poem that approximates pure nonsense is Arp’s “Der Poussierte Gast 5:” “Ihr Gummihammer trifft das Meer / Den schwarzen General hinab. / Mit Tressen putzen sie ihn auf / Als fünftes Rad am Massengrab. // Mit dem Gezeiten gelbgestrei / Drapieren sie sein Firmament. / Die Epauletten mauern sie / Aus Juni Juli und Zement. // Sie heben dann das Gruppenbild / Vielgliederig das Dadadach / Und nageln A. B. Zehe dran / Und Numerieren jedes Fach. // Sie färben sich mit Wäscheblau / Und ziehen als Flüsse aus dem Land / Kandierte Früchte in dem Bach / Die Oriflamme in der Hand” (qtd. after Tigges, For Author use only Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? 321 like in Stern’s “Portret mój,” numerous deep harmonies (especially interesting are the sonically elaborate and semantically incoherent lines 4–6).304 As it turns out, the absurd pieces by Polish Futurists can be highly logical in terms of sonic composition, revealing a specific, rational engineering of the absurd, or sonic constructivism that demolishes semantic logic. As demonstrated above, relations between sound configuration that emerge in some compositions by Stern can be almost mathematically described. Dadaism, on the other hand, is regarded as an anarchic movement that assaults all logical order, although it is not true that Dadaist works are never precisely structured (cf. Ernst’s “Gertrud”).305 An Anatomy of Literary Nonsense, 124–5; emphasis added). English translation (after Richter, Dada, 52–3): “The Guest Expulsed 5 // Their rubber hammer strikes the sea / Down the black general so brave. / With silken braid they deck him out / As fifth wheel on the common grave. // All striped in yellow with the tides / They decorate his firmament. / The epaulettes they then construct // Of June, July and wet cement. // With many limbs the portrait group / They lift on to the Dadadado; / They nail their A B seizures up; / Who numbers the compartments? They do. // They dye themselves with blue-bag then / And go as rivers from the land, / With candied fruit along the stream, / An Oriflamme in every hand.” Although this poem verges on pure nonsense, a thoroughly absurd and comical interpretation is problematized by lexemes related to war, e.g. “Massengraab” [mass grave] (see Tigges, An Anatomy of Literary Nonsense, 124). The poem also lacks deeper phonic motivation (the only harmonies are indicated in text). 304 Arp’s poem titled “te gri ro ro,” discussed in section five (p. 372 ff), could be described similarly. 305 Growth of the “sound mass” in logical and arithmetically precise manner can be also observed in the first part of Schwitters’s Ursonate. Naturally, this work is not an instance of pure nonsense because it does not use regular words. Still, let us quote a passage from this highly structured Dadaist composition – an excerpt from 1923 (in the original forming a pyramid-like verse construction): “bö. / fö / böwö / fümmsbö / böwörö / fümmsböwö / böwörötää / fümmsböwötää / böwörötääzää / fümmsböwötääzää / böwörötääzääUu / fümmsböwötääzääUu / böwörötääzääUu pö / fümmsböwötääzääUu pö / böwörötääzääUu pögö / fümmsböwötääzääUu pögö / böwörötääzääUu pögi / fümmsböwötääzääUu pögi / kwiiEe” (qtd. after Heissenbüttel, “Versuch über die Lautsonate,” 12). This passage is a variation on the subject of a musical theme announced already in the first line and consisting of a dozen or so sounds derived from Hausmann’s posterpoem (see fn. 117). Schwitters carefully planned the composition and it is easy to identify its underlying principles. The passage consistently develops two, partially identical sequences of sounds, the first one announced by the cluster “böwö” and the second – by “fümmsbö.” The former sequence is supplemented with syllables derived the first lines of Ursonate inspired by Hausmann’s text, while the latter echoes the gradually expanded first sequence, adding each time Hausmann’s onset “fümms.” Both sequences grow in a manner that is predictable, logical and precise. Such configurations undermine the widespread conviction about the thoroughly random and alogical character of Dadaist art. For Author use only 322 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Analyses conducted so far incline to explore another question – that of pure nonsense in Wat’s namopaniki. Although they are discussed in the previous ­chapter,306 the present context reveals another important dimension of this expe­ riment. Namopaniki should not be considered as fundamentally Dadaist and they certainly do not belong to the group of poems in which “normal” language coincides with a carnival of phonemes or innovative Dadaist onomatopoeias. Wat’s compositions feature at best a carnival of morphemes but this term is imprecise since the alleged textual carnival also comprises gibberish-like yet surprisingly elaborate instances of word formation that bring to mind many interpretive contexts. The clearest Dadaist hallmarks are the aforementioned words, woven into texts stylized as “holy gibberish” and related to areas that do not match the entire composition (e.g. “tramwaje” [trams]), as well as words or phrases of clearly comical character, e.g. “babuw czary” [misspelt, ungrammatical phrase meaning “witchcraft of countrywomen”] or “kokodryle” [anagrammatic “crocodiles”]. Wat’s neological masterpieces verge on pure nonsense at least in some passages. As already emphasized, the condition for considering a given poem as an instance of pure-nonsense consists in at least some possibility to explicate its meaning. Despite their specifically neological character, previously unseen in Polish literature, large parts of Wat’s texts can be roughly reconstructed by untangling the meaning of individual neologisms and phrases.307 Namopaniki are semantically unclear, nebulous, but in many cases – as demonstrated in the chapter devoted to neologisms – the innovative elements that form them often refer to similar, neighbouring semantic fields (as is easily observable in the story about “barwistan”). Wat’s experimental pieces thus fulfil the basic criteria of analysis. Enunciations that respect syntax and inflection308 as well as convey the outline of the story or comprise a relatively coherent invocation should not be treated as alogical despite inevitable semantic obscurities. Thus, it seems impossible to argue that the following passages are absurd: “baarwy w arwah arabistanu wrabacają wracabają poowracają racają” (Ant. 281), “takoh na czarnoszczu kraluje wszem kolorom białość i po śmierćeży powendrujem do oraju do ograju Barwistanu” (Ant. 282), or the apostrophes: “o barwionki o barwoczy o barwiony o barwohi / o barwigie o barwalie o barwiecze o barwiole / o kroony barw!” (Ant. 282), “O! charmoniki 306 Cf. section two in Chapter Two. 307 It is worth adding that in Dadaist texts neologisms (created in accordance with word formation principles, not some obscure glossolalias) appear relatively rarely, but are not entirely absent from these texts (cf. “Gertrud” by Ernst). 308 “Wat, who was suspected of Dadaism, proved to be quite well-behaved in compa­ rison with actual Dadaists. He avoided dismantling sentence structures. Play with sound in neologisms and the namopaniki, praised by Tuwim, who was paid much attention to the poem’s tight structuring, marked the height of poetic organization that this author would never reach again elsewhere” (Ważyk, Dziwna historia awangardy, 52); for more on the dismantling of words and sentences in works by Wat see section two in this chapter. For Author use only Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? 323 charmonki rozchramonki charmoniuny char moniętr o pocharmonik charmoniacze! Charmoniaczki i płononce chury!” (Wat, Pz 152). Still, namopaniki contain passages in which combinations of words and phrases form surprising, ridiculous, improbable and comic images that can be regarded as representative of pure nonsense. Consider the following examples: na tramwajach tram na wyjach trawa! (Ant. 278) O barwy o baruwy – o raby barbaruw, barany herubuw o barwicze o czabary – babuw czary, o bicze rabuw o barwiasy o syrawy – o basy wiary, o bary ras! (Ant. 282) Na pagurach chrabonszczy lew o chrabonczyna o chrabonczyki rozchrabonczyn i lew chrabonszczoncy on jach chrabonszcz. (Wat, Pz 151) Gwiazy jamiołłów goronce granaty źrą i wiagzdy w chabrach stronch skrzydałrenki dromader skradocha garbani srebroje – on że kokodryl w złotawach (Wat, Pz 152) O nieboch niebaszne niebiantaich w liściatych chorałach chorych archaniołłów chromy jednookchi staruch rubinowo spłatał chorunami pacierz. (Wat, Pz 152; emphasis preserved) The first quotation (from “Żywoty”), distinguished in terms of syntax and versification, juxtaposes “tramwaje” [trams] and “tram” (a syllable from “tramwaj,” which alone also means in Polish “a beam in the roof truss” or “a block of wood; tree trunk”),309 the mysterious “wyje” [literally a verb form “screams”] and “trawa” [grass], the last element from an entirely different semantic field. The poetic image is particularly unclear here and much depends on the reader’s invention regarding the interpretation of the word “wyje,” based on an easily recognizable root. However, regardless of how one combines these three elements, the result is bound to be comic and absurd. The second quotation – seemingly a solemn apostrophe – combines entirely incongruent elements. “Opary absurdu” [fumes of absurdity] hover over the entire cited incantation, while alogicality and ambiguity also characterize adjacent phrases (“basy wiary” [basses of faith] and “bary ras” [shoulders / bars of races]). The third quotation amusingly juxtaposes “lew” [lion] and words based on the phonically distinct root “chrabąszcz” [cockchafer]. The king of animals, who is supposed to “chrabonszczyć” [act like a cockchafer], evokes laughter since the cockchafer is, after all, a small, inconspicuous and defenceless creature. In the last but one of the cited passages, we encounter (to attempt a “translation” of 309 See http://sjp.pwn.pl/szu​kaj/tram.html (accessed 29 June 2016). The “non-vehicle” meaning of “tram” was pointed out to me by Przemysław Pawlak, to whom I am grateful. For Author use only 324 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Wat’s experimental text) angel stars devouring hot grenades and a creeping winghanded dromedary. Undoubtedly, ludic absurdity (surreptitious dromedary with winged hands and “devouring” appearing in the context of angel stars) characterizes this composition, which verges on iconoclasm. The last of the quotations cited above is also marked by pure nonsense and iconoclasm. It is difficult to establish linear progression of meaning as the iconoclastic comedy emerges from the very combination of “niebo” [heaven], “liściate chorały chorych archaniołłów” [leafy chorales of sick archangels] and “chromy jednookhi staruch” [lame one-eyed old man] (perhaps God), who “splata pacierz” [plaits a prayer], with the word “splata” possibly echoing the collocation “spłatać figla” [to play a trick]. A crucial role is played in the discussed passages by sound structure. The mass of alliterations, consoanances, assonances and unusual paronomasias, which are all difficult to articulate, perfectly matches absurd semantics. As already mentioned, Wat’s constructions cannot be deemed as fully arbitrary and lax in the Dadaist sense. This is confirmed by complex word formation and the high degree of coherence in terms of semantics, sound, and syntax. At the same time, we may indicate playful, ludic and grotesque passages comprised of incongruent elements in which homophony reinforces the absurdity of images. The quoted passages from namopaniki can be fruitfully juxtaposed with the iconoclastic text by Max Ernst “Vorringer, profetor DaDaistikus,” a piece that pretends to be a page from the notebook of a “profetor” (i.e. someone in-between a professor and a prophet; cf. the German words “Prophet” and “Tor” [fool]).310 The poem contains the following sequences: 8. 12 v, missa exhibitionalis in der unsichtbaren katedrale der geistigen und privatprofeten. titi. 9,17 bis 9.25 v. ambigente und würdigung des irrenden irrsals kokoschka in gänsepantöelchen. lilli. … 10.14 bis 10.14 v. ubi bene ibi DaDa. pippi bibbi … 11.10 bis 5.23 nchm. unio expressiva erotica et logetica oder die begattungskrämpfe des bruders pablo mysticus und der Schwester scholastica Feininger oder die ethik picassos. kille killi 6.0 n. picastrate Eum!311 310 One can suspect that the eponymous “Vorringer” is supposed to refer to Wilhelm Worringer, a German art historian, theoretician of expressionism and researcher in the fields of abstract and “primitive” art. 311 Qtd. after DADA total, 231 (the entire piece is also included, with slight orthographic changes, in the anthology DADA. 113 Gedichte, 157). [8.12 am, missa exhibitionalis For Author use only Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? 325 It arises from these absurd notes that an exhibitionist mass (spelled in Latin) is scheduled at 8.12 am in an invisible cathedral. From 10.14 to 10.14 – thus, as it were, “outside time” – is the time slot for the travesty of the phrase “ubi patria ibi bene.” Notes also describe a several-hour-long “spasmodic fornication” of Brother Pablo Mysticus and Sister Scholastica Feininger, which suggests a ludic reference to the cubists Feininger and Picasso; the latter is later mentioned twice, e.g. in the pun “picastrate Eum!” Another interesting passage also regards “commemoration of the deranged mistakes made by kokoschka in goose’s court shoes” (naturally, an allusion to the expressionist Oskar Kokoschka). The last of the described images probably comes closest to pure nonsense due its improbable and ludic character. The irrational semantics is supported here by a distinct sound device: the etymological figure “irrenden irrsals.” However, the absurd character of the entire text is underscored to an even greater degree by primitivizing echolalias (perhaps onomatopoeias) that appear after each note. Both namopaniki and Ernst’s “Vorringer” are intertextual compositions, but the plane of extratextual references is more clearly (and simply) developed in the German piece, in which it is also more strongly rooted in contemporary artistic practices. The ludic and absurd notes taken by the “profetor” are representative of the intellectual and avant-garde anti-art that negates cultural achievements to date.312 In Wat’s texts iconoclasm nevertheless seems to be subtler, while its absurdity is more sophisticated (which does not preclude the possibility to link namopaniki with anti-art). The Dadaist text and the poem by the Polish Futurist share not only elements of pure nonsense but also the interest in the text’s sound (approximating semantic-sonic conceptualism) and iconoclasm stemming from the illogical character of certain phrases. Moreover, we should analyse passages from Wat’s Piecyk quoted in Cahiers Dada Surréalisme as a work representative of Polish Dadaist tendencies: PONURE WĘDRÓWKI. Scytowie okrakiem na drobnych wichrach, zady zdrowe a pachnące, owłosione u dołu nogi mogą cię pewnych nieszporów grynszpanowego wieczoru przenieść w zamorskie djamentowe krainy. W pałacu giętkim jak lotos, w giętkim jak lotos pałacu, w obszernej adamaszkowej komnacie, czeka na ciebie apetycznie pachnąca, różowa zupa przyrządzona kunsztem porannej dziewczynki. in the invisible cathedral of spiritual and private prophets. titi. / from 9.17 to 9.25 am. ambigente and celebration of wild mistakes of kokoschka in geese slippers. lilli. / … / from 10.14 to 10: 14 am. ubi bene ibi DaDa. pippi bibbi / … / from 11.10 to 5.23 pm. unio expressiva erotica et logetica or spasmodic fornication of brother pablo mysticus and sister scholastica Feininger or ethics of picasso. / kille killi 6.0 pm. picastrate Eum!]. 312 See e.g. Grzegorz Sztabiński, Problemy intelektualizacji sztuki w tendencjach awan­ gardowych, Łódź 1991, 137–47; Grzegorz Sztabiński, “Sztuka, antysztuka, niesztuka – z problemów negacji sztuki w tendencjach awangardowych,” Studia Filozoficzne 1 (1989), 95–100; Andrzej Turowski, Awangardowe marginesy, Warszawa 1998, 46. For Author use only 326 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? [GRIM WANDERINGS. Scythians sitting astride on soft gales, bottoms healthy and fragrant, the legs hairy in the lower parts can transport you on a certain vespers of a verdigris evening to overseas diamond lands. In a palace flexible like a lotus, in a lotus-flexible palace, in a spacious damask chamber there waits for you an appetizing, aromatic pink soup prepared with the artistry of a morning girl.] 2. Wędrówki Zapomnienia między Arką Przymierza a Arką Zgonu. Bladzi orgjaści każdy w maleńkiej iluminowanej nadziemskim światłem katedrze podsłuchują tempo moich matowych posępnych kroków. Czasem stopy moje okłamują pracę bednarską kafli płaskością troglodyty lub homo cromagnensis. Chodzę tam i nazad tam i nazad pomiędzy arkady strupioszałe moich grzechów. [2. Wanderings of Oblivion between the Ark of the Covenant and the Ark of Death. Pale orgiasts each in a tiny cathedral illuminated with unearthly light listen in on the pace of my matt grim footsteps. Sometimes my feet belie the cooper’s work on the tiles with a troglodyte or homo cromagnesis flatness. I walk to and fro, fro and to between the ghastly arcades of my sins.] 3. Moje twarze, które zmieniam z każdym zenitem słońca nie idą na marne. Przechowują się w obszernych stęchłych podziemiach o filarach podtoczonych robactwem, barwnemi bujnemi karlicami boliwijskich okrętów i fioletową poświatą szpar.313 [3. My faces, which I change with each Sun zenith, do not come to nothing. They are stored in the vast and musty vault where pillars are eaten away by worms, colourful and lush dwarf-women of Bolivian ships, and a purple glow from the slits.] (Wat, Ww 7–8) POMYŁKA NIEBIOS. Onej nocy na niebie dziwnie były rozstawione świecące się nocniczki. Piękne żony bednarzy oddawały się perwersyjnie młodziutkim chevaljerom i otyłym mnichom. Noc milczała czasem tylko mrucząc jak krowa. Kapituły przy płonącym benedyktynie obradowały nad ukojeniem, które należało zesłać pobożnym grafom.314 [A MISTAKE OF THE HEAVENS. That night, the sky was strangely lit with set-out glowing chamber pots. Beautiful wives of coopers were perversely giving themselves to the young chevaliers and plump monks. 313 Passage published in “Un dadaïsme polonais?,” 119–121. 314 Passage published in “Un dadaïsme polonais?,” 123. For Author use only Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? 327 The night was silent, only purring like a cow. Chapters by the burning Benedictine debated the solace that ought to be granted to the pious counts.] (Wat, Ww 14) Some of the quoted passages clearly verge on pure nonsense. Comic absurdity can be certainly ascribed to the opening part of the “Ponure wędrówki,” which praises Scythians, and to the sentence at the beginning of “Pomyłka niebios,” describing the sky lit up with chamber pots.315 The pure nonsense parts of Piecyk are also full of quasi-symbolist poetic phrases, repetitions of sounds (especially consonants) and lexemes, and onomatopoeias. This creates interesting tensions between euphony and absurdity (“zady zdrowe” [bottoms healthy] versus “nieszpory grynszpanowego wieczoru” [vespers of a verdigris evening]; “barwne bujne karlice boliwijskich okrętów” [colourful and lush dwarf-women of Bolivian ships]; “noc milczała mrucząc jak krowa” [the night was silent, only purring like a cow]). Still, many sequences from the quoted passages employ surprising oneiric metaphors that are far from comical.316 Such use of metaphor makes this text, just like similar Dadaist and surrealist compositions, no longer a conceptual piece, either in terms of sound or semantics. Absurdity and humour are moved the background, even if intriguingly underlined by sound structure (though not with such sophistication as in the case of Stern). The cited passages nevertheless reveal something that is rare in surrealist texts yet close to certain Dadaist compositions:317 sharp parody and iconoclasm. Glowing chamber pots instead of stars, “aromatic pink soup prepared with the artistry of a morning girl” or the “pale orgiasts” in the cathedral constitute a slight to prevailing conventions in art, culture and morality.318 Piecyk is thus a work that treads a fine line between surrealist metaphor and ludic pure nonsense. It lacks sophisticated, conceptual sound devices (especially in comparison with Stern’s poems). 315 Certain passages quoted above could be treated as pure nonsense, e.g. excerpts about the light-pink rhinoceros and “delicate meadows of the deep blue wives from Tahore” or the rocket-playing Queen Mab (cf. section 4B in Chapter One). 316 See Dubowik, “Motywy nadrealistyczne,” 105. 317 Baranowska argues that “in its surrealist imagination that manifests in recorded ‘trances,’ the ‘Dadaist’ Piecyk approximates surrealist works both in terms of themes and methods. Dadaism is placed in quotation marks due to the assumption made in studies of Wat’s early work that … he was a Futurist. Regardless, in the 1960s both Wat and Stern would unceremoniously call that period Dadaist, which in the end seems true, especially as far as Piecyk is concerned” (Baranowska, “Trans czytającego młodzieńca,” 218–9). 318 We should remember that surealist texts based on “subconscious whisperings” would sometimes break expectations and shock with their eroticism. However, images from Piecyk are blasphemous in a clearly ironic way. For Author use only 328 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Similar configurations can be also indicated in Dadaist works, for example in the already quoted work by Huelsenbeck: “Schalaben-schalabei-schalamezomai.” * The above analyses concern the means employed by Polish Futurists to create absurd, comical textual constructions (with special attention to the role of sound), attempting to indicate analogous Dadaist compositions. As demonstrated, generalizing claims about Dadaism need to be reconsidered. Zaworska argues: If we assume that impressionism (especially its extreme variant: pointillism) was the outcome of employing naturalism in sensual observation, and expressionism applied the same method to the sphere of experience, then Dadaism could be seen as developing a supernaturalist concept of the artwork as the most direct form of life manifesting itself. In this case, supernaturalism would be related to traditional naturalism in the same way as surrealism is related to traditional realism, taking a certain position to the extreme and revealing its entirely new artistic potential. … A similar process can be identified at the foundation of the Dadaist anti-aesthetics. Art’s faithfulness to life is treated in this case exactly in the supernaturalist manner, no longer representing reality in an organized way but spontaneously expressing reactions, emotions and life experiences.319 The critic’s assessment aptly describes only some of the Dadaist creative methods. However, the movement’s spontaneity sometimes proves to be a thought-out strategy whose consequences can be observed in the sphere of meaning and sound (e.g. in Ernst’s “Gertrud”). Thus, we would be wrong to regard Dadaism merely as conducive to “spontaneous expression of reactions, emotions and life experiences” because it was not driven only by a-intellectual reactions and entirely spontaneous arbitrariness. These issues are well illustrated by the problem in question. Pure nonsense is a specific variant of humour, which is paradoxically quite intellectual.320 As initially indicated here, the Dadaist corpus of works does not contain many pieces that can be argued to strictly represent pure nonsense. However, the very fact of their existence undermines the generalizations made by some scholars.321 319 Zaworska, O nową sztukę, 69. 320 See Tigges, An Anatomy of Literary Nonsense, 123; Petzold, Formen und Funktionen, 58; Forster, Poetry of Significant Nonsense, 8; Adam Pomorski, “Zaokrąglam horyzont,” in Leopold Staff, Nie ostrugujcie ryby z oceanu! Wiersze i poematy, ed. A. Pomorski, Warszawa 2002, 25. 321 Scholars of Dadaism usually fall into one of two extremes: they either emphasize the thoroughly a-intellectual aspect of the movement, ruling out the kind of literary jokes described here (see The New Princeton Encyclopedia, 840), or treat it as the model example of artistic pure nonsense (such claims in literary studies are discussed by Tigges in An Anatomy of Literary Nonsense; see also Verkauf, “Dada – Cause For Author use only Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? 329 The crucial issue is to apply comparatist methods to study the ways (including phonostylistic ones) in which pure nonsense manifests in Dadaist and Futurist texts. In the simplest, quantitative approach (with regard to the overall number of works), the body of Polish poems produced by this movement includes more compositions clearly representative of pure nonsense than the Dadaist corpus. Works belonging to the latter are closer to surrealist-like, incoherent, metaphorical compositions than to absurd wordplay or witticisms based on word and sound. The discussed Dadaist texts feature various techniques of instrumentation, including: – alliteration, consonance, assonance (e.g. “dada revue 2” by Tzara), – almost arithmetic configurations of sounds (“Gertrud” by Ernst, Ursonate by Schwitters), – etymological and pseudo-etymological figures (“Gertrud” and “Vorringer, profetor DaDaisticus” by Ernst; “[Paroi parée…]” by Duchamp), – repetition of words (“Unsittliches i-Gedicht” by Schwitters). This nevertheless does not mean that Dadaist works frequently employ comical tension based on sound and meaning. Only some of the quoted poems could be regarded as strictly representative of pure nonsense (“Gertrud” and “Vorringer, profetor DaDaisticus” by Ernst, quoted passages from “L’admiral cherche une maison à louer”322 and, to a degree, “Unsittliches i-Gedicht” by Schwitters and “Der Poussierte Gast 5” by Arp323). Semantic-sonic motivation can be identified only in “Gertrud” and, to some extent, in “Vorringer” and “i-Gedicht.” These texts unite sound and meaning, but they constitute only a small group of Dadaists works based on sonic-semantic concepts rooted in pure nonsense (e.g. in the comically absurd poem “L’admiral,” in which primitivizing glossolalias are found in place of sophisticated phonic sequences). Works like Tzara’s “[Cinq negresses…],” Duchamp’s “[Paroi parée…],” Schwitters’s Ursonate or Arp’s “[Lion de nuit…]” quoted earlier324 are conceptual in terms of their use of sound but do not represent pure nonsense. The text by Tzara is a metaphorical and surrealist composition, the namopanik-like poem by Duchamp is not entirely coherent in terms of semantics but it does not shock readers with improbable combinations of poetic images; also, the mirohład-like “[Lion de nuit…]” is closer to and Effect,” 10–15; Stewart, Nonsense, 76–7). The image of Dadaism is nevertheless more complex since this formation did not produce many texts that are strictly pure nonsense in character (Tigges does not recognize them at all), but we should note their existence. 322 Text quoted and discussed in the part devoted to Dadaist onomatopoeia. 323 Cf. also fn. 303. 324 Cf. pp. 310–312, 320–321 (fn. 303). For Author use only 330 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? absurdity rather than to pure nonsense.325 Finally, Ursonate is to a large extent an asemantic glossolalia (i.e. a mirohład). The situation is different in the case of Polish Futurism. It does not pose much difficulty to indicate a group of texts in which pure nonsense is the principle of construction. Humorous absurdity is often rooted in these works both in incongruent meanings that create comic tensions, and in sonic conceptualism. Orchestration devices clearly cooperate with semantics in the creation of absurd concepts.326 Key orchestration techniques in Futurist poems that represent pure nonsense include: – humour based on the homophony of words (e.g. “Melancholia” by Stern), – etymological and pseudo-etymological figures (Wat’s namopaniki, “Południe” by Stern and Czyżewski’s “Wodospad magnetycznych łez,” which is analysed in the next section), – specific sound symmetry (“Portret mój” by Stern), – palindromes (“Arak” by Stern), – alliteration, assonance and consonance, which make the poems homophonic (Wat’s namopaniki). It is rare for comic nonsense to appear only in the sphere of meanings without any instrumentation-related play (this is approximated in the non-conceptual Piecyk, which employs alliteration, consonance and assonance).327 It does happen, 325 Conceptual sound configurations would also appear for example in “Rasoir Mécanique” by Albert-Birot (cf. section three), but the entire composition has little in common with pure nonsense. 326 Still, there are exceptions, e.g. Stern’s poem “Rycerz w Kapeluszu” (quoted in fn. 297) or “Upał” by Jasieński: “pszybiegł hudy z długimi włosami / muwił groźił wymahiwał sapał / coś tłomaczył coś bardzo uśilńe // nagle zaczął podskakiwać jak piłka / i rozlećał śę jak na złym filmie / zostawiając mdły ńeznośny zapah / i w powietszu dużą pustą dźurę / tramwaj skręćił ńespodźańe z szyn / ńe zważając na gwizdki konstebluw / i potoczył śę w gurę po rynńe / końe służą na dwuh łapah jak pudle / ślepy żebrak w słomianyh sabotah // … / frunął żywcem do ńeba na szczudle / … ogulńe szanowany profesor x // z british collegium / z głową łysą jak głobus / odpażywszy podeszwy od rozgżanyh płyt / najńespodźewańej zdjął cylinder / i na głowie udał śę do swojego mieszkańa / pszy ul. backer-street” (Jednodńuwka futurystuw. Mańifesty futuryzmu polskiego, 3) [the skinny one came with long hair / saying threatening waving puffing / explaining something with passion // suddenly be began to bounce like a ball / and fell apart like in a bad film / leaving a nauseating unbearable stench / and a huge empty hole in the air / the tram turned unexpectedly from its tracks / disregarding the whistling of constables / and rolled up on the drainpipe / horses are begging on two feet like poodles / a blind beggar in straw sabots // … / flew alive to heaven on stilts / … generally respected professor x // from british collegium / his head bald like a globe / chafed his soles from hot paving / unexpectedly took off his top hat / and went on his head to his flat / in backer-street]. 327 We should keep in mind the folk patterns that influenced Futurism; cf. fn. 256 and Chapter Four. For Author use only Pure nonsense of Dadaist or native origin? 331 however, that a textual concept is rooted primarily in unusual sonic character, in which case the nearly absurd semantics moves into the background (e.g. in “Portret mój” and “Arak” by Stern), while phonic configurations are very precise and carefully thought-out. Despite semantic absurdity these works remain within the “ghetto of logic” in terms of construction, contrary to what is suggested in the manifesto “Do narodu polskiego” [To the Polish nation]. The question of “Dadaist or local pure nonsense” should be thus answered: primarily the latter. Conceptual pure nonsense, usually motivated both in semantic and sonic terms, is a specialty of Polish Futurism. It seems relatively rare in Dadaism and is almost entirely absent in works by Marinetti or Khlebnikov. We should also remember that Polish pure-nonsense poems sometimes reveal strong ties with the literary tradition – after all, humour based on homophony or palindromic structures is not new. Although we may identify in these constructions the ludic spirit of Dadaism, there are also much louder echoes of the older literary spirit of pure nonsense. It is thus not without reason that Ważyk claims: Poems by Warsaw’s Futurists written before 1924, when their time ended, remain in the circle of absurd, black humour, grotesque and hyperbole. … Their achievement was that traditionally conceived meaning ceased to dominate in poetry. The boundaries of nonsense, just like those of grotesque, became fluid, although these new features would not always become concentrated and could be dispersed in many threads within a given poem.328 The comical absurdization of poetry is certainly one of Futurism’s achievements. We may debate to what degree the devices employed by an ephemeral group affected the later course of Polish literature, but it seems that the par excellence ludic pure nonsense – augmented by scandalous para-artistic practices – could not go entirely unnoticed.329 Methods used to produce pure nonsense demonstrate that Polish Futurism, despite declaring that it would break away from literary tradition, remained closely connected to literary canons. At the same time, however, despite poetic 328 Ważyk, Dziwna historia awangardy, 42. 329 “Futurist poems fell into oblivion after some time, but certain people were familiar with them. Gombrowicz was among them. In Ferdydurke he deployed the grotesque and the absurd to unmask the inadequacies of official cultural patterns for empirical life, and reveal immaturity as a social phenomenon. In my view this has a lot in common with Futurism” (Ważyk, Dziwna historia awangardy, 42). Witkacy commented on the activities of Polish Futurists in the following way: “liberating art from meaning understood in logical and practical terms opened new, unknown horizons before composition, or Pure Form. But this has to be really achieved. Senselessness shall not yield anything in the formal dimension if it is practiced for its own sake, or if it becomes realistic senselessness – a malignant tumour on the body of art, no better than realism in any way” (Witkiewicz, “Parę zarzutów,” 121–2. Cf. fn. 33). For Author use only 332 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? conceptualism and greater conservatism than the Dadaists, the Polish movement certainly belongs in the broader avant-garde current of turning tradition inside out (as confirmed by subversive poems such as “Portret mój” by Stern or Wat’s namopaniki). 5. L  udic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? This section primarily discusses a specific type of Futurist and Dadaist texts, namely ones based on enumeration or juxtaposition,330 which contain idiosyncra­ tic catalogues of heterogeneous items or events listed in accordance with rules that seem obscure, at least initially. A perfect commentary to the literary registers presented here was offered by Max Ernst: In 1919 I found myself, on one rainy day, in a certain city on the river Rhine and recognized the obsessive impression left in me by a certain illustrated catalogue featuring items designated for demonstrations in the fields of anthropology, microscope-based research, psychology, mineralogy and palaeontology … These elements astonished me with their diversity. The sheer absurdity of their combinations suddenly intensified my visionary powers, while the hallucinatory progression of contradictory, overlapping images could be compared in terms of pace and persistence only to reminiscences of amorous character. These images demanded, as if on their own accord, that new unknown territories open where they can meet.331 330 Enumeration and juxtaposition are naturally two different devices, but it should be indicated that they share the ability to specifically order longer units in the poem. In texts that experiment with syntax these two figures can sometimes even blend. Jarosiński makes the following remark about Futurist juxtaposition: “New poetry [from the circles of Futurism and Nowa Sztuka] ultimately did not reject sentence structure but eliminated its rhetorical aspects and syntactic smoothness … deeming juxtaposition (as the innovators would do, especially those writing for Almanach) to be the crucial creative principle. … Juxtaposition could be identified in most artistic innovations originating in Futurism. In terms of imagery it was primarily the heterogeneity of components, equating cultural signals with everyday objects, technology and nature, valuable aesthetic phenomena and non-aesthetic ones, and the privileged position of metaphor as the key poetic device … In terms of the poem’s construction this resulted in the discontinuity of lyrical development, which would sometimes resemble the inadvertent process of free association, but would also often manifest as an intrinsic and purposeful compositional technique … Unexpected juxtaposition would also help to achieve characteristic stylistic effects: grotesque humour and general absurdity or casualness, suggesting that chance plays a part in the creative process” (Zbigniew Jarosiński, “Futuryzm,” in Słownik literatury polskiej XX wieku, 318–9). 331 Qtd. after Janicka, Surrealizm, 83. For Author use only Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? 333 The goal of analysis in this section is to ascertain whether Polish Futurism is characterized by the appearance of loose sequences of words or phrases liberated from all constraints of semantics and coherence, or rather primarily by sonic-semantic conceptualism observable in many works discussed so far in this study. Owing to their construction and meaning, enumeration- and juxtaposition-based poems by the Futurists resemble cabinets of curiosities. Combinations of incongruent themes are strongly associated with Dadaism,332 which praised randomness not rooted in any logic, and proclaimed freedom of all artistic endeavours. Apart from Dadaist pieces, further analytical context is provided by Marinetti’s concept of “words in freedom,” which was instrumental in the development of Dadaism and crucial in the Polish context.333 Let us begin with a poem whose relations with the discussed problem are suggested already in the title: “Transcendentalne panopticum” [Transcendental Wunderkammer] by Czyżewski: kołyszą się wszystkie chusteczki flagi flakony filiżanki lajkoniki barbarzyńskie lajkostrzygi jarmarczne piękności i budy waterklozety natur nadzmysłów woskowe figury mordercy geniusze generałowie z przyrządem elektryczno-zegarowym nakręcany kluczem mickiewicz pisze odę do młodości ze sztucznymi lokami tegethof admirał lunety płótna okręty kwiaty kwitną jaszczurki jaszczyki rozpruwacze mordercy garbaci geniusze rzezimieszkowie zdegenerowane wazy nocne sztuki stosowanej figury z wosku figury z wosku tańczą poruszane elektrycznością tańczą zakochane pary nadfigury 332 See the remarks by Ważyk on the differences in structures of juxtaposition between cubist and surrealist poetry (Adam Ważyk, “Miejsce kubizmu,” in Szkice literackie, Warszawa 1982, 200–4). 333 This part of the study refers also to works verging on pure nonsense and employing surrealist metaphors. It is not assumed that questions analysed in individual sections are disconnected; in fact, the issues in question do overlap. For Author use only 334 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? menueta mazury morengo marino manekiny ta ta ta monolity maria teresa car paweł katarzyna król edward książę poniatowski napoleon ibsen rozbawieni roztańczeni rozlalkowani zgalwanizowani obok olbrzymia elektromechanizm żywiołowa instynktowna pianola samo gramofon ta – rah elektryczny geniusz panoptyczny (tańczy) : ja tańcze m ̨ enueta wspomnień łez i kręconych kręgosłupów elektryczny napoleon (nakręcony tańczy) : genialny jestem zagładca grający na mandolinie wieków mickiewicz panoptyczny : objąłem wszystek elektroglob tańczą ze mną nakręcane gwiazdy … (wchodzi) DYREKTOR PANOPTICUM : panowie i panie ja właściciel panopticum szanowne publicum zobaczyć chodźcie oto wielki napoleon wewnątrz samogrający nakręcany oto elektryczny mickiewicz piszący magnesowym piórem zamówiłem nowe modele w drodze : żorż san : napoleon żołnierz nieznany spod werdę : hamlet z ofelią : szopen konający : d’anuncjo śpiący i wstający : dante na elektrycznych drutach wstąpcie oglądajcie ostatni dzień sensacyjny ostateczna słoneczna sposobność ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– For Author use only Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? wszystkie elektromanekiny (razem) kochamy się kochamy się kochamy się raz raz raz ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– (Dzwonią we wszystkie sentymentalne dzwony wszystkich urano-kościołów kaplic kąpieli eteru i zórz gwiazd pierwotnych polarnych i burz i słońc). publiczność i manekiny (razem) kochajmy się kochajmy się kochajmy się my magnetyczne trupy ziemi raz raz raz płódźmy się ródźmy sie elektryzujmy się zmanekinizujmy świat dyrektor publiczność manekiny (tańczą) elektro – piano – kataryna gra ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– Ja: jako twórca elektro światów mego mózgu ja medium samego siebie pierwszy elektromagnetyczny poeta i malarz tytus czyżewski zahypnotyzowałem moje myśli przebrnąłem przeszedłem sentencję sentymentalizmu wchodzę w życie tworzę morze elektronów burz w mym mózgu daję sztukę i hypnoprawa zwierzęcych gniazd elektro–mediumicznego instynktu. [all the handkerchiefs are swaying flags flasks cups barbaric wooden horses demons market beauties and stalls For Author use only 335 336 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? water-closets of natures and super-senses wax figures murderers geniuses generals with electric-clock equipment a wind-up mickiewicz is writing the ode to youth with fake curls tegetthoff admiral spyglasses canvas ships flowers blooming lizards military carts rippers murderers hunchbacked geniuses cutpurses degenerate night vases of applied art wax figures wax figures dance moved by electricity the pairs in love dance super-figures menuet mazurkas morengo marino mannequins thump thump thump monoliths mary therese tzar paul catherine king edward prince poniatowski napoleon ibsen amused dancing dolled-up galvanized besides the giant electromechanism lively instinctual pianola self grammophone ta – rah electric genius of wunderkammer (dances) : I am dancing a menuet of memories of tears and twisted spines electric napoleon (wound-up he dances) : I am a genius exterminator playing the mandolin of ages a wunderkammer mickiewicz : I embraced all electroglobe wound-up stars are dancing with me … For Author use only Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? (enters) WUNDERKAMMER DIRECTOR : ladies and gentlemen I am the owner of the wunderkammer my dear public come look here is the great napoleon inside playing automatically wound-up here is the electric mickiewicz writing with a magnetic pen I ordered new models they are coming : george san : napoleon unkown solider from verdun : hamlet with ophelia : dying chopin : d’annunzio sleeping and waking up : dante on electric wires come by admire the last day of sensation the last sunny occasion ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– all the electro-mannequins (together) we love each other we love each other we love each other once once once ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– (All the sentimental bells are ringing in all urano-churches chapels baths ether and twilights primal and polar stars and storms and suns). the public and mannequins (together) let us love each other let us love each other let us love each other we the magnetic corpses of earth once once once let us procreate be born pick up static let us mannequine the world director audience mannequins (dance) electro – piano – hurdy-gurdy is playing ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– For Author use only 337 338 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Me: as the creator of the electro-worlds of my brain I the medium of myself the first electromagnetic poet and painter tytus czyżewski hypnotized my own thoughts I ploughed my way through overcame the sentence of sentimentalism I enter life creating a sea of electrons storms in my brain I give art and hypno-laws of animal nests of electro-mediumic instinct.] (Czyż., Pipd 110–4; emphasis in bold preserved; underlining added) At first glance, the text by Czyżewski may appear to be a relatively random composition, a melange of inattentively arranged words and phrases forming a wobbly, ludic and farmer-market-like construction.334 The first signal regarding experi­ mentation is the typesetting. On the page, the poem resembles a long snake of variously-sized fonts, with varying spaces between words and surprisingly used simple typographic means, e.g. rows of hyphens. Affinity with Dadaism can be also detected in meaning. The text contains entirely incongruent elements: cups, wooden horses, water-closets, flowers, lizards, “degenerate night vases” or “mannequinned” mechanical artists. “High” culture is parodied and its creators pushed off from the pedestal into a noisy farmer-market theatre scene,335 which neverthe­ less soon turns out to be the “theatre of the mind” of an artist captivated by the concept of electromagnetic instinct:336 the “electromagnetic poet and painter Tytus Czyżewski.” This chaos is both disturbing and grotesque, even ironic or simply 334 For more on comic juxtapositions of objects and phenomena that are “distant, disproportionate … or absolutely disparate” see Dziemidok, O komizmie, 67–9; see also Bystroń, Komizm, 107–8, 117–8, 165–70. 335 For more on the comic character of marionette-like figures, see Henri Bergson, Śmiech. Esej o komizmie, trans. S. Cichowicz, Kraków 1977, 116. The seriousness of actions taken by figures from “Panopticum” by Czyżewski (writing poems, dying) becomes comic and grotesque precisely by way of thorough objectification of the protagonists in this market scene. 336 Andrzej Lam, “Awangarda poetycka wczoraj i dziś,” in Z teorii i praktyki awangar­ dyzmu, 17. For Author use only Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? 339 comic, just like the world represented (or perhaps suggested) in many Dadaist works. It is not without reason that Hans Richter, one of the Dadaists, would claim: We laughed at everything. We laughed at ourselves just as we laughed at Emperor, King and Country, fat-bellies and baby-pacifiers. We took our laughter seriously; laughter was the only guarantee of the seriousness with which, on our voyage of selfdiscovery, we practised anti-art.337 In accordance with Richter’s Dadaist directive (verbalized ex post), Czyżewski does not shy away from iconoclastic objectification of famous historical figures. Fascination with randomness and laughter can be also connected with the poem’s construction, not just its meaning.338 The structure is relatively loose and bases primarily on various associations. It is by no means a homogenous, precise and fully logical composition, also in terms of sound. Phonic approximations are only a local motivation and do not explain all word combinations in the poem. Let us now consider certain crucial sound sequences. Large parts of the text are comprised by long enumerations that elude syntactic rules. In the poem by Czyżewski, the decision to neglect clear sentence structure is often connected by foregrounding sound:339 neighbouring words are frequently phonically close, although combinations of words are rather disorderly in terms of meaning (e.g. the alliterating “flagi, flakony, filiżanki” [flags, flasks, cups]; the absurd pseudo-etymologies “jaszczurki – jaszczyki”340 [lizards – military carts], “kręcone kręgosłupy” [twisted spines], “kaplice kąpiele” [chapels baths] and “sentencja sentymentalizmu” [sentence of sentimentalism]). Alliterations also appear in passages that display greater coherence in semantic terms (“mannequins thump 337 Richter, Dada, 65. 338 Małgorzata Baranowska, “Prymitywizm prowokowany (Stern),” in Surrealna wyobraźnia, 236, concludes that in “Nuż w bżuhu” (the version she quotes comes from the volume Noc – Dzień, 1922; reprinted in Czyż., Pipd and in Ant.), “we can identify a circus- and street-like mark of ‘Transcendentalne panopticum’ by Tytus Czyżewski; large fonts are used … in the following advertisments: ‘woskowe figury,’ ‘figury z wosku,’ ‘a–rah / elektryczny geniusz panoptyczny,’ ‘elektryczny Napoleon,’ ‘Mickiewicz panoptyczny,’ ‘medium zahipnotyzowane,’ ‘dyrektor panopticum,’ ‘wszystkie elektromanekiny,’ ‘JA,’ ‘pierwszy elektromagnetyczny / poeta i malarz / Tytus Czyżewski’ ” (emphasis added). It is also worth to compare Czyżewski’s achievements in visual arts and literature. The quoted text is one of those poems that appear closest in terms of structure to his three-dimensional, multi-level compositions. The described market panopticum can be associated with the unusual artworks by Czyżewski: wooden drawers filled with heterogeneous elements. This is discussed more broadly in Beata Śniecikowka, Słowo – obraz – dźwięk. Literatura i sztuki wizualne w koncepcjach polskiej awangardy 1918–1939, Kraków 2005, 129–40. 339 See the findings of Janusz Sławiński in Koncepcja języka poetyckiego, 87–9. 340 According to Baluch, “jaszczyk” is a “military horse-drawn cart carrying ammu­ nition” (Czyż., Pipd 110, fn. 14). For Author use only 340 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? thump thump monoliths” dancing “menuet mazurkas morengo marino;” “hunchbacked geniuses,” who are “amused dancing / dolled-up;” “electromechanism … pianola”). The text abounds in irregular harmonies hidden in words derived from the root “elektr.” There are recurring lexemes, e.g. “panoptyczny,” “geniusz,” “menuet,” “nakręcany/nakręcony,” “manekin” and “tańczyć.” Moreover, the words “kochamy/ kochajmy się” and “raz” are repeated in close proximity. One notable factor that brings coherence to this unusual collection of curiosities is rhyme. Rhymes are irregular in this poem, sometimes bridging words in a single line (“panopticum” – “publicum;” “zórz” – “burz;” “przebrnąłem przeszedłem;” “płódźmy się ródźmy się elektryzujmy się”). At a certain point, the web of harmonies becomes a substitute of clear syntactic connections, although it is not bound by any clear rules.341 Despite using the aforementioned defamiliarizing devices, meanings remain relatively clear in this poem. “Transcendentalne panopticum” does not strictly represent pure nonsense because the juxtaposed incongruent elements are united at a higher level, where the chaotic tangle of themes acquires motivation. It is the framework of an internalized farmer’s market cabinet of curiosities, where the role of garish marvels is assigned to “mannequinned” historical figures and people of culture, who are strongly ambivalent in this context.342 “Transcendentalne panopticum” clearly differs from texts discussed in previous sections. Although its phonic dimension is exposed in certain passages, we do not encounter in this case a strong case of sound-based conceptualism. The loose, grotesque and ludic composition invites searching for Dadaist influences, although one ought to bear in mind that Czyżewski keeps a tight rein on the text in terms of composition.343 341 See Aleksandra Okopień-Sławińska, “Wiersz awangardowy dwudziestolecia mię dzywojennego (podstawy, granice, możliwości),” Pamiętnik Literacki 2 (1965), 440. 342 “Czyżewski regarded the whole of nature as one giant mechanical instinct that seemed to him to be the principle of existence … Mechanized humanity seemed ghastly to Czyżewski, but it is also intrinsic to this world and thus inescapable. This awareness, which combines tragic and comic elements, seriousness and grotesque, approval and rebellion, is expressed in one of Czyżewski’s best poems: ‘Transcendentalne panopticum.’ … It presents the future in a distorted mirror, at the same time deriding its own perspective. The mechanized, puppet-like past leads to a mechanized, mannequin-like future, ever enlarging the grotesque waxworks. The appeal ‘płódźmy się ródźmy się elektryzujmy się zmanekinizujmy świat’ is a grotesque reflection of the Futurist horizon. … Cult of technology and civilization, rejection of tradition and an optimistic belief in the future would be interpreted by Czyżewski in a way that made them less obvious or one-sided and definitely more complex” (Zaworska, O nową sztukę, 216–8; see also Dubowik, “Motywy nadrealistyczne,” 109). 343 “Transcendentalne panopticum” approximates to a certain degree surrealist one­ iric works (certainly, mannequins are typical surrealist objects. See Baranowska, “Prymitywizm prowokowany,” 236–7). However, the poem’s structural coherence and specific humour seem even more important (see the Dadaist texts quoted further). For Author use only Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? 341 Let us compare this Polish Futurist-Formist text with a Dadaist (or FuturistDadaist)344 “cabinet of curiosities” – the poem “Le coq fou” [Mad cock] by Georges Ribemont-Dessaignes: Un bienheureux flottant dans la mer des Sargasses Napoléon aux îles malaises Sémiramis au bal de l’Elysée Cuisinière amoureuse d’un poteau télégraphique Ne connait ni neuf heures ni minuit ni l’aurore Ignore le lieu précédent Cantharide Eléphant punique Moteur coccinelle Plésiosaure mitrailleuse nourrice Descente de lit pour pieds de jeune mariée Ses yeux sont montés sur tourniquet à courroie sympathie générale Estomac acide Moitié de vieille hottentote Sirius Froid du fond du ciel Eunuque à ratelier d’ébonite Ver luisant Kant ragoût niçois Girafe érudite Ile des Signes potiron Ramsès Ursule Asphodèle prèpuce hibou chau eur de taxi Astaroth Pou Sous l’aisselle qui le ramène à la basse cour Il découvre l’odeur de l’homme et l’univers sans changement Roulette 37 Amant d’une pintade Retour ivre Mais coq seule soumission fatale et symbolique Et tandis que les choisies ébrouent leur duvet Dieu à bicyclette345 344 See Berghaus, “Futurism, Dada and Surrealism,” 291. 345 Qtd. after Dada. Réimpression intégrale, 91. Also reprinted in “Anthologie Dada” (Dada 405 [1919]), 19. [Happily sailing on the Sargasso Sea / Napoleon heads to unhappy isles / Semiramis at an Elysian ball / The cook in love with a telegraph pole / Knows neither nine o’clock nor midnight or morning star / He does not remember For Author use only 342 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Just like the poem by Czyżewski, the text by Ribemont-Dessaignes is to a large extent a literary catalogue or cabinet of curiosities filled with people (as well as animals and objects) known from history and culture or entirely anonymous. Apart from Napoleon, appearances are made by Semiramis, Hannibal’s elephant as well as Kant and Ramses. They are accompanied by anonymous figures: a eunuch, a Hottentot (or her one half!), a bride, an owl, a ladybug, a glow-worm, a louse, a machine gun and a pumpkin. Just like in the case of “Transcendentalne panopticum,” large parts of the text are based on enumeration and juxtaposition. However, general similarities in terms of structure do not entail further correspondences. The Polish poem is a relatively coherent, grotesque and ludic collection of curiosities. The heterogeneous assembly of figures and objects from various historical periods and orders is justified by the compositional framework. The text by Ribemont-Dessaignes is entirely different since it dissolves into a series of suggestive, metaphorical and oneiric images. Moreover, it does not feature a lot of humour despite certain laughter-evoking passages (the “giraffe-erudite” or “one half of an old Hottentot woman”), which nevertheless disappear among the semantically unmotivated enumerations and juxtapositions. Furthermore, the poem lacks phonic patterns, even heterogeneous ones found in the text by Czyżewski. The sonic dimension is largely transparent; thus, nothing draws attention away from unusual meanings. Ernst’s description of the catalogue “designated for demonstrations in the fields of anthropology, microscopebased research, psychology, mineralogy and palaeontology,” which appears to be an undecipherable metaphor, perfectly describes this composition as an oneiric, surrealist montage. The poem by Czyżewski, on the other hand, is to a far greater degree a ludic collection of curiosities. Next, consider the following passage from another enumerative poem by Czyżewski – “Wodospad magnetycznych łez” [Waterfall of magnetic tears] (part three of “De profundis”): ja wyszedłem z ustami pełnymi klawikordów dysonansów sonat sonatin hydroburz the last place / Spanish flies / Punic elephant / Ladybird engine / Machine gun plesiosaurus feeding / Bed stairs for the bride’s feet / Her eyes looking up towards the revolving doors on a thong / general liking / Stomach hyperacidity / One half of an old Hottentot woman / Sirius / The coldness of heaven’s depths / A eunuch on an ebonite ladder / Glow-worm Kant a Nice fricassee / Giraffe-erudite / Island of Signs pumpkin Ramses / Ursula / Goldilock foreskin owl taxi driver / Astaroth / Louse / Surreptitiously leading him to the lower courtyard / He discovers the smell of human and universe without / changes / Roulette 37 / Guineafowl lover / Drunken return / But the cock the only submissiveness tragic and symbolic / And whereas only the chosen ones brush off their fluff / God on a bicycle]. Italics in the original. For Author use only Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? 343 przekleństw piżmowych wężów z kauczuku pudełek samozapalnych pożarów pożóg wodospadów łez łaknących konwalii południa położnic palących polana serc serdecznych szerokich mórz elektrycznych elektronów jęczącej Elektry piersistej pierścieni miłosnych o łożu otwartym ja wyszedłem z myślami pełnymi o rannej cietrzewiej godzinie brzaskowej … przypiąłem dwie śmigi oślizłe grające i idę i idę i idę ja [I walked out with my mouth full of clavichords dissonances sonatas sonatinas hydro-storms curses of musk serpents from rubber boxes of self-igniting fires conflagrations waterfalls of tears longing for lilies of the south lying-in women who burn the logs of hearts cordial broad seas of electricity electrons of moaning bosomy Electra love rings of open beds I walked out with loads of thoughts at the early black grouse hour of daybreak … I attached two bevel squares slimy and resounding and I walk I walk I walk me] (Czyż., Pipd 81–2; emphasis added) Despite significant difficulty with explicating the poem, the composition of “Wodospad” appears to be less chaotic than that of “Transcendentalne panopticum.” We deal here with sequences of interlocking enumerations that are motivated sonically rather than semantically. Apart from alliteration, Czyżewski employs several etymological figures (e.g. “serc” – “serdecznych” [based on the stem “serc/ serd” – “heart”]; “elektryczne” – “elektrony” [based on the stem “elektr”]) and pseudo-etymological ones (e.g. “południe” – “położnice” [the south – lying-in women]; “piersista” – “pierścienie” [bosomy – rings]). Use of identical or phonically close clusters of sounds is one of the basic principles governing this text, e.g. in the sequence “południa położnic palących polana,” in which only the last two words share origin. Because the poem is imbued with long sequences of paronyms suggesting common etymology, readers are inclined to seek relations between individual words rather than to establish the meaning of the work as a whole. Thus, the poem crumbles into passages that are made coherent through sound; consequently, readers who trace the motivations behind elaborate phonic configurations may lose sight of the entire composition. As a result, next to works like For Author use only 344 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Stern’s “Południe” or “Portret mój” this poem constitutes one of the most distinct examples of Futurist sound-based conceptualism. Moreover, readers face the difficult task of segmenting the enumerative chains of words and phrases. Depending on the way in which we group sequences of words, we may identify different poetic images, although they are usually absurd or purely nonsensical.346 The quoted passage occasionally appears to be comical and could be regarded as a feast of linguistic jokes (with particularly ludic passages being “przekleństwa piżmowych wężów z kauczuku” [curses of musk serpents from rubber] and “śmigi oślizłe grające” [bevel squares slimy and resounding]). Although the above quotation contains the most paronymic sequence, it cannot be read without considering the meaning of the entire poem. The cited lines are preceded by: trzymające się z dala ręce fortepiany chore maszyny cierpiące łzy starych domów przedmieść wojennych Przędzalnie śmiertelnych całusów całusy ucałowania rąk trupich [hands keeping to themselves grand pianos sick suffering machines tears of old houses of wartime suburbs Mills of deathly kisses love and kisses from corpse hands] (Czyż., Pipd 80–1) The comical character of the poem as a whole is blocked by lexemes such as “łzy” [tears], “chore” [sick], “cierpiące” [suffering] and “wojenne” [of wartime]. Such a context emphasizes the ambiguity of other words in the poem (e.g. “ranna” means both “of morning” and “wounded”). Lack of a clear textual framework and an opaque lyrical situation also make it difficult to identify the poem’s modality. The poetic “set of non-hierarchical elements”347 can be connected with the concept 346 However, there is clear difference between the passages: “ja wyszedłem z ustami pełnymi … przekleństw, piżmowych wężów z kauczuku, pudełek, samozapalnych pożarów, pożóg, wodospadów, łez, łaknących konwalii południa, położnic palą cych polana, serc serdecznych, szerokich mórz elektrycznych elektronów, jęczącej Elektry piersistej” and “ja wyszedłem z ustami pełnymi … przekleństw piżmowych wężów z kauczuku, pudełek samozapalnych, pożarów, pożóg, wodospadów łez łaknących konwalii południa, położnic palących polana serc, serdecznych szerokich mórz elektrycznych, elektronów jęczącej Elektry piersistej.” These are only two possible ways of interfering with the text through punctuation, but their comparison reveals significant changes in semantics. In each case, however, amassed images prove unclear in terms of meaning and often even absurd. 347 Term developed by Okopień-Sławińska, “Wiersz awangardowy,” 442, in relation to the discussed text by Czyżewski. For Author use only Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? 345 of “words in freedom”348 but this is certainly not a relation of strict dependence (Marinetti’s postulate is not consistently realized here). At this point we should recall the category developed by Sławiński, namely one of automatic harmonies, which he views as characteristic for those Polish Futurist poems that refer to the idea of parole in libertà.349 “Wodospad” constitutes one of the clearest examples of utilizing this relation between words. The obscurity of word relations causes phonic proximities to be regarded as automatic, motivated (as it were) purely by sound. The discussed text by Czyżewski is oneiric and highly metaphorical. The conceptual foregrounding of its sound and the unusual character of enumerations bring it closer to a surreal and occasionally ludic collection of curiosities. “Wodospad” can be fruitfully compared with passages from Arp’s “aus dem ‘cacadou supérieur’ ” [from “cacadou supérieur”]: pup pup pup machen die elektrischen gewitter und vom astrolabium springt die glasur die feuermännlein am kleinen feuerpult rollt seinen nasenwürfel und zeigt frühlingsverheiβend bald ein bald zehn augen mächtige Eislandscha en hängen wie riesige silberne quasten in den dunkelgrünen himmel. minutenmispelminavonbarnhelm bitzbarvonmannhelm von holzhelm helmholz huch huch … in den laubwäldern zirpen die laubsägen der havarierten vögel die zinoberroten bechertiere schieben sich ineinander wie chinesische schachteln die hampelsterne hampelblumen und hampelmänner durchschneiden ihre bindfäden die cartesischen taucher sausen in ihren sa anledernen kutschen in die salinen die schöner sind als die gärten ludwig des XIV 348 Okopień-Sławińska, “Wiersz awangardowy,” 442, argues: “The poem’s sound struc­ ture became a way of ignoring syntax when the development of word sequences based primarily on analogies in the sound material of neighbouring words and not the syntactic relations between them. The latter were not entirely obliterated (this would mean shedding even the appearance of meaning) but weakened through various means” (“Wiersz awangardowy,” 440). As the scholar adds, referring to “Wodospad magnetycznych łez:” “The counterpart to the Futurist postulate of ‘words in freedom’ in the area of the poem’s structure was to attempt to upset the coherence of lines, which constitute the basic structural unit in poetry, just like the sentence is the basic structural unit in prose. This manifests in lines being filled with loose elements in a disorderly manner. The simplest way to achieve this is to enumerate non-hierarchized elements.” 349 See Introduction, 44–5. For Author use only 346 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? langsam steige ich die meilenstange hinauf in die astlöcher der meilensteine lege ich meine eier.350 The poem by Arp initially appears to be a ludic, Dadaist collection of curiosities, a farmer-market-like stall of a “word-sorcerer.” The text opens with the proper onomatopoeia “pup pup pup;” then, glaze begins to flow from the astrolabe and a small man jumps out. Still, the following lines are entirely non-comical and the alleged collection of curiosities turns out to be so unusual that the juxtaposed images can be regarded as either nonsensical or deeply metaphorical. Relations between lines are often blurred, while individual lines (frequently incoherent) seem semantically connected only to the slightest degree. Unlike certain passages from Czyżewski, this poem does not evoke laughter, offering instead a series of overlapping and highly oneiric images. Certain passages from Arp’s text are linked not through semantic proximity of neighbouring words but that of corresponding sounds, e.g. in clusters like “holzhelm helmholz huch huch,” “hampelsterne” – “hampelblumen” – “hampelmänner,” or “steige” – “meilenstange” – “meilensteine” – “meine eier.” However, although these sonic correspondences are relatively few and far between in the entire work, they are not nearly as elaborate as the (pseudo)etymological passages from Czyżewski’s “Wodospad.” Moreover, the unsettling etymological figures do not create comical tension. Finally, the Dadaist text is far less coherent than the compositions by Czyżewski. The only juxtaposition-based Dadaist text that approximates the sound structure identified in “Wodospad” (though less elaborate) is the already quoted purenonsense “sonic trifle” by Ernst titled “Gertrud.”351 It is a short, conceptual piece in which juxtaposition- and enumeration-based patterns are merely suggested. In comparison with the poem by Czyżewski, however, it appears all the more unclear what is the semantic motivation behind the textual encounters of paronyms 350 Qtd. after DADA total, 220–1; emphasis added (the entire text was reprinted in the anthology DADA. 113 Gedichte, 152–5; an excerpt was also published as “Die Schwalbenhode” in Dada Almanach, 145–6). [poop poop poop go electric storms / and glaze jumps out of the astrolabe / tiny fireman on a small fire pulpit rolls his nose bones and shows / prophesying spring soon soon ten eyes / mighty ice landscapes hang like giant silver tassels on a dark green sky / minutesmispelminavonbarnhelm bitzbarvonmannhelm von woodenhelm helmy wood huch huch / … / in foreststates buzz chain saws of catastrophized birds / vermillion polyps enter each other like Chinese boxes / Redstars redflowers and dwarves cut their threads / Cartesian divers in their saffian phaetons salt mines / more beautiful than the gardens of louis xiv / I slowly climb the telegraph pole / in hollows of kilometre stones I lay eggs]. Much of the line “minutesmispelminavonbarnhelm” is a play with sounds based on syllables and sounds contained in the name of the heroine in Lessing’s drama – Minna von Barnhelm. 351 Text described on pp. 392–5. For Author use only Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? 347 in the Dadaist text. Finally, “Gertrud” seems to be a rather isolated example of a ­juxtaposition- and orchestration-driven Dadaist experiment (as the following examples demonstrate). As is clear, orchestration-based “curio cabinets” gathering various items appear to be comical in Polish, at least to some degree, due to their heterogeneity and means of its presentation. Still, we should indicate other kinds of texts. In another enumeration- and juxtaposition-based poem by Czyżewski, titled “Elektryczne wizje” [Electric visions], we read: Miliony miliony mil Dzwony z kryształu Zamarzłe Rzeki Szkielet i Pysk miliony miliony mil Niewola Rozpacz Noc Zorza miliony miliony mil Niebo palące się Słońca miliony miliony Mil Zielone niebieskie żółte miliony miliony Mil Od tańca zgięły się nogi trzęsie się brzuch Ludzie Zwierzęta Jaszczury Tańczą trumny ideałów Miliony miliony mil ho ho ha Taniec cynizmu Taniec zębatych kół Ogień Ziemia Woda Dyamenty chryzopazy szafiry Rad INRI Wywieszono tabliczkę na patrz W górze płacze nad miastem Krzyż który bełkoce Kłapie cynową tablicą Pije żółć O U O Trzy razy darła błyskawica Objawienie mechaniczny cud Grób zbudowany z brylantów Motorowa przędzalnia i mózg Kołyska z dzieckiem co kwili Łamiące się słońce i ból For Author use only 348 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Ogień Orzeł Ziemi Dynamo Machina Ganimed i jego Pan Pam Bam Ziemia Woda352 [Millions millions of miles Crystal bells Frozen rivers Skeleton and Snout millions millions of miles Captivity Despair Night Twilight millions millions of miles Sky burning Sun millions millions of Miles Green blue yellow millions millions of Miles Legs bent from dancing the belly shaking People Animals Lizards Coffins of ideals dancing Millions millions of miles ho ho ha Dance of cynicism Dance of cog-wheels Fire Earth Water Diamonds chrysoprases sapphires Radium A plaque was hanged see INRI High over the city there cries A jabbering cross Flapping the tin-lead plate Drinks bile O U O Three times the lightning tore The revelation a mechanical miracle A grave built with diamonds 352 Due to greater visual clarity of the original printing, which affects phonic clarity, the poem is quoted after Tytus Czyżewski, Zielone oko. Poezje formistyczne. Elektryczne wizje, Kraków 1920, 63–4; emphasis preserved. For Author use only Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? 349 Dynamo A motor spinning mill and brain A cradle with a whimpering baby Breaking sun and pain Machine Earth Eagle Ganymede and his Lord Fire Pam Bam Earth Water] Employing the avant-garde convention of “words in freedom,” Czyżewski describes a cosmic dance that brings together elements, minerals, people, animals, skeletons, machines and finally “coffins of ideals” as well as abstract notions (despair, cynicism) and cradle or cross. Dynamism is introduced by combinations of nouns that follow the aesthetics of parole in libertà,353 e.g. the assonance-based (visually underlined by “y”) sequence “Dyamenty chryzoprazy szafiry.”354 The diversity of the cosmic procession is underscored by the poem’s typesetting: italics and bold, horizontal and vertical writing, varying font sizes, contrasting majuscule and miniscule, and the use of iconic signs. The text manages to reconcile the sublime355 with naturalism (“Od tańca zgięły się nogi trzęsie się brzuch” [Legs bent from dancing the belly shaking]; “Krzyż który bełkoce / Kłapie cynową tablicą” [A jabbering cross/ Flapping the tin-lead plate]). It is the configuration of sounds that performs an ordering function here since the poem is organized around echoing repetitions of the phrase “miliony miliony mil” as well as the polyptoton “tańczyć” [to dance] and the etymological figure “tańczyć” [to dance] – “taniec” [a dance]. Repetitions create the impression of textual order and simultaneously homogenize the poem in terms of sound. The 353 For more information on the role of noun ordering in Futurist poetry see Baczyński, Syty Paraklet, 26. 354 In later editions, due to modernization of orthography the word “dyamenty” is spel­ led “diamenty,” changing the visual and phonic perception of relations in this line. 355 As Jarosław Płuciennik notes in Figury niewyobrażalnego. Notatki z poetyki wznio­ słości w literaturze polskiej, Kraków 2002, 14–15, “in studies of the sublime attempts were made to catalogue such elements …: great rivers, ocean, sun, moon and stars, craters of active volcanoes, gods, demons, hell, ghosts, human souls, miracles, magical formulas, spells, thunder, storm, roaring sea, floods, rivers, earthquakes, monsters, serpents, lions, tigers, … gigantic zeppelins, airplanes, space ships, rockets and nuclear explosions. All of them can be named and grasped conceptually, but they pose a challenge to individual imagination, especially when directly facing them. These are things of this world, but their form (or formlessness) also suggests something ungraspable.” For Author use only 350 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? composition by Czyżewski also owes its phonic distinctiveness to onomatopoeias (“bełkoce,” “kłapie,” “kwili”) and exclamations (“ho ho ha”). Still, this text certainly cannot be called a ludic collection of curiosities. Its harmonies, which are far from pseudo-etymological conceptualism, are not a means of achieving comical effect. The imprecise and unclear vision should be primarily associated with the poetics of dreams. It is thus possible to compare this poem for example with the poems “Rasoir Mécanique” by Albert-Birot356 or Huelsenbeck’s “Schalaben–schalabei–schalamezomai.”357 In the Polish work, sound patterns turn out to be more distinctly developed and the web of harmonies is much denser than in the case of the aforementioned Dadaist texts. At the same time, it is a more traditional composition, with rhymes, frequent repetitions and no glossolalias. Another juxtaposition-based Futurist poem is “W szpitalu obłąkanych” [At a lunatic asylum] by Czyżewski: Prawa ręka fala złota lewa ręka fala srebrna koła zielone dwa kłąb wężów myśli miedzianych skaczących na trotuarze dzin dzin dzin Dzwoneczki Greloteczki cztery miedziane lichtarze Siostra brat Siostra miłosierdzia skrzydła białe głowa koguta Dwie obręcze białe oczy wypłowiałe I rzęsy kraty żelazne zamykają mój dzień dzień dzień dzień Myśli Myśli mkną seledynowe chmury Przyjechali goście stanęli na moście a–a–a–a kotki dwa szare bure 356 Cf. section three in this chapter. 357 Cf. section four in this chapter. For Author use only Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? obydwa a teraz wchodzę w metampsychozę Idę ubierać Boga w jego sypialni idę do jadalni w Raju Półmiski z kości słoniowej Talerze z masy perłowej Dzień dobry Ci Boże Panie doktorze Dzień dobry [Right hand golden wave left hand silver wave green circles two a tangle of snakes brass thoughts jumping on the pavement ding ding ding Bells Grelots four brass candlesticks Sister brother Sister of mercy white wings cock’s head Two white hoops faded eyes And the iron bars of eyelashes close my day day day day Thoughts Thoughts willow green clouds speed through The guests arrived and stood on the bridge a–a–a–a two cats grey and brown both now I am entering metempsychosis I am going to dress God in his bedroom For Author use only 351 352 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? I walk to the dining room in Heaven Ivory serving platters Mother-of-pearl dishes Good morning to you God Doctor Good morning] (Czyż., Pipd 95–7; emphasis added)358 Just like in the case of other poems discussed here, development of this poetic construction was made possible in some of the recipes prepared by Marinetti. Czyżewski used nouns liberated from the shackles of syntax, employed onomatopoeias and paid attention to the text’s visual side.359 “Choppy syntax”360 perfectly matches the text’s thematic dimension, reflecting the alogical, associative thought and speech of the lyrical subject, who is a patient in the eponymous hospital.361 This piece is also entwined with a web of harmonies dominated by lexical repetitions (“ręka,” “fala,” “siostra,” “białe”), examples of consonance and assonance (“Dzwoneczki Greloteczki / cztery”) and onomatopoeias362 (“dzin dzin dzin” and the analogous “dzień dzień dzień”). There are also interesting, irregular and unusual rhymes: tautological (“ręka” – “ręka,” “białe” – “białe”), internal (“dzwoneczki” – “greloteczki”) and approximate (in the assonance “złota” – “srebrna;” the framing rhyme “wchodzę” – “metampsychozę”). An important function is also played by the quotation from the popular lullaby about grey and brown cats – a passage clearly ordered in terms of sound repetition (“a a a a” – “dwa” – “obydwa”), which is invariably associated with singing, thus additionally underscoring the poem’s sonic dimension.363 Furthermore, the lines “Przyjechali goście stanęli 358 Text quoted in Cahiers Dada Surréalisme 2 (1968) (“Un dadaïsme polonais?,” 108–11). In the original printing (Jednodńuwka futurystuw. Mańifesty futuryzmu polskiego) it was spelled phonetically, but subsequent editions have not introduced significant changes in the visual composition. 359 From the perspective outlined by Marinetti, Czyżewski overuses adjectives, retur­ ning in certain parts of the text to syntactic order, which the Futurist already regarded as obsolete (see fn. 111 in Chapter One). 360 Term developed by Skubalanka to describe the syntactic structure of some works by Polish Futurists (Skubalanka, “Polska poezja futurystyczna,” 12). 361 See Dubowik, “Motywy nadrealistyczne,” 108. 362 Prokop claims that “words in freedom” often become “onomatopoeic sounds, ceasing to be regular, meaning-carrying words” (Jan Prokop, Euklides i barbarzyńcy, Warszawa 1964, 27; see also Sławiński, Koncepcja języka poetyckiego, 88–9; cf. also the considerations in Introduction). 363 Remarks on repetitions and tautological rhymes direct us toward the category of repeated words, as indicated by Balcerzan. However, in the case “Szpital” they are not the text’s constitutive element (as is the case of works like Khlebnikov’s “Incantation by laughter”). For Author use only Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? 353 na / moście” can be read as a musical reference to the lyrics of some folk song.364 Finally, the heterogeneity of harmonic structures dovetails with the unhurried, associative course taken by the poem as a whole. Just like in the passage from “Elektryczne wizje,” sonic proximities have little to do here with ludic, conceptualist play. “W szpitalu obłąkanych” is an oneiric text that employs surrealist metaphors (already in terms of the overall framework, suggesting a lunatic’s delirium). The piece can be compared with a passage from Huelsenbeck’s juxtaposition-based Dadaist poem “Ende der Welt” [End of the world]:365 Soweit ist es nun tatsächlich mit dieser Welt gekommen Auf den Telegraphenstangen sitzen die Kühe und spielen Schach So melancholisch singt der Kakadu unter den Röcken der spanischen Tänzerin wie ein Stabstrompeter und die Kanonen jammern den ganzen Tag Das ist die Landschaft in Lila von der Herr Mayer sprach als er das Auge verlor366 Just like other quoted Dadaist texts, this one – based on juxtaposition and oneiric atmosphericity – does not feature deeper harmonies. Unlike in Czyżewski, sound is not particularly valorized here. Only several, conventional sound devices are employed in this work, e.g. onomatopoeia (“jammern”) and rare alliterations (“spielen Schach,” “Landschaft in Lila”). This section would not be complete without Aleksander Wat’s “Gothic dreams of the soul” – passages from the long poem JA z jednej strony i JA z drugiej strony mego mopsożelaznego piecyka, which contains several fascinating, juxtapositionbased passages featuring “collections of curiosities,” e.g.: DZIEŃ. Ślepe rzęsy majolików, obgorzałe kaptury i krochmalone źrenice, obrzękłe ramię i rozgwar moich pięści. Szalone rozkosze małego palca najmniejszego! … Przedmieścia, szale z Kaszmiru, figurki peruwiańskie z wosku, świąteczne maszkary i “przedmiot” subtelnych kochanek z Lesbos. Piersi Herodiady, a ziemia kudłata krwawiąca na czarodziejskim talerzu z jaszmy błękitu i powiek. 364 See Przyboś, Jabłonka, 180, 222, 382, 397. 365 For an interesting analysis of this text see Stahl, Anti-Kunst und Abstraktion, 243–5. 366 Qtd. after DADA total, 66. English translation by Ralph Manheim (after Richter, Dada, 53): “This is what things have come to in this world / The cows sit on the telegraph poles and play chess / The cockatoo under the skirts of the Spanish dancer / Sings as sadly as a headquarters bugler and the cannon lament all day / That is the lavender landscape Herr Mayer was talking about / when he lost his eye.” For Author use only 354 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? [DAY. Blind eyelashes of maiolica, weather-beaten hoods and starched pupils, swollen arm, and the din of my fists. The frantic pleasures of the little finger the smallest! … Suburbs, cashmere shawls, Peruvian wax figures, holiday monsters, and the “object” of subtle lovers from Lesbos. The bosom of Herodias, and the furry earth bleeding on the magic plate from the jasper of blue and eyelids.] (Wat, Ww 28) BLASKI PIEKIEŁ … Szpitalny zapach. Ruysbroek l’Admirable. Sancta Lilias w gronie młodych jęd[r]‌nych czarownic. Zwierciadła o podwójnych licach. Zwiędłe liście w zczerniałych szkaplerzykach[.] Ktoś chrusta skronią. Dokładna, wyraźna jak północ pora lśnień apaszy. [LIGHTS OF HELL … Hospital smell. Ruysbroek l’Admirable. Sancta Lilias in the group of young, supple witches. Double-faced mirrors. Withered leaves in blackened scapulars. Someone is grinding their temple. Precise, clear as midnight – the time of shining scarves.] (Wat, Ww 35–7) ODRODZENIE. Cekiny z ultrafioletów prężkowane chorobą, napęczniałe mlekiem jak pierś. Rzuty krzyczące a suche. Smutna dola – hałaśliwa dola. Upokorzenie dojrzałych granatów, których już nie będzie (starożytne rody giną). Złotowłosy młody król rażony nieuleczalną chorobą. (Choroby pokażą ci swoje żółte paznokcie, gdzie łabędzie snują dziwną pieśń nieskończoności. Radzę ci zniweczyć niepoczęte) i paź o oczach bazaltowych oceanów. [REBIRTH. Ultraviolet sequins striped with sickness, ripe with milk like a breast. Throws screaming yet dry. Sad lot – noisy lot. The humiliation of ripe pomegrantes, which shall be no more (ancient families die). The golden-haired young king was struck with an incurable illness. (Diseases shall show you their yellow fingernails, where swans sing their strange song of infinity. I advise you to thwart the unconceived) and the page with eyes the colour of basalt oceans.] (Wat, Ww 37) Anticipating surrealist écriture automatique,367 Piecyk is a par excellence one­ iric text. The quoted passages offer examples of surrealist, juxtaposition-based montage. In Wat’s composition an important role is nevertheless played by the rather dense, sometimes very tightly packed web of harmonies. It joins semantically incongruent yet neighbouring lexemes, making the quoted phrases an elaborate display of euphony, symbolist in spirit.368 We can identify here, among 367 Cf. section 4B in Chapter One. For more on the influence of Italian Futurism on surrealist écriture automatique see Berghaus, Futurism, Dada and Surrealism, 302. 368 Cf. the findings in Chapter One, 139–51. For Author use only Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? 355 other devices, alliteration, consonance and assonance (“Zwierciadła o podwójnych licach. Zwiędłe liście;” “Ktoś chrusta skronią;” “Upokorzenie dojrzałych granatów;” “paź o oczach bazaltowych oceanów”) as well as internal rhymes (“żółte paznokcie, gdzie łabędzie”). However, the phonic relations between words are not strong enough to speak of a paronomastic concept that brings humour to this work. Comical tensions are also largely precluded by the already described parodist intention behind the poem.369 Let us now focus on juxtapositions of entirely different function and phonic structure in another enumerative composition that is nevertheless dissimilar from the examples discussed so far: Anatol Stern’s “Zabawa ludowa” [Folk play]: Poliszynel, Karahez, Pietruszka i Pulcinello Z Hanswurstem i Stańczykiem tu mąkę śmiechu mielą … Toż to karuzela! W niezmiennym porządku Skaczą tu osoby różnego stanu i obrządku Tysiąc bóstw wyprawia tutaj skoczne harce Za Buddą na słoniu na świni mknie pyzaty Marcel … 369 Cf. section 4B in Chapter One. The excerpt from Wat’s text could be compared with the Young Poland novel Faunessy by Walewska-Wielopolska: “Wszystko … gmatwało się w jej magnackich salonach. Bratały się sprośne estampy, od Basseta z rue St. Jacques, ze słodką chorowitą główką jakiejś Madonny col bambino. Czarny od starości anachoreta patrzył spode łba na rozebraną Gimblettę Fragonarda, podrzucającą pieska bosymi, nerwowymi nóżkami. Pośmiertna, woskowa maska jakiejś dominikanki gorszyła się dzień i noc kolorowanym szkicem do GRZECHU Stucka, zdobnym w ramy de Bry’ego, a ekstatyczna głowa świętej Teresy rzucała gromy w La Comparaison Lavreinca, w której pogodnie odsłaniały piersi dwie młode markizy, ważąc, która ma pierś pełniejszą… Koronowany gryf z perugiańskiego Palazzo Comunale pokrzywiał się wzgardliwie filigranowym bestiom Jany Poupelet” [Everything … became tangled in her noble salons. Naughty estampies would fraternize, from Basset out of rue St. Jacques, with a sweet sickly head of some Madonna col bambino. The anchorite, black from old age, scowled looking at the disrobed Gimbletta by Fragonard, throwing up a puppy with her naked nervous feet. Posthumous, wax mask of some Dominican woman was shocked day and night by the coloured sketch for SIN by Stuck, adorned in frames by de Bry, while the ecstatic head of Saint Theresa lambasted La Comparaison by Lavreince, where two young marchionesses cheerfully showed their breasts, weighing them to see which one’s fuller … Crowned griffon from Perugian Palazzo Comunale winced disdainfully at the filigree beasts of Jane Poupelet] (Maria J. Walewska-Wielopolska, Faunessy. Powieść dzisiejsza, Kraków 1913, 54–5). For Author use only 356 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Patrz jak pokruszone zęby wyszczerza żółty kołnierz Tam gdzie tumult największy czyni siłomierz Wypinają na nim swe brzuchy z majestatem Cztery osoby czerwone na pysku i pękate Pierwszy to Lojd-Żorż. Ten ma twarz kaprala Na którego policzkach niedziela blaski rozpala Drugi o szczękach buldoga to Mussolini Rzeźnik spacerujący łapą po mandolinie … Pianola ciągle jednakowo chrypi i zawodzi Zardzewiała muzyka nabrzmiałych łzami godzin … I chudziak w maciejówce i ta w bluzce z kretonu Tańczą na drewnianej sali pijani winem tych groszowych tonów Ona tu wczoraj pogrzebała w kloace noworodka A ty brachu czy nie lękasz się że tu szpika spotkasz? Karuzela łez. Huśtawka nostalgii. Rozpaczy bez granic. Taniec głodu który karmelków gra nie syci lecz rani. [Punch, Karagöz, Petrushka and Pulcinello With Hanswurst and Stańczyk are milling the flour of laughter here … It’s a merry-go-round! In steady order People of various station and religion jump A thousand deities are frolicking about here A chubby Marcel on a pig is following a Buddha on an elephant … Look how the yellow collar is grinning with crushed teeth Where the dynamometer is making the biggest tumult On it bellies are majestically displayed By four pot-bellied people red with red faces The first is Lloyd-George. He has the face of a corporal On whose cheeks Sunday kindles glows The second one with a bulldog jaw is Mussolini A butcher walking his hands on the mandolin For Author use only Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? 357 … The pianola still croaks and moans Rusty music of hours swollen with tears … A scrag in a visor cap and the woman in a cretonne blouse Are dancing in a wooden hall drunken with the wine of these paltry tones She buried a newborn here yesterday in a cesspool And you aren’t afraid, mate, that you’ll meet a spy here? A merry-go-round of tears. A swing of nostalgia. Boundless despair. A dance of hunger in which the play of caramel drops does not feed but harms.] (Stern, Wz 160–1) Similarly to “Transcendentalne panopticum,” the stage of this poetic theatre (the text’s framework approximates this form) is populated by various “mannequinned” personalities. It soon turns out, however, that the “flour of laughter” mentioned in the first couplet does not herald a light-hearted, carnivalesque text. The poem touches upon political and social issues in simple, direct manner rooted in play with meanings and sounds, or unusual use of metaphor. In no way does it suggest anything humorous. Compared to the Polish Futurist texts discussed above, the sound layer in “Zabawa ludowa” is rather modest. The first couplet promises elaborate play with sound, difficult to pronounce due to (deep) alliteration and foreign proper names. Still, the entire composition – comprised by phonically uncomplicated rhyming couplets (with consonants, most prominent in the third and eighth quoted couplets) – does not deliver on this promise. Engaged, almost journalistic stanzas do not care for sound configurations. “Zabawa ludowa” is certainly not a ludic collection of curiosities, nor does it constitute an oneiric composition. Interestingly, poems of this type can be connected with Dadaism, which is mistakenly regarded as relying only on laughter and absurdity. George Grosz, who was associated with the Berlin Dadaists, wrote a non-ludic collection of curiosities that resembles the solemn “Zabawa ludowa” in terms of construction and semantics. Here is “Gesang an die Welt” [Song to the world]: Ach knallige Welt, du Lunapark, Du seliges Abnormitätenkabinett, Paβ auf! Hier kommt Grosz, Der traurigste Mensch in Europa … Was erfanden sich die Menschen? Das Fahrrad – den Fahrstuhl – die Guillotine – die Museen, Das Variété – das Frackhemd – das Panoptikum, Die dunkele Manila – – – For Author use only 358 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Die grauen Steinkästen Und immernde Sonnenschirme Und die Faschingsnächte Und die Masken – – – – – Steht!!! Zwei A en tanzen Schuhplattler im Variété. Hoch knallt die Sketch-Pistole, Und lammfromm kriecht der Masoch ins Geschirr. Straβen klappern – – Horizonte dampfen – – In Oberschlesien hämmern die Kohlengruben – – … ———————————————— … Selbstmörder haben sich in die Bäume gehängt – dutzendweise. Verirrte Masturbanten attern auf. Furchtbares Verbrechen an einer Witwe in der Apothekengasse! … ———————————————— Prost, Max! Oben läu die menschliche Fliege auf Glasplatten!! Bewegung! Einheizen! Portwein, schwarz etikettierter, her – Heidonc, en avant! L’homme masqué!!!! Georges le Bœuf!!!! Champion of the world!!!! Der Knallspektakel!! Das Banknotenge üster!! Hallooo!!! Die Ermordung Jaurès!! Die Explosion der Radrennbahn!! Die sensationelle Wolkenkratzerbrand!! Das neue Attentat der Telephonmänner!!370 370 George Grosz, “Gesang an die Welt,” in DADA total, 117–8 (also published as “an die Welt” [to the world] in DADA. 113 Gedichte, 95). [Oh, bright world, you lunapark, / Blisful cabinet of curiosities, / Watch out! Grosz is coming, / The saddest man in Europe / … / What have people figured out? / Bicycle – elevator – guillotine – museums, / Variété – tailcoat shirt – panopticum, / Dark tobacco from the Philippines – – – / Grey stones crates / And twinkling parasols / And carnival nights / And masks – – – – – Wait!!! Two monkeys are dancing traditional highland dances in the cabaret. / Up shoots the pistol in the sketch, / And crawls into the harness meekly like a masochistic lamb. / Streets clatter – – horizons steam – – Mines are thudding in Upper Silesia – – / … / Suicides hung themselves on trees – by dozens. / Lost masturbationists fly up high with flapping wings. A terrible crime committed on a widow in Apteczna street! / … Cheers, Max! High up a human fly is running on the glass pane!! / Move! Fire up! / Portwein, with black etiquette, here – Heidonc, For Author use only Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? 359 In the German poem the world appears to be a frenetic funfair and a terrifying cabinet of curiosities.371 The description, which is even more enumerative than Stern’s “Zabawa ludowa” – combines syntactically and semantically unrelated lexemes (“bicycle,” “guillotine,” “shirt,” “parasols,” etc.) and line-length units. These elements nevertheless comprise a coherent image of reality, far removed from the poetics of pure nonsense or surreal oneirism. Just like Stern in “Zabawa ludowa,” Grosz does not valorize sound (with the exception of several conventional onomatopoeias). Both semi-journalistic works primarily employ simple language and any additional, higher-order organization of the poem’s sonic dimension would be an unnecessary burden. * The many Futurist and Dadaist poems quoted in this section can be treated as instances of specific textual montage, akin to the visual collages made by surrealists. The latter are described by Krystyna Janicka in the following way: Freely juggling … prefabricated elements of reality, combined in the least expected ways, the artist deepens the process of depersonalizing art, expanding the boundaries of arbitrariness in construction of images, achieving often hitherto unseen visual effects. Uncanniness and weirdness prevail here, developed using “estrangement” (dépaysement), which involves lifting elements of reality from their ordinary context and combining them with other ready-made components in ways that violate the rules of logic or nature. Out of these arbitrary or random juxtapositions of two, usually incongruent realities a new reality is born, one resembling a hallucinatory vision.372 The specific montage-based character of the discussed heterogeneous compositions by Polish authors confirms that – regardless of the larger question of relations with Dadaism – Polish Futurism conducted avant-garde artistic experiments, thus proving that it was part of a larger current in twentieth-century modern art. Despite being rooted in literary tradition, the discussed texts clearly modify former models, supplementing them with new elements both in the sphere of meaning and in terms of phonostylistics (through an extravaganza of pseudo-etymological figures, “words in freedom,” and the autonomization of sound). However, unlike en avant! / L’homme masqué!!!! / Georges le Bœuf!!!! / Champion of the world!!!! / Grand spectacle!! / Whispers of banknotes!! / Hellooo!!! / Jaurès murdered!! / Explosion of a cycling race course!! / Sensational fire of the skyscraper!! / New coup of the telephonists!!]. “Schuhplattler” is a folk dance popular in Bavaria and Tyrol. Dancers use hands to strike, in turn, their hips, knees and soles. 371 See Stahl, Anti-Kunst und Abstraktion, 315; Liede, Dichtung als Spiel, 229–45. 372 Janicka, Surrealizm, 83. See Stanisław Jaworski, “Poetyka surrealizmu,” part 1, Ruch Literacki 3 (1974), 160, 163; Stanisław Jaworski, “Poetyka surrealizmu,” part 2, Ruch Literacki 5 (1974), 297–8. For Author use only 360 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? the Dadaists, the Futurists would not entirely reject all models of poetry. This question is more comprehensively addressed further in this chapter. Among the juxtaposition- and enumeration-based Futurist “curio cabinets” we may indicate both ludic collections and compositions that are deeply metaphorical and oneiric. Sometimes the latter are laced with humour. Texts balancing ludic curiosities and deeper metaphoricity include for example “Wodospad magnetycznych łez” and, to a certain degree, Czyżewski’s poem “Miasto w jesienny wieczór” discussed in Chapter One.373 Works that most clearly approximate “collections of curiosities” are ones employing close harmonies, in which humour is rooted not only in lexical choices but also in clear sonic affinities. A special function is played in such cases by etymological and pseudo-etymological figures, which are important (and sometimes fundamental) carriers of the ludic character. These kinds of juxtaposition-based sequences are almost entirely absent from Dadaist texts (the only piece approaching the cabinet-like poetics is Ernst’s short poem “Gertrud”). However, we should recount a rather obvious fact: creating diverse, humorous catalogues of objects and events was by no means an avant-garde invention. As Bystroń notes: Górnicki [1527–1603] already notes this when he discusses various kinds of jokes in Dworzanin [the Polish translation of Castiglione’s Il cortegiano]. He remarks that sometimes humour can be achieved when one combines two incongruous elements … Let us consider another example of mixing disparate things. Słowacki’s Beniowski contains the following complaint about the world “filled with so many errors, / disappointments, trifles, misfortunes, prejudices, / Bankruptcies, silly verse, Jesuits, / Hegels from Poznań, purists from Kraków, / Parisian chroniclers, historians, / District mayors, specialists on Franco-Roman studies, / Cossack writers and critics.”374 From this perspective, Futurist collections of curiosities turn out to be yet another link in the long chain of literary tradition. Novel is introduced through avantgarde modifications of older techniques, which saturate texts with spectacular sound correspondences and – despite everything – allow them greater semantic freedom. The strictly oneiric poems discussed here depart from the ludic extreme. The motivation behind their combinations is clearly metaphorical. As Jerzy Kwiatkowski observes, the “dream technique” or “dream poetics” are not limited to … describing dreams, but involve representing reality in ways modelled on dream logic. In this sense, it is one of the most common phenomena in twentieth-century art. There is a term describing this mode of artistic representation or creation: “oneirism.” It is not limited to any 373 Section 3B. 374 Bystroń, Komizm, 117. See also the remarks by Dziemidok, O komizmie, 67–8, on similar combinations in Gogol and Heine. For Author use only Ludic cabinets of curiosities or oneiric texts? 361 single art group or doctrine since this category is broader and more flexible than, say, “surrealism.”375 Oneirism characterizes many Dadaist and Futurist poems, but interesting disparities occur in terms of sound. Futurist works that are strictly oneiric display less consonance than the humorous “collections of curiosities.” Still, we may speak in these cases of greater attention to sonic correspondences than in analogous Dadaist texts because Polish works are entwined in relatively dense yet irregular webs of consonance. Naturally, we should also take into account the quantitative disproportion of research material. Within Polish Futurism, oneiric poems based on juxtapositions can be found only in works by Czyżewski and Wat. They are much more frequent in the output of the Dadaists. However, it seems that this does not alter the conclusions drawn in this study, all the more so because Dadaist works are assessed as lacking in elements that are crucial in Polish texts. The latter almost invariably undertake to valorize the sound of the composition, often combining this with freeing words from any syntactic constraints in the spirit of Marinetti. Such instrumentation techniques are rare in oneiric Dadaist poems. Moreover, we should ask about the reasons behind the Dadaists’ neglect of sound in almost all oneiric texts describable as “collection of curiosities.” Their longer compositions based on juxtaposition and enumeration are different from instrumentation-driven conceptual pieces (which are incidentally also rare376). In this respect, Dadaists would focus primarily on the metaphorical randomness of poems, without encrusting the semantically estranged compositions with sound devices. Despite abandoning simple, linear presentation of meanings, Polish poems are much more coherent in semantic terms. It is often possible to identify a surprising yet ordering compositional framework: lunatic story, internalized puppet theatre, or polemic with symbolism (the last being more difficult to discern in terms of motivation). It seems that the Polish predilection for the sound dimension paradoxically reveals conservative or traditionalist leanings regardless of innovative phonostylistic strategies. Polish writers would not risk depoetizing their texts, shunning thorough obscurity (Wat being the least inclined to do so, especially in Piecyk). Phonic configurations substitute not only syntactic order377 (often neglec­ ted by the Dadaists) but also other measures that differentiate poetry from regular speech and pure randomness. The importance of sound in shaping the poetics identifiable in works by Polish Futurists is a manifestation of their unceasing interest 375 Jerzy Kwiatkowski, “Z poetyckich lektur,” Twórczość 11 (1971), 116. See also Katarzyna Kuczyńska, “ ‘Eksterytorialna dzielnica rzeczywistości.’ Miasto ze snu w poezji polskiej XX wieku,” in Oniryczne tematy i konwencje w literaturze polskiej XX wieku, eds. I. Glatzel, J. Smulski, A. Sobolewska, Toruń 1999, 72; Tadeusz Brzozowski, “O filmowo-onirycznym modelu poezji w dwudziestoleciu,” in Oniryczne tematy, 88. 376 See the comments on pure nonsense in section four of this chapter. 377 See the comments by Sławiński in Koncepcja języka poetyckiego, 87–9; cf. also Introduction, 43–7. For Author use only 362 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? in poetry’s artistic form and disdain for absolute colloquialization of form (though not the content), which can be sometimes observed in Dadaism and surrealism.378 Notably, Dadaist texts sometimes combine enumeration and sound conceptualism. In such cases, however, the layer of meaning turns out to be entirely incoherent, too fractured to even speak of an alogical oneiric character. It also seems that such works are not humorous. Consider the following text by Schwitters: Der Hunger keucht den Berg Lügen Fliegen Ziegen Ziegen siegen Lügen iegen Berge ziegen Ziegen siegen Fliegen Der Hunger keucht die Fliegen…379 To return to the question posed in the title of this section – “Ludic collections of curiosities or oneiric texts?” – it does not seem necessary to choose only one answer. Unlike surrealist-like Dadaism, Polish Futurism can boast both kinds of enumerative and juxtaposition-based poetic catalogues. Oneirism and specifically ludic character do not exclude each other. Sometimes they can appear together in a single text (e.g. in “Wodospad magnetycznych łez”), although usually one of these aspects prevails. If the ludic quality is underscored, readers may also expect clearer valorization of the poem’s sonic dimension. To conclude, it seems necessary to recall the third extreme of curio-cabinetlike Dadaism and Polish Futurism. Works that are socially engaged to the greatest degree often lose their specific, avant-garde character. They disregard oneirism and specifically achieved humour. Furthermore, they leave aside devices that introduce irregular instrumentation, resorting to the simplest methods of enriching the sonic dimension (e.g. pair rhyme or refrain), as is in the quoted poems by Stern and Grosz. 378 This concerns the overall style of the text. Juxtaposition itself does not decide whether the text is poetic or not. 379 Qtd. after Bernd Scheffer, “Als die Wörter laufen lernten,” Text + Kritik 35–36 (1972), 44. The poem features untranslatable ambiguities: “Lügen” means both “to lie” and “lies;” “Fliegen” – “to fly” and “flies;” “Ziegen” is the plural of “die Ziege” [goat] but the word’s shape and its placement among verbs facilitate interpreting it as a verbal neologism “kozić” [to goat]. One hint is contained in the spelling: upper-case for nouns and smaller-case for verbs. For Author use only Ludic stories and images 363 6. L  udic stories and images The last section in this chapter discusses examples of ludic narrative poems that foreground sound, in which avant-garde practices are not the clearest context of interpretation. Analysis covers works far from traditional canons of high poetry – ones describing simple, ordinary, everyday matters, perhaps even primitive. Laughter, primitivism and closeness to daily life were some of the basic Dadaist postulates.380 Still, this does not automatically entail textual similarities. The basic modality381 of Futurist poems considered in this section can be iden­ tified as comic narrativity: telling a story or presenting a scene in an amusing way. We should verify whether there are Dadaist works analogous to the Polish entertaining stories. The aim here is to ascertain to what degree it is justified to seek any ties between Polish Futurism and Dadaism, which rejected pomposity and praised laughter. Let us begin with two texts that discuss topics often tackled by the Dadaists: praise of the primitive (“Nimfy” [Nymphs] by Stern) and praise of the exotic (“Śmierć maharadży” [Death of a maharaja] by Młodożeniec). Here is the former: budzo się czerwone i młode baby i wyciongajom nogi z pod pieżyny czymprendzej sobie myją gemby aby! baby mogły bąkać że som dziewczyny wabio balwieża baby oblane ponsem i muwio my sie boim czy nuż nas nie potnie a na to balwież szczerzący plomby złotne ja gole baby tylko swym blondynnym wąsem baby zestrachały sie aż po kolana uciekajo wpadła do rzeki ich tłuszcza baba babie naga siada na barana baba nie słaba! łba baby nie puszcza balwież je gania! ten kosmaty satyr! a baby kryjo sie za baobabami kużda trzyma w rence nabżmiały balonik i śmieje się do balwieża białemi zembami palcem pokazuje mu na kwietnom górę swego brzucha to wcale nie je chorobo z tego bendzie prendko małe tłuste bobo karmić z cycek tszeba bendzie kture 380 See the “Dadaist manifesto.” 381 See Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Modalność (literaturoznawstwo i kognitywizm. Rekonesans),” in Sporne i bezsporne problemy współczesnej wiedzy o literaturze, eds. W. Bolecki, R. Nycz, Warszawa 2002, 437–8. For Author use only 364 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? złapana przez balwieża te małpe wraca potem na wieś śrud babiego lata baba dźwigana dzierży go za łape i woła cha cha ta cha ta brzu cha ta382 [young, red women are waking up and stretching their legs from under the quilt they are quickly washing their faces so that! women could casually say they are girls crimsoned, they are luring the barber and say that they’re afraid the knife will cut them and the barber is grinning at them with golden teeth I shave women only with my blonde moustache the women got scared knees trembling they flee and a whole bunch fell into the river women carry other naked women piggyback women are not weak! clutching their heads the barber is chasing them! the hairy satyr women are hiding behind baobab trees each carrying a swollen balloon in hand and grinning at the barber with white teeth pointing their fingers at the flowery mountains of their bellies this is no disease soon a fat little baby will come out from there and will have to be fed from the titty caught by the ape barber she is returning to the village through gossamer the carried woman holds him by the hand and cries ha ha this hut this big-bellied] The poem “Nimfy” can be viewed as praising simplicity, biology, joy and life not bound by rules.383 In a review of Nieśmiertelny tom futuryz in Nuż w bżuhu – written 382 Two original versions of the text exist: the quoted one is the dialectal version from Nieśmiertelny tom futuryz (Warszawa 1921 [pages unnumbered]; the publication of this piece, which was considered obscene, contributed to the confiscation of the volume by censorship). The other, “literary” version was included in the volume Anielski cham [Angelic brute] (1924). Original spelling is preserved. 383 See Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 116; Jan Prokop, “Uwagi o poezji Anatola Sterna,” Poezja 10 (1969), 80. However, Baranowska, “Prymitywizm prowokowany,” 238–239, For Author use only Ludic stories and images 365 (purposefully misspelt) probably by Stern himself384– we can read that “Nimfy” “spread their gorgeous bodies on the rustling haystack of humour, in which they sank with laughter and cries. “Nimfy” elude any critical terms, just like the giant Java butterfly escapes the net of the entomologist blinded by its brightness.”385 The piece in question is based on wordplay rooted in repetition of sounds.386 Gazda concludes: The ludic and Dadaist provenance of “Nimfy” is determined by instrumentation – the poem’s compositional dominant. “The basic unit of enunciation”387 that synthesizes meaning is the word “baby” [women]. It constitutes the phonetic centre shaping the poem through instrumentation techniques such as alliterations (“budzą się,” “baby,” “balwierz,” “balonik,” “brzuch,” “bobo”) and puns or false etymologies (“baba – baobab,” etc.). Repetition of plosives … foregrounds the aestheticizing function of the poem’s themes, its “barbaric” dynamics. Such a setting purifies the lyrical subject in Stern’s poems of the many layers of culture and civilization.388 Still, the a-cultural primitive is elaborately arranged in this case. Apart from homophonizing devices listed by Gazda it is also possible to indicate the figure of polyptoton (various forms of the word “baba” [colloquially: woman], which often occurs in ludic Futurist poems) and the almost paronymic rhyme “baba” – “słaba” [weak]. 384 385 386 387 388 rightly notes that “already at first glance the title reveals the poet’s dialogue with Young Poland.” She argues that “Polish avant-garde had to take a stance regarding one of Young Poland’s hallmarks – its fascination or even obsession with folklore. This was achieved in various ways, as can be gleaned from works by Czyżewski or Słowo o Jakubie Szeli by Jasieński. Still, Stern’s method was the earliest and the most effective. ‘Breaking away from folk aesthetics’ occurred primarily through trivialization and infantilization of the vision of the world.” See also PietruszewskaKobiela, O poezji Anatola Sterna, 15. See Waśkiewicz, “Czasopisma,” 45. “Krytyka. Ńeśmiertelny tom futuryz (o sterńe),” in Nuż w bżuhu, 2 (no author). For remarks on the comic role of repetitions see Danuta Buttler, Polski dowcip języ­ kowy, Warszawa 2001, 69, 72–84. In “Papierek lakmusowy,” the parodistic one-off by Witkacy (written with Niesiołowski and Langier), the Dadaization [!]‌of Polish poetry was protested in the following text by Marceli Duchański-Blaga: “Bubuja (à la Stern) // Bubuja abuja. / Buhaja kabuja / Kabyla kabyl buja. / Kabylska, bestialska szuja / Kukuja zakuka jak wuja. / Bambulę bubuja buja – / Może zabuja, a może odbuja. / Haruje kabyl nad balią, / Haruje szuler nad talią, / Szoruje szleję kabyla, / Co buja córkę Tamila. / Tamizą tętni Tamil. / Król Jerzy w Londynie śni, / Bębnią bubuje we krwi, / Kamillę gładzi Kamil” (Miesięcznik Literacki 9 [1970], 132). Gazda refers to the concept developed by Skwarczyńska, who concluded that the key instrumentation function is played in a given passage by sounds included in the word that is crucial in semantic terms (Skwarczyńska, Wstęp do nauki o literaturze, 185). Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 116; emphasis added. See also Kazimierz Wyka, “Dwa skrzydła poezji Anatola Sterna,” in Rzecz wyobraźni, 526. For Author use only 366 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? The structure of the word “baobaby” [baobab trees] is intriguing. It could be regarded as a specific paragram formed from the root “bab:” the word “baobab” contains the entire word “baba,” while the first segment “bao” is an “extension” of the syllable that forms word “baba.” The poem concludes with another sound game – bawdy laughter is recorded in a way that makes is possible to discern both an extralinguistic sound and regular words “chata” [hut] or “brzuchata” [big-bellied/pregnant].389 Despite its precise web of sound repetition, the text never ceases to be an affirming and vitalistic manifestation of “the primitive.” The question of primitivism is connected with references to folklore. The story about women and the barber, stylized to resemble a dialectal tale, carries strong associations with folklore. The aforementioned review from Nuż w bżuhu argues that the poem “Nimfy” is “entirely extracted from the swamp of literariness and lifted up by folk aestheticism. There you will find a truer and deeper folk character than in folk poetry itself, which became contaminated by various influences.”390 However, this piece has little to do with parallelism- and refrain-based, glossolalic folk songs391 – in this sense, attempting to find a deeper connection with folklore misses the point.392 Still, there are clear echoes of folk enumerations. Jan Stanisław Bystroń recorded the following one: Poszła baba po popiół, diabeł babę utopił, ni popiołu, ni baby: tylko z baby dwa schaby.393 [A women went to fetch ash, the devil drowned her neither ash nor woman: two chops is all that was left of her] 389 See the interpretation of the text’s phonic texture in Baranowska, “Prymitywizm prowokowany,” 243–4; Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 30. 390 “Krytyka. Ńeśmiertelny tom futuryz (o sterńe).” 391 See Chapter Four. 392 It seems excessive to compare this work with the homophonic poems by Khlebnikov (Majerski, Anarchia i formuły, 30). 393 Jan S. Bystroń, Tematy, które mi odradzano, Warszawa 1980, 410. The quoted text is a children’s enumeration and this kind of folklore is “not representative of a specific environment but of a specific age.” On the other hand, “the rural origin of Polish children’s folklore is confirmed by all documents from the nineteenth and early twentieth century” (qtd. after Cieślikowski, Wielka zabawa, 73, 82). Similar wordplay can be found in the following picaresque prose passage: “W tym roku wiele zamieszek narobią, zwłaszcza w szpitalu, kiedy jedna baba drugiej babie, uwiąziwszy w dupie grabie, nieuczciwe słowa mówić będzie” [They will cause much ruckus this year, especially in the hospital, after one old lady put a rake in another’s butt and said dishonest things] (Antologia polskiej literatury sowiźrzalskiej XVI i XVII wieku, ed. S. Grzeszczuk, Wrocław 1985, 225). According to Grzeszczuk, Antologia polskiej literatury sowiźrzalskiej, 225, the “baba” sequence is a quotation from a naughty folk song. For Author use only Ludic stories and images 367 The above enumeration is quite similar to Stern’s poem. The phonic dimension of the rhyming folklore text is homogenized through numerous repetitions of the root “bab” and the cluster “aby,” which appear in words related in terms of sound: “baby” [women] and “schaby” [chops]. Relations between polyptotonic appearances of the word “baba” and the word “schaby” are analogous to the relations between the lexemes “baba,” “słaba” and “baobaby” in Stern’s text. In terms of semantics, both pieces are bawdy and humorous. Another important aspect is the specific narrativity of both works, which is developed on top of conceptual play with sound. The twenty lines that comprise “Nimfy” – characterized by alliteration, consonance and assonance, sometimes almost homophonic – contain an entire complex story of rural courtship. In turn, the two lines of the folk text offer a “complete” story about the woman’s unusual death. Thus, play with sound does not merely showcase acrobatic instrumentation verging on asemanticism (as in “Portret mój”). “Nimfy” develops a clear narrative concept distinguished by its sonic-semantic character – one that could be fruitfully compared with Polish folklore (unlike the discussed Dadaist texts). Direct meanings – with words not truncated or reduced to isolated syllables or roots devoid of any formants – introduce a clearly ludic context. Waśkiewicz rightly notes that “Nimfy” is a work that “relishes the materiality of the world and objects, as well as the materiality of words.”394 The situation presented in this work could be called humorous, slightly obscene and absurd (described in a bawdy manner without a slightest touch of lyricism). The poem’s composition is nevertheless coherent, clear and not anarchic at all. In terms of construction, it has little in common with non-narrative “exotic songs” that reference primitivism, or the glossolalic texts by Ball or Huelsenbeck. The Polish poet consistently develops a specific concept responsible for distinct configurations of phonic and semantic character. The primitivist Dadaist pieces discussed above can be connected primarily with the affirmation of all that counters civilization: biological simplicity, merriness, vitality and liberation from mores and artistic decorum. Similarities with “non-primitivist” Dadaist lyricism are traced further in this section. “Śmierć maharadży” by Młodożeniec, another Futurist sound-masterpiece, can be described similarly: – – – Maharadżę macha na hamaku Allaha rab – brązowy cham – Ha– ho–Ha– tak rad, że macha maharadżę. Jak sen daleki blady seledyn malutkich lat – 394 Waśkiewicz, “ ‘Irrealna gwiazda’,” 174. For Author use only 368 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? maleńkich źrenic jelenich w zieleni lian – li – li – lA – nia – ni Z chramu bram bramin drab a krok w krok – bajaderek szereg – na cytrach grA – – okrężny ruch – sunący – jak wąż – jak łuska krokodyla – – – – – krok – w krok – – – Już szmer – – już szelest – – już szept – – szum – szat – sztylEtów biały szał. – Zląkł się lotos u fali – – zakwilił lilii kielich, anieli lot z lalkami mojej Mai – – jelenie trzy – dwa – jeden jeleń bez zielonych źrenic – – – ACH!! z trawy się gramoli – wyrasta – rośnie – rozczepia – pełznie powoli błyska purpurowym ślepiem granatowa morda – truchło! Ha – ho – Ha bajaderek szereg na cytrach gra okrężny ruch – sunący – jak wąż jak łuska krokodyla – krok w krok – [– – – A maharaja is swung on hammock by Allah’s servant – a brown peasant – Ha– ho–Ha– So glad that he is swinging the maharaja. Like a distant dream pale willow green of little years – tiny deer pupils in the green lianas – lee – lee – lA – nia – nee From the gates of the temple a Brahmin thug For Author use only 369 Ludic stories and images step by step – a line of nautch girls – are playing on zithErs circular movement – gliding – like a serpent – like crocodile scales – – – – – step – by step – – – Already the murmur – – already the rustle – – already the whisper – – the swoosh – of robes – the white frenzy of daggErs. – The lotus quivered at the wave – – the lily calyx whimpered, angel flight with my Maja’s dolls – – deer – three – two – one without green pupils – – – AH!! drags itself from the grass – grow – outgrows – splits – crawls slowly shining with purple eyes a navy blue face – corpse! Ha – ho – Ha a line of nautch girls are playing on zithers circular movement – gliding – like a snake like crocodile scales – step by step –] (Młodoż., Up 82–3)395 The poem initially appears to be a record of an extraordinary procession of sounds and words combined primarily on the basis of their phonic qualities, a text akin to “Południe” by Stern or Duchamp’s “[Paroi parée…].” Still, the phonic construction in “Śmierć maharadży” is particularly elaborate. On top of it rests a logical and narrative network of meanings, with a distinct role played by syntax. The text is divided into several parts that clearly differ in terms of sound and meaning. The first relies almost entirely on the repetition of two sound segments announced already at the beginning: the recurring “maha” (and the homophonic or closely related “macha,” “na ha,” “Allaha,” “cham,” “Ha – ho – Ha”) and “radżę” (“rab,” “rad że”). The second part is composed in a completely different way: it is an alliterating 395 The visual composition and the use of hyphens follow the original (Młodożeniec, Kwadraty, 19). See also the later version of the text (in the volume of selected poems edited by Młodożeniec himself: Wiersze wybrane, Warszawa 1958; the latter is quoted in the critical edition by Burek; see Młodoż., Up 481–5). For Author use only 370 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? and mild (liquid “l” and soft “ń”)396 metaphorical account of dreamy nature, reflec­ ting the mood of the dozing maharaja (or possibly his dream). Change of mood is signalled by sound, beginning with the description of the procession of chocolate sponge-balls led by the “Brahmin thug” – a homophonic passage imbued with deep consonances (“chram” – “bram” – “bramin” – “drab;” “bajaderek” – “szereg;” “krok” – “krokodyl”). This section is much more expressive than the preceding lines due to intense repetition of the rolling “r.”397 Another textual scene that differs from others is the murder of the maharaja, made phonically distinct by anaphora and alliterative sequences of onomatopoeias, followed by an account of tumultuous nature, which corresponds to the maharaja’s story. The poet employs consonances based on the sound “l” (“zakwilił lilii kielich, anieli lot z lalkami”) and word repetition. The dread is underscored by the capitalized concluding exclamation “ACH!!” The link between refrain-like, phonically distinct passages about the Brahmin, chocolate sponge-balls and crocodile (the maharaja’s killer, we may presume) on the one hand, and the description of the “quivering lotus” and fleeing deer on the other is consistently established through words containing sounds [r]‌and [p], and the dreadful image of the mysterious snake. Just like in the story about the woman and the barber, in “Śmierć maharadży” the homophony of certain passages is striking. Basing on the phonic closeness between certain sound clusters, Młodożeniec creates refined pseudo-etymologies. Similarly to Stern in “Nimfy,” he nevertheless does not delve deeper into linguistic structures and does not coin neologisms or strain the rules of speech. Paronomasia is primarily a language joke here, a playful witticism. Fascination with exoticism, known to Dadaists, finds perfect realization within grammatically correct units (in fact, paronyms are contained within undistorted inflectional and syntactic structures), while the poem’s semantics does not depart from a logical and almost narrative-like account of events. The poet abandons linguistic anarchy, seeking more traditional solutions than phonic or semantic randomness. Just like Stern in “Nimfy,” Młodożeniec bases on a clear sonic-semantic concept, developing a piece that would be highly homophonic yet semantically coherent. Both “Nimfy” and “Śmierć maharadży” present stories that can be easily reconstructed. However, the word “ludic” arguably does not fit a story about attempted murder, although its special sound characteristic as well as conceptual nature, playful echoes and specific eccentricity of an Oriental story would allow to classify the poem as such. Let us now compare selected Polish texts with narrative Dadaist lyrics. Narration, which does not often appear in the latter, is usually complicated in unforeseen ways that are far from any realist probability. A good example of this is a piece by Ribemont-Dessaignes: 396 See the descriptions of how individual sounds are perceived in works by Fónagy. 397 See Reuven Tsur, “Expressiveness and Musicality of Speech Sounds,” in Toward a Theory of Cognitive Poetics, Amsterdam 1992, 184; Fónagy, The Metaphor, 113, 116. For Author use only Ludic stories and images 371 Ô Il posa son chapeau sur le sol, et le remplit de terre Et y sema du doigt une larme. Un grand géranium y poussa, si grand. Dans le feuillage mûrirent un nombre indé ni de potirons Il ouvrit une bouche aux dents couronnées d’or, et dit: I grec! Il secoua les branches du saule de Babylone qui rafraichissait l’air Et sa femme enceinte, à travers la peau de son ventre Montrait à l’enfant le croissant d’une lune mort-née Lui mit sur sa tête le chapeau importé d’Allemagne. La femme avorta de Mozart, Tandis que passait dans une automobile blindée Un harpiste, Et qu’au milieu du ciel, des colombes, De tendres colombes mexicaines, mangeaient des cantharides.398 The quoted poem describes a certain path of events, although it is certainly winding. Instead of the expected ludic character we encounter surrealism-like oneirism, often identified in this study in Dadaist works. However, it seems futile to trace any signs of sonic conceptuality in this piece. Sometimes, (pseudo)etymological figures emerge in Dadaist poems as the motivation behind textual tensions, just like in the Futurist poems “Nimfy” or “Śmierć maharadży.” Poetic images of this kind are usually entirely incoherent and in many cases ludic (due to semantic disjointedness or thoroughly alogical character). Any outline of the narrative is blurred among copious phonic games, unlike in Polish poems. Juggling words, sentences and meaningless sounds can be also traced in Arp’s poem “te gri ro ro:”399 398 Qtd. after Dada. Réimpression intégrale, 114 (reprinted after Dadaphone 7 [1920], 4). [He put his hat on the floor and filled it with dirt / and sowed a tear with his finger. / A great geranium flower grew there oh so big. Under its leaves many pumpkins ripened. / He then opened his mouth full of gold-filled teeth and said: / Y! / He shook the branch of Babylonian sallow, which freshened the air. / And his pregnant wife showed their child through belly skin and the horn of the stillborn moon. / He put on a hat imported from Germany. / His wife gave birth prematurely and Mozart was present at delivery. / At the same time the harp player went hunting in an armoured car / while a pair of doves under the dome of the sky, oh so sweet Mexican / doves consumed: – Spanish flies] (English translation after the Polish version published in Formiści 6 [1921], 11). In some Dadaist texts (e.g. “Dadadudel” by Tzara, published in German translation by O. Pastior in DADA total, 268–9), the initially coherent story gradually becomes less and less logical, ultimately descending into absurdity. 399 Examples include the already discussed poems “Gertrud” by Ernst and “[Paroi parée…]” by Duchamp (cf. section four). For Author use only 372 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? te gri ro ro gri ti gloda sisi dül fejin iri back back glü glodül ül irisi glü bü bü da da ro ro gro dülhack bojin gri ti back denn berge mit eingebauten lärmapparaten apportieren erzene schmetterlinge … back back bojin gloda sidül da da ro denn die sympatischen syntetischen menschen sind halb as teuer als die landläu gen400 Although the corpus of Dadaist works does contain more semantically coherent pieces that remain par excellence sound-based,401 they nevertheless do not represent narrative lyricism and are not humorous in any way. Consider Arp’s “Schneethlehem 3” [Snowthlehem 3]:402 Das Schnee- und Hagelwittchen fällt Wie Fallsucht und von Fall zu Fall. Es fällt weil es gefällig ist Und jedesmal mit lautem Knall. Es fällt in seinem Todesfall Das Haar mit Fallobst dekoriert. Den Fallschirm hat es aufgespannt. Die Todesclaque applaudiert.403 In the ludic narrative lyricism of Polish Futurism sound-play does not consist in foregrounding the unclear and misleading glossolalic character, but in developing clear concepts that combine sound correspondences with understandable semantics. These are coherent stories: not fantastic or nonsensical but humorous and 400 Qtd. after DADA total, 61; emphasis added. [te gri ro ro gri ti gloda sisi dil fejin iri / bak bak gli glodil il irisi gli bi bi da da / ro ro gro dilhak bojin gri ti bak / because / mountains with fitted alarms / fetch bronze butterflies / … / bak bak bojin gloda zidil da da ro / because friendly synthetic people / for half the price of those in broad use]. 401 See Liede, Dichtung als Spiel, 367–8, 374. 402 The poem is a “cynical parody” of Rilke’s “Herbst” (“Die Blätter fallen, fallen wie von weit”). Intertextual dependence is another argument against the alleged antiintellectualism of Dadaism. Qtd. after Liede, Dichtung als Spiel, 375; see also 376. 403 Qtd. after Philipp, Dadaismus, 218; emphasis added. [The Snow and Hail White / Like epilepsy from fall to fall [in any case] / Falls because it’s expected / And always with a big thump. / Falling into her own death / Hair decorated with fruit fallen from trees. / She opened the parachute. / The claque of death is applauding]. “Schneewittchen” is “Snow White,” while “Hagelwittchen” is a neologism based on this name. For Author use only Ludic stories and images 373 phonically refined. The situation is different in Dadaism. Even if deep consonance is not the source of nonsense or deep unintelligibility, we rarely encounter coherent stories that would be lifelike without slipping into oneirism. Polish Futurists would mobilize classic mechanisms of linguistic humour. As Buttler notes, repetition and piling of “similar or homogenous phenomena” are the basic mechanism of humour.404 This can be also related to the development of the poems’ sound. Amassing paronyms and rhymes as well as introducing semantic distinctiveness make the discussed texts perfect representatives of a poetic playfulness that neither seeks deeply linguistic motivation (like Khlebnikov) nor attempts to achieve the hermeticism of mirohłady (like some Dadaists). We should also examine Futurist descriptive lyricism: peculiar poetic images painted with sound. For this purpose, one can compare some of these works with Dadaist texts that appear close in terms of construction and meaning. A specific urban image is found in the poem “Lato” [Summer] by Młodożeniec: pstro. pstrawo.. pstrokato…405 lato… białe – czerwone – zielone szale – falbany falują, szaleją w alejach… upał opala owale i smaży dekoltaże, gdzie zerka lalkowaty lowelas w lakierkach… kokota łasi łażącego kota… wszystko odziane mniej – niż cieniej do cienia ucieka – spieka… więc w barze bombardując bufeciarzy panowie piją pieniące się piwo w rozgwarze za kufem kuf, za kufem kuf – UF – jak ciężko “skandal” skanduje litera po literze wylizany literat oblewając likierem notatki w notesie…406 404 Buttler, Polski dowcip językowy, 69 ff. See also Bystroń, Komizm, 14–15. For more on alliterative changes in the enunciation see Bystroń, Komizm, 20–1, 25. 405 We should note the “gradation” of the number of dots accompanying changes of words that share the same root. 406 See the later, visually enhanced version in Wiersze wybrane, reprinted in Młodoż., Up 476–7. For Author use only 374 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? [garish. garishly.. variegated… summer… white – red – green shawls – ruffles wave, revel in the alleys… the heat burns the ovals and fries décolletages, where the doll-like playboy is peeking in his patent leather shoes… a cocotte fawns a trudging cat… everything clad less than lightly seeking shade – it is scorching… so in the bar buffet attendants are bombarded by men drinking foaming beers in the hubbub pint after pint, pint after pint WHEW – how hard “scandal” is chanted, letter after letter by a slicked-down man of letters who spills liqueur on the notes in the notebook…] This poem offers a montage of snapshots that form a coherent image of a drowsy, hot day. At first we glimpse the street – from a perspective that allows to catch the entire scene – which is full of shimmering colourful shawls and ruffles. Then, the textual eye of the camera refocuses on a playboy catching glimpses of décolletages, on a prostitute caressing a cat, on people drinking beer at the bar and finally – on a man of letters scribbling in his notebook. “Lato” also contains a feast of etymological figures contained in syntactic structures (“pstro. pstrawo.. pstrokato;” “piją piwo;” “notatki” – “notes;” “litera” – “literat”) as well as pseudo-etymological ones (“upał opala owale;” “szale” – “szaleją;” “literat” – “likierem;” “kokota” – “kota”). Exceptional lines that do not attempt to link lexemes using (pseudo)etymologies contain clear alliteration, consonance and assonance (“więc w barze / bombardując bufeciarzy”) or polyptotons and repeated phrases (“za kufem kuf, za kufem kuf”). Careful sonic development causes the descriptions to feel humorous, surprising and conceptual. Still, not much happens in terms of events; it is only due to the unusual language and surprising “sound fugues”407 that the image becomes rich, multi-coloured and in many places humorous. 407 Term developed by Erazm Kuźma to describe the juxtaposition “szale – falbany falują szaleją w alejach;” see Erazm Kuźma, “Przestrzeń w poezji awangardowej a spójność tekstu,” in Przestrzeń i literatura, eds. M. Głowiński, A. OkopieńSławińska, Wrocław 1978, 272. For Author use only Ludic stories and images 375 Let us compare the textual montage by Młodożeniec with a piece by Walter Mehring titled “berlin simultan. Erstes Original-dada-Couplet / für Richard Huelsenbeck” [simultaneous berlin. The first original Dadaist couplet / for Richard Huelsenbeck]: Im Autodreβ ein self-made gent! Passage frei! Der Präsident! Die Heilsarmee Stürmt das Café! Ein Jeistprolet verreckt im Dreck Ein girl winkt mit dem Schottenband Ein Kerl feilscht am Kokottenstand Her mit’m Scheck Schiebung mit Speck Is alles schnuppe! Komm süβe Puppe! Ob Keilerei Jeknutsch’ eins zwei drei Rrrutsch mir den Puckel lang Puckel lang … Das Volk steht auf! Die Fahnen raus! Bis früh um mfe kleine Maus Im Ufafilm Hoch Kaiser Wil’m! Die Reaktion aggt schon am Dom Mit Hakenkreuz und Blaukreuzgas Monokel kontra Hakennas Auf zum Pogrom! Beim Hippodrom! Is alles Scheibe Bleibt mir vom Leibe Mit Wahljeschrei Und Putsch Eins zwei drei Rrrutsch mir den Puckel lang Puckel lang … Und Lude spielt Die Juden raus! Die Bäuche rein! Mit Yohimbin zum Massenmord For Author use only 376 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Hoch national der Klassenhort Vom Fels zum Meer und Leichenstein Allens det Jleichte Biste erst Leiche! Wozu’t Jeschrei! Und futsch Eins zwei drei Rrrutsch mir den Puckel lang Puckel lang408 The text by Mehring and “Lato” by Młodożeniec display structural and thematic similarities: both present snapshots from contemporary urban life edited to form a poem and both are highly distinct in terms of sound.409 However, they also reveal clear dissimilarities. The German poem mixes humour with grotesque, naturalism, 408 Qtd. after DADA total, 122–3; emphasis added. [Man of succes – sport chic! / The President is coming! Disperse now! / Salvation army / Is storming cafes! / Educated worker dies somewhere for nothing / A girl is waving a Scotch bow / Some guy is with a cocotte / Give me the check / Money for speck / Anyway, to hell with it! / Come here doll! / Is this a brawl / Kisses / One two three get losssst / to where you came from / to where you came from / … The people rise! Flags to the mast! / Till five am a little mouse / In an UFA film / Long live Emperor Wilhelm! / Reaction is already flowing by the cathedral / With swastikas and battle gas / Monocle versus Jewish nose / On to the pogrom! By the hippodrome! / I don’t give a damn / What do I care / About the election ruckus / Or some putsch / On two three / Get lossst / to where you came from / to where you came from / … And the pimp is playing / Jews out! Bellies front! / With yohimbine to mass murder / This is a national orphanage of classes / From mountains to sea and the tomb / All the same / You are first a corpse / Why scream / You’re done for / One two three / Get lossst / to where you came from / to where you came from]. The word “Lude” [pimp] can be associated with the name of the pro-fascist general E. Ludendorff, participant in the 1920 Berlin putsch and the Munich putsch in 1923. The text preserves numerous features of casual Berlin speech (e.g. “j” instead of “g;” “fimfe” instead of “fünfte”). 409 “ ‘Berlin’ by Walter Mehring surprises with a cacophony of sounds that carry diverse meanings. First of all, however, Berlin is full of exclamations, with shouts coming from newspaper boys, market traders, profiteers, as well as communists dying in battle, generals at the service of the new government and protesters calling for the dismantling of the Weimar government. Accompaniment to this consists of marches and revolutionary songs; it is also possible to discern syncopated rhythms coming from jazz cellars. Simultaneity is a reflection of the new order, which the Dadaists faced themselves. Berlin demands from them greater clarity and more distinctive manifestoes – the scene of the Zurich cabaret is replaced by streets and Club Dada, open to anyone willing to join the movement” (Kupczyńska, “Kakofonia wielkiego miasta,” 140). For Author use only Ludic stories and images 377 light-heartedness and a nihilistic dread of reality.410 A substantial function is also played in it by vivid references to social and political matters, e.g. the ironic allusion to fascism. Kalina Kupczyńska argues that “berlin simultan” is lavish with both sound and imagery. Mehring experiments with collage, freely mixing words and exclamations, suggesting vague situations that do not form harmonious images. The poem brings to mind grainy black-and-white cutouts from press photos occasionally overlaid with vivid sequences of paintings by the Berlin expressionists …. Their visions of the city connect with the eponymous simultaneity, whose limit is nevertheless anticipated in certain passages from Mehring’s “couplet.” A swastika enters the stage and the colourful simultaneity of figures and events soon fades.411 Młodożeniec, on the other hand, tackles urban life with irreverence and humour, rendering sonically not just its pace but also the colourful, kaleidoscopically presented drowsiness. His text is humorous, while deformations of reality never turn fully grotesque. Furthermore, he does not engage social matters. Humour consists primarily in the consonance of neighbouring words based on (pseudo)etymologies. In the German poem, the sonic structure is determined by rhyming couplets (as announced in the title): pair rhymes, sometimes surprisingly rich (e.g. “mit’m Scheck” – “mit Speck;” “Massenmord” – “Klassenhort”) and repeating, refrain-like expressive phrases that underline the poem’s melodiousness and song-like character (“Eins zwei drei / Rrrutsch”). The text also contains other, irregular consonances, e.g. specific etymological figures in typically German compounds (“Hakenkreuz” – “Blaukreuzgas” – “Hakennas”), internal rhymes (“ein girl” – “ein Kerl;” “verreckt” – “Dreck”) and alliterations (“Scheck” – “Schiebung;” “Speck” – “schnuppe”). Both poems are highly distinct in terms of sound, with one significant difference being that the text by Młodożeniec contains an array of pseudo-etymological jokes, forming a cheerful urban landscape, while the phonic structure of “berlin simultan” is made aggressive by persistent refrains, accurate rhymes framing relatively short lines and numerous unpredictable, irregular consonances that make the sonic composition of the latter serve entirely different purposes. Mehring’s vision is dynamic and restless, with snapshot-like fragments and quotations from the crowd (“Passage frei!;” “Die Juden raus!”) creating a highly unsettling picture of reality in a contemporary city. Another captivating poetic image from Młodożeniec appears in the poem “W cyrku” [At a circus]: hu–hu–pełno… cały świat… jasno… ślepiście… tyle lamp… 410 See Stahl, Anti-Kunst und Abstraktion, 315–7. 411 Kupczyńska, “Kakofonia wielkiego miasta,” 142. For Author use only 378 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? kolory… kolory… kolory… lU–Udzi!.. drgają – skakają – krzyczą – wołają – pulsują – czekają – pośrodku wielkie puste koło… lśnią białe gorsety – rozparte kobiety – brylanty – franty umizgi – wizgi – czupryny – łysiny – ruchliwe smarkacze – panienki. bas – sopran cienki – wyrwał się i ścichł w–au–ou–au i oczy… oczy wpatrzone w wielkie puste koło nad wszystkim galeria – plebs cyrko–władny… tupie nogami – klaszcze rękami – gwiżdże palcami… już… już… już… trąby wrzasły pisknęły klarnety ryknęły puzony… na środek wyszedł dyrektor opasły… – brawo – na wszystkie ukłonił się strony – brawo… brawo… – rzekł: “z powodu zaziębienia rinetty – program zmieniony…” .............................. aż się cofnęła galeria [ho-ho-full… the entire world… bright… blinding… so many floodlights… colours… colours… colours… cR-Rowd!.. twitching – jumping – shouting – crying out – pulsating – waiting – a giant empty circle in the middle… glistening white corsets – sprawled women – For Author use only Ludic stories and images 379 diamonds – jesters wooing – zing – shocks of hair – bald patches – busy brats – little girls. bass – high and thin soprano – broke free and fell silent in-ouch-ou-ouch and the eyes… eyes glued to the giant empty circle a gallery towering over everything – the circus-wielding plebs… is thumping its feet – clapping its hands – whistling on fingers now… now… now… come on now… the trumpets yelled the clarinets squeaked the trombones roared the fat director walked into the centre… – bravo – bowed in all directions – bravo… bravo… – and said: “due to rinetta having a cold – the programme has been altered…” ……………………… and the gallery backed down] (Młodoż., Up 54–5) To what degree is it possible to link the text by Młodożeniec with Dadaism? The first, slightly misleading signal is the setting. Mass entertainment could be associated (though not entirely rightly) with cabaret-like Dadaist evenings. On the other hand, the “music of noises”412 – eagerly composed by the Dadaists after borrowing the idea from Italian Futurism – can be linked (though it is a distant analogy) with the grotesque passage “bas – sopran cienki – / wyrwał się i ścichł / w–au–ou–au” [bass – high and thin soprano – / broke free and fell silent / in-ouch-ou-ouch] or phrases like “trąby wrzasły / pisknęły klarnety / ryknęły puzony” [the trumpets yelled / the clarinets squeaked / the trombones roared]. Employing relatively simple means, the author achieves a sense of din and chaos, characteristic for the simultaneous and bruitist poems written by Dadaists. Use of proper onomatopoeia and sound-imitating verbs like “wrzasły” [yelled] or “pisknęły” [sqeaked] also signals a turn away from pompous canons of poetry, assimilating the everyday, the vitalistic and the ludic. Another matter is that the poet describes a rather conventional form of mass entertainment. 412 See Berghaus, “Futurism, Dada and Surrealism.” For Author use only 380 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? According to Jarosiński, the quoted text is a “disorganized description comprised of random words and fragments of unfinished sentences – however, … chaos and fragmentation would be experienced by anyone in the [circus] audience.”413 Indeed, the creative method perfectly matches the text’s meaning. This dynamic piece reflects the atmosphere of awaiting tensely for unsophisticated entertainment. It is composed primarily by arranging sequences of nouns and verbs, which are incidentally the main vehicles of meaning in Marinetti’s theory.414 In fact, the text does not contain a single complex sentence. The use of parole in libertà in large parts of the poem has clear consequences in the sound structure. In the end, this enumerative composition is enclosed in a framework mainly determined by a precise web of sound correspondences. The entire quoted passage is held together by several irregular internal rhymes based on the sound “-ą” (“-ją;” “-ają”) and the segments: “-ty” (“-ety;” “-anty”), “-iny/yny” and “-ami.” Readers are confronted with a poetic game that involves assembling similarly sounding words. Młodożeniec looks for them primarily in the same grammatical categories. This kind of a literary facilitation is usually regarded as worthless and crude, but in this case the device is taken to an extreme and put in specifically ludic and ironic brackets, which is emphasized by the initial “hu-hu-pełno” and the colloquial exclamation “lU-Udzi!” [cR-Rowd!]. Artistic activity proves to be primarily entertaining, also thanks to the playful treatment of artistic conventions and the expectations of the audience (both the spectators in the circus and the poem’s readers). Large parts of the text are also connected with simple rhymes (e.g. “tere-fere” or “szacher-macher”)415 or enumerations,416 one caveat being that the poet combines meaningful words (altho­ ugh there are ones that verge on asemanticism and are probably onomatopoeic in addition to their use being motivated by rhyme, e.g. “wizgi”),417 whereas texts discussed earlier often feature asemantic quasi-words. The kind of play with sound that Młodożeniec proposes in his poem never ceases to constitute a semantically 413 Jarosiński, “Wstęp,” xcviii. 414 Cf. fn. 111 in Chapter One. 415 See Leonard Podhorski-Okołów, “Zagadnienie rymowanek (Reimwörter),” in Prace ofiarowane Kazimierzowi Wóycickiemu, Wilno 1937, 251–60. 416 See Krystyna Pisarkowa, Wyliczanki polskie, Wrocław 1975, 12–13. The poem “W cyrku” could be compared for example with the structure of the following enumeration (emphasis added): “Deszczyk pada – słońce świeci, / czarownica masło knesi (kneci / kleci) / uknesiła (ukleciła / uklesiła), / postawiła, przyszła świnia, przewróciła, / przyszedł wół, poprawił, / przyszedł dziad, wszystko zjadł” [Rain is falling, sun is shining / A witch is churning butter / when she finished / a pig came and spilled it / an ox came and fixed it / then came the old man and ate it all]. For more on asemantic enumerations see Pisarkowa, Wyliczanki polskie, 12–13. 417 A glossolalic and onomatopoeic “word” incidentally also present in the phonic experiment by Jasieński “Na rzece” (cf. p. 34 ff, p. 238 ff). For Author use only Ludic stories and images 381 clear message.418 Readers can fully appreciate the poem’s elaborate construction thanks to the humorous conclusion of the enumeration-driven, intricate image of an awaiting audience: the surprising yet amusing short announcement regarding the change in the programme. The circus image from the discussed poem can be compared with another piece that introduces the context of an entertainment show – Ball’s “Cabaret:” 1. Der Exhibitionist stellt sich gespreizt am Vorhang auf und Pimpronella reizt ihn mit den roten Unterröcken. Koko der grüne Gott klatscht laut im Publikum. Da werden geil die ältesten Sündenböcke. Tsingtara! Da ist ein langes Blasinstrument. Daraus fährt eine Speichelfahne. Darauf steht: “Schlange.” Da packen alle ihre Damen in die Geigenkästen ein und verziehen sich. Da wird ihnen bange. … 2. Von dem gespitzten Ohr des Esels fängt die Fliegen ein Clown, der eine andere Heimat hat. Durch kleine Röhrchen, die sich gründlich biegen, hat er Verbindung mit Baronen in der Stadt. … Der Exibitionist, der je zuvor den Vorhang bedient hat mit Geduld und Blick für das Douceur, vergiβt urplötzlich den Begebenheitenvorgang und treibt gequollene Mädchenscharen vor sich her.419 418 Efforts by Młodożeniec could be compared with Tuwim’s later Bal w Operze, which also attempts to make the text more dynamic by including sequences held together by internal rhymes that do not develop into larger syntactic structures of nouns and adjectives. The poem “W cyrku” can be compared with the following passage from Bal w Operze: “Rąbią w ziemię Buicki, Royce’y, / Akselbanty, śnieżne gorsy / I buldogi i terriery, / I szynszyle i ordery, / Generały i wikingi, / Admirały i goeringi, / Bambirały, bojarowie, / Deterdingi – / Am! / Ba! / Sado! / Rowie!” [Buicks and Royces beat the ground, / Aiguillettes, snow-white girdles / And bulldogs and terriers, / And chinchillas and orders, / Generals and vikings, / Admirals and goerings, / Bambirals and boyars, / Deterdings – / Am! / Bas! / Sad! / Ors!] (Julian Tuwim, Bal w Operze, Kraków 1999, 46–7). A similar construction is also found in “Koncert w Resursie Obywatelskiej w Moskwie” by Andrey Bely (trans. A. Mandalian); see Antologia nowoczesnej poezji rosyjskiej 1880–1967, Vol. 1, eds. W. Dąbrowski, A. Mandalian, W. Woroszylski, Wrocław 1971, 182–5. 419 Qtd. after DADA total, 53. [An exhibitionist stands legs astride beside the curtain, / while Pimpronella teases him with red petticoats. / Koko the green god claps loudly For Author use only 382 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Ball’s “Cabaret” and “W cyrku” by Młodożeniec share the setting of the circus stage and its audience. However, whereas the Polish poem is mimetic and adheres to principles of realist likelihood (despite elements of grotesque and caricature), “Cabaret” features a typically Dadaist melange of naturalism, oneirism, nonsense and grotesque. Moreover, while the former fully deserves to be called a sonicsemantic concept, the almost absurd latter text is far from any conceptual play with sound and meaning. The Dadaist poem does not display the phonic refinement of the work by Młodożeniec: it lacks the humorous, homophonic enumerations, deep consonances and lexical repetitions (only several alliterations and onomatopoeias can be identified). The overtone and structure of both texts prove entirely incongruent despite the fact that the themes of circus and cabaret could suggest some kinship between the two avant-garde compositions. Paradoxically, it is the poem by Młodożeniec that could be regarded as closer to what the general public would consider typical Dadaist compositions; after all, it is a ludic, amusing and irreverent piece. “Cabaret” could not be described in this way. On the other hand, the complex, conceptual structures of sound and meaning in the Polish poem preclude categorizing it as Dadaist. * Texts by the Futurists differ from those by the Dadaists in terms of grammatical and semantic coherence, which is correlated with the simultaneous foregrounding of the phonic dimension. Devices of this kind do not fit the Dadaist canon of artistic practices (however surprising it is to use this term in relation to this movement). Dadaist poems were not as elaborate and would not combine fully-fledged semantics of words and phrases featuring refined and certainly intentional play with sound. In Dadaist narratives and descriptive lyric pieces we encounter either alogical and metaphorical imagery that does not care much for sound or a distinctly journalistic tone, with instrumentation playing, as it were, merely a practical function. Still, there are no longer, humorous, narrative texts like “Nimfy,” “Lato” or “Śmierć maharadży” that combine distinct instrumentation with coherent presentation of meanings. This kind of modality – i.e. a sonic-semantic conceptualism – basically never emerged within Dadaism. The Futurist poems discussed here are much closer to humorous pieces from previous literary epochs. Futurist practices continue a long, well-established tradition of reconciling the ludic character (often entailing a narrative) with clear in the audience. / Horny will be the oldest scapegoats. // Cingtara! It is a long wind instrument. / A drooled-down banner slides out of it. It contains the word “Viper.” / Everyone is packing their ladies in the violin case / And moving out. They have the willies. // … // From the pointed ear of a donkey a clown is / catching flies, but he has a different home country. / Through small tubes that bend well, / He has ties with the barons uptown. // … // Just like earlier, the exhibitionist handled the curtain / with patience and a view to a tip, / he immediately forgets what happened / and drives before him a gushing flock of girls]. For Author use only Ludic stories and images 383 sonic-semantic schemata. Manifestations of this tradition can be found in works from the epoch preceding the interwar period. Compositions like “Lato” or “Nimfy” are closer to low literature and linguistic jokes in poems or picaresque prose in certain baroque texts or ones penned by Young Poland writers like Lemański,420 Faleński or Nowaczyński. Thus, many Futurist compositions should be compared not just with pieces representing the European avant-garde, but also with older texts from the history of Polish literature. The basic innovation of Futurism consisted in intensifying the frequency and force of the poems’ sound devices.421 To confirm this, it suffices to present some barely translatable passages from texts that are by no means avant-garde but whose literary mechanism involves (pseudo)etymological figures and deep alliteration:422 Jak błogosławiony z błota, Jak złodziej rzekasz od złota, Jak szwiec od świece nazwany, 420 See also the grotesque poems by Jan Lemański in his Zwierzyniec, Warszawa 1912, and Jasełka, Warszawa 1911. For commentary see Aleksander Nawarecki, “Poezja zdziecinniałych starców,” in Czarny karnawał. “Uwagi śmierci niechybnej” księdza Baki – poetyka tekstu i paradoksy recepcji, Wrocław 1991, 262–87. 421 Naturally, such devices were present also in earlier foreign literature. Several spec­ tacular examples could be recalled yet without aspiring to even outline the issue in the European tradition. Following Bakhtin, we should recall that the final chapter of Rabelais’s Gargantua and Pantagruel mentions “hypocritical monks who spend their time reading ‘Pantagruelesque books’ not for amusement’s sake but in order to denounce and slander them, he writes: scavoir est articulant, monorticulant, torticulant, culletant, couilletant, couilletant et diabliculant, c’est à dire calumniant. Ecclesiastical censorship (of the Sorbonne), a calumny directed agains the gay truth, is cast down to the bodily cul, lower stratum, and the reproductive organs (couillon)” (Mikhail Bakhtin, Rabelais and His World, trans. H. Iswolsky, Bloomington 1984, 172–3; see also Morier, Dictionnaire, 854). The Polish translation of the passage from Rabelais by Tadeusz Boy-Żeleński omits obscenities: “artykułując, monartykułując, tortykułując, węsząc, myszkując, miszkując, diablikując, to jest spotwarzając” (Michaił Bachtin, Twórczość Franciszka Rabelais’go, trans. A. and A. Goreniowie, Kraków 1975, 265). It is also possible to quote for example the incipit from one of Petrarch’s sonnets: “Laura che’l verde lauro e l’aureo crine / Soavemente sospirando move” (qtd. after O. F. Babler, “Kalambur,” in Słownik rodzajów i gatunków literackich, eds. G. Gazda, S. Tynecka-Makowska, Kraków 2006, 327). Another example of older foreign wordplay is quoted by L. Spitzer, who writes about seventeenth-century English preachers and their use of baroque conceit, wordplay and conundrum, e.g. “Now all House is turned an Alehouse and a pair of dice is made a Paradice; was it thus in the days of Noah? Ah no” (Leo Spitzer, “Językoznawstwo a historia literatury,” trans. M. R. Mayenowa, in Karl Vossler, Leo Spitzer, Studia stylistyczne, eds. M. R. Mayenowa, R. Handke, Warszawa 1972, 178). See also Roman Jakobson, Linda Waugh, The Sound Shape of Language, Brighton 1979, 177–88. 422 All emphases added. For Author use only 384 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Jak człowiek, człek malowany, Jak Jezuita z Jezusa, Strzeż się go, własna pokusa. (Daniel Naborowski, “Jezuita”)423 Rybałt na łożu leży, panna do niego bieży, Różdżkę mu w ręku dzierży. (Jan z Kijan – Jan z Wychlówki, “Psalm na gorzelinę”)424 Siła w rzemieśle machlerzów, ba i czyści łgarze; Szewcy, krawcy, kuśnierze, kowale, wachlarze. Szewcy mało co robią, ustawicznie piją, Rzadko kiedy co mają, bo jeno łżą żyją. Łgarstwa się dwa roki uczą, a rzemiosła trzeci, Więc jako ojciec łgarzem, tak i jego dzieci. (Jan z Kijan, “Rzemieślnicy łgarze”)425 A więc by cię, Franciszku, nie włożyć do fraszek, Nie wiesz, żeć też pomoże towarzystwa Staszek? (Baltyzer z kaliskiego powiatu, “Do wiernego towarzystwa”)426 Na żenieć rząd należy, a zwłaszcza domowy, A nad nią zaś, jako pan, jest rozum mężowy. (Baltyzer z kaliskiego powiatu, “Żona cnotliwa”)427 O tytuły tak dbają? Vostra Ecielenca, Ten tytuł z cielęciny o jak ich uraczy!428 Great examples of the ideas in question are contained in texts that tell short, amusing stories, in which humour is rooted mainly in sound patterns and their semantics: Druga Mościwa pani, co brewijarz miała Polski, z którego księskie pacierze mawiała, Dnia jednego służbistą do księdza posłała, O czym dzisia pacierze, rada bym wiedziała. Ksiądz tak pannie powiedział: Powiedzcie tak paniej, Że dziś odprawujemy Cosme Damiani. 423 424 425 426 427 428 Polscy poeci od średniowiecza do baroku, ed. K. Żukowska, Warszawa 1977, 344–5. Polska fraszka mieszczańska, 152–3. Polska fraszka mieszczańska, 121. Polska fraszka mieszczańska, 233. Polska fraszka mieszczańska, 238. Text by Opaliński qtd. after Bystroń, Komizm, 392. For Author use only Ludic stories and images 385 Panna, przyszedłszy, powie: Miłościwa pani, Ksiądz dziś mówi pacierze o koźle z mądami. ([Jan z Kijan], “Druga pani”)429 Sonic conceptualism was also employed by a poet whose output can be linked with “picaresque, Dadaist, surrealist, linguistic poetry as well as the unique case of Miron Białoszewski”430 – Rev. Józef Baka. Below are samples from texts written by the late-baroque Jesuit, in which concepts are often based on paronomasia (and even its particularly elaborate manifestation – parechesis), deep (and sometimes inverted) alliteration and rich rhymes: A z brzucha Bez ucha Baryła Otyła.431 Śmierć nie śmiech, Dudy w miech.432 Rzadki Feniks, rzadsza w świecie Dobroć rzeczy: jak w komecie Umbr szlaki Złe znaki W żywiołach I ziołach. Co śmierć wróży jak kometa, Saturn, silny dość planeta Do sporu Odporu Nie najdzie, Gdy zajdzie. … Pożegnał się ten z rozumem, Kto świat sławił świateł tłumem, Kto ceni, Lub mieni Śmiecisko 429 430 431 432 Polska fraszka mieszczańska, 195. Aleksander Nawarecki, “Umieranka księdza Baki,” Pamiętnik Literacki 1 (1983), 26; see also 3–5. Wat writes: “Na co nam, Polakom, Sartre’y, Becketty, kiedy mamy ks. Bakę. Mówię to całkiem na serio” [Why would we, the Poles, need Sartre or Beckett when we have Baka. I am being serious] (qtd. after Nawarecki, “Umieranka księdza Baki,” 4). Qtd. after Nawarecki, “Umieranka księdza Baki,” 7. Qtd. after Nawarecki, “Umieranka księdza Baki,” 15. For Author use only 386 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Świetlisko.433 Twe [, bogaczu,] juki Dokuki, Sobole Są bole. Bogacz Boga miałby chwalić I ofiary z bogactw palić.434 Jego [świata] skarby z słomy sieczka, Sława słaba jak banieczka.435 Futurist texts can be also compared with an extensive lecture on pseudo-etymology delivered by one of the protagonists in Ofiara królewny [The Princess’ Sacrifice] by Jan Lemański – a reveller at the court of King Gwoździk, Kał-Dun [Pot-Belly]: Wszystkiemu przewodniczyła w tym kraju idea konkretnego pożytku, ponieważ głównym składnikiem życia tutejszego był pierwiastek żyt. Życiem tu nazywało się: żytniówka (esencja żytnia), użytek, używać, przeżytek, przeżywać, pożytek, spożywać, zażywać, nadużywać, wyżywać, zżywać się, dożywać.436 433 434 435 436 Józef Baka, Poezje, eds. A. Czyż, A. Nawarecki, Warszawa 1986, 71. Another interesting aspect is the innovation of Baka (alluding perhaps to court play; see Nawarecki, “Umieranka księdza Baki,” 5): “the language hybrid dazzling with exotic sound, ineptitude, children’s humour and almost perfect lack of meaning:” “Wołajże / I dbajże / Nasz Mófty, / Mów, mów ty!” (Baka, Poezje, 103; emphasis added). Baka, Poezje, 84. Qtd. after Nawarecki, Czarny karnawał, 85. Lemański, Ofiara królewny, ed. M. Puchalska, Kraków 1985, 41. Consider also another passage: “Wiedza i jedzenie, byt i picie to jedno. Zaraz to wytłumaczę… Wiedza czyli wiedzenie znaczy jedzenie w (iele) i w (ybornie)… Uff… il fait chaud!… Wiedza życia znaczy w-jedzenie się w życie, czyli jego spożywanie… Dalej, mes seigneurs… uff… uff… JE równa się JEst… Jestem, bo w-iem znaczy jestem, bowiem jem w-(iele) i w-(ybornie). Wiedzieć i Jeść różnią się tym tylko, że w pierwiastek wiedzy wchodzi î krótkie (w-i-e), a w pierwiastek jedzenia – j długie (j-e). Ale bo też właśnie wiedzieć się powinno, że prócz wiele i wybornie, należy jeść i długo. Jedzmy, żyjmy!” (Lemański, Ofiara królewny, 148). [Knowledge and food, existence and drinking are one. Let me explain… Knowledge or knowing means eating much and tasty… Uff… il fait chaud!… Knowledge of life means eating into it, or consuming it… Furthermore, mes seigneurs… uff… uff… To eat is to be… I am, because I know which means to exist, because I eat-know much and tasty. To know and to eat differ only in the sound of words knowing and eating. And thus you should know to eat not only much and tasty, but also long. Let us eat long and live!…]. For Author use only Ludic stories and images 387 [In this country everything was subordinated to utility, because the main component of life there was the elemnt “li.” Life meant: liquor, utility, relic, to enliven, … /etc. – with further words created from the root “life” – translator’s note/] A radical alliterative play was introduced by Adolf Nowaczyński, who would spin a tale about Petrykowski, “papież pianin, największy miliarder między modernistami” [the pope of pianos, the greatest billionaire among the modernists]:437 Gabriel Petrykowski był jedynym synem ojca Witalisa, który szczęśliwym trafem miesiąc przed wypadnięciem na świat syna Gabriela opuścił padoł płaczu, plotek, panoram, parasoli, paszkwilistów i pianin i milutkiemu pogrobowcowi zostawił cały majątek (180 pianin, 80 forte pianów, 40 fortessimo-pianów).438 [Gabriel Petrykowski was the only son of Witalis, who was lucky to have departed, one month before his son Gabriel entered this world, this vale of teats, gossip, panoramas, parasols, lampoonists and pianos, leavint to the cute child his entire wealth (180 pianos, 80 grand pianos, 40 fortessimo-pianos).] Similar devices (etymological and pseudo-etymological figures as well as polysemy) were also employed by Felicjan Faleński: Martwa bryła, to znaczy martwy bałwan złoty, czy ty to rozumiesz Gawle zmartwiony bałwanie?439 [Dead lump, or the dead golden idol, do you understand Gaweł, you worried blockhead?] Panna od przymierzania, do której Gaweł przymierzyć pragnie miarę swego serca – ta zaś, nie przymierzając, w przymierze wchodzi z kim innym.440 [The trying-out girl, against whom Gaweł wished to measure his own heart, formed an alliance with another, if I may say so.] Another type of a well-known joke is the polyptotonic joke (similar to the multiplication of the word “baba” in “Nimfy” by Stern): Pewna panna za pannę służyła we dworze. Nie mogąc dwojga panieństw znieść, rzecze: O Boże! 437 438 439 440 Adolf Nowaczyński, “Histeryczny Histrion. Szkic do aktu dramatycznego,” in Małpie zwierciadło. Wybór pism satyrycznych, Vol. 1: 1897–1904, Kraków 1974, 93. Nowaczyński, “Histeryczny Histrion,” 88. Faleński, O głupim Gawle; qtd. after Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Od potworów do zna­ ków pustych. Z dziejów groteski: Młoda Polska i dwudziestolecie międzywojenne,” Pamiętnik Literacki 1 (1989), 86. Faleński, O głupim Gawle; qtd. after Bolecki, “Od potworów do znaków pustych,” 94. For Author use only 388 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Być panną i za pannę – panieństwa za wiele, Muszę się z jednym rozstać, nim będzie wesele.441 [A certain maiden was a maid at the court. Unable to withstand both of these maidehoods, she cried: Oh Lord! To be maiden and serve as maid – that’s too much maidenhood, I must abandon one of the two before marrying.] Moja pani prosi pani żeby pani mojej pani pożyczyła rondla, bo moja pani taka flądra, że nie ma kawałka rondla.442 [My lady pleads the lady that the lady lend my lady a saucepan, because my lady is such a flounder and has not a single saucepan at home.] Basically, all Polish texts quoted in this section – both Futurist poems and works from previous epochs – would be far less interesting or appear entirely ungrounded (in the case of conceptual pieces) were they to be stripped of their ornamental sonic arabesques. The attention of readers is drawn only to the work’s sound structure, almost always out of proportion to its thematic triviality (perhaps with the exception of Baka’s moralizing). Humour is usually rooted in the very way of shaping the text, i.e. the playful approach to language. An afternoon in the city, an attempt at the life of a maharaja, or countryside courtship do not necessarily have to be the basis for humorous stories; it it not the choice of themes that determines the ludic character of these pieces. The described texts definitely do not establish any semantic bonds – they only share phonic eccentricity. Taken to the extreme, sonic-semantic conceptualism can actually determine the humorous character of the composition. Such ludic (and sometimes iconoclastic) poems can be considered carnivalesque, but this category includes works from many epochs.443 In this case, however, we deal with an entirely non-avant-garde playfulness and not with the aforementioned carnival of phonemes. As Bolecki writes, the principle of carnivalesque articulation consists in the disproportion between form and content, between subject and function. In other words, in each case the principle 441 442 443 Anonymous poem, qtd. after Bystroń, Komizm, 350 (text from the collection by Legatowicz, reprinted in Księga humoru polskiego, ed. K. Bartoszewicz). Untitled anonymous poem in Antologia poezji dziecięcej, 367–8. See Mikhail Bakhtin, “Epic and novel,” trans. C. Emerson, M. Holquist, Austin 1981, 3–40. For Author use only Ludic stories and images 389 of translation is that the rendered content is enlarged or diminished, thus acquiring a different pragmatic and semantic character. The sense of disproportion between the cultural “what” and the cultural “how” explains – so to speak – carnivalesque poetics and aesthetics. Carnivalesque aesthetics leaves no place for intermediary forms or transitory links.444 The presence of Dadaist genes in Polish Futurism – as diagnosed by scholars – does not properly account for the shape of ludic stories and images that emerge in Futurist poems. In this case, Dadaism should not be linked to the creative method but, at best, to the very carnivalesque mood of these texts. What manifests here, more clearly than in many Dadaist works, is the ludic spirit that uses various modes of sound-play as its hypostases. Still, the force of sound is kept in check by logic, syntax, semantics and ludic plot. Thus, upon closer inspection, Futurist art, often regarded as exemplifying artistic freedom, reveals great structural refinement, primarily related to sound but also connected with semantics. The text is never de-semanticized as is the case for example in works by the Zurich Dadaists. These conclusions are also confirmed by comparison of Futurist texts with ones that employ similar ludic devices but come from previous epochs and often represent low literature (folk, picaresque), as well as with poems representing baroque conceptualism or Young Poland linguistic grotesque. Futurist play with sound reveals the movement’s old and strong roots in the literary history of developing sophisticated configurations of sound and meaning. Allthough we must acknowledge that they occur less frequently in older works than in the ones by Stern, Młodożeniec and Jasieński. This does not mean that the sound experiments conducted by the Polish Futurists are entirely conditioned by a deep knowledge of literary history. Still, we should recall other contexts than those related to the European avant-garde since this confirms the existence of a continuity in artistic practice of which many writers and scholars seem unaware. * This chapter discussed various texts by Polish Futurists that can be compared with Dadaist works. The key issue was to take a broader perspective on Dadaism than had become customary in Polish literary studies. Dadaism is not merely anarchic and nihilistic, but also humorous, playful and inventive in its attempts to reflect reality as well as engage social and political problems. Dadaists left a body of works forming – as absurd as it may seem – a canon or catalogue of literary techniques. Polish Futurists also employed many devices that can be identified in Dadaist texts. In the light of considerations contained in this chapter, the crucial ones include: – references to the primitive, which manifest in elaborate echolalic and glossolalic configurations, 444 Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Język. Polifonia. Karnawał,” Teksty 3 (1977), 29–30. For Author use only 390 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? – fragmentation of words into syllables and phonemes, – use of unusual proper onomatopoeias imitating voices of nature, – creation of (at least initially) incoherent compositions based on enumeration and juxtaposition. Dadaism and Polish Futurism also display the following: – ludic character, – fascination with the primitive, – violation of prevailing artistic and social conventions. This does not mean, however, that we can speak of strong genetic or structural connections between Polish Futurism and Dadaism. To avoid repeating all conclusions, it may be enough to point out key differences between works by Stern, Młodożeniec, Czyżewski, Jasieński and Wat, on the one hand, and the Dadaists on the other. Almost all Polish texts discussed in this chapter are based on clear sonic-semantic concepts, while most Dadaist texts display none of this refined instrumentation accompanied by a playful approach to meaning. Dadaists would usually focus on one of these two aspects: sound or meaning. Only in rare cases do their sonic fireworks carry more distinct meanings; on the other hand, pieces whose serious and surreal use of metaphor can be reconstructed are usually not particularly characteristic in terms of sound. Apart from the above crucial question of instrumentation, differences between works by Dadaist and Polish Futurists are rooted basically in the specific surplus of the latter, e.g.: – – – – semantic or semantic-structural references to local folklore, respecting genre rules, strong ties with the literary tradition, presence of narrative in many texts that exhibit realism (and are thus not oneiric), – much more frequent use of pure nonsense rooted in sonic-semantic conceptualism, – creating juxtaposition-based compositions strongly held together by sound. The most surprising fact is that among Dadaist works there are relatively few compositions representing the aesthetics of pure nonsense, should we regard it as an established humorous mode and not as a larger category covering any form of unintelligibility.On the other hand, Polish texts provide no glossolalic, “shamanistic” and trance-inducing compositions, since these structures are precluded by ubiquitous conceptualism or the superiority of logical semantic configurations. I must address one more issue. Both Dadaism and Polish Futurism would sometimes become socially engaged. In such cases, sound structures are pushed into the background, with the specific message acquiring greater prominence. Finally, let us return to the question posed in the chapter’s title: “How much Dada is there in Polish Futurism?” As analyses show, both Dadaism and Polish Futurism cannot be reduced to a simple, unidimensional interpretation of images. For Author use only Ludic stories and images 391 This is also the case with sound. Still, Dadaism would approximate freedom of sounds or even liberate itself in many cases from any limitations ([This is how flat…] by Huelsenbeck, “[Gadji beri bimba…]” by Ball). Frequently, in certain primitivizing texts (e.g. “Zanzibar”) or ones akin to surrealism (e.g. “Le coq fou” by Ribemont-Dessaignes), phonic constructions would move into the background. Although there are Dadaist poems based on carefully composed, refined sound structures (“[Paroi parée…]” by Duchamp, “Gertrud” by Ernst, “Schneethlehem 3” by Arp, or “[Der Hunger…]” by Schwitters), they are relatively few a far between. Thus, we may conclude that Dadaism is closer to phonic arbitrariness, although it does not represent – as some scholars claim – thoroughgoing artistic anarchism.445 Another issue signalled in the chapter’s title is that of the “conceptual approach to sound and meaning.” In many (though not all) Polish Futurist works suspected of Dadaism we may identify a typically conceptualist strategy, which is also confirmed by many historical compositions that base on similar principles. How much Dadaism is there in Polish Futurism? As it turns out, there are not too many factual correspondences. Polish Futurism actually appears to be closer to the literary tradition than to Dadaist “laxity.” However, analyses show that there are certain convergences identifiable in works by Stern, Czyżewski, Młodożeniec, Wat and Jasieński on the one hand, and the literary achievements of Tzara, Janco, Huelsenbeck, Ernst, Arp, Mehring and Duchamp on the other. It is worth remembering that such comparisons are indeed possible and produce interesting results, which is all the more crucial as these textual confrontations never took place before in Polish literary studies. The final element is the very atmosphere of Dadaism. During the interwar period, Dadaism was synonymous with liberation from all constraints and a ludic, clownish character. Dadaism and Polish Futurism fundamentally share this spirit of freedom.446 Perhaps the above considerations could be concluded by referring to Duchamp’s aphoristic formula that “Dada is the nonconformist spirit which has existed in every century, every period since man is man.”447 Certainly, the propen­ sity for contrariness and playfulness as well as the ludic (and frequently nonconformist) yearning to break stiff artistic and social conventions have always existed. Notably, Polish Futurism was much more inclined towards humour than the more radical Dadaism, even its Zurich offshoot. Still, it does not seem justified to refer to all carnivalesque tendencies in culture as Dadaist. This would be an overgeneralization that is historically unmotivated since the avant-garde movement that began at a Zurich cabaret448 is, after all, only one link in the long chain of various incarnations of literary contrariness. 445 446 447 448 Cf. section one in this chapter. This atmosphere was not alien to Italian or Russian Futurist authors, but it would not manifest in their works as strongly as in Dadaism. Qtd. after Bigsby, Dada and Surrealism, 11. See also Janco, “Creative Dada,” 48–9. Due to the context of these considerations, we may disregard earlier efforts made by Alfred Stieglitz in New York. For Author use only 392 Freedom of sound or phono-semantic riddles? Dadaism made its way into interwar Poland mainly in the form of several catchy slogans echoed in Futurist manifestos and the ludic atmosphere of works by Polish authors. The existence of intriguing similarities between certain artistic strategies does not entail that the two movements are fully (or even considerably) congruent, but facilitates revaluating the reception of experimental practices of the Dadaists and Polish Futurists. Still, this does not change the fact that the presence of Dadaism in Polish Futurism should not be connected with the rise of an entirely new school of thought, but primarily with the emergence and consolidation of another possible approach to art. For Author use only Chapter Four “ plAY, mY shepherd’s pIPE:”1 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry The question of interconnections between Polish Futurist poetry and folklore have been discussed in this study only marginally in the context of other findings. However, this issue demands to be examined separately due to varied and functionally disparate phonostylistic references to folk culture encountered in poems by authors whose works remain the focus of this study. Futurism can be approached in the following ways: Although the impulse was to finally break away from the artistic fascination with folklore and folk stylization –​as exemplified by Young Poland poets –​attempts were also made to seek other possibilities of incorporating elements of folk sensibility, imagination and emotionality into modern art. Thus, many would turn to other models derived from folk culture –​ones different from the ornamental and decorative elements cherished by Art Nouveau. Specifically, attention was directed towards folk primitivism.2 The need to espouse a new tradition and go beyond the boundaries defined by traditional means of literary expression led many avant-​garde poets and theoreticians to explore primitivist folk practices: “uncouth art.” The understanding was that such art is made by people entirely disconnected from the so-​called artistic culture, who would not imitate, even to the slightest degree, the canons of classical art, instead producing artworks from scratch, as it were, and developing their own themes, styles or compositional techniques.3 1 2 3 Quote from Stanisław Młodożeniec’s poem “Pastuch” [Shepherd], which I analyse later in this chapter. Helena Zaworska, “Przemiany polskiego futuryzmu,” in Literatura polska 1918–​ 1975, Vol. 1, eds. A. Brodzka, H. Zaworska, S. Żółkiewski, Warszawa 1975, 350. Grzegorz Gazda, “Funkcja prymitywu i egzotyki w literaturze międzywojennej,” in Problemy literatury polskiej lat 1890–​1939, series 1, eds. H. Kirchner, Z. Żabicki, Wrocław 1972, 383–​4. See also Grzegorz Gazda, “Funkcja artystyczna pastorałek w twórczości Tytusa Czyżewskiego i Jerzego Harasymowicza,” in Literatura i metodologia, ed. J. Trzynadlowski, Wrocław 1970, 83; Alina Kowalczykowa, “O pewnych paradoksach futurystycznego programu,” Poezja 6 (1969), 44–​5. For Author use only 394 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry Analysis of the sound dimension in Polish Futurist poetry calls for an extended discussion of primitivism and folklore.4 References to the simple and primitive would function in these poems in two ways. When studying their construction –​including its phonic aspect –​we should differentiate between two aspects.5 1. The relatively few references to primitivism (encountered primarily in Stern’s poetry, in which they are nevertheless entangled in various interpretative contexts, and in some passages from Wat’s Piecyk) understood as expression unfettered by any rules and disconnected from tradition6 (or entirely rejecting it, following the dictum that “the place of feeble civilization and culture is on the waste dump”7). This understanding of primitivism was postulated by young Polish poets who would often approximate programmatic declarations made by artists from the circle of Cabaret Voltaire. Still, primitivization would occur in such cases primarily in terms of artistic manifestoes and social scandals.8 4 5 6 7 8 I must repeat here some of the claims already made in this study (see section two in Chapter Three), as additional clarifications are simply indispensable. See Erazm Kuźma, “Nurty awangardowe wobec mitu Orientu,” in Mit Orientu i kultury Zachodu w literaturze XIX i XX wieku, Szczecin 1980, 239; Maria Delaperrière, Polskie awangardy a poezja europejska. Studium wyobraźni poetyckiej, trans. A. Dziadek, Katowice 2004, 112 ff. According to Gazda, avant-​garde artists sought ways of escaping all high culture and civilization (they would not praise Western civilization, like Young Poland, arguing that “Western culture is highly conventionalized and ossified”). “The new generation of artists would assume that there is one culture and beyond it lies the primeval domain of barbarity or non-​culture. Culture was understood as a certain way of organizing and systematizing, filled with tradition and dominated by various conventions” (Gazda, “Funkcja prymitywu,” 388). They would hold that culture “covers the area of exotic primitivism and barbarity, untainted by civilization, with an overpowering coating.” The only solution is thus to “lead the avant-​garde to an anti-​civilization exodus into the world of pre-​culture, distant future, children’s imagination, unprocessed art, etc.” (Grzegorz Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, Wrocław 1974, 79). As demonstrated in Chapter Three, in comparison with the Dadaists for example, Polish Futurism would refer to tradition astonishingly often. See also Małgorzata Baranowska, “Prymitywizm prowokowany (Stern),” in Surrealna wyobraźnia i poezja, Warszawa 1984, 238–​9. Anatol Stern, Aleksander Wat, “Prymitywiści do narodów świata i do Polski,” in Antologia polskiego futuryzmu i Nowej Sztuki, ed. H. Zaworska, Wrocław 1978, 3. It is not without reason that “the first Futurist evening was called ‘Wieczur pod­ tropikalny użądzony pszez białych Mużynów’ [Subtropical evening held by white Blacks], allegedly featuring a ‘half-​naked’ dance of Jusuf ben Mchim” (Paweł Majerski, Anarchia i formuły. Problemy twórczości poetyckiej Anatola Sterna, Katowice 2001, 57; see also Aleksander Wat, “Wspomnienia o polskim futuryzmie,” Miesięcznik Literacki 2 (1930), 71–​2). Scandals would be also contained in works themselves, especially regarding semantics and the structuring of poems. See Beata Śniecikowska, “Poetic Experiments in Polish Futurism: Imitative, Eclectic For Author use only Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry 395 Within Polish Futurism, primitivism manifesting as unrestrained jolliness, arbitrariness and rejection of all cultural traditions did not become the basis of many artistic projects, as demonstrated in the part of this study devoted to Dadaism. 2. The other extreme of the interest in whatever departs from high culture consists in the fascination with local folklore. Founders of the movement that programmatically dissociated itself from tradition would thus reach out to areas that certainly constitute part of national cultural heritage.9 The key to grasp this paradox is the category of uncivilized “purity” –​crucial from the perspective of the avant-​garde –​which was supposed to guarantee the primeval character of folk art.10 However, it seems pointless to seek deeper anal­ ogies between Polish Futurism and Marinetti’s movement; further, little can be ascertained in this context basing on the primitivism declared by Cabaret Voltaire.11 Italian Futurism and Dadaism basically distanced themselves from local folklore (with few exceptions, like the works of F. Depèro).12 Polish writers appear to be closest to contemporary Russian poets who would embrace “folk imagination, language and rhythm” (Blok, Yesenin, Mayakovsky, Khlebnikov, Kruchyonykh).13 9 10 11 12 13 or Original?,” International Yearbook of Futurism Studies, Vol. 2, ed. G. Berghaus, Berlin 2012, 188–​96. See Stanisław Czernik, Chłopskie pisarstwo samorodne, Warszawa 1954, 25–​6. According to Edward Balcerzan, “Futuryzm,” in Literatura polska w okresie międzywojennym, Vol. 1, eds. J. Kądziela, J. Kwiatkowski, I. Wyczańska, Kraków 1979, 134, “the turn to folklore was, in a way, ‘implied’ in earlier explorations of the Polish Futurists oriented toward ‘civilization’ and ‘biology.’ It was also implied in their concept of poetic language. Folklore provided patterns of spontaneous linguistic creativity, allowing one to speak directly and without ‘labels,’ combining rationality with ‘trans-​rationality’.” See also Marian Rawiński, “ ‘Słowo o Jakubie Szeli’ Brunona Jasieńskiego wobec folkloru,” Pamiętnik Literacki 1 (1971), 83–​4. Cf. Chapter Three (especially section two). See also Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 116. Stanisław Barańczak, “Trzy złudzenia i trzy rozczarowania polskiego futuryzmu,” in Etyka i poetyka. Szkice 1970–​1978, Paris 1979, 73, writes that, “[w]‌hen the mind is thrown into an ocean of absolute freedom, sooner or later it attempts to escape freedom (as Fromm argues), seeking some form of mainland offering support and authority. Czyżewski and Młodożeniec fled from Futurist freedom, finding refuge in folk poetry.” Przemysław Strożek, “Futurismo 100! Rovereto,” http://​obie.g.pl/​prez​enta​cje/​11881 (accessed 4 October 2014). Zaworska, “Przemiany polskiego futuryzmu,” 350. See also Władysław Piotrow­ ski, “Jesienin w literaturze polskiej okresu międzywojennego,” in O wzajemnych powiązaniach literackich polsko-​rosyjskich, eds. S. Fiszman, K. Sierocka, Wrocław 1969, 251–​6; Edward Balcerzan, Bruno Jasieński a Włodzimierz Majakowski, in O wzajemnych powiązaniach literackich polsko-​rosyjskich, 228–​44. For Author use only 396 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry Civilization constituted an ambivalent category for the Polish authors discussed in this study.14 Artists who called themselves Futurists would contrarily claim: “miasto burzymy. wszelki mechanizm –​aeroplany, tramwaje, wynalazki, telefon” [we demolish the city. all mechanisms –​airplanes, trams, inventions, telephone].15 On the other hand, the folk character would never become a synonym of fear or a symptom of alienation; instead, it would often constitute a safe haven offering relief from the fascinating yet horrifying urban environment.16 In many Futurist texts we may identify both references that thematize life in the countryside and structural relations between avant-​garde poems and folk literature.17 Usually, themes derived from folk tradition emerge in texts whose com­ position resembles folk songs. * This part of the study focuses mainly on the latter type of relations between Polish Futurism and primitivism, analysing the sound structure of poems whose composition can be tied to that of folk pieces. In this case, the striving towards primitivism manifests in entirely different terms than in the case of “exoticizing” works like “Romans Peru” by Stern.18 At that time, Dadaism and Italian Futurism –​close contemporaries of Wat, Stern and Młodożeniec –​were new movements whose reception was not settled. Certainly, interest in folklore predates these authors and goes back to Romanticism and Young Poland. In Poland, folk tradition was also strongly rooted in high culture and was still very much alive in its natural environment during the interwar period. The folklorization of Futurism also had an important biographical context, especially in the case of Młodożeniec and Czyżewski. In the latter’s poetry (and in Formist visual art)19 we can clearly discern elements of local folk culture and 14 15 16 17 18 19 See Andrzej Turowski, Awangardowe marginesy, Warszawa 1998, 48; Zaworska, “Przemiany polskiego futuryzmu,” 358; Stanisław Burkot, Stanisław Młodożeniec. Rzecz o chłopskim futuryście, Warszawa 1985, 44; Andrzej Lam, Z teorii i praktyki awangardyzmu, Warszawa 1976, 29; Andrzej Lam, Polska awangarda poetycka. Programy lat 1917–​1923, Vol. 1: Instynkt i ład, Kraków 1969, 169. Stern, Wat, “Prymitywiści do narodów świata i do Polski,” 4. See Helena Zaworska, O nową sztukę. Polskie programy artystyczne lat 1917–​1922, Warszawa 1963, 235. See Jan Trzynadlowski, “Futuryzm polski,” in Futuryzm i jego warianty w literaturze europejskiej, ed. J. Heistein, Wrocław 1977, 109. Cf. section two in Chapter Three. Relations between folklore on the one hand and Czyżewski’s literary and Formist visual works on the other are discussed more broadly in Beata Śniecikowska, Słowo –​obraz –​dźwięk. Literatura i sztuki wizualne w koncepcjach polskiej awangardy 1918–​1939, Kraków 2005, 141–​ 68. See also Sławomir Sobieraj, Laboratorium awangardy. O twórczości literackiej Tytusa Czyżewskiego, Siedlce 2009, 170–​83. For Author use only Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry 397 childhood imagination from Podhale translated into the language of art, often in innovative and highly original ways. Młodożeniec, who hails from the area of Sandomierz, also first brushed with art thanks to folk culture. Finally, beyond strictly artistic aspects, Futurist folklorism would be strongly motivated by ideology.20 Therefore, the fact that the Futurists would reach out to the folk tradition did not make them pioneering innovators in Polish literature.21 What seems genuinely new, however, can be identified in their novel solutions inspired by folklore. At the same time, we must bear in mind that drawing from folklore is part of a broader trend consisting in the search for national elements in art. Towards the end of the nineteenth century and in the first decades of the twentieth (with Poland’s regained independence playing a significant role here)22 this problem clearly emerges in visual arts,23 although literature would also often become the area of such explorations. The motivation behind this is clearly explained by Czyżewski: The instinctual base of folk art can save Polish art –​not through its imitation but by properly experiencing its grand yet simple form.24 A similar though not identical belief was expressed by Jan Nepomucen Miller, a literary critic from the interwar period, who argues that 20 21 22 23 24 According to Jan Józef Lipski, “O poezji Tytusa Czyżewskiego,” Twórczość 6 (1960), 77, Jasieński saw the turn to folklore as an “attempt to find a psychological and cultural key to the problem of the peasant social revolution.” Analyses contained in this study do not cover certain works (such as Słowo o Jakubie Szeli) along with their political and social entanglements because they are not directly connected with the fundamental issue from the area of poetics and have been already discussed in detail. See Edward Balcerzan, “Wstęp,” in Bruno Jasieński, Utwory poetyckie, manifesty, szkice, ed. E. Balcerzan, Wrocław 1972, ix, xix-​xxvii; Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 121–​4; Grzegorz Gazda, “Poezja walka”̨ (Z problemów poetyki ‘Ziemi na lewo’ i ‘Trzech salw’), Zeszyty Naukowe Uniwersytetu Łódzkiego. Nauki Humanistyczno-​Społeczne, series 1, Vol. 2, Łódź 1975, 45–​52; Zaworska, “Przemiany polskiego futuryzmu,” 363. See Paweł Majerski, “ ‘Widzenie rzeczy.’ O języku (w) poezji Anatola Sterna,” in Odmiany awangardy, Katowice 2001, 29; Sergiusz Sterna-​Wachowiak, Miąższ zakazanych owoców. Jankowski –​Jasieński –​Grędziński (szkice o futuryzmie), Bydgoszcz 1985, 30, 39. This problem is interestingly described in the context of European art by Markus Eberharter in Der poetische Formismus Tytus Czyżewskis. Ein literarischer Ansatz der frühen polnischen Avantgarde und sein mitteleuropäischer Kontext, München 2004, 91–​2. See also Ryszard Nycz, Język modernizmu, Wrocław 2002, 27–​8. See Śniecikowska, Słowo –​obraz –​dźwięk, 143–​6. Czyżewski’s statement quoted from Ż̇ycie Polskie by Rawiński in “ ‘Słowo o Jakubie Szeli’,” 84. For Author use only 398 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry the greatest expressive power and the smallest degree of artificiality are displayed in the primitive folk “dadanaism,” which conveys –​even in the nonsensical refrain “dadana” itself –​the great and boundless flow of internal life hanging in the balance somewhere in the vast infinity. These themes should be sought out primarily to reclaim the direct truth of primordial sounds buried under the influence of foreign languages and civilization.25 1. F  olklore phonostylistics Before proceeding to analyse specific Futurist poems I must clarify what textual elements are connected with folk art, especially in terms of phonostylistics. The catalogue of folk literary characteristics assembled here is certainly not original. Nevertheless, let us gather the fundamental hallmarks of folk art related to sound structure. This is all the more important since literary analyses tend to reduce the folk character to a handful of self-​evident aspects. In fact, the richness of these compositions often escapes the attention of scholars who invoke folk culture merely as a context or a framework in order to elaborate on other cultural phenomena.26 The focus is placed here primarily on the most important characteristics of the largest category: folk songs. Other types of folk literature are accounted for to a lesser extent.27 Issues that are crucial from the perspective of this study are addi­ tionally illustrated with examples derived from folk pieces.28 Thus, crucial charac­ teristics of folklore phonostylistics include: – various kinds of repetitions;29 – strong (and predictable) structural parallelisms ordering the composition:30 25 26 27 28 29 30 Jan N. Miller, “Harmonja dźwiękowa w poezji najnowszej,” Ponowa 3 (1921), 187. Karol Irzykowski, “Dadanaizm,” in Słoń wśród porcelany, Warszawa 1934, 141, polemicized with Miller by primarily criticizing new instrumentation devices in high poetry: “It seems to me that these refrains … or Blümner’s ‘sound groups’ do not contain more feeling or even sound than any other words that additionally denote concepts; in my view, artificial emphasis of purely sonic qualities or lettering does not thicken the emotional tenor.” This remark naturally does not regard detailed, specialized studies in folklore (ethnographic and ethnolinguistic). For more on divisions within folk literature see Kazimierz Moszyński, Kultura ludowa Słowian, Vol. 2, Warszawa 1968, 733. This is based on Jan S. Bystroń, Polska pieśń ludowa, Kraków [undated], 8–​13. See also Jan M. Kasjan, “Kompozycja tekstu polskich pieśni ludowych,” in Z pogranicza literatury i sztuk, ed. Z. Mocarska-​Tycowa, Toruń 1996, 89–​97. This aspect of folk structure is discussed on pp. 490–​3. The role of parallelisms is discussed for example in Jerzy Bartmiński, “Formy obecności sacrum w folklorze,” in Folklor –​sacrum –​religia, eds. J. Bartmiński, M. Jasińska-​Wojtkowska, Lublin 1995, 14–​5; Roman Jakobson, “Poetyka w świetle For Author use only Folklore phonostylistics 399 apostrophic,31 logical32 and formal,33 often entailing syntactical parallelisms; – enumerating,34 comparing and juxtaposing terms;35 – using glossolalia (frequent use of glossolalic “words” such as “lelum,” “ładom,” “łado,” “tody,” “dody,” “łałym”).36 Consider two regional versions of a song about an old woman who had a goat: W mazowieckim mieście Miała baba kozła; Am ut, taput, Dzik, dzik, dzik mazura –​ Miała baba kozła… Była babuleńka pięknego rodu, Miała koziołeczka o jednym rogu. Hop sztynder Madaliński, 31 32 33 34 35 36 językoznawstwa,” trans. K. Pomorska, in W poszukiwaniu istoty języka. Wybór pism, Vol. 2, ed. M. R. Mayenowa, Warszawa 1989, 106–​8; Roman Jakobson, “Poezja gramatyki i gramatyka poezji,” trans. Z. Kloch, in W poszukiwaniu istoty języka, 227–​32; Roman Jakobson, Paralelizm gramatyczny i jego aspekt rosyjski, trans. A. Tanalska, in W poszukiwaniu istoty języka, 157–​206. One example of this is the following text based on corresponding apostrophes: “–​Czego kalino w dole stoisz? /​Czy ty się letniej suszy boisz? /​–​Żebym się suszy ja nie bała, /​Tobym przy dole nie stojała. /​–​Czego, dziewczyno, smętna stoisz? /​ Czyli się ojca, matki boisz? /​–​Oj żebym się ich nie bojała, /​Tobym ja smętna nie stojała” (qtd. after Moszyński, Kultura ludowa Słowian, 694). Logical parallelism is “a juxtaposition of two analogous images, one taken from the world of plants and animals, the other from human life.” Images are connected using a reconstructible semantic tie. See for example: “Przykryło się niebo obłokami, /​Przykryła się Marysia rąbkami” (qtd. after Moszyński, Kultura ludowa Słowian, 684). In the case of formal parallelisms, images built around parallels share nothing in terms of content. Consider the following excerpt from a song: “Oj, z kamienia na kamień /​Da przestępuje jeleń. /​Oj chłopcy mnie kochają, /​Da ja o tym nic nie wiem” (qtd. after Moszyński, Kultura ludowa Słowian, 700). As exemplified in the following passage: “Komuż ona dała te złote jabłuszka? /​ Jednoż ona dała swemu panu ojcu, /​Drugie ona dała swojej pani matce, /​Trzecie ona dała swemu panu bratu, /​Czwarte ona dała swojej pani siostrze, /​Piąte ona dała temu, co kochała” (qtd. after Moszyński, Kultura ludowa Słowian, 678). See Roch Sulima, Folklor i literatura, Warszawa 1976, 35; Moszyński, Kultura ludowa Słowian, 698. Examples qtd. after Julian Przyboś, Jabłoneczka. Antologia polskiej pieśni ludowej, Warszawa 1953, 76, 145; Polskie kolędy ludowe, ed. J. Bartmiński, Kraków 2002, 218. The exclamation “łado” is discussed by Stanisław Czernik, Poezja chłopów polskich, Warszawa 1951, 36, who regards the exclamation as an element of ancient and pagan origin. For Author use only 400 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry Fika, z góry ta, Zbara ciup, ciup pinderyndum hura, Barabasza mazura!…;37 – echolalic refrains38 and recurring asemantic, short clusters of sounds (e.g. “u-​chu,” “hej lom-​lom,” “traila la la trai lai la”);39 – exclamations (“oj,” “hej,” “ej”)40 and exclamatory refrains (“hej, lelija!,” “hej, kolęda! hej nam, hej”);41 – diminutives and hypocorisms; based on the same root and appearing next to each other, they form, along with basic word forms, etymological figures typical of folk literature;42 – proper onomatopoeias imitating animal sounds;43 this characteristic is widely regarded as one of the hallmarks of folk literature. However, studies of folk texts show that such formations are not too frequent in them. Still, it should be noted that folk pieces contain such elements, e.g. “kle, kle, kle, bocianie!” [sounds of a stork], “gąseczka gęgu, gęgu” [sounds of a goose], “jędycka gulu, gulu, gulu” [sounds of a turkey], “świnecka kwiku, kwiku”44 [sounds of a pig], or “rech, rech,” “rade, rade,” “kum, kum,” “kwa, kwa” (croaking of frogs),45 etc.; – close grammatical rhymes.46 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 Qtd. after Jerzy Cieślikowski, Wielka zabawa, Wrocław 1985, 50. Rough transla­ tion of non-​onomatopoeic passages: “In a Masovian city /​An old lady had a goat /​… /​The old lady was of noble origin /​Her goat had a single horn.” In old songs that do not employ rhyme monotonous refrains are repeated after every part of the text (Czernik, Poezja chłopów polskich, 38, 42–​3, 59). Examples qtd. after Przyboś, Jabłoneczka, 47–​9, 130; Czernik, Poezja chłopów polskich, 54. See for example: Przyboś, Jabłoneczka, 43, 62–​3, 70–​1, 76. See Polskie kolędy ludowe, 205–​6, 226–​9. See Jerzy Bartmiński, O języku folkloru, Wrocław 1973, 136–​170. In folklore we encounter numerous, often ingenious diminutive forms. One example of a phonically distinct, diminutive etymological figure is: “Zorze, zorzeczeńki! /​Wszystkieśta moje siostruczeńki!” (Stanisław Czernik, Trzy zorze dziewicze. Wśród zamawiań i zaklęć, Warszawa 1968, 75; emphasis added. For other examples of folk diminutives and hypocorisms see Czernik, Trzy zorze dziewicze, 111, 114, 117, 129–​30, 197). See Cieślikowski, Wielka zabawa, 135–​49. Examples qtd. after Cieślikowski, Wielka zabawa, 85, 137. In the quoted phrases phrases onomatopeias, quite conventional ones, are in italics. Examples qtd. after Przyboś, Jabłoneczka, 211–​2. See also “Wierszyk o targu” (featuring numerous proper onomatopoeias partially formed from actual words), in Antologia poezji dziecięcej, ed. J. Cieślikowski, Wrocław 1981, 347–​9. The oldest folk literature did not use rhyme, which nevertheless later became a typical, almost indispensable aspect of such works. Most rhymes are perfect (many being grammatical), while near rhymes constitute as little as one fifth of all rhyming pairs (Moszyński, Kultura ludowa Słowian, 673–​5). For Author use only Folklore phonostylistics 401 As scholars unanimously emphasize, one of the key issues in folk poetics is the question of various repetitions.47 Their high frequency and general significance clearly distinguish folk literature from other forms.48 Allow me to foreground the variety of ways in which this technique is employed. In folk pieces, most repetitions introduce a certain predictability and regularity, even if this is not always reflected in versification, which is nevertheless usually syllabic. Folk repetitions include:49 – repetitions of entire lines or their parts50 (often connected with music, for example encores). Consider the following passage: W olszynie ja wołki pasła, w olszynie mnie nocka zaszła, w olszynie. W olszyniem je pogubiła, w olszynie mnie matka biła, w olszynie.51 [In the alder grove I pastured oxen, In the alder grove the night surprised me, in the alder grove. In the alder grove I lost them, in the alder grove my mother beat me, in the alder grove.] 47 48 49 50 51 Moszyński, Kultura ludowa Słowian, 667, states that “[i]‌t is difficult to emphasize strongly enough the great significance of the repetition of word fragments, words and sentences for folk literary artistry. It is an immensely primitive and old means of achieving artistic effects. … In Slavic folk literature repetition has many faces, covering a wide range: individual sounds, word fragments, entire words, sentence fragments, entire sentences and even several (or a dozen or so) lines.” As Jerzy Bartmiński, Folklor –​język –​poetyka, Wrocław 1990, 196, argues, “repetition is the stylistic dominant of folk texts, appearing as the principle behind word groups, sentences, lines, stanzas and entire texts, often without clear connection with the semantics of repeated elements.” For a detailed account of various kinds of repetitions in everyday speech and folklore see Bartmiński, O języku folkloru, 48–​58. Bartmiński, O języku folkloru, 48. Unless stated otherwise, examples qtd. after Bartmiński, Folklor –​język –​poetyka, 194–​204. See the detailed remarks by Niebrzegowska on the recursive character of folk texts: Stanisława Niebrzegowska, “Pętla semantyczna w paradygmacie spójnościowym tekstu,” in Tekst. Problemy teoretyczne, eds. J. Bartmiński, B. Boniecka, Lublin 1998, 169–​185. Qtd. after Czernik, Poezja chłopów polskich, 138. For Author use only 402 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry – concatenation (“A czyjże to czyj ten nowy dwór? /​A w tym dworze komnateczka, /​W komnateczce okieneczka, /​W jednym okienku krasna pani, /​Krasna pani z panienkami”52 [And whose is this new mansion? /​And inside it a little chamber, /​In the chamber little windows, /​And in one of them a handsome lady, /​A handsome lady with maidens]); – dialogic repetitions (“A jakże mnie ustawisz, Janeczku kochany? /​Ustawiam cię z ludźmi i z Bogiem na niebie” [And how do you place me, beloved Janek? /​ I place you among the people and with God in the sky]); – anaphoric repetitions, usually entailing syntactic parallelism; – tautologies (“wisi wisielec” [a hangman hangs] “darzyć darem” [to gift with a gift] “kukułeczka kuka” [a cuckoo cuckoos]), which can sometimes include neologisms (“bieży bieżelec,” “tańcuj tańcowadło,” “doradź doradeńko,” “lulaj lulasku”). Aside from diminutives, such tautologies constitute typical examples of folk etymological figures (pseudo-etymologies are virtually absent from folk pieces); – repetition of prepositions or other parts of speech close to nouns (“do zielonej, do dąbrowy” [to the green, to the oak forest], “tam dziewczyna, tam jedyna” [there (is) the girl, there (is) the only one], “widzisz Kasińku, widzisz nadobna” [you see Katie, you see comely]; – repetition of enclitics and so-​called occasional enclitics (“koń się po nocy zastraszył się,” “nawet by królewna taką by nie była,” “dała ja bym ci ja dała”); – synonymic repetitions, often forming grammatical rhymes (“stuknął puknął” [tapped rapped], “czemuś smutna niewesoła” [why are you sad, joyless]); – repetition of commands and vocatives (“fabryko, fabryko, wysoko stawiona” [factory, factory, rising so high], “ni śpiwaj, ni śpiwaj, bo ja cię nie proszę” [do not sing, do not sing, as I do not ask you to (sing)]); – other kinds of word repetition. Originally, repetitions served an almost magical role, the same meanings recurring throughout the text as if in a ritual cycle, representing cyclical time, slowing down communication and augmenting its expressive power.53 Certainly, this does 52 53 Excerpt from the Polish carol qtd. after Moszyński, Kultura ludowa Słowian, 669–​ 70. Rough translation: “And whose is this new manor house? /​And in this manor a chamber, /​Inside there are little windows, /​In one of them a beautiful lady, /​ A beautiful lady with girls.” See Bartmiński, Folklor –​język –​poetyka, 203; Bartmiński, “Formy obecności sacrum,” 14. Sacred origins of repetition (in texts and ritual gestures) are also discussed in Bartmiński, Folklor –​język –​poetyka, 195–​8; Joanna Tokarska-​Bakir, Obraz osobliwy, Kraków 2000, 13–​16; Jerzy Bartmiński, “O rytualnej funkcji powtórzeń w folklorze,” in Sacrum w literaturze, eds. J. Gotfryd, M. Jasińska-​ Wojtkowska, S. Sawicki, Lublin 1983, 257–​66; Rawiński, “ ‘Słowo o Jakubie Szeli’,” 117–​18. For a comparative discussion of the role of repetition in high literature, see Jarosław Płuciennik, Retoryka wzniosłości w dziele literackim, Kraków 2000, 194–​6. For Author use only Futurist countryside lyricism 403 not justify the claim that every repetition and parallelism –​either in folk literature or works stylized as such –​are instances of the magical functions of language. As Bartmiński notes, “with time, ritual became ornamental, while repetition lost its sacred and sacralizing function, becoming solely an aesthetic ornament.”54 In the case of Futurist poems, repetitions borrowed from the folk tradition can perform, as this study attempts to demonstrate, other roles than ornamental or ritual. One of the fundamental characteristics of folk literature is its rhythmic nature and close connection with music.55 Although Futurist poems were naturally deprived of instrumental accompaniment –​so crucial in folklore –​the awareness of folklore-​ based marriage of word and music would still play a substantial role, as confirmed for example by Czyżewski’s “Pastorałka (misterium),”56 which I analysed above. There, the function of instrumental music is performed by the interestingly arranged instrumentation. Futurists would allude to folklore phonostylistics in many ways and for different purposes. We may identify four basic strategies behind such allusions, which are discussed in subsequent sections. 2. F  uturist countryside lyricism Texts presented in this section employ folk style in order to create a pastoral mood and invoke the mythical rural Arcadia, although differently than literature from previous epochs. The structure of these poems features many directives from folk art. Still, poems discussed here cannot be regarded as instances of either pastiche (they transform folk style to a high degree, although this convention was very much alive in the interwar period)57 or parody (they do not any ridicule folk patterns). The compositions created in this way often balance between stylization and continuation.58 Thus, we should accentuate their innovative aspects in relation to regular folk forms. Consider “Pastuch” [Shepherd] by Stanisław Młodożeniec:59 54 55 56 57 58 59 Bartmiński, Folklor –​język –​poetyka, 203. See Piotr Bogatyriew, “Pieśń ludowa z funkcjonalnego punktu widzenia,” in Semiotyka kultury ludowej, ed. M. R. Mayenowa, Warszawa 1979, 184, 195; Dorota Simonides, “Folklor słowny,” in Folklorystyka, part 1, eds. P. Kowalski, T. Smolińska, Opole 1992, 23–​5; Czernik, Poezja chłopów polskich, 10–​28. Cf. p. 293 ff. “Classic” pastiche involves imitating a convention that is already passé or marginal in a given period. See Janusz Sławiński, “Poetyka pastiszu,” in Przypadki poezji, ed. W. Bolecki, Kraków 2001, 288 (cf. section 3C in Chapter One). See Stanisław Balbus, “Stylizacja i zjawiska pokrewne,” Pamiętnik Literacki 2 (1983), 150. Early texts by Młodożeniec (“Pastuch,” “Zgrzyt,” “Pogrzeb”) are defined as poems “deeply embedded in the coarse folk style.” His later works are also strongly suffused with folk qualities (Tomasz Burek, “Sztandar futuryzmu na chłopskim wąkopie For Author use only 404 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry piJany na wirzbowym kiJu TRAJkoce MAJ –​ fUJarecko mOJa –​ OJA –​JAJ KRASUla posła Jaz do LASU akaJ ze kaJ fUJarecko mOJa –​ OJA –​JAJ po ROSie sama trowa ROŚnie na co ci gaJ fUJarecko mOJa –​ OJA –​JAJ TRAJkoce MAJ [drUnken on willow stIck chaTTERing MAY –​ plAY, mY shepherd’s pIPE –​ OY-​AY-​AY A COW went Ance to FOREST wee-​AY zee-​AY plAY, mY shepherd’s pIPE –​ OY-​AY-​AY after DEW the grass GROWS by itself no need for grOve plAY, mY shepherd’s pIPE –​ OY-​AY-​AY chaTTERing MAY] (Młodoż., Up 63)60 graJ graJ graJ plAY plAY plAY Burkot claims that “from the very start, speech would be valued higher than writing in the aesthetic concept developed by Młodożeniec. Poetry as the sound-​ and-​rhythm structure of language should be recited and listened.”61 Indeed, the “recited and listened to” work reveals a surprising number of harmonies, fully concretizing the sound texture of the poems (as is quite obvious). However, it was Młodożeniec –​along with Tytus Czyżewski –​who employed visual devices on 60 61 albo o poezji Stanisława Młodożeńca,” in Stanisław Młodożeniec, Utwory poetyckie, ed. T. Burek, Warszawa 1973, 6; see also Bożena Lewandowska, “U źródeł grafiki funkcjonalnej w Polsce,” in Ze studiów nad genezą plastyki nowoczesnej w Polsce, ed. J. Starzyński, Wrocław 1966, 217). Młodożeniec himself regarded his poems “Wesele,” “Pogrzeb,” “Zgrzyt” as peasant in character (qtd. after Burkot, Stanisław Młodożeniec, 43). Rough translation: “on a willow stick, drunk /​May is chattering /​play, my she­ pherd’s pipe /​a cow went into the woods /​… /​dew makes the grass grow /​… /​ May is chattering.” Burkot, Stanisław Młodożeniec, 43. For Author use only Futurist countryside lyricism 405 a large scale, experimenting with punctuation and different methods of presentation.62 The visual diversity of the text plays an important role also in the discussed poem –​special typesetting can be, after all, quite useful in emphasizing (visualizing) phonic correspondences.63 Sound clusters and phrases highlighted by Młodożeniec represent features typical of folk poetry –​albeit the use of the visual aspect was entirely alien to folk tradition –​e.g. the distinct interjections “OJA –​ JAJ,” the refrain “fUJarecko mOJa –​graJ” as well as repetition of individual words, entire lines and rhymes. Furthermore, the poem contains instances of paronomasia, which is clearly of different origin. Sound-​based harmonies are also underlined through the use of majuscule. We must indicate the following: – configurations approximate anagrams, i.e. cases when most sounds are shared by two words: “KRASUla” –​“LASU,” – parechesis: “ROSie” –​“ROŚnie,” – visual emphasis (at least partial) of inter-​word alliterations involving one or more sounds: “piJany” –​“kiJu;” “fUJarecko mOJa,” – specific internal rhymes –​the onset of the first word rhymes with a shorter word further in the same line: “TRAJkoce MAJ;” “KRASUla” –​“LASU.” Młodożeniec identifies and utilizes –​pushing various sound relations to the extreme –​folk literature’s tendency to valorize sound in a special way. The text almost seems like a quotation from an authentic folk piece due to the significant role of consistently applied dialectal stylization. However, we may tie it to folk patterns only partially. This is confirmed not just by its experimental visual dimension but primarily by its phonic excesses, achieved through the intensification of characteristics known from folk songs and the addition of above-​mentioned phonostylistic elements that are not rooted in the folk tradition. Acknowledging the sound-​based excess in the poem by Młodożeniec, Burkot argues: The “musicality” of this poem is deeply rooted in folklore, although it is easily observable that it also enters a polemic with this tradition. This melody is played on two fiddle strings, wailing and harsh. It is foregrounded by opposing sounds: on the one hand the “OJ,” “AJ,” “UJ,” “JAJ,” while on the other –​hoarse ones organized around the consonant “r.” The poem can be successfully interpreted as a parody or a polemic with traditional ways of deploying folklore in poetry. Its visual organization imposes on this fundamental duality a new, more complex order: the interweaving repetition of the same sound units creates a different, more complicated rhythm, one that develops the folk concept of melic poetry.64 The term “parody” seems unwarranted in relation to this piece. Młodożeniec does not parody the folk style but rather modifies its patterns, primarily by adding to 62 63 64 Burkot notes this as well (see Stanisław Młodożeniec, 47). Cf. Conclusion. See Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 117. Burkot, Stanisław Młodożeniec, 46–​7; emphasis added. For Author use only 406 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry its sound dimensions, e.g. through regular rhyme and verse structure, which are nonetheless far more complex than is typically the case in folk literature. Still, Burkot invokes a polemic with existing modes of imbuing literature with a folk character. This aspect of his diagnosis is certainly right. Undoubtedly, the countryside Futurist offers in his poem a new way of utilizing folk structures65 in compar­ ison with the Romantics and Young Poland.66 In this context, I believe we should turn to the atmospheric poem “Żal” [Sorrow] by Młodożeniec: Zadygotał –​zachybotał czarny staw –​w czarną noc od tych wiatrów –​duchów złych… Taki mały –​maluteńki mam ci żal –​–​–​ rzucę w staw… Niech dygoce –​niech chyboce w czarnym stawie –​w czarne noce –​ Hej –​–​ Taki mały –​maluteńki żal się zżali i rozpłynie… Może piersi będzie lżej… [Trembling –​swaying the black lake –​on a black night moved by the winds –​evil spirits… So small –​tiny I have a sorrow –​–​–​ to throw into the lake… Let it tremble –​let it sway in the black lake –​on black nights –​ Hey –​–​ So small –​so tiny the sorrow will sorrow away and dissolve… Maybe it will get off my chest…] (Młodoż., Up 162)67 65 66 67 Apart from the described phonostylistics devices, elements that do not fit the earlier convention of employing folk aspects include the words “Krasula” and “trajkoce.” See the first section in Chapter One. Text contained in the volume Futuro-​gamy i futuro-​pejzaże (1933); originally prin­ ted in Formiści 2 (1920) (qtd. after Burek, “Przypisy,” Młodoż., Up 506). For Author use only Futurist countryside lyricism 407 Although the poem can evoke numerous associations with folk literature, it is not the case that stylization appears to be its constitutive element. The text is almost entirely comprised of components typical of folklore. Apart from the interjection “hej,” we can indicate a wide range of various structural correspondences of crucial import for the development of the poem’s sound texture. These include an alliterative, tautological repetition that creates deep internal rhymes (“zadygotał” [trembling] –​“zachybotał” [swaying]), repetition of the particle “niech” in the imperative (also tautological: “niech dygoce” [let it tremble] –​“niech chyboce” [let it sway]), an interesting tautology featuring a deverbal neologism (“żal się zżali”), an etymological figure based on a synonymic repetition, featuring discernible gradation of meanings (“mały” [small] “maluteńki” [very small, tiny]), polyptotonic lexical repetition (concerning the words “staw” [lake], “noc” [night] and “czarny” [black]). Unlike “Pastuch,” this poem features no evident modifications of instrumentation rooted in folk literature. Still, “Żal” is not an imitation of a folk song. Although it does contain many compositional elements characteristic for folklore, in many respects displaying folkloristic hyper-​correctness (much like “Kolęda w olbrzymim mieście” by Czyżewski),68 Młodożeniec did not include two vital (though inessential) elements of folk literature. After all, the poem lacks folk-​like regularity of repetitions (which usually create unique rhythms), or syllabic and rhyme-​based correspondences between specific lines. Complex instrumentation rooted in frequent yet irregular and unpredictable echoes does not suffice to assemble a text approximating authentic folk literature. The sophisticated sound structure of the poem rather feels closer to the poetics of Young Poland. “Żal” is a thoroughly reflexive poem. Besides the mysterious and dangerous lake –​borrowed from folklore or turn-​of-​the-​century lyricism –​ the poem does not really refer to any specifics rooted in reality. Meanwhile, the frequent verbalization of tangible elements from one’s surroundings is characteristic for all, even the most existential folk poems.69 In “Żal,” meanings are neb­ ulous, unclear and ambiguous. Młodożeniec certainly achieved something that many Young Poland writers aspired to: he structurally fused content typical of atmospheric symbolism with an interest in folk character. The last element, however, would not become synonymous with strength, fitness and simplicity. Such a folklorization was achieved here through unique yet untypical instrumentation, bringing the text’s structure closer to folk compositions without employing themes or text-​wide schemata characteristic for folk art.70 Although “Żal” draws from folklore, it is not subordinated to the idea of total stylization. Selected elements 68 69 70 Cf. the analysis on pp. 415 ff. See Moszyński, Kultura ludowa Słowian, 653. Young Poland would relatively often recall themes related to rural culture, the­ matizing folklore. The poems, however, would be written primarily following principles of high poetics. Cf. pp. 67–​8. For Author use only 408 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry typical of folk literature are deployed to create an atmospheric symbolist poem that foregrounds its sonic dimension. Another poem that ought to be situated in the context of literary representations marked by folk character is “Złoty wąż” [Golden snake], the first part of Czyżewski’s “De profundis:” i stało się to co stać się miało a słowo ciałem się stało i między nami mieszkało .......................... i trąby gór zagrały latarnie mórz zajaśniały koniki polne zaśpiewały pomarańczowe wiatry wiały ręce i nogi oniemiały doliny rozzieleniały hola hola do kola .......................... hola hola do kola wychodź panno do pola wychodź z sierpem do żęcia do ślubu i poczęcia .......................... Wy nie bójcie się młodzi wy od torby i liry dostaniecie siekiery i ziemia wam wygodzi wygodzi obrodzi … Śpiewają, gwizdają gędzieją nad rzekami słowiki po zawrotach czyżyki w gaju złote szczygliki mosiężne kapele czelle w miastach koła się kręcą czarne złote czerwone maszyny rozwścieklone poją huczą nęcą For Author use only Futurist countryside lyricism … i cisza po dolinach i owce po zboczynach i po wierchach wiatry wiatry płonące .......................... i cisza w podniesienie latem przewiewne sienie i ziarno łez w stodole i stado owiec w pole na role … po mych izbach już orzą złote pługi i brony po mych kościołach kołach złote Marie ikony tleją palą się gorzą mdleją chwieją [and it happened what was supposed to happen the word became flesh and lived among us .......................... and the bugles of mountains sounded the sea lighthouses lit up grasshopers sang orange winds blew hands and legs fell silent valleys turned green I say I say to the circle .......................... I say I say to the circle come young girl to the fields come out with a sickle for reaping for marriage and conception .......................... You the young do not be afraid you with sacks and lyres will receive axes and the earth will reward you For Author use only 409 410 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry reward and be plentiful … They sing and whistle playing music nightingales over rivers siskins in acrobatics goldfinches in groves brass bands cellos in cities the wheels are turning black golden red furious machines water roar tempt … and silence over the valleys and sheep on hillsides and through the treetops winds winds burning .......................... and silence during elevation airy hallways in summer and a seed of tears in the barn and a flock of sheep in the field on the farmland … in my chambers they already reap golden ploughs and harrows over my churches wheels golden icons of Mary smoulder burn and glow fainting swaying] (Czyż., Pipd 74–​7) The poem is highly heterogeneous and complex. It lacks regular refrains, while its syntactic parallelisms appear only in smaller, irregularly distributed parts of the text. Moreover, we can discern various intertextual signals: references to the Gospel of St. John and the carol by Franciszek Karpiński (“a słowo ciałem się stało” [and the Word became flesh]) as well as stylized elements resembling a folk song (“hola hola do kola” [holla holla join the circle]). Grammatical rhymes carry associations with mediaeval texts (which is augmented by stylized, Old Polish verb forms “tleją” and “gorzą”) and folk literature. Characteristics of the latter can be also identified in enumerations, some of which are tautological lists containing the For Author use only Futurist countryside lyricism 411 same parts of speech (“tleją palą się gorzą” [smoulder burn and glow], “czarne złote czerwone” [black golden red], “słowiki” –​“czyżyki” –​“szczygliki” [nightingales –​ siskins –​goldfinches]. Thanks to these devices, despite the lack of repetition-​based hallmarks of folklore such as refrains or parallelisms of stanzas, readers may recognize that folk imagery and composition constitute the dominant in this apocalyptic pastoral that describes both peaceful countryside and feverish urban life. Nevertheless, the entire poem transcends the folk style due to its heterogeneity and eclecticism. In the case of Czyżewski, clearest references to the folk character can be found in the volume Pastorałki. As Marta Wyka observes, Pastorałki … is a perfect example of nobilitating countryside primitivism by Polish Futurists and Formists. One needs to remember that this turn was synonymous with discovering new territories for imagination. It is in the villages of Limanowa that Czyżewski placed his happy isles, at the same time achieving something of great importance: this world was not tainted by the narrator’s detachment but endowed with full autonomy, allowing it to exist in pure and authentic form.71 Pastorałki is also discussed above in the context of the volume’s possible filiation with Dadaism, which would confirm a close relationship between Czyżewski’s texts and structures from folk literature.72 However, we must still verify whether it is true that, in the case of these texts, we may actually speak of preserving the “pure and authentic form” of folk art. The volume contains poems clearly referring to folk songs or carols and more pastoral pieces approximating dramatic works.73 The latter are relatively longer texts of less condensed form than the “folkloristic” poems interpreted here. This clearly affects the appearance of these works since they are not characterized by a dense network of harmonies as in the case of “Pastuch” by Młodożeniec. Finally, they are rather varied in terms of using stylization-​geared sound devices. 71 72 73 Marta Wyka, “Tytus Czyżewski,” Twórczość 1 (1978), 99–​100; emphasis added. For more on the literary and visual arrangement of the volume (with woodcuts by Tadeusz Makowski) see Dorota Żrałko, “Inspiracje folklorem w twórczości artystów awangardowych na przykładzie ‘Pastorałek’ Tytusa Czyżewskiego z drzeworytami Tadeusza Makowskiego,” Literatura Ludowa 1 (2001), 39–​50. Cf. section two in Chapter Three. Some lyrical composition from the volume Pastorałki, especially ones of a clearly more rigid structure, depart from patterns announced in the book’s title: those characterizing realistic, bawdy and dramatized pastorals. As is marked in the titles of individual pieces, the volume also contains texts similar to carols –​ a form that is more coherent in terms of construction, closer to traditional artistic canons, and developed earlier (their old name being “kantyczki” [canticles]). See Jerzy Bartmiński, “Wstęp,” in Polskie kolędy ludowe, 23–​5; Maria Bokszczanin, “Kantyczka Chybińskiego. Z tradycji biblijnych i literackich kolędy barokowej,” in Literatura –​komparatystyka –​folklor. Księga poświęcona Julianowi Krzyżanowskiemu, Warszawa 1968, 732–​9. For Author use only 412 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry Except for “Kolęda w olbrzymim mieście” [Carol in a big city] (analysed further in this chapter), all poems from this volume feature the following characteristics:74 – regular rhymes, – inconsistent archaization, visible in inflection and spelling, – inconsistent dialectal stylization (with lexemes typical of the language of the countryside; still, the poet rarely acknowledges dialectal pronunciation). The third chapter of this study discusses the sound structure of “Kolęda” from Pastorałki, demonstrating that Czyżewski’s instrumentation perfectly fits the modified framework of folk pieces employing echo-​and glossolalia.75 Another poem also needs to be mentioned in this context, although it is discussed elsewhere in this study: “Pastorałki (misterium).”76 In this work we can note not only a Dadaist loosening of composition rigour but also the onomatopoeic and glossolalic rendition of structures and modes of presentation characteristic for folk literature. Illustration 11. Tadeusz Makowski, woodcut illustration from the volume Pastorałki by Tytus Czyżewski, Paris 1925, 9. Similar (though not identical) conclusions can be drawn from analyses of other poems contained in the volume. In some works, the poet reaches the heights of stylization, bringing to the foreground other sound devices than ones discussed above. 74 75 76 See Gazda, “Funkcja artystyczna pastorałek,” 87. Cf. p. 242 ff, 277–​8. Cf. p. 293 ff. For Author use only Futurist countryside lyricism 413 In “Kantyczki” [Canticles], for example, apart from repetitions, enumerations and tautologies typical of folklore, Czyżewski forms large portions of the text based on onomatopoeic expressions denoting the sounds of birds: zlecieli się do stajenki wszyscy ptakowie leśni grajkowie muzykantowie zleciały grzywacze, gołębie zasiadły na skraju na zrębie zleciały siwe sokoły, orłowie zięby, czyżyki i dzięciołowie zleciały szczygły i kowaliki śpiewaki leśne, muzyki a gołębie gru hu, gru hu, gru hu dzieciąteczku pod główeczkę puchu a orłowie: kwilu, kwilu a czyżyki: milu, milu a drozdy a kosy fiu, fiu drą się w niebogłosy [they flew down to the stable all the birds the forest musicians players doves and wood pigeons arrived and sat on the edge of the woods falcons and eagles arrived chaffinches, siskins, woodpeckers goldfinches and nuthatches forest singers, musicians the doves grunt coo, grunt coo, grunt coo down for the baby’s head to rest on and the eagles: warble, warble and the siskins: cuddly, cuddly and the thrushes and the blackbird chirp, chirrup shouting at the top of their voices] (Czyż., Pipd 180–​1; emphasis added) In ethnographic records of folk songs or folk-​inspired original (ritual) pastorals, onomatopoeic expressions of this kind are not particularly common. Despite the infrequent appearance, their distinctiveness makes them one of the textual For Author use only 414 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry hallmarks of folk character.77 Czyżewski uses this kind of instrumentation, imbuing “Kantyczka” with it, albeit in a manner rarely encountered in authentic folk literature (i.e. by relying heavily on onomatopoeia in short passages).78 Proper ono­ matopoeia can be treated as a simple, naturalistic “quotation from life.”79 Saturating the poem with such elements makes it appear more primeval and closer to nature. The specific Dadaization of onomatopoeias in Czyżewski’s work is discussed elsewhere.80 In this case, however, they are far more traditional in terms of their sound structure and referentiality than the structures analysed in Chapter Three. Thus, the proper onomatopoeia “gru hu, gru hu” does not come across as surprising. It appears to have been formed through analysis of the onomatopoeic word “gruchanie” [cooing] (the Polish noun “gruchanie” contains an expressive “r” and the plosive “g,” often used in onomatopoeias).81 “Kwilu, kwilu” is a glos­ solalic and onomatopoeic distortion of the verb “kwilić” [to warble]. “Milu, milu” is a more ingenious reference. Stylized as an onomatopoeia, it bases on the root “mił/​mil” [nice/​pleasant]. The sequence “fiu fiu” appears to be the least conventional, although on the other hand these sounds can be easily associated with the common interjection “fiu fiu!” [well well!]. Therefore, the use of onomatopoeic expressions does not confirm the poet’s innovativeness, although employing “secondary” proper onomatopoeias certainly makes the poem more attractive and modern. A rather marginal component of folk poetics is thus turned into a dominant aspect of the text, shifting the distribution of accents in the stylized actualization of folk pattern. However, this alteration of proportions can be easily overlooked insofar as it perfectly blends with the text of “Kantyczki” and our own concept of folk character. At the same time, the irregularity of repetitions and the preservation of quasi-​primitive onomatopoeias seem to bring the poem closer to the 77 78 79 80 81 See the excerpt from “Kaczka pstra” (qtd. after Antologia poezji dziecięcej, 359; a popular children’s carol included already in Pastorałki i kolędy by Michał M. Mioduszewski, Kraków 1843, 86–​7): “Gąsiorek, Jędorek Na bębenku wybijają, /​Pana wdzięcznie wychwalają: Gę, gę, gę, gęgają. /​Czyżyczek, Szczygliczek, /​ Na gardełeczkach jak skrzypeczkach, /​Śpiewają Panu w jasełeczkach: /​Lir lir lir, w jasełeczkach. … /​Skowronek jak dzwonek, /​Gdy się do nieba podnosi, /​ O kolędę pięknie prosi: /​Fir r r, tak prosi” [Gander, turkeycock /​Beating the drum, /​Gallantly to praise the Lord: gaggling gaggle-​gaggle. /​Little siskins, goldfinches, /​Playing their throats like fiddles, /​Singing to the Lord as in nativity plays: lee lee lee-​r, in a nativity play. … /​Skylarks like bells, /​When they rise in sky, /​Asking nicely for a carol: /​chirp chirp, they ask]. Also, the representation of individual species of birds is much richer in Czyżewski than in folk pieces. See Dobrochna Ratajczak, “Próby dramatyczne Tytusa Czyżewskiego,” Dialog 2 (1968), 76. Cf. the considerations on pp. 60–​4. Cf. section three of Chapter Three. Cf. fn. 101 in Chapter Two. For Author use only Futurist countryside lyricism 415 oldest known folk works.82 Despite the lack of sound-​based regularities, readers can easily identify the poem’s debt to folklore. Consider another poem from the volume Pastorałki –​“Kolęda w olbrzymim mieście” [Carol in a big city]: w olbrzymim mieście biegną ludzie w olbrzymim mieście w olbrzymim mieście tańczą kwiaty w olbrzymim mieście hej kolęda kolęda w olbrzymim mieście idzie wilia w olbrzymim mieście w olbrzymim mieście śmsięą się dzwony w olbrzymim mieście hej kolęda kolęda w olbrzymim mieście sięieją się dzieci w olbrzymim mieście w olbrzymim mieście niosą drzewka … w olbrzymim mieście szczuta psami sunie nędza zaułkami w olbrzymim mieście w olbrzymim mieście hej kolęda kolęda [people are running in a big city in a big city flowers are dancing in a big city in a big city hey carol carol Christmas Eve is coming in a big city in a big city in a big city the bells are laughing in a big city hey carol carol in a big city the children are laughing in a big city they are carrying trees in a big city 82 Cf. notes 37 and 45 in this chapter. For Author use only 416 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry … baited with dogs in a big city poverty is gliding in the backstreets in a big city in a big city hey carol carol] (Czyż., Pipd 187–​8) This composition also employs folk-​derived structures without any ironic or parodistic intention. Even when celebrated “in a big city,” Christmas Eve deserves traditional, carol-​like props. As Marian Rawiński argues, in this text, the stylization meant to make the poem imitative of a carol is almost perfect. With an almost magical dexterity of an imitator, the author of this pastoral conceals the margin of individual, poetic invention of an ex-​Futurist. We can recognize him, with some difficulty, in the ingenious complications of narration … and in the meticulous ordering of the onslaught of impressions. Besides, every stanza –​with naively inept freshness of language, God-​fearing simplicity of expression, continuous repetition and unceasingly recurring carol-​like refrain –​could just as well be derived from an anonymous folk song.83 Still, the matter is more complicated than that. Far from the simple verse structures found in folklore, this urban carol is paradoxically much more homogenous in terms of sound than peasant poetry. The poem’s organization relies on anaphora, syntactic parallelism and echo-​like repetition of phrases.84 These elements refer­ ence folk songs. Another important aspect of the poem is its specific use of refrain, emphasized with the interjection-​like and folk-​derived phrase “hej kolęda kolęda” [hey carol carol]. The tendency to introduce ordering repetitions is used here with tremendous consistency as the constantly returning phrase “w olbrzymim mieście” almost lends the poem the character of a litany.85 83 84 85 Rawiński, “ ‘Słowo o Jakubie Szeli’,” 106. The sound structure of the poem was also perfectly rendered through the visual arrangement in the volume Pastorałki (Paris 1925 [n.p.]). The text is recorded in two columns, one justified left and one right. The composition is also distinguished by the refrain-​like “hej kolęda kolęda,” anaphora and line repetition. See also Sobieraj, Laboratorium awangardy, 177. Authentic lyrics of carols are connected with the form of litany (see Roch Sulima, “Czas kolęd,” in Kolędy polskie, eds. J. Bartmiński, R. Sulima, Warszawa 1991, 6), but this connection is usually not as strongly emphasized as in the case of the poem by Czyżewski. For Author use only Futurist countryside lyricism 417 Illustration 12. Tadeusz Makowski, illustration from the volume Pastorałki by Tytus Czyżewski, Paris 1925, 19. The composition thus approximates the fragmentarily preserved, archaic, non-​ syllabic and par excellence refrain-​based folk pieces. In this sense, “Kolęda” really does draw on old folklore. However, it seems impossible to speak here of reproducing patterns from old carols (term used by Rawiński). Polish carols –​which began to emerge in the fifteenth century, flourishing as a genre in the seventeenth and eighteenth century –​did not have much in common with such structures or even with folklore.86 Elaborate, several-​word-​long repetitions that recur at short intervals throughout the text are rarely encountered in synchronically regarded folklore, i.e. as it is preserved in broad social consciousness. From this angle, Czyżewski could be said to have overdone the homophonic and echo-​like repetition of phrases (“w olbrzymim mieście;” “hej kolęda kolęda”). Although similar examples can be provided, like the below passage from a folk song, they are relatively infrequent: Prowda mi mówiły moje łocy, że som podaremne moje noce. Prowda mi mówiły moje rence, iż som podaremne moje tańce. Prowda mi mówiły moje nogi, 86 Cf. for example: Beata Śniecikowska, “Kolęda,” in Słownik rodzajów i gatunków literackich, eds. G. Gazda, S. Tynecka-​Makowska, Kraków 2006, 346–​8. For Author use only 418 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry iż som podaremne moje drogi.87 [It was the truth they were telling my eyes, that futile are my nights. It was the truth they were telling my hands, that futile are my dances. It was the truth they were telling my feet, that futile are my paths.] Both works –​the folk song and the poem by Czyżewski –​are based on lexical and semantic repetition. Still, it is the text representing high literature that turns out to be more disciplined in terms of sound and more clearly homogenized through three-​word-​long anaphora. Taken to the extreme, the repetition tendency paradoxically makes the poem more distant from the folk tradition. Over-​correctness in terms of stylization –​also achieved through constant use of the par excellence folk interjection “hej kolęda kolęda” –​also refers to other patterns. The poem oscillates between the folk character and that of a strictly ordered litany. Contrary to what Rawiński claims, there seems to be little chance for this poem to pass as an authentic folk song. The pedantic consistency, leading to sonic homogeneity, also brings to mind other literary and cultural contexts, not just ones related to folklore. Finally, it is impossible to regard this piece as a simple, sentimental story about Christmas in a city88 due to the Baudelaire-​like theme of poverty (“szczutej psami, sunącej zaułkami” [baited with dogs, gliding in the backstreets]), which appears later in the poem.89 As it turns out, not all poems from Pastorałki are “pure and authentic” (Wyka) representatives of folk forms. What Czyżewski borrows from the tradition is primarily the very convention of speaking along with numerous instrumentation devices. However, their structuring reveals –​contrary to what Rawiński argues –​ the poet’s inventiveness. Futurists would refer to such folk-​derived structuring techniques in many ways when composing their own poems reconstructing (at least to a degree) the mythical atmosphere of rural Arcadia. However, such decisions should not be interpreted as a clear sign of radical traditionalism. Poets employed devices known from folk 87 88 89 Qtd. after Przyboś, Jabłoneczka, 308. Wyka, “Tytus Czyżewski,” 100. See Gazda, Funkcja artystyczna pastorałek, 85. For Author use only The realism pole 419 songs, but these elements would be also skilfully transformed (e.g. the “dense,” proper onomatopoeic expressions in “Kantyczki” and the litany-​like ordering of “Kolęda w olbrzymim mieście”), introduced in new contexts and combined with other themes or tropes (e.g. the eclectic first part of “De profundis;” the symbolist “Żal,” hyper-​correct from the perspective of folk phonostylistics). Apart from sound devices derived from the folk tradition, they would employ ones entirely alien to folklore (e.g. certain paronomastic and visual devices in “Pastuch”). Finally, poets were able to recreate through sound the musical setting of a folk performance, which seemed impossible to render in literary terms, like in the case of the onomatopoeic expressions imitating the sounds of instruments in “Pastorałki (misterium)” by Czyżewski. Often used in works by the Polish Futurists, repetition would not make their poems more rhythmic as is the case with folk poetry. None of the poems discussed here replicate syllabic verse, which constitutes a characteristic element in most folk pieces;90 also, they largely abandon any regular rhyme patterns. Indeed, it is practically impossible to identify a poem that would thoroughly follow any folk model. Regardless, the sound dimension of discussed works is developed clearly, and readers can identify it as folk-​based or at least imitative of the folk tradition without effort, almost automatically, almost entirely due to irregular instrumentation. In the discussed group of texts, it is not dialectal stylization but specific sound configurations, based on typically folkloristic phonic repetitiveness (though far from any fully predictable, song-​like regularity), that constitute the condition of folkloristic stylization. This appears to reflect the perception of beauty in folk literature, in which sonic distinctiveness is an indispensable factor. Futurists would reject the “parroting” repetition of sounds, variously modifying folk-​ derived structures, retaining at the same time numerous instrumentation devices that both foster linguistic experimentation and clearly indicate the use of a specific folk model. 3. Th  e realism pole Futurists used stylization not only to create pastoral, lyrical and atmospheric compositions but also to render the living conditions and mentality of peasants realistically (or even naturalistically). This is the case in a relatively small group of poems by Młodożeniec, which are nevertheless unique in terms of sound. Works discussed in this section pretend to be authentic folk pieces representing untouched images from countryside life. Consider “Pogrzeb” [Funeral]: a się–​się –​ jucha się –​ 90 The example that comes closest to folk patterns is “Pastuch” by Młodożeniec, which employs repetitive verse patterns, although its structure of corresponding lines is complex and compositionally far from folk simplicity. For Author use only 420 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry patrzy się –​ ogląda się –​ a wiE –​ śtyry koła i rozwora –​ na rozworze jako–​tako trumny dwie hi–​hi–​hi–​ wiśta–​wiE tyla błota–​skąd–​ta tego –​ jak–​ta bogu się nie sprzykrzy –​ ej–​no–​matka–​dyrdul–​się –​ hi–​hi–​hi–​het’ta–​wiE ano–​ano razem wzieno –​ boski dopust–​bogu dzięka –​ o dwie gęby w izbie mni –​ hi–​hi–​hi ubabrano po kolana –​ cicho matka–​nie drzyj się –​ tam jem lepi –​ wiE–​wiE–​wiE [and it-​it – it bleeds – it looks – it turns – and knOws – four wheels and a beam – on the beam, barely two coffins tee-​hee-​hee-​giddy-​up! so much mud where’s–​it–​from – how can she not tire god – holla mother go away – tee-​hee-​hee-​gee-​giddy-​up together they were taken blow of fate –​thank god two mouths less to feed ha-ha-ha mucked up to the knees – silent mother–​do not shout – they are better off there –​ giddy-​up-​giddy-​up] (Młodoż., Up 62) For Author use only The realism pole 421 Stylization is very consistent in this poem, covering the subject, the setting and language.91 The text has a highly distinct sound dimension, featuring elements typ­ ical of folk poetry: – repetitions of enclitics (repetition of “się” in the first lines), – interjections (“ej–​no” [holla]), – refrain-​like interjections-​imperatives (“wiśta–​wiE” [hee-​hee-​hee-​giddy-​up]; “het’ta wiE” [tee-​hee-​hee-​gee-​giddy-​up]). Regardless, orchestration only partially corresponds to the phonostylistic character of folk literature. The poem by Młodożeniec was not created as an imitation of folk songs despite its characteristic use of refrain-​like repetitions (which actually match the situation as these are orders given to the horses pulling the cart). Both the radically naturalistic treatment of the subject (the funeral of two children seen from the perspective of a simple, tough peasant father) and the relatively casual form (in comparison with the aesthetics of folk songs), lacking syntactic parallelisms, regular rhymes and regular verse structures may indicate that the poem is a pure record of peasant language, resembling an ethnographic observation.92 Thus, Młodożeniec created a specific quotation from everyday peasant life,93 albeit without abandoning typical ornaments: refrain and rhyme. As a result, the text is appealing in terms of sound and craftsmanship. As analyses contained in Chapter Three show, in stylized poems sound-​based correspondences are the necessary condition of artistic character. This is confirmed by another early poem by Młodożeniec –​“Wesele” [Wedding]: Dziewiętnaście jej lat zmarniało –​ poszła –​umarła –​–​ …oj–​ta, oj–​ta, oj–​ta dana! Ojciec –​matka –​i pies się ostał –​ była jedyna –​ …oj–​ta, oj–​ta, oj–​ta dana! Słońce patrzy wesołe w okna pustej chałupy –​ …oj–​ta, oj–​ta, oj–​ta dana! 91 92 93 See Stefania Skwarczyńska, “Stylizacja i jej miejsce w nauce o literaturze,” in Stylistyka polska, eds. E. Miodońska-​Brookes, A. Kulawik, M. Tatara, Warszawa 1973, 234 ff. In reference to the poem “Pogrzeb” (among others) Czernik argues that Młodożeniec “developed a sensitive instrument for making poetic-​ethnographic records” (qtd. after Burek, “Sztandar futuryzmu,” 7; emphasis added). Folklore is defined only as the artistic, aesthetically developed kind of rural lan­ guage, clearly distinct from dialectal everyday speech (see e.g.: Aleksander Wilkoń, Typologia odmian językowych współczesnej polszczyzny, Katowice 1987, 88–​9). For Author use only 422 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry Grzędy kwiatów sadzone przez nią słońcu się śmieją –​ …oj–​ta, oj–​ta, oj–​ta dana! Ojciec –​matka –​i pies się ostał –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ Oj–​ta dana! [Her nineteen years are wasted –​ she went –​died –​–​ …dee-​dah, dee-​dah, dee-​at dah! Father –​mother –​and a dog were left –​ She was the only one –​ …dee-​dah, dee-​dah, dee-​at dah! Merry sun is looking through the windows of an empty cottage –​ …dee-​dah, dee-​dah, dee-​at dah! Rows of flowers she planted smile at the sun –​ …dee-​dah, dee-​dah, dee-​at dah! Father –​mother –​and a dog were left –​ –​ –​ –​ –​ Dee-​at dah!] (Młodoż., Up 170)94 The poet combined par excellence folk refrains based on repetition of several syllables with a plainly sketched story about the death of a young girl, narrated without dialectal stylization. The persistent refrain causes the poem to appear to be stylized, but in fact it is not. Sonic distinctiveness is meant to emphasize, through feigned authenticity, the peasant character of presented scenes, mechanically making the poem resemble a folk song divided into stanzas.95 Still, the interjection “oj–​ta, oj–​ta, oj–​ta dana” is the only gesture –​apart from the topic itself –​that indicates stylization. Młodożeniec did not introduce elements typical of folklore: perfect rhymes, repetitions and parallelisms. Instead, he employed one of the simplest and sonically distinct characteristics of folk poetry in order to authenticate the presented lyrical situation. Associations brought by the folk refrain were supposedly meant to define the entire poem. Texts written by Młodożeniec confirm that compositions seen as rooted in folklore establish a connection between word and sound through frequent, almost 94 95 From the volume Futuro-​gamy i futuro-​pejzaże (1933, dated 1934), originally prin­ ted in Formiści 4 (1921) (qtd. after Burek, “Przypisy,” 506). It seems aimless to seek in this simple literary work (though it contains unrefined metaphors of non-​folk origin) references to the most archaic (almost forgotten), ritual, par excellence refrain-​like and rhymeless folk songs. Cf. notes 37 and 45. For Author use only Stylization and poetic journalism 423 obsessive phonic correspondences. This should not be surprising because the constitutive elements of folk literature (enumerated at the beginning of this chapter) are closely tied with the development of the poem’s sound texture. The semantic dimension or dialectal textual elements do not suffice to create poems that could be regarded as approximating the style of folk pieces. What seems sufficient, however, is the kind of encrustation that employs only some elements characteristic for peasant poetry. Moreover, sound correspondences play a significant role even in those texts that render actual rural speech, creating –​as in the case of “Pogrzeb” –​ a sense of folk artistry, or of folklore’s ornamental simplicity. Thus, the instrumentation that enriches the texts is an indispensable element even in those poems that describe, sometimes almost naturalistically, countryside life and mentality. 4. S  tylization and poetic journalism Ways of introducing folkloristic stylization as well as its function often change depending on the text’s overall message. In works considered so far, saturation with sound was –​within a single poem –​relatively homogenous. Derived from folk poetry and usually supplemented with other techniques, instrumentation devices are consistently woven into these texts, although without special valorization of any parts of the composition. However, the situation changes when texts perform a certain journalistic function, i.e. when they do not merely aim to develop a sentimental or naturalistic relation with the folk character, but also gesture towards specific social or even socio-​political goals. In texts verging on poetic journalism (or displaying some of its elements), references to folklore function entirely differently than in pieces marked by lyrical-​sentimental stylization or in poems approaching realism. In Polish Futurism there are not many examples of engaged poetry. These would be limited only to works by Młodożeniec and Jasieński. To begin with, it seems appropriate to analyse the clear sound stylization in the former’s onomatopoeically titled poem “Zgrzyt” [Creak]: dzieckowiny przystaniĘte pod oknami stały… stały i przez okna zaglądały –​ gdzie tam ludzie tańcowały –​ bogate gdzie tam ludzie jadły piły –​ brzuchate… ot –​dziećcyny, dzieckowiny… ale okna zamarzały –​ nic już dziecka nie widziały a słuchały –​ jak muzyki grały grały… Ot –​dziećcyny, dzieckowiny –​ For Author use only 424 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry Oj–​ty mrozie neu–​trali–​styczny –​ Oj–​ty głodzie filan–​tropi–​lijny –​ kulturalny –​ chrześci–​jański ach–​to raut ten–​robiący dobre panie… Ot –​dziećcyny, dzieckowiny –​ stójta przystanięte, prośta Boga za nie by się nie zmęczyły w tańcu by ich brzuch nie bolał z przejedzenia… Ot –​dziećcyny, dzieckowiny… [children stoppEd at the windows standing… standing looking inside through them –​ where people were dancing –​ rich people people eating and drinking –​ with large bellies… just little children… but the windows were freezing –​ and the children would not see anything anymore to the musicians playing… Just children, little children –​ Oh-​you the neu-​tra-​listic frost –​ Oh-​you the phi-​lan-​tropilic hunger –​ cultured –​ Chris-​tian Ah! the banquet–​making good ladies Just little children –​ stand standing, ask God in their name so that they do not become tired while dancing so that they do not feel sick from overeating Just children, little children…] (Młodoż., Up 61) The first section of this tripartite text (the first thirteen lines) clearly alludes to folk literature, the middle one contains elements from other conventions, while the third one (from the penultimate refrain “ot –​dziećcyny, dzieckowiny” [dialectal: just –​ children, little children]) offers a folklorized, bitter summary of the described scene. This tripartite structure is reflected both in the poem’s meaning and sound. The first part of the poem abounds in elements typical of folk songs: anaphora, post-​anaphoric syntactic parallelism (“gdzie tam ludzie”), tautological repetitions (e.g. “stały stały,” “grały grały”) and specific, almost tautological diminutives (“dziećcyny,” “dzieckowiny”). The clear etymological figure based on the root “dziec” [child] (“dziećcyny,” “dzieckowiny,” “dziecka”) and simple grammatical rhymes make this part of the text seem more phonically distinct (although it is by far not as regular as a folk song) and entirely subjected to the writer’s For Author use only Stylization and poetic journalism 425 stylizing aims. The image of children watching a charity ball through the window is presented using linguistic means that appear to be plausibly of peasant origin. Phonic distinctiveness corresponds to the emerging vision, reflecting and lending credibility to the described situation. Although the passage that begins with the characteristically folkloristic interjection “oj” consistently uses dialectal inflection, it actually belongs to salon-​ like discourse featuring adjectives completely at odds with the nouns they describe: “neutralistyczny” [neutralistic], “filantropilijny” [philanthropic]. Perhaps the distortion of these words is supposed to illustrate the gap between the revellers and the peasant children who would not understand these lexemes. Perhaps their aim is to demonstrate that the snobbish philanthropists are actually embarrassingly poorly educated. This part of the poem sounds entirely different. Although it contains one alliterating line “ach–​to raut ten–​robiący dobre panie,” the entire section is not distinct in terms of sound. The clearest indication of a phonostylistic shift is the very difficulty with articulating the refined phrases, which evidently distinguishes this passage from the more fluent first part of the text comprised of simple word clusters. Finally, we may discern a literary allusion unrelated to folk structures, i.e. a reference to the positivist short story “Dobra pani” [The good lady] by Eliza Orzeszkowa. The third part of the poem is characterized by rather “careless” stylization. Folkloristic associations are sustained only through continued use of dialectal inflection (e.g. the dual “stójta” [stand standing], “prośta” [ask]) and tautologies (“stójta przystanięte”). Apart from these elements, however, neither the lexical dimension (e.g. “przejedzenie” –​a word certainly not of folk origin) nor the uncharacteristic sound dimension (except for the refrain-​like ending) are in fact related to folk tradition. This part of the text reveals its ironic character primarily by contrasting dialectal elements with general words and by entirely rejecting repetitions and parallelism-​based folk structures. Lesław Tatarowski argues: Folk literature, which basically uses two points of view –​internal and external –​also employs their combinations. Apart from literary narrators … we encounter structures that feign an ethnographic perspective … or socio-​psychological observation … This kind of an external, artistic, or quasi-​scientific view of the countryside supplements the peasant perspective. Sometimes there is only intratextual orientation stylized to resemble folk storytelling …, but it is also possible to encounter two-​voiced structures that use free indirect speech to unite the words of the narrator and those of the peasant protagonist … or to integrate, using quotation-​like style, the account of the main narrator and enunciations of the folk protagonist-​storyteller.96 Although Tatarowski analyses the use of narrative perspective in prose, his conclusions can be adapted to poetry. One can recognize that the lyrical subject of “Zgrzyt” belongs, as it were, to three worlds, or is at least capable of stylistically 96 Lesław Tatarowski, “Ludowość w kulturze Młodej Polski. Teksty, znaczenia, wartości,” in Kultura, literatura, folklor, eds. M. Graszewicz, J. Kolbuszewski, Warszawa 1988, 284–​5. For Author use only 426 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry modulating the enunciation in three ways. Children standing by the window are described using a regional language that uses some structures of folk songs. The ball is characterized using the distorted language of urban philanthropists. Finally, ironic conclusions are delivered with a simple, disillusioned tone without any attempts to make the message sound more artistic. Thus, in this poem sound distinctiveness is not merely ornamental or sentimental but is also related to vital semantic components. Amplified stylization and the different frequency of folk elements in individual parts of the poem are reflected in its phonic dimension, which also explains nuances of textual situation and possibly diverse reception of subsequent parts of the poem. The message of such clear stylistic gradation is to a large extent journalistic in character, making “Zgrzyt” beyond doubt an engaged text. It poses a much greater difficulty to analyse the multi-​dimensional long poem Słowo o Jakubie Szeli [The tale of Jakub Szela] by Bruno Jasieński. This work should be regarded not only from the perspective of references to folk literature, but also in the context of the historical facts on which the story is based (the peasant revolt of 1846, led by Szela). Apart from clear allusions to folklore one can identify numerous references to twentieth-​century high literature (e.g. texts by Mayakovsky, Burluk, Kamensky)97 and themes derived from fairy tales or myths.98 Little wonder then that the folk character functions in this work rather as an extended quotation, constituting the basis for stylization, which is deployed with varying intensity in many though not all parts of the text. Illustration 13. Cover of Słowo o Jakubie Szeli [The tale of Jakub Szela] by Bruno Jasieński (cover design by Zygmunt Waliszewski), Paris 1926. 97 98 See the commentary by Balcerzan in Jas., Upms 109, 123–​5, 144–​5. See Balcerzan, “Wstęp,” Jas., Upms, lxviii; Rawiński, “ ‘Słowo o Jakubie Szeli’,” 107–​9. For Author use only Stylization and poetic journalism 427 These two linguistic conventions converge in Słowo, in which we observe the interweaving of passages marked by deep stylization (imitating folk songs and speech99) and ones –​often strongly metaphorical –​that employ folk themes but not structures, thus actually representing high literature. In this poem, instrumentation is a vital factor in both kinds of poetic language (folk and high), but it manifests differently and performs different functions. Notably, in the original printing100 parts of the text that feature different phonostylistics, themes, or moods were made visually distinct, with new elements appearing on separate pages or surrounded with line spacing. Furthermore, changes in mood often result from changes in line length as Jasieński employs both a lively and dynamic six-​, seven-​, or eight-​syllable metre, as well as longer, more lengthy metres. This verse structure is also reflected in irregular instrumentation. Analysis can start with representative passages in which folk structures are not distorted by patterns from different orders. In the following quatrains, the first three describe a conversation between instruments and the bride:101 Maryna, Maryna, czy ci to nie lubo, że ci gram w taki kram, że ci grram tak grrrubo. [Maryna, Maryna, is it not nice to you, that I play in this mess that I play so deep.] (Jas., Upms 106) Weź se, Maryś, czepek nasadź, jak nie chciałaś gęsi pasać, jak nie chciałaś statków myć –​ idźże za mąż, idźże, idź! [Maryś, put your bonnet on, if you do not want to graze geese if you do not want to wash dishes–​ go and get married, go now!] (Jas., Upms 107) 99 100 101 Borrowings from folk songs and picaresque have been successfully traced in Jasieński’s works by Rawiński (“ ‘Słowo o Jakubie Szeli’,” 86–​108). However, their extensive discussion is unnecessary in this study. Bruno Jasieński, Słowo o Jakóbie Szeli, Paris 1926 [pages unnumbered]. Conversations by instruments are discussed on pp. 293–296. For Author use only 428 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry Taki baran, jaka owca –​ chciałaś wdowca, idź za wdowca. Taki ogier, jaka klacz –​ Wprzódyś chciała –​teraz płacz! [Like the sheep, like the ram –​ If you want a widower, marry a widower. Like the mare, like the stallion –​ You wanted this first –​now cry!] (Jas., Upms 107) U karasia kare skrzela, u szczupaka –​siwe. Nie udało ci się, Szela, to kochanie ckliwe. [Crucians have black gills, and pikes have grey. You failed, Szela, at this tender loving.] (Jas., Upms 112) Apart from inconsistent dialectal stylization, the quoted stanzas feature elements typical of folk songs: anaphora, syntactic parallelisms,102 logical and formal parallelisms, interjections, synonymic and lexical repetitions as well as comparisons.103 All quatrains follow a regular syllabic pattern, which brings them closer to structures of folk literature. Moreover, let us notice signals of enriching typically folk structures, or traces of modern interventions in a text that otherwise pretends to be authentically folkloristic. For example, Jasieński prolongs the rolling “r” in the first stanza (this sound can actually have prolonged articulation). The visual signal also additionally valorizes the already rich sound texture of this stanza. As quotations show, folklorization, emphasized through sound, manifests in those parts of the poem that present situations often invoked in folk songs –​ones related to love, marriage and infidelity. Is it the case that folk structures are used only to convey basic, emotional meanings? Is folklore unidimensional in this work? Let us analyse further passages: Trzepotał, klekotał kary kur na grzędzie: Nie zmawiajta wy się, chłopy, nic z tego nie będzie! 102 103 See Rawiński, “ ‘Słowo o Jakubie Szeli’,” 99. See Rawiński, “ ‘Słowo o Jakubie Szeli’,” 117–​8. For Author use only Stylization and poetic journalism 429 [Flapping, clattering a black rooster on a perch: do not plot, boys, nothing will come out of it!] (Jas., Upms 119) Oj, ni ma to chłopu, ni ma, jak pańszczyzna, –​ żyje sobie wesół, drugim się nie przyzna. [For a peasant there is nothing, Nothing like serfdom, –​ he lives happily but won’t admit this to another.] (Jas., Upms 117) The above quatrains contain characteristically folkloristic features: synonyms (“trzepotał, klekotał” [flapping, clattering]), syntactic parallelisms, repetitions, interjections and anaphora. Markedly different from passages praising the love of Szela (primarily in semantic terms), these stanzas describe the realities of peasant life, complaining about hardships and indicating the course of action in the poem’s story.104 Thus, they do not convey only the simplest and the most emotive meanings. Moreover, the stanza “[Oj, ni ma to…]” is ironic,105 which would seem to confirm the differences between Jasieński’s composition and folk literature. However, this is not the case. Irony –​sperhaps less scathing yet similarly open –​would appear also in folklore, as demonstrated in the following lines from three texts: “Biją na zabicie” [They strike until dead], “Wesele biednej panny” [Wedding of a poor bride] and “Wesele biednego Jasia” [Wedding of the poor Jasio]: Oj dobry nasz pan, dobry, kieby małe dziecię, oj ale jego słudzy biją na zabicie.106 [Oh, our master is good and kind like a small child, 104 105 106 Rawiński claims that “forcing … the narrative form [of the poem] into a stylized framework of a Polish folk song” is an example of clear “exoticization.” “The exoticism of Słowo thus primarily entails calling on the moral authority of ‘wieść gminna’ [the community] to testify about the multi-​faceted truth of Szela (in biographical, historical, historiosophic and political terms) revealed in Jasieński’s work” (“ ‘Słowo o Jakubie Szeli’,” 84). See Rawiński, “ ‘Słowo o Jakubie Szeli’,” 101–​2. Czernik, Poezja chłopów polskich, 67; see also 61–​111. For Author use only 430 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry but his servants strike until dead.] Komara na rosół, muchę na polewkę, będziesz miała sławę, żeś wydała dziewkę.107 [A gnat for a broth, A fly for a soup, you will be famous, for bearing a girl.] Oj, zaprzęgaj gąsiora, da i gąskę siodłatą, oj pojedziesz, pojedziesz da po żonę bogatą.108 [Harness the gander, saddle the goose, you will ride and ride for a rich wife.] Jasieński utilizes the ironic potential present in the folk tradition. In order to lend depth to the characters’ story, Jasieński does not have to look beyond techniques known to folk literature. The poet also references the poetics of the absurd, which appears in folk pieces.109 One example of this could be the passage –​folkloristically distinct in terms of sound –​that describes peasant rebellion as a mad dance of chambers and a windmill:110 Jak dojrzały izby w polu samych brzdący podkasały kiecki –​ściany po śniegu lecący. Przegonił je wiatrak, w dyrdy biegł przez odłóg, 107 108 109 110 Qtd. after Czernik, Poezja chłopów polskich, 190. Qtd. after Czernik, Poezja chłopów polskich, 190. Cf. the folk texts quoted in fn. 256 in Chapter Three. See also Czernik, Poezja chłopów polskich, 205–​6. The dance of chambers and windmill is announced in stanzas clearly referring to well-​known folk pieces (cf. e.g. “Kusy Jan,” quoted in 259 in Chapter Three). The chambers saw peasants conspiring against their masters. One of them, much like Jan from the popular folk text, “would wield an axe and lean on a scythe” (“siekierką się opasywał, podpierał się kosą;” Jas., Upms 140). For Author use only Stylization and poetic journalism 431 ruszył w taniec opętaniec, poszły wióry z podłóg. * Tańcowali cztery dni, ani więcéj, ani mniéj. Tańcowali piątą noc –​ runął dwór jak zgniły kloc. Tańcowali rach-​ciach-​ciach i po drogach, i po wsiach. Tańcowali, gdzie kto mógł. Tryskał, pryskał śnieg spod nóg. [When the chambers saw toddlers in the field [young peasant rebels] they tucked up their skirts –​the walls and flew through the snow. The windmill chased them away, running through fallow land, it started a mad dance, wood chips coming from the floor. * They danced for four days, Not more not less. As they were dancing the fifth night –​ the manor house fell like a rotten log. They danced one-​two-​three In the roads and in the villages. They danced wherever they could. Snow spraying and spurting from beneath their feet.] (Jas., Upms 140–​1) The key scene in the poem is described in a folk manner, with sound devices organizing the text: anaphora, rhymes (also internal ones), syntactic parallelisms and synonymic repetitions. The story relating crucial events is delivered by a folk narrator who perfectly carries out this task.111 As a result, readers can easily identify the metaphor and connect the mad dance with the peasant revolt. The approach adopted by Jasieński certainly does not involve using folklore as a reservoir of 111 See Zaworska, O nową sztukę, 233. For Author use only 432 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry simplicity, primitivism and schematism. Thus, it is not deployed in Słowo merely as an indicator of folk atmosphericity or pastoral character. As Kazimierz Moszyński argues, the subject of folk literary creativity … is people and therefore human affects (primarily love and amorous longing in lyrical songs), marriage and the lot of those who have been married off (e.g. in wedding songs), various mischances, e.g. loss of innocence by girls, marital infidelity, or murder (especially in ballad-​like songs), heroic accomplishments of young swashbucklers, their fights and adventures (in epic songs, fairy tales, etc.).112 In a single work, Jasieński follows almost all the thematic paths identified by Moszyński as folk in character, without presenting any “flimsy contents” or “simple cases”113 as is often the case in some folk songs. He rather offers multidimensional stories of a distinctly journalistic character, which realize the potential inherent in the folk tradition. According to Małgorzata Baranowska, fear of symbolism made them [the Futurists] turn towards “non-​symbolist” poetic sources. Thus, they were lured into a trap not unlike the one that the Romantics fell into. It seems that the Futurists regarded folk poetry as deprived of the metaphoric or symbolic dimension. At least initially, when Stern and Jasieński began to write, it was supposed to be the simplest kind of poetry, which is a blatant mistake and one of the foundling-​ideas inherited from Polish modernism [Young Poland]. … Folk poetry or, say, Eastern art are the best examples of ossified patchworks of conventions that are thoroughly symbolist in character.114 Although folk literature or unspecified Eastern poetry can be described using a fairly uncomplicated set of rules, calling it an “ossified patchwork of conventions” is a clear overstatement. Undoubtedly, Jasieński was not lured into any literary trap. Folklore in Słowo is certainly not synonymous with “the simplest poetry in the world.”115 Nor does it function as a symbolist springboard for existentialist reflection. The poet uses folk compositional patterns reflected in the poem’s sound 112 113 114 115 Moszyński, Kultura ludowa Słowian, 653. Bystroń identifies the story-​based criterion of folk songs to consist in a primitive concept that manifests in “thin content” and simplicity of events, among which he lists: murder, seduction, revenge and the death of lovers. Simplicity would be connected with schematic representation of these “materially significant” events (Jan S. Bystroń, Polska pieśń ludowa, Kraków [n.d.], 7). Baranowska, “Prymitywizm prowokowany,” 233. This could only be the Dadaist-​like use of “primitivized,” “imagined folklore” (cf. “Romans Peru” by Stern, 298 ff). In this piece, affiliations with local folklore would only be signalled (cf. the first meaning of “primitivism”). Baranowska mentions Jasieński’s early poetry, and it is difficult to assess whether she would include Słowo o Jakubie Szeli in this category (from the perspective of Futurism it is late, but it is not necessarily so from the angle of the poet’s entire oeuvre; what is more, in his earlier works references to folklore were only incidental, e.g. in “Miasto. For Author use only Stylization and poetic journalism 433 texture in order to signal the most important emotional and material problems of his characters. We certainly do not deal here with unreflective repetition of petrified schemata. Jasieński utilizes various possibilities inherent in folk poetry: both sentimental tones and structural dynamism; almost all of the consistently stylized lines have the characteristically folkloristic length of six, seven, or eight syllables and are arranged in rhyming couplets. He employs the poetics of the absurd, supplementing stylization imitative of simple peasant speech with stanzas based on irrational juxtaposition of poetic images, as encountered in folk literature. The folkloristic passages employ metaphor, high-​order irony and aptly forged folk instrumentation. The situation changes when folklore mixes with high speech or when the latter begins to dominate in the poem. Two ways of transcending folk conventions emerge at that point: – preservation of dynamism typical of folk pieces, accompanied by concretization (through plot development) and often elaborate, non-​folkloristic valorization of sound; – rejection of tangible particularity and frequently of dynamism, accompanied by the development of a symbolist atmosphericity that regularly draws on themes derived from folklore. The very change of the poem’s key and the move from folk to high speech (and vice-​versa) often affects meaning and invariably influences the sound dimension. This is well illustrated by a passage from Słowo, in which the poet takes folk patterns as his point of departure, gradually overcoming them in terms of meaning and form. In a poem that refers, on the one hand, to beggar songs and on the other to Mayakovsky’s poem 150 000 000116 the description of Lviv comprises a crossroads in which two styles meet: folk poetry and high literature. One of the quatrains that open this urban sketch is: W mieście Lwowie, w białem mieście w każdym domu okien dwieście, w każdem domu jasna pani, szyta złotem suknia na niej. [In the city of Lviv, a white city there are two hundred windows in every house, a bright lady in every house, wearing a golden gown.] (Jas., Upms 124–​5)117 116 117 Syntezja;” cf. p. 105 ff). It seems that the folkloristic “misunderstanding” described by the scholar is not related to Jasieński. See the commentary by Balcerzan in Jas., Upms 123. Due to questions of instrumentation, the quotation restores forms “białem” and “każdem,” which are not preserved in the reprinted version and were inconsistently used even in the original printing. For Author use only 434 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry After two more stanzas alluding to folk structures, subsequent ones have a different form: Z ulic naród płynie ciurkiem, stoi żandarm z kurzym piórkiem –​ którzy w takt nie chodzą też tu, takich bierze do aresztu. [The nation is flowing from the streets, a military policeman is standing with a chicken’s feather –​ those who do not walk in time, are arrested.] (Jas., Upms 125; emphasis added) Pod kościołem, nikiej na wsi, siedzą dziady jeszcze łzawsi, z szmat im żebro lśni na żebrze, każdy siedzi, każdy żebrze. [By a church, like in a village, beggars sit, tearful, their ribs shining through rags, all sitting, all begging.] (Jas., Upms 126) W mieście Lwowie domy różne, z wierzchu szklane, w środku próżne, spod nich wędlin całe mendle, jak spod kloszów patrzą zwiędle. [In the city of Lviv there are different houses, glass on the outside, empty inside, from beneath them, heaps of cold cuts are looking, withered, like from glass domes.] (Jas., Upms 126) The first, naively hyperbolic118 stanza is based on consistently applied, typically folkloristic anaphora and post-​ anaphoric parallelisms. It would seem that it 118 See Helena Kapełuś, “Pieśń dziadowska,” in Słownik rodzajów i gatunków literackich, eds. G. Gazda, S. Tynecka-​Makowska, Kraków 2006, 532–​5. Rawiński argues that “the filigree, shiny and gilding-​rich fairy-​tale-​like beauty of Lviv perfectly fits naive folk imagination. The above description is close to admirations of manors and their inhabitants in conventionalized folk songs: ‘golden manor,’ ‘white tenement house,’ ‘diamond gates,’ ‘golden keys,’ ‘waxed floors,’ ‘lady in gold,’ ‘cloth of gold,’ ‘velvet,’ ‘angel-​like young lady.’ These elements can be found in songs traditionally sung by groups of peasants before the manor” (Rawiński, “ ‘Słowo For Author use only Stylization and poetic journalism 435 should be followed by an equally naive description as it abounds in direct praise. However, subsequent quatrains surprise with their semantics and phonostylistics. Syllabic lines tied with rhymes preserve dynamism, which is accompanied by a non-​folkloristic valorization of sound. In the stanza beginning with “Z ulic” there are actually no traces of folk character. Earnest admiration (which begins to sound ironic from this perspective) is replaced with irony and grotesque. Alliteration acts as the basic device, although it is not rooted in repetitions typical of folklore. In another quatrain cited above, the mixing of styles is indicated by the homophonic juxtaposition of the word “żebrze” [begs/​rib] since pseudo-etymological figures are rare in folk pieces. The next stanza is also based on play with sound: in place of obviously folkloristic harmonies based on the mono-​rootedness of words there emerges a sophisticated pseudo-​etymological figure (additionally emphasized by the rhyming position of its constituent parts) “wędlin” [cold cuts] –​ “mendle” [heaps] –​“zwiędle” [withered]. Another aspect that proves important is literary allusion, which is alien to folk literature; in this case, a reference to Stefan Żeromski’s glass houses from his novel Przedwiośnie [Early spring]. The first quatrain suggests naive admiration, yet subsequent ones are clearly ironic in descriptions of the “beautiful city.” In this picaresque-​like text (“rybałtowsko-​ sowizdrzalski”)119 changes of meaning are accompanied by shifts in the develop­ ment of the poem’s play with sounds. Other stanzas of Słowo that abandon the folk convention include the following: Oj, niejeden marnie zmarł już, z kim miał złość pan mandatariusz. … Jak się kubek ciszy przelał, wstał spod ściany Jakub Szela. Zwalił z ramion słowo-​sąg. Poszły pręgi w kręgi w krąg [O, many have died miserably, when officers became cross with them. … When the cup of silence spilled over, Jakub Szela rose from the corner. 119 o Jakubie Szeli’,” 104). Rawiński also indicates the similarity between the stanza “[W mieście Lwowie, w białym mieście…]” and the carol sung in Nowe Miasto Korczyn (another version is quoted on p. 402 as an example of folk concatenation). Rawiński, “ ‘Słowo o Jakubie Szeli’,” 107. For Author use only 436 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry He dropped a heap of word-​wood from his arms. Marks left around in circles] (Jas., Upms 121) Apart from unconventional metaphors (e.g. the “cup of silence” spilling over), the non-​folkloristic origin of these passages reveals specific sound structures: the sophisticated paronomasia “marnie zmarł” [died miserably] (impossible to classify as a folkloristic, tautological etymological figure) and two-​part metaphor –​alien to folklore but close to Marinetti’s poetics –​comprised by two alliterating nouns in the nominative case (“słowo-​sąg” [word-​wood]).120 The intricate structure “poszły pręgi w kręgi w krąg” [marks left around in circles] –​based on alliteration and polyptoton –​is reminiscent of folkloristic repetition but is more complex in syntactic terms and more elaborate.121 Another intriguing case of transcending folk conventions is offered by the masterful and dynamic passage that describes a manor house consumed by fire, featuring entirely un-​folk-​like rhymes that involve the use of compound rhyme, alliteration, anaphora and repetition: Co tknął piórkiem pułapu, trzaskał pułap pół na pół. Co nadłupał go tak tu, przyśpiewywał do taktu [As it [fire] touched the ceiling with a feather, cracked the ceiling in half. Whenever it chipped off a part, it would sing to the beat] (Jas., Upms 144) Another aurally refined stanza, which belongs among the most dynamic and semantically condensed122 passages written by Jasieński, reads: 120 121 122 According to Marinetti, “[e]‌very noun must have its double, which is to say, every noun must be immediately followed by another noun, with no conjunction between them, to which it is related by analogy. Example: man –​torpedo boat” (F. T. Marinetti, “Technical Manifesto of Futurist Literature (May 11, 1912),” in Selected Writings, ed. R. W. Flint, trans. R. W. Flint, London 1972, 84–​5). This passage from Słowo seems particularly close to the well-​known folk song “Kamień na kamieniu” (see Przyboś, Jabłoneczka, 301). As Balcerzan argues, this stanza is a “an apt demonstration of the Futurist pos­ tulate regarding telegraphic terseness. ‘Summary’ of this quatrain: a nobleman is freezing in the snow after escaping from insurrectionists; he is bleeding from his mouth, which looks like the ace of hearts; there is snow over trees (or over a wooden building), which looks like sparks; burning manors are reflected in them” (Balcerzan’s commentary in Jas., Upms 141). For Author use only Stylization and poetic journalism 437 Szedł śnieg. Brał mróz. Biegł zbieg. W mróz wrósł. Z ust krew –​as kier. Znad drew mgła skier. [Snow falling. Chilling cold. A fugitive was fleeing. He was rooted to the spot by frost. Blood from mouth –​an ace of hearts. A mist of sparks over the wood.] (Jas., Upms 141) This passage provides a rare example of using spondee –​a metric foot that is very difficult to handle in the Polish system of prosody. Metric distinctiveness is combined here with intricate instrumentation. Rhymes involve not only line endings but also endings of words directly preceding clearly marked caesura (“śnieg” –​“zbieg;” “krew” –​“drew”). Moreover, the first line features internal assonance emphasized by repetition of sounds from the same articulatory sequence (“szedł śnieg”) and distinct alliteration based on the expressive rolling “r”123 (“brał mróz”). The phrase “biegł zbieg” from the next line is in turn an example of an etymological figure that introduces a partial internal rhyme; the homophonic phrase (with no etymological interconnections) “w mróz wrósł” has similar rhyming consequences. The next line reveals deep inverted alliteration combined with assonance (“kier” –​“krew”). Moreover, the sounds that comprise the phrase “as kier” reappear –​in the same sequence yet woven into different words –​in the last line (“mgła skier”). The final two lines are additionally framed with initial alliteration. This distinctiveness in terms of sound and content is not connected with references to folklore but becomes discernible in the sphere of irregular instrumentation.124 Analysis confirms that in the case of non-​symbolist transgression of folk literary conventions we deal with dynamic passages that are crucial for the development of the poem’s story and remain concrete, i.e. refer to specific situations and tangible problems. Another extreme towards which certain passages from Słowo gravitate, especially ones departing from the conventions of folk poetry, is lyrical atmosphericity. Naturally, it also characterizes some folk pieces (primarily songs), but it is then realized through structures described earlier. Works by Jasieński extraordinarily combine folk conventions and high symbolist innovation, sometimes leaning towards the avant-​garde. Still, there are stanzas that have nothing in common with folk structures. In one part the poem we read: 123 124 Cf. fn. 101 in Chapter Two. We may similarly analyse the following stanza from Słowo o Jakubie Szeli: “Był cham, giął łeb. /​Dziś sam –​cep cep! /​Z rąk front. Chcesz? –​Masz! /​Bier gront! Gront –​nasz!” [There was a lout, bending head. /​Today alone –​dolt dolt! /​Front from hands. You want? –​Here! /​Take the land! The land –​ours!] (Jas., Upms 149). For Author use only 438 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry Oj, ty, drogo, nieschodzona, daleka! Oj, ty, drogo, nieschodzona, niebliska! Cztery wierzby i olszyna-​kaleka, i na placach ciężka nieba walizka. [O, you, the untrodden, far-​away road! O, you, the untrodden, remote road! Four willows and a crippled alder, and a heavy suitcase of heaven in the squares.] (Jas., Upms 122) Aspects typical of folk poetry (interjections, syntactic parallelisms, synonymic expressions: “daleka” [far-​away] and the litotes “niebliska” [remote, literally: not near, not close]) are supplemented with a couplet derived from a different order, which concludes with an entirely un-​folk-​like metaphor “ciężka nieba walizka” [heavy suitcase of heaven]. The transition from a stylized folk song to the canon of high poetry is very clear: the first lines sound nearly identical and are completely parallel, which makes them differ strongly from the metaphorical conclusion, less distinct in terms of instrumentation. Lines that are structurally different from folk patterns present themes that brings associations with the countryside (themes encountered also in folk lyricism: willows, alders), but this does not necessarily translate into phonostylistics. In contrast to what Skwarczyńska argues,125 the­ matic allusions prove insufficient to consider this text (or couplet) as stylized. Moreover, we should analyse the most prolix –​reflective and atmospheric –​ passage from Jasieński’s long poem. It begins after a dynamic description of peasants fighting, developed in seven-​and six-​syllable lines. The static and reflective character of this part is indicated already by the visual arrangement of lines: Oj, ty, wolo, rozchełstana, strzelista, wolo wolna, wolo polna! Potoczyłaś ty się, wolo, po polu, po polepie śniegowej, w noc miałką kulą śnieżną –​ulęgałką. Rozmagałaś ty się z gręby na grębę, w cichem polu grającem, kiełbiem ozimin –​zającem. Zakręciłaś ty się bąkiem-​furkotem, spuszczonym wiatrem na złość ci ze szpagatu codzienności. 125 See Skwarczyńska, “Stylizacja i jej miejsce,” 235. For Author use only Stylization and poetic journalism 439 Rozszumiałaś ty się chlustem-​rozpluskiem, siwym roztopem z tych stron tu aż na margines horyzontu. Wyżej stert, co się w drodze nawiną, polem za wąskiem,126 za pustem, tańcem –​łomotem –​zapustem lawiną! Och, wolo!127 [O, you, will, scruffy, lofty, free will, wild will! You rolled over the field, will, over the snowy crust, on an insipid night in a snowy ball –​a wild pear. Growing stronger from hill to hill in a silent field playing the gudgeon of winter crops –​hare. You spun like a bumblebee, with a whirr, a wind released to spite you from the cord of everyday. You began humming splash-​whoosh, a grey thaw from these parts from here until the margin of horizon. Over than piles that happen along the way, a field too narrow, too empty, dance –​thud –​celebration avalanche! O, will!] Themes related to the realities of life in the countryside and lexemes derived from entirely different orders are welded together here into a single whole based on rules that are far from the distinct structures of folk songs. The complex, irregular 126 127 Spelling is not modernized in this quotation (see Jas., Upms 143) because this would weaken alliteration; thus, the form “wąskiem” is preserved here. In the original (qtd. after Jasieński, Słowo o Jakóbie Szeli), the visual arrangement is decidedly clearer than in the version reprinted in Jas., Upms 14. In the former, stair-​like triplets are separated with line spacing, which augments prolixity and atmosphericity, emphasizing the specifically unhurried character of this passage. Moreover, the reprinted version does not place the word “lawina” in a separate line, which clearly distorts the visual arrangement of the text. For Author use only 440 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry arrangement of long and very short lines is as different from folk patterns as it can be. Moreover, rhyme patterns are also dissimilar from folk clarity: there are both paired and alternating rhymes; moreover, they are not based on simple grammatical patterns, but can be sophisticated and surprising (“miałką” [insipid] –​“ulęgałką” [wild pear]) and are often compound (“złość ci” [(to) spite you]–​“codzienności” [of everyday]; “stron tu” [these parts from here] –​“horyzontu” [horizon]). Some vestigial signals indicating folk models can be identified in the dimension of irregular instrumentation, e.g. interjection (“oj”),128 lexical repetition (“wola,” “pole”), tautological etymological figure (“wolo wolna” [free will]) and concluding enumeration. However, sound patterns unrelated to folklore are much clearer: numerous alliterations, including deep ones, onomatopoeic expressions not derived from folklore (“rozszumieć się” [begin humming], “rozplusk” [whoosh]), elaborate pseudo-etymological figures (“po polu” [over the field] –​“po polepie” [over the crust]; the feigned neologism-​like figure “za pustem” [too empty] –​“zapustem” [celebration]). As a result, allusions to folklore are more clearly identifiable in the way the poem invokes countryside themes, landscapes and regionalisms rather than in any specific “folklorizing” sound devices. Thus, references to folklore primarily act as a scaffolding for lyrical confessions. The discussed passage is strongly metaphorical (“spuszczony wiatr … ze szpagatu codzienności” [a wind released … from the cord of everyday], “margines horyzontu” [the margin of horizon]) and atmospheric, constituting an example of high poetry rooted in symbolism. Its alleged folk character is merely a pretext for developing a whole series of unusual poetic images. Other sonically distinct stanzas from Słowo can be described in similar terms: Rozhuśtała już jesień tysiącem batut krzywe wierzby nad stawem w takt żabich gam. Na ostatni fałszywy czerwienny atut dzisiaj w durnia ze śmiercią gram. [The autumn is in full swing, conducted with a thousand batons swaying crooked willows over the lake to the rhythm of frog scales. Using the last, false red trump card I play war with death.] (Jas., Upms 102) Rozwichrzonych nad polem grzyw dym kapie deszczu wymieniem koziem. Gorzki smak przypalonej krzywdy ma brunatny twych grud czarnoziem. 128 The second interjection that appears here –​“och” –​practically does not appear in folk texts. For Author use only Stylization and poetic journalism 441 [From manes of smoke ruffled over the field drops of rain fall like from a goat’s udder. The bitter taste of burned harm had the dark brown colour of your black frozen earth.] (Jas., Upms 115) Cisza łubin otrząsa z łupin i w jelitach cię, Ziemio, boli. Nawarzyło się w faskach chałupin kwaśne mleko twej melancholii. [Silence shakes lupin from shells and it pains you, Earth, in the bowels. In your wooden peasant huts the sour milk of your melancholy curdles.] (Jas., Upms 116) These syllabotonic, alliterating stanzas have nothing in common with folklore. References to themes that can be associated with countryside landscapes and the everyday life of peasants do not automatically relate to folk culture, nor are they to the slightest degree quoting from this tradition. It is a highly distinct, creative continuation of the symbolist mode of developing images and sounds in poetry.129 Moreover, the style of symbolist lyricism is used here to discuss socio-​political issues (“the bitter taste of burned harm,” playing cards “with death,” the pain experienced by Earth “in the bowels”). Quoted stanzas are characterized by clear alliteration and feature semantic references to music (“scales,” “batons,” “silence”). The last stanza also contains a pseudo-​etymological figure that is alien to folk tradition –​ the parechesis “łubin” [lupin] –​“łupin” [shells], additionally juxtaposed with the paronym “chałupin” [peasant huts]. However, these harmonies are not the result of using obsessive folklorizing anaphora. They do not stem from the parallelism of lines, nor are they based on lexical repetition. Despite signalling social issues in the quoted stanzas, Jasieński does not follow conventions of folk literature, including phonostylistic ones. He uses the turn-​of-​the-​century language of high literature to discuss rural issues, present his reflections, or create specific moods. Conclusions from these analyses may appear surprising because the long poem by Jasieński discusses social issues using both structures derived from folk lyricism and ones applying a modified symbolist style. To emphasize once more, folklore is not reducible to “primitive speech” that is incapable of conveying more subtle messages. The poet utilizes patterns from folk poetry to create ironic stanzas that combine absurdity with narrative in order to develop the poem’s story. 129 We should recall the “Severyanin lesson” taken in Moscow by Jasieński and Młodożeniec. Cf. Introduction, 24; and analyses of individual poems in Chapter One, especially in sections three and four. For Author use only 442 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry Differences between specific passages in this text primarily regard its sound texture. Jasieński managed to create a poem that in many ways perfectly imitates folk literature. Frequently, however, elaborate sound devices, especially pseudo-​ etymologies and sophisticated rhymes, reveal another, non-​folkloristic pole of the enunciation; sometimes without qualitative differences in semantics with regard to folklorized parts. Finally, sometimes the text becomes a thoroughly literary, symbolist, or even a-​folkloristic form of lyrical reflection. In passages of this kind, change of convention is signalled not so much by semantics itself but by the mode of presenting content, especially sound structure. Thanks to this kind of montage of conventions the poem becomes more complex and polyphonic, appealing to different aspects of the readers’ sensitivity. It thus becomes possible to interweave particularly concrete and dynamic passages (many of which allude to folk literature) with ones that are more lyrical and atmospheric. Just like the poem “Zgrzyt” by Młodożeniec, Słowo presents the problem from various perspectives, which are clearly reflected in the text’s phonostylistics. Naturally, one can imagine similar, engaged pieces written consistently in a single convention. Still, Jasieński and Młodożeniec adopt various styles, thanks to which readers –​just like the lyrical subject –​can consider presented issues from various points of view. 5. H  umorous folklorization The last section of this chapter presents ways of using folklore phonostylistics that are more heterogeneous than the ones described above. Folk songs are often characterized by humour, frequently involving picaresque-​like light-​heartedness (advice like “booze is good for everything”),130 emphasis of comical aspects of life (especially married life) and pure nonsense.131 Humour is primarily based on semantics since configurations using conceptual sound structures are much less common.132 Futurists would variously introduce humorous elements into their poems, which to some degree reference folk art. For example, “Nimfy” by Stern is a poem that plays with sound and meaning, and we may compare it with conceptual folk enumerations.133 However, the focus in this part of study is on the use of basic compositional configurations in folk pieces –​ones typical of folk sings, as characterized above. Consider the poem “Nie wiedziała” [She did not know] by Czyżewski: 130 131 132 133 Czernik, Poezja chłopów polskich, 216–​7. Cf. folk pieces mentioned for example in fn. 256 in Chapter Three. For more on humour in folklore, see Czernik, Poezja chłopów polskich, 188–​217. We should recall texts such as folk counting-​out rhymes (e.g. “[Poszła baba po popiół…]” –​cf. p. 366) or “literówki” [letter-​poems] (“[a, be, ab…]” –​cf. p. 255, fn. 108). Cf. p. 363 ff. For Author use only Humorous folklorization On był szoferem a ona szwaczką Taką sobie szwaczką Bardzo kochała go bardzo o lala lalala lalala On jechał ulicą i trąbił tudu tudu tudu Ona na maszynie szyła Ona dla niego tylko żyła Ona bardzo kochała go bardzo O lala lalala lalala Aż raz zdradziła go przecie O nigdy nie wierzcie kobiecie Chociaż kochała go bardzo O bardzo kochała O lala lalala lalala Myślicie że się zastrzelił Zabił ją albo rywala Przecież kochała go bardzo O lala lalala lalala On śmiał się jechał ulicą i trąbił tutu tutu tutu –​–​ Ona siedziała szyła i płakała Bo go kochała, bardzo kochała O lala lala lalalala (Myślicie że szyła na zamówienie?) Szyła maleńką koszulkę Bo ona kochała a nie wiedziała Którego bardziej kochała O lala lalala lalala A teraz szyła, płakała O lala lalala lalala Bo obu bardzo kochała A nie wiedziała O lala lalala lalala [He was a chauffer she –​a seamstress A so-​so seamstress Much she loved him very much oh lala lalala lalala He was driving down the street and honking the wheels rattling She was sewing on a machine She lived only for him She much loved him very much For Author use only 443 444 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry Oh lala lalala lalala Until she cheated on him one time Oh, never trust a woman Although she loved him dearly Oh so dearly loved Oh lala lalala lalala You think he shot himself Killed her or his rival After all she loved him dearly Oh lala lalala lalala He laughed, driving down the street and honking toot-​toot toot-​toot toot-​toot She sat, sewing and crying Because she loved him dearly Oh lala lala lalala (You think she was sewing for sale?) She was sewing a tiny shirt Because she loved but did not know Whom she loved more Oh lala lalala lalala And now she was sewing, crying Oh lala lalala lalala Because she loved both But did not know Oh lala lalala lalala] Czyż., Pipd 91–​2) Folk song aesthetics proved useful to narrate a love story set against the background of a car and sewing machine rather than sycamores and nightingales. Peculiar urban folklore is sketched using means characteristic for folk culture (which also reflects the socio-​ethnographic fact about the period’s half-​ countryside-​like suburban culture). Folk stylization is introduced by elements like anaphora and post-​anaphoric syntactic parallelism (“On był szoferem a ona szwaczką” [He was a chauffer, she a seamstress]; “On jechał ulicą” [He was driving down the street] –​“Ona na maszynie szyła” [She was sewing on a machine]), banal grammatical rhymes (“kochała” [loved] –​“płakała” [cried]; “szyła” [sewed]–​ “żyła” [lived]), lexical repetition (“kochała” [loved], “nie wiedziała” [did not know], “bardzo” [very much]). However, the clearest reference to folk tradition is the persistent refrain-​like echolalia: “o lala lalala lalala,” which may surprise given that it sits right next to attributes of modern life (the aforementioned car or sewing machine). The refrain provides a specific, ironic framework for the entire story, much like the ironic tone of the authorial asides: “Myślicie że się zastrzelił /​Zabił ją albo rywala” [You think he shot himself /​Killed her or his rival] or “Myślicie że szyła na zamówienie?” [You think she was sewing for sale?]. Moreover, those For Author use only Humorous folklorization 445 features of poetics that can be identified as related to folklore may be also linked with the style of simple songs drawing from folk literature, “ballads sung by lumpenproletariat.”134 The entire poem can be also associated with cabaret. In this poem, stylization has a primarily parodistic function, offering an ironic compositional framework. The naïve, songlike character suggests to the readers that this is a wistful piece about an emotionally simple yet beautiful kind of love, well known from folk songs. However, the situation proves to be banal (as expected) yet also surprisingly tangled and slightly cynical. Contrary to Romantic patterns, the betrayed fiancé “laughed, driving down the street and honking,” while the girl “was sewing a tiny shirt” (not for sale) and “did not know.” As one can infer, she did not know which one of the “dearly loved” men is the father. As is clear then, the author employed the eternally comic mechanism that consists in contrasting incompatible aspects of form and meaning. Czyżewski introduced easily recognizable folk instrumentation (or the form of a naive song, which employs it) to sketch a love story entirely alien to folklore, namely one marked by irony and mockery. It thus becomes apparent that he was not just an apologist for the saving simplicity of non-​professional folk literature. Młodożeniec also employed folk structures in a humorous way. In the poem “Śnieg” [Snow] we read: zabieliło się –​rozszerzyło się z serca ciężar spadł UH ulżyło się. hej, hej pójdziemy, hej pobiegniemy –​ kiju –​mój kiju –​lasko ty moja –​ ŚNIEG… biały, puszysty, miękki, wilgotny –​ skrzący, jarzący, zawrotny –​ przejrzysty… takie stłumiEnie –​oszołomiEnie –​ trą trą, tramwaje… duszy nie mają?… hej –​ruszyły się, rozpędziły się zatraciły się… HEN… … chora–​m ci dusza –​czy taka płocha–​m lubię zmysłowo, namiętnie kocham –​kogo? –​śnieg? i i –​nie zimę miejską adama mickiewicza kocham… 134 Joanna Pollakówna, “Tytus Czyżewski –​formista,” in Z zagadnień plastyki polskiej w latach 1918–​1939, ed. J. Starzyński, Wrocław 1963, 264. See also Agnieszka Smaga, Formizm w poezji Tytusa Czyżewskiego, Warszawa 2010, 135. For Author use only 446 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry ho–​ho –​mistrzu adamie –​ho–​ho w białym turbanie? co?… tam dzwoneczki dyń–​dyń–​dyń tam saneczki su–​su–​su pierzcha śnieg… dorożkarska szkapa parska i z kopyta rwie… [it whitened –​and expanded a load dropped off of my heart, OH, what relief. hey, hey, we will go, hey we will run –​ stick –​my stick –​my cane –​ SNOW… white, fluffy, soft, wet –​ sparkling, gleaming, dizzying –​ clear… such stiflIng –​bewIlder –​ the trams grate and grate… have they no soul?… hey –​they moved, gathered speed lost their mind… YONDER… … I am the sick soul –​or simply flighty I adore sensuality, I love passionately –​who? –​the snow? oh oh –​nah I love adam mickiewicz’s winter in the town… ho-​ho –​master adam –​ho-​ho in a white turban? what?… there the bells ting-​a-​ling there the sledge glides-​s-​s the snow vanishes… the hack at the cab snorts and gets off like a shot…] (Młodoż., Up 52–​3) This entire text is an intertextual, allusion-​rich, humorous play with conventions. The poem combines elements of folklore and echoes of Young Poland poetics. The former include: – interjections (“hej, hej” [hey, hey]), – tautological repetitions (“hej pójdziemy, hej pobiegniemy” [hey, we will go, hey we will run]), – rhyming enumerations or even gradation of verbs (“ruszyły się, rozpędziły się, zatraciły się” [they moved, gathered speed, lost their mind]), – repetitions of enclitics (“zabieliło się” –​“rozszerzyło się” –​“ulżyło się”), – listing of words, including synonymic ones featuring grammatical rhymes (e.g. “skrzący, jarzący” [sparkling, gleaming]). For Author use only Humorous folklorization 447 Echoes of Young Poland, on the other hand, include themes and expressions like “chora dusza” [sick soul], “ciężar na sercu” [load on [my] heart], “oszołomienie” [bewilder] and “zatracić się” [lose one’s senses]. Both conventions are subverted and toppled by humour. The lyrical subject uses “folk speech” (“hej, ruszyły się” [hey, they moved]) to talk about trams, which are introduced in a surprising fashion: their appearance is preceded by the repetition of the verb (“trą trą” [grate grate]), which can be regarded in this context as an unusual proper onomatopoeia that repeats the beginning of the word “tramwaje” [trams]. Young Poland atmosphericity is in turn undercut by the ironic, colloquial “i i –​nie” [oh oh –​nah], followed by an intertextual confession of the soul, concerning a famous poem of the Polish Romanticism (Zima miejska [Winter in the town] by Adam Mickiewicz): “zimę miejską adama mickiewicza kocham” [I love adam mickiewicz’s winter in the town]. The folk-​like colloquial character (“ho–​ho mistrzu adamie –​ho-​ho” [ho-​ho –​master adam –​ho-​ho]) and simple onomatopoeias (not always rightly associated with folk tradition, as indicated earlier in this study) prevail in further parts of the text. References to folklore are just one of the poem’s many layers, which are woven together into a humorous whole. Elements derived from folk culture are aptly utilized in this heterogeneous and vital textual mosaic. Literary examples analysed in this section demonstrate that Polish Futurism would sometimes treat the folk tradition as a discursive point of reference. The described texts borrow folk structures –​elements that are par excellence sonic, which orders the poem’s aural dimension –​entering a poetic dialogue (or humorously bantering) with folk stylistics and semantics. As a result of this efforts, Futurist poems can be ironic and ludic, humorous and eclectic. Finally, to provide counterbalance to texts reproducing folk structures we may consider one passage from an ironic poem by Czyżewski titled “Dzień Matki Boskiej Zielnej (Sielanka)” [Assumption of Mary into Heaven (An Idyll)]:135 Kwiaty rozmaite kwitną w gaju, Kwiaty do sielskiego wianka, Przed obraz Matki Boskiej na ołtarzu. Jak to na wsi w chłopskim jest zwyczaju, Słowem: sielanka. ........... ..................... Huknęły dzwony na sumę… w chustki czerwone, kraciaste spódnice ubrane baby, w ciemne kabaty 135 The text is dated 1903, but it was included by Czyżewski in the volume Noc –​ Dzień. Mechaniczny instynkt elektryczny, which justifies analysing it in this study (cf. Introduction, 10). For further remarks on this poem see Pollakówna, “Tytus Czyżewski –​formista,” 248, 264 ff. For Author use only 448 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry Lub też w białe gurnice chłopy, idą –​kum pozdrawia kumę. Pełno “stafażu” na pejzaż rodzimy: I rudera kościół modrzewiowy Organów starych piszczenie I kazanie naiwne i ksiądz łysogłowy (Ksiądz stary zapewne nie doczeka zimy), Dalej chłopskie posiwiałe głowy Schylone nad książką modlącą Słowem: widok piękny, Scena na obraz swojsko rodzajowy. ........... ..................... … Od chałup śmierdzi gnojem… w sadzie pachną róże Głos muzyki leci od karczmy [Various flowers bloom in the grove, Flowers for a rustic garland, For the icon of Mary at the altar. As is the custom in the countryside, In short: a pastoral. ........... ..................... Bells boomed announcing High Mass… Women in red shawls, chequered skirts, and wearing dark vests or white coats men go –​friends greeting friends. A lot of “staffage” for a familiar landscape: A ramshackle larch church The squeaking of an old pipe organ And a naive sermon and a bald priest (the old priest may not make it till winter), Further, greying heads of peasants Poring over prayer books In short: a beautiful sight, A scene befitting a familiar genre painting. ........... ..................... … The smell of dung coming from the houses… roses fragrant in the orchard The sound of music coming from the inn] (Czyż., Pipd 93–​4) For Author use only Humorous folklorization 449 Unlike other poems discussed so far, this one does not refer, even remotely, to patterns typical of folk poetry. It lacks folklorizing repetitions, parallel structures, interjections, or echolalias. It cannot be even suspected of approaching stylization, although life in the countryside is in fact its subject. The lyrical subject describes scenes in a distanced manner, calmly assessing any pastoral elements that are often mythologized in other works (e.g. in Futurist texts discussed in the first section of this chapter and in many paintings from the turn of the century). Phrases like “sielski wianek” [rustic garland], “słowem: sielanka” [in short: a pastoral], “słowem: widok piękny” [in short: a beautiful sight] or the meta-​artistic description “pełno ‘stafażu’ na pejzaż rodzimy” [a lot of “staffage” for a familiar landscape]136 are signals of concealed irony. Other phrases that do not match any of the numerous stereotypical descriptions of the countryside include: “rudera kościół modrzewiowy” [a ramshackle larch church], “organów starych piszczenie” [squeaking of an old pipe organ], “kazanie naiwne i ksiądz łysogłowy” [a naive sermon and a bald priest] or “śmierdzi gnojem” [the smell of dung]. So far, I demonstrated that the basic indication of references to folk structures is the poetics of sound. However, in this ironic and humorous text the sound dimension is practically transparent and allusions to folk character prove superficial. It is a folklore regarded at a distance by a removed, mocking observer. Comparison of poems discussed in this chapter with this “idyll” by Czyżewski confirms that the poetics of the former is predominantly founded on references to sound configurations encountered in folk poetry. * This part of the book focuses on Czyżewski, Młodożeniec and Jasieński, but the names of Wat and Stern do not appear in this chapter for a specific reason. Both would seek primitivity understood as a-​cultural and breaking away from any ties to tradition (i.e. in the first meaning of the term primitive).137 References to Polish folklore in Stern’s works are relatively superficial (“1/​2 godźiny na źelonym bżegu”138 and, to a slightly greater extent, “Nimfy”),139 while those identified in Wat’s poems are limited to allusions invoking the ludic poetics of the absurd.140 Presented analyses demonstrate that Futurist allusions to folklore are varied. One needs to keep in mind the considerable differences between particular authors, conditioned by biographical factors, among others. Many texts by Młodożeniec and Czyżewski feature lyrical stylization that casts the folk character in naive 136 137 138 139 140 The Polish word „sztafaż“ [staffage] is misspelt to reflect dialectal pronunciation. Cf. p. 393 ff. The primitivizing poetry of both Warsaw Futurists is discussed in the context of possible “Dadaization” of this movement in Poland in the second section in Chapter Three. Cf. p. 252 ff. Cf. p. 443 ff. Cf. fn. 256 in Chapter Three. For Author use only 450 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry and sentimental terms. However, even these authors use folklore as the basis for parody and the source of not necessarily affirmative quotations. Aware of the conventionality of folklore, the Futurists were capable of making interesting use of structures derived from this tradition. Janusz Sławiński argues: In the case of the Futurists, the turn towards folklore was connected with the belief that folk poetry has preserved the kind of language they wanted to achieve as their primary goal: the kind of speech that would be inseparable from action or gesture, preserving sounds of nature and primal human emotions untainted by abstract concepts. Thus, they tried to cultivate in their poetry this alleged pre-​language rooted firmly in the world of objects. It was a failed experiment because it was based on a fundamental misunderstanding. Folk poetry is probably the most conventionalized and schematic domain. … Reaching out to these sources, as they intended, the Futurists overlooked the fact that folk literature displays natural schematism. Thus … the consequences of introducing the folk character were twofold. First, to a small extent they coincided with the intention of the Futurists under the guise of something we can metaphorically call “the peasant Dada.” Second, this entailed attempts at folk stylization, which is not far from analogous attempts, for example by Zegadłowicz.141 I cannot completely agree with the above assessment. As shown in analyses of sound patterns –​structures of fundamental significance in folklore –​relations between Polish Futurism and folk literature were varied. As indicated in the chapter on Dadaist filiations, the seeming primitivism of Stern’s phonic carnival is linked to folklore primarily through specific thematization of the folk character (e.g. lexemes “baba” and “wieś” in “1/​2 godźiny na źelonym bżegu”)142 and the use of glossolalia (which does not indicate solely local folklore). These constructions can be possibly termed “peasant Dada” (although the rural character is merely signalled in them). Other compositions suspected of “Dadaization” (e.g. “Pastorałki” by Czyżewski) have proven, upon comparison with Dadaist texts, to be surprisingly close to the folk tradition and literature. Thus, “peasant Dada” is –​as Sławiński notes –​a symbolic term that does not fully reflect the nature of diverse efforts undertaken by the Futurists.143 It is true that reference to folk culture in texts by Polish Futurists would sometimes play a function similar to the one discernible in ballads or carols by Zegładowicz, which affirm folk simplicity.144 Still, it was not the only Futurist incarnation of folk 141 142 143 144 Janusz Sławiński, “Poezje Młodożeńca,” in Przypadki poezji. Pisma wybrane, Vol. 5, ed. W. Bolecki, Kraków 2001, 111; emphasis added. Jarosiński views the poem entirely differently (his remarks are quoted towards the end of the section). Cf. the second section of Chapter Three (especially p. 252 ff). Furthermore, the structure of the poem “Nimfy,” which can be suspected of “Dada­ ization,” displays certain affinities with the arrangement of ludic, conceptualist counting-​out rhymes in folk literature. Cf. p. 366. Naturally, it would be a mistake to consider works by Zegadłowicz as a “folklo­ rizing monolith.” In this case, we may also speak of internal differentiation of For Author use only Humorous folklorization 451 tradition in poetry (apart from the potential “peasant Dada”) because there are also interesting syncretic works.145 In some cases, folklorization would only serve to set a nostalgic mood or create a specifically familiar, rustic atmosphere. Moreover, constructions borrowed from folk literature would also enrich journalistic battles (Słowo o Jakubie Szeli by Jasieński; “Zgrzyt” by Młodożeniec), lend greater credibility to the story (“Zgrzyt,” “Pogrzeb,” and “Wesele” by Młodożeniec; Słowo by Jasieński), introduce humour (“Śnieg” by Młodożeniec), provide layers of irony or parody (“Nie wiedziała” by Czyżewski), or contribute to the creation of a symbolist mood (“Żal” by Młodożeniec). As Zbigniew Jarosiński claims, in the case of the Polish Futurists, the interest in folklore was not limited to folk stylization, which is plentiful in the history of Polish poetry. They would reject the literary beauty of folklore, instead attempting to come into contact with the elemental sources of artistic expression. Folk art inspired the Futurists as a model of spontaneous poetic creativity based on an original artistic language rooted in phonetic techniques, onomatopoeia and alogical parallelism. At the same time, folk art would be a model of art united with down-​to-​ earth aspects of life: the ordinariness of everyday rural existence, human biology, or the sensitivity-​shaping experience of the landscape. Nevertheless, they would supplement this with the modern practice of shattering conventions and developing self-​ conscious forms, thus achieving a specific aesthetics of disharmony open to modern contents.146 As shown in analyses of folklorizing Futurist works, the literary beauty of folklore was not always rejected. Certain passages from Jasieński’s Słowo o Jakubie Szeli or Czyżewski’s “De profundis” could even pass as high-​quality authentic folk pieces. Moreover, allusions to folk character would not always praise “the ordinariness of everyday rural existence” (“Zgrzyt” by Młodożeniec; “Nie wiedziała” by Czyżewski). Still, texts identified as relying on stylization references to folklore usually feature elaborate sound structures as their indispensable element. Curiously, it is typically the case that these structures manifest in the form of irregular instrumentation (with poets mostly rejecting the clarity of syllabic verse). Studying the sound structure of poems by Polish Futurists proves that –​as Jarosiński argues –​in many works (especially those described in sections three to five) the various forms of playing with folk style led to the emergence of specific “aesthetics of disharmony open to modern contents.” Different strategies 145 146 poetry that references folklore, but it seems smaller than in the case of the Futurist heritage (see Irena Maciejewska, “ ‘Gwiaździsta księga wszechświata’ Emila Zegadłowicza,” in Emil Zegadłowicz, Wybór poezji, ed. I. Maciejewska, Warszawa 1987, 12–​19; Gazda, Futuryzm w Polsce, 115). See Balbus, “Stylizacja i zjawiska pokrewne,” 161–​3. Zbigniew Jarosiński, “Futuryzm,” in Słownik literatury polskiej XX wieku, eds. A. Brodzka et al., Wrocław 1992, 319–​20. For Author use only 452 Strategies of folklorization in Futurist poetry of Futurist folklorization show that the interwar writers discussed in this study would consciously and in a modern manner experiment with poetic language, literary tradition and perspectives of describing the world.147 References to the most conventionalized literary current do not demonstrate the conservative character of poems by Czyżewski, Młodożeniec and Jasieński. On the contrary, their fascination with folklore did not make them epigones or simple continuators of folk literature. It was rather the basis for an intertextual and sometimes markedly ludic playfulness, or for variously supplemented texts reconstructing rural life. Even in the case of poems mythologizing the folk character (cf. the second section) we do not deal with simple recreation of principles governing folk poetry.148 Analyses confirm that Futurists would pay great attention to recreating the sonic dimension of folk literature. Works like “Pogrzeb” and “Wesele” were written without taking into account the many hallmarks of folk literature, but they could not do without at least an echolalic refrain, authenticating the textual situation due to specific instrumentation. Young Poland’s fascination with rural culture was to a large extent an imitation of, and a fashionable literary forgery of folklore. Futurism greatly expanded the spectrum of folkloristic references and transformations. Reaching out towards folklore was a way of seeking other, novel artistic modes, not necessarily straightforwardly aesthetic. These endeavours can be traced at the level of instrumentation in poems by Młodożeniec, Czyżewski and Jasieński. Disregarding analyses of phonostylistics in folklorizing Futurist texts would make it very difficult to provide a coherent account of the movement’s strategies of referencing folklore, which proved so vital for this kind of poetry. Accordingly, sound proves to be an important and perhaps even fundamental dimension of these references. 147 148 See Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Modernizm w literaturze polskiej XX wieku (rekone­ sans),” Teksty Drugie 4 (2002), 22–​4. In this way, some Young Poland works were derivative, although they were not numerous. Cf. the first section of Chapter One. For Author use only Conclusion 1. F  uturist poetics of sound Polish Futurism either developed or adopted a broad range of variously deployed sound-​based techniques. Regardless of differences among individual representatives, Futurists would devote particular attention to the sonic dimension of their works, opening a true factory of sounds. The phonic aspect of literature was never foregrounded to such an extent before in Poland, nor has any single artistic formation implemented a similarly wide array of such devices. Although the Futurist sonic factory operated for merely several years, it went down in the history of literature as a phonostylistic prototyping centre, as discussed in greater detail below. From the perspective of sonic experimentation, Futurism constituted in Poland the “avant-​garde of all avant-​gardes.”1 It accumulated various phonic devices, both traditional and innovative, many of which also surfaced –​although more incidentally –​in works by other interwar writers. Moreover, adopting a reverse perspective, it would be difficult to name any instrumentation devices not used by Wat, Stern, Jasieński, Młodożeniec and Czyżewski. It is not really the case that an analysis of Futurist sound techniques facilitates presenting, in a nutshell, all phonic strategies used in interwar Polish poetry. Undoubtedly, however, an account of Futurist endeavours in this area covers various avant-​garde sound techniques developed in Poland at the time, including some of the most radical ones. A monographic presentation of sonic structures in Polish Futurist works and a possibly exhaustive yet necessarily selective account of instrumentation techniques in other literary movements, following the assumptions made in this monograph, allows one to commence relatively coherent studies of the sonic dimension in modern lyricism. Texts written over just several years of the Futurist revolution exhibit many instrumentation devices used in Polish poetry written during the two decades separating the two World Wars.2 Furthermore, they exhibit many similarities with the achievements of European avant-​gardes. 1 2 Ryszard Nycz, “ ‘Szare eminencje zachwytu.’ Miejsce epifanii w poetyce Mirona Białoszewskiego,” Pisanie Białoszewskiego, eds. M. Głowiński, Z. Łapiński, Warszawa 1993, 179. Term formulated on the margin of reflections about the general character of Futurist language practices. Moreover, there were no new developments in this area in later Polish poetry of the twentieth and twenty-​first century (the functionalization of these devices being a separate matter). See Beata Śniecikowska, “ ‘Manifest Neolingwistyczny v. 1.1’ i jego poetyckie potomstwo –​twórczość nowatorów czy paseizm?,” Ha!art 23 (2006), 106–​113; Beata Śniecikowska, “ ‘Nowa muzyczność?’ Fonostylistyka awangardowa i jej współczesne kontynuacje,” Acta Universitatis Lodziensis. Folia Litteraria Polonica 15.1 (2012), 121–​40. For Author use only 454 Conclusion As analyses show, there are interesting similarities and differences between the neologising poems by Khlebnikov and works from the neological current of Polish Futurism. The latter were not derivative. Instances of simple, uncreative copying of ideas developed by Khlebnikov or Severyanin are in fact rare. Polish writers would predominantly offer their own solutions, some of which engage in intriguing, chiefly sound-​based dialogue with works written by the author of “Zangezi” (primarily Wat’s namopaniki). On certain occasions, relations with Khlebnikov’s output prove scant, with clearer similarities to devices known from low poetry. Still, a strong correlation between neologising and sound instrumentation would occur only when poets opted to develop (pseudo)etymological figures comprised of many parts, including neological ones. Such endeavours can be linked with Khlebnikov. The question of relations with Dadaism is even more complicated. Many Futurist sound devices can be compared –​at least at first glance –​with Dadaist techniques: numerous echo-​and glossolalias, decomposed words, untypical onomatopoeias, juxtaposition-​and enumeration-​based constructions, as well as breaking artistic or moral conventions and embracing a seemingly primitivistic ludic spirit. Nevertheless, as closer analysis shows, such analogies are largely superficial. Efforts by Polish artists diverge in many respects from works by Tzara, Huelsenbeck, Mehring and Schwitters. The numerous instrumentation patterns that organize texts by Polish Futurists can be classified as sonic-​semantic conceits (often pure-​nonsense in character or fictionalized in a ludic way). Dadaist sound design was far more arbitrary. Despite their authors’ declared destructive ambitions, Polish poems proved to be strongly rooted in literary tradition, which manifests in their respect for genre patterns and the use of language games of older provenance. Among the Dadaists, postulates about breaking away from the artistic past translated much more often into specific literary solutions. Relations between Polish Futurism and Marinetti also seem largely superficial. Analysed poems contain relatively many structures that could be regarded as echoing Marinetti’s idea of “words in freedom.” However, these are never orthodox realizations of the Italian’s postulates. Interestingly, in texts by Polish Futurists, syntactic relations are often substituted by an elaborate phonic layer, more sophisticated and diverse than in works by the author of Zang Tumb Tuuum.3 Studies of relations between Stern’s poetry, Dadaist compositions and Marinetti’s theory of onomatopoeia demonstrate, on the other hand, that there are indeed textual similarities regarding echolalic and glossolalic structures formed out of different avant-​garde impulses. 3 One special example is “Marsz” [March] by Jasieński; in Bruno Jasieński, Utwory poetyckie, manifesty, szkice, Wrocław 1972, 21–​3. See also Beata Śniecikowska, “Poetic Experiments in Polish Futurism: Imitative, Eclectic or Original?,” International Yearbook of Futurism Studies, Vol. 2, ed. G. Berghaus, Berlin 2012, 174–​9. For Author use only Futurist poetics of sound 455 In terms of instrumentation, it is also possible to trace relations between Polish Futurism and local literary tradition. In many cases, phonostylistics allows one to identify a given piece as engaged in intertextual dialogue with Young Poland or folklore. Futurist poems display clear symptoms of the struggle to overcome past conventions. In the case of works that refer to the tradition of Young Poland we should enumerate, first of all, various devices meant to lend more autonomy to sound (glossolalia, word decomposition, proper onomatopoeia), violate syntactic coherence (parole in libertà) and introduce typographical innovation to emphasize sonic correspondences. Futurists would cite folklore by ear, approximating it and often abandoning rhyme-​or syllable-​based organization typical of such works. Still, primarily thanks to using numerous elements of irregular instrumentation, as is characteristic of folk poetry, readers have little difficulty identifying source patterns. Nevertheless, also in this case Futurists did not limit themselves to copying from traditional models, frequently thickening devices derived from folklore. Certain elements, such as glossolalias that verge on intelligibility, would be interestingly developed and functionalized. An important role was also played by the visual underscoring of sonic equivalences, which was entirely alien to oral folk poetry. Coordination of eyes and ears, discernible in compositions that allude to folklore (the most traditional current in national literature), shows that poets attempted to make use of all available artistic means in the effort to valorize sound. In folk art, the poetics of sound was used for various purposes, serving to set a pastoral mood, offering almost naturalistic accounts of peasant life, helping to achieve journalistic or humoristic goals. It finally needs to be underscored that difficulties with articulation, which may not be necessarily connected with any of the aforementioned historical and literary contexts, significantly affect the reception of Futurist poems. Articulacy discomfort arises in works as diverse as Wat’s namopaniki or Stern’s “Pereł” and “Portret mój.” It is simultaneously the simplest device that attracts the readers’ attention to the work’s phonic dimension. Difficulties often involve dense clusters of similarly articulated sounds4 as well as use of foreign words or sequences of very short ones. Phonic complications can be also connected with Futurist orthography, which defamiliarizes even the most common lexemes. The last example in this study is a poem by Stern, titled “Podróż ciekawa do Japonii. Sonet” [An intriguing journey to Japan. A sonnet], which poses huge articulation problems as well as features deep alliterations and ludic pseudo-etymologies: 4 It is more difficult to pronounce similar, multiplied sequences of sounds than phrases comprised of phonically varied lexemes, as is confirmed by numerous tongue-​twisters in various languages, e.g. “Nie pieprz Pietrze wieprza pieprzem, bo przepieprzysz wieprza pieprzem;” “Król Karol kupił królowej Karolinie korale koloru koralowego;” “She sells sea shells on the sea-​shore;” “Noisy noise annoys any oyster;” “Frische Fische fängt Fischer Fritz.” For Author use only 456 Conclusion Banzaj! Tak, ten wielbłąd laplandzki, ten rumak mój –​ren Pośród zim srebrnych, nużących mknie tam, gdzie Japonki, Jak pąki w pachnących spodenkach: lub dzwonków dzwonki W kimonach, jak ten len złocistych i lekkich jak sen. Swoich ostatnich zwątpień depczę dziwny tren, Kołysząc się na renie, jak w gumach parokonki: Mrzonki! Szkarłatniąc pobladłe i wtulone w łąki Mimozy, fontanna koralów krwi bije mi z wen. Banzaj, złocisto-​jedwabny kraju Utamaro! Czy to marą? Micado bladą rąk wąskich parą Chryzantemę daje, bym woni upił się czarą –​ A zdobne w koronki lśniącookie mi Japonki Pąki ust swych ku mnie chylą, patrząc z lotnej dżonki, Co lampionu gore okiem, krążąca, jak bąki. (Tu futurysta całuje czarnooką dziewczynkę). [Banzai! Yes, this Lapland camel, this stead of mine –​reindeer Among silver, weary winters, speeds to where the Japanese women are, Like buds in fragrant shorts: or the bells ringing On kimonos, golden like this linen and light as dreams. I trample on the weird train of my recent doubts, Rocking on the reindeer, like in a horse-​drawn cab: Fantasies! Scarleting the pale and meadow-​hugging Mimosas, a fountain of blood corals springs from my inspiration. Banzai, O! the silk-​golden country of Utamaro! Is it a dream? With his pale slender hands, Mikado Hands me a chrysanthemum to drink in its fragrance –​ While the lace-​adorned bright-​eyed Japanese women Lean over me with their lip buds, looking from an airy junk, Its eye-​lantern burning and circling like bumblebees. (Here, a Futurist is kissing a black-​eyed girl).] (Stern, Wz 48) * Finally, I wish to revisit the controversial issue signalled at the beginning of this study, namely the existence of a poetics of Polish Futurism. Let us recall a quotation that preceded analyses: Particular achievements of the Futurists could never be included in any system. Even if some of them permeated the literary tradition (which they certainly did!), they would immediately lose their history and genealogy. No one would remember where they came from because they were not elements of some poetics –​it is only on this For Author use only Futurist poetics of sound 457 background –​regardless of the movement’s fate –​that they could retain their Futurist character.5 It is true that Polish Futurism did not develop a coherent, homogenous and comprehensive poetics. One of the goals of this study has been to verify whether it is at all possible to speak of a consistent poetics of sound in the context of Polish Futurism. I have adopted numerous perspectives to examine this cabinet of sonic curiosities from the interwar period, but detailed analyses have not helped to formulate any obvious answers. In a 1924 piece, Anatol Stern offered the following characteristic of poets representing Futurism and Nowa Sztuka [New Art]: Jasieński was the first in Poland to develop a distinctly assonance-​based method and reach for proletarian and anti-​religious lyricism … Wat created the only strong work of Polish expressionism and then devoted himself to highly productive elaboration of sound material through morpho-​and semasiological analysis. … Młodożeniec would foreground the social aspect of folk language, enriching the polyphonic concert of New Art with innovative phonetics and folk rhythms. Czyżewski introduced dialectal language into poetry, at the same time autonomising individual components of poetic works. … I have attempted to capture the most characteristic poetic achievements of each one of us. This certainly does not entail any specialization, which we thoroughly rejected. This analysis only demonstrates the paths along which new poetry would penetrate into the reader’s psyche, shaping a new collective culture that we came to express.6 Despite Stern’s reservations, it seems that we do encounter some kind of specialization here7 –​also in the domain of shaping the poem’s sound structure, which 5 6 7 Janusz Sławiński, “Poezje Młodożeńca,” in Przypadki poezji. Pisma wybrane, Kra­ ków 2001, 6; emphasis added. For a discussion of post-​war and especially post-​ October reception of Futurism see Paweł Majerski, “Sytuacja futuryzmu polskiego po przełomie październikowym (na marginesie sporu Anatola Sterna z Antonim Słonimskim),” in Odmiany awangardy, Katowice 2001, 99–​118. Anatol Stern, “O poetach Nowej Sztuki (list do redaktora Almanachu),” in Głód jednoznaczności i inne szkice, Warszawa 1972, 68–​9. Stern’s comments could be fruitfully compared with remarks by J. N. Miller, who characterized the “sound-​based” character of particular Futurists in the following way: “In some [texts by Czyżewski –​B.Ś.], sound themes become crucial; in Pastorałki, for example, they lend the poems high artistic value. In terms of sound, Czyżewski often employs onomatopoeia, which is rejected by later poets as a residue of disdained naturalism.” In Gga, Stern and Wat create “rather artificial things, ones that are too clearly ‘made;’ despite clearly struggling with onomatopoeia, they do not seem to be capable of relinquishing it; thus, against their own intentions, its instances are among the most successful passages in the volume. … In Kreski i futureski Stanisław Młodożeniec ridiculed, banalized and mechanized the movement with his absurdist and copulatory ideas, although in some places, if one listens closely to words themselves (‘ten dzień’ [this day], ‘zgrzyt’ [grinding], For Author use only 458 Conclusion was so crucial for all Futurist poets. In short, we may offer the following synthetic account of Futurist specialization in terms of instrumentation, following the individual writers’ most characteristic traits (the goal of this study was not to describe differences between various authors): Stanisław Młodożeniec: – references to the aesthetics of “words in freedom,” linked with the exposition of the poem’s phonic dimension, – proper onomatopoeias, – atomization of sound, i.e. autonomization of individual phonemes, – coordination of sight and hearing, i.e. visual underscoring of important, often par excellence avant-​garde sound devices such as the autonomization of phonemes, – imitative, creative and polemical references to the phonostylistics and semantics of Young Poland poetry, – ludic (pseudo)etymologization in narratives and descriptions, – play with the structure of rhymes, – variously functionalized folk stylization (Arcadian, journalistic or naturalistic), – word-​formation experimentation that only slightly modifies the poem’s sound. Anatol Stern: – continuation of Young Poland poetics of sound accompanied by a polemic with symbolism in the area of semantics; in one text, modification of Young Poland phonostylistics and semantics, – within Polish Futurism, the most distinct experimentation with primitivizing sound and meaning: almost asemantic echolalias and glossolalias, – proper onomatopoeias, – numerous elaborate (pseudo)etymological figures, in which the dimension of sound clearly dominates over meaning, – coordination of the visual and phonic dimension. Bruno Jasieński: – references to the poetics of “words in freedom,” with clear consequences in the area of instrumentation, – sound-​modifying choppy syntax, – proper onomatopoeias, ‘pastuch’ [herdsman] and most of all ‘pogrzeb’ [funeral]), he reveals a subtle sense of melody.” In: Jan N. Miller, “Harmonja dźwiękowa w poezji najnowszej,” Ponowa 3 (1921), 186–​7. For Author use only Futurist poetics of sound 459 – imitative references to the phonostylistics and semantics of poetry from the turn of the nineteenth and twentieth century, constituting a kind of innovative continuation, – multi-​dimensional references to phonostylistic patterns from folk poetry, – experiments with word-​formation, sometimes involving valorization of sound and often revealing a non-​avant-​garde provenance. Tytus Czyżewski:8 – word sequences approximating parole in libertà, often clearly bound by sound, – choppy syntax full of echoing repetitions, – atomization of sound, lending autonomy to individual phonemes, – a variety of references to Young Poland lyricism: imitative, creative and polemical (in terms of sound and meaning), – Dadaist-​like sound configurations (glossolalias), which nevertheless exhibit many commonalities with folk structures, – untypical proper onomatopoeias that approximate certain Dadaist practices, – variously deployed elements of folklore phonostylistics, – sound-​ linked juxtaposition-​and enumeration-​ based configurations, formed among other means by (pseudo)etymologies and lexical repetitions. Aleksander Wat: – word-​formation experiments that strongly valorize sound through etymological and pseudo-etymological figures, – semantically polemical references to Young Poland, in accord with the phonostylistics from the turn of the centuries, – glossolalic configurations, – decomposition of words into multiply repeated phonemes and syllables –​atomization of sounds, – play with syntax –​distorted and phonically characteristic winding syntax (very far from parole in libertà), – sound-​fused juxtapositions. Let us return to the question of the Futurist poetics of sound. Can we conclude that sound instrumentation was so essential and consistent in Polish Futurism that, despite lacking a single, coherent and comprehensive poetics, there actually did emerge a Futurist poetics of sound? Instrumentation devices adopted by individual 8 Unlike Młodożeniec, Czyżewski would rarely combine visual experimentation with emphasis of the poem’s phonic qualities (only sometimes using bold print or italics to mark onomatopoeias or “atomized” phonemes), although avant-​garde typography –​sometimes even going as far as making “typographical drawings” accompanying the text or incorporated into them –​constitutes a vital element in his works. See Beata Śniecikowska, Słowo –​obraz –​dźwięk. Literatura i sztuki wizualne w koncepcjach polskiej awangardy 1918–​1939, Kraków 2005, 35–​88. For Author use only 460 Conclusion poets were not identical. Each part of this study (especially ones devoted to word-​ formation, folklore and Dadaism) had its protagonists: poets most frequently working within a given phonostylistic paradigm. In the highly heterogeneous body of Futurist works, sound constitutes one of the few elements that connect artistic efforts by different writers (with Wat’s experiments being the most isolated case). Despite the indicated differences, we may argue that the means of developing the sonic tissue in Futurist poems deserve to be called “poetics.” At this stage, we should recall the genre categories formulated by Stefan Sawicki. Sawicki introduces three ways of understanding the fundamental concept of genre.9 The classification-​ based perspective (Renaissance and Enlightenment poetics) rests on the assumption that every work representing a certain literary genre must display all of its characteristics. Lacking even one of them disqualifies the piece genologically.10 Later use of the term “genre” as a typological concept involved much greater liberalization of criteria. As Sawicki notes, these concepts [typological ones] differ from classification-​oriented ones in one important respect: they do not require full identity and homogeneity of characteristics among all elements in the set. A certain model or pattern would be assumed –​one really existing or artificially created –​and the extent of the genre concept would be measured indirectly on the basis of its relation to a given work. A typological concept would thus cover all pieces similar to the model –​ones that have the same features, although they can be exhibited with various intensity.11 The relatively flexible criteria for describing genre as a typological concept were further relaxed, which caused this term to be treated as polytypical (an extreme form of typology). This way of understanding the concept of genre may prove useful if transplanted to another area of literary studies, namely in analysis of problems tackled in this study. Sawicki offers the following definition of polytypic concepts:12 If we assume the model to have a specific set of features f1, f2 …… fn, a polytypic concept would cover a set of instances in which: 1. Each element in the set displays a high number of … the model’s features f; 2. Each feature f of the model is present in many elements in the set; 3. There is no feature f of the model that would be displayed by all elements in the set.13 9 10 11 12 13 Stefan Sawicki, “Gatunek literacki: pojęcie klasyfikacyjne, typologiczne, polity­ piczne,” in Poetyka. Interpretacja. Sacrum, Warszawa 1981, 111–​122. Sawicki, “Gatunek literacki,” 111–​3. Sawicki, “Gatunek literacki,” 116. The scholar references the study by Morton Backner, The Biological Way of Thought, New York 1959. Sawicki, “Gatunek literacki,” 118. For Author use only Futurist poetics of sound 461 This terminological proposition can be adopted in the study of irregular sound instrumentation in Polish Futurist poetry. The polytypic perspective facilitates developing the term “Futurist poetics of sound.” Model features would then include phonostylistic devices used by individual poets. Every instance would display similar techniques (features f) but no single one would have all features comprising the model concept of the “Futurist poetics of sound.” One might wonder about the usefulness of this term for a discussion of artistic works by Jasieński, Czyżewski, Młodożeniec, Stern and Wat. I am aware of the difficulties entailed by adopting this concept, because its analytical potential is certainly limited.14 However, in the case of a highly heterogeneous movement such as Polish Futurism let us underscore the existence of a dimension that is important to all representatives, despite their varied approach to structure and function. The said poets use the sounds of language as a material whose texture can be interesting to the extent that allows one to abstract from clear meanings and abandon poetry’s profound message, which had been so crucial in the previous centuries. I do not wish to reduce Futurism to the sonic dimension as I am mindful that a layered poetics could excessively narrow the discussion. Still, I would strongly emphasize the richness of instrumentation devices used by Jasieński, Wat, Stern, Czyżewski and Młodożeniec as well as certain commonalities among these writers. The purposefulness of the term “Futurist poetics of sound” can be confirmed by comparing the means of developing and functionalizing irregular sound techniques in Polish Futurist poetry with the achievements of another interwar formation gathering constructivist poets: the Kraków Avant-​garde.15 Let us then engage in a brief comparison.16 14 15 16 As Sawicki notes, “polytypic concepts allow one to make cursory observations of vast material. They are especially useful in historical studies. However, danger lurks in what we sometimes call a ‘conceptual bag,’ i.e. when the scope widens excessively, causing to multiply elements lacking shared features, accompanied by the increase in the number of features f of the model. Polytypic concepts seem more useful in historical studies and less so in theoretical poetics, since they do not help to focus on characteristics that make certain pieces similar” (“Gatunek literacki,” 119). For more on the relations between the Kraków Avant-​garde and constructi­ vism, see Wiesław P. Szymański, Neosymbolizm. O awangardowej poezji polskiej w latach trzydziestych, Kraków 1973, 29; Stanisław Jaworski, “Awangarda,” in Literatura polska w okresie międzywojennym, Vol. 1, eds. J. Kądziela, J. Kwiatkowski, I. Wyczańska, Kraków 1979, 195. A fuller analysis would have to take into account significant versification differen­ ces between the Futurists and the poets of the Kraków Avant-​garde. See Aleksandra Okopień-​Sławińska, “Wiersz awangardowy dwudziestolecia międzywojennego (podstawy, granice, możliwości),” Pamiętnik Literacki 2 (1965), 428–​39. For Author use only 462 Conclusion The question of the poem’s sound structure was an important aspect of the immanentist poetics developed by the group formed around Tadeusz Peiper. His poetological texts contain the following claims: obtrusive sonic approximations are … the product of a primitive sensibility. They might have been pleasant-​sounding to insensitive ears and myopic minds, but they cannot and should not move us. Just like the entire culture of the present time, we are carried by distancing, distant relationships and action at a distance.17 Our sense of rhythm is altered today, but it is only in poetry that this shift fails to be fully acknowledged. We keep hearing the stale singalong quality, the lively pace, or the lulling monotony. All the time we encounter the noisy coitus of rhymes and –​as if this debauchery of harmonious syllables were not enough –​the insane poets have augmented it with internal rhymes, also reaching out for other cheap means of making poetry more musical: organ-​grinding harmonies, internal alliterations, assonances and onomatopoeias –​ in short, vulgar acoustics.18 Notably, scholars have so far failed to address the contradiction between Peiper’s theory of poetry and his own lyricism, which boasts numerous harmonies.19 Such contrasts could not emerge in the literary and critical heritage of Julian Przyboś20 or Jan Brzękowski.21 Neither of them would appreciate in their pre-​war theoret­ ical reflections the actual role of sound configurations in their own art. From my perspective, it seems crucial that poets of the Kraków Avant-​garde did not develop a broad range of instrumentation devices to match that of the Futurists (not to mention slighter disparities among individual artists from the circle of Zwrotnica). The Kraków group’s poetics of sound is –​according to criteria laid down by Sawicki –​ a classic and uncomplicated instance of typology. It seems futile to seek in their pieces diverse echolalic or glossolalic structures, autonomous or entirely liberated individual sounds.22 Nor are there any references 17 18 19 20 21 22 Tadeusz Peiper, “Tędy (Rytm nowoczesny),” in Pisma wybrane, Wrocław 1979, 65–​7. Unless stated otherwise, emphases in critical and literary works quoted in the Conclusion have been added. Tadeusz Peiper, “Nowe usta (Rytm i rym),” in Pisma wybrane, 233. I discuss this topic more broadly in Beata Śniecikowska, “ ‘Oddalenia, związki na odległość?’ –​o warstwie dźwiękowej wiersza Tadeusza Peipera,” in Awangardowa encyklopedia, czyli słownik rozumowany nauk, sztuk i rzemiosł różnych. Prace ofiarowane Panu Profesorowi Grzegorzowi Gaździe, eds. I. Hübner et al., Łódź 2008 (the article draws on analyses and findings contained here). See Julian Przyboś, “Pradawny wiersz,” in Sens poetycki, Vol. 1, Kraków 1967, 143; Julian Przyboś, “O słuchu poetyckim,” in Najmniej słów, Kraków 1955, 170–​1, 174. See Jan Brzękowski, “Poezja integralna,” in Wyobraźnia wyzwolona, Kraków 1976, 11–​19. Still, the creators of the Kraków Avant-​garde would employ one Futurist inven­ tion –​a device rarely used earlier in poetry, namely decomposing words into syllables and phonemes. Instances of this seldom appear in their works and the For Author use only Futurist poetics of sound 463 to folk structures (the countryside being merely thematized)23 and proper onomatopoeias.24 Frequent etymological and pseudo-etymological figures are constructed around principles that are far from defamiliarizing the message or homophonic neologising.25 Finally, these works contain no phrases freed from syn­ tactic order and held together only by harmonies that compensate for disjointed grammar. Sound never emerges as the basic compositional element in the way this happens in certain texts by the Futurists.26 Other means of bringing coherence to 23 24 25 26 few examples are: “żart, żart, ż, art, Artur. /​Artur, jego żona, Stefa, Stefa, Stefania” (Tadeusz Peiper, Na przykład. Poemat aktualny, Kraków 1931, 6); “Młoda dziewczyna o oczach jak chabry /​o chabrach jak: ach! /​o chabrach jak H” (Jan Brzękowski, “Chabry,” in Wiersze awangardowe, Kraków 1981, 64); and finally, echoing repetition and skipping sounds and syllables in the significantly titled poem “Echo” by Przyboś: “jdzie po-​bo-​tę –​ao-​rzeeee /​… kół –​ół” (Julian Przyboś, Równanie serca, Warszawa 1938, 74; in the last case, however, the sonic configuration is clearly motivated by the situation signalled in the title, which makes the poem difficult to classify as particularly innovative in terms of language). An example of a reverse technique, which nevertheless leads to desemanticization and loss of word autonomy, is the following line from “Zwyżka dolara w roku 1925:” “Ile? Dzisiaj ile? Ileileileileileileile? Ile?” (Peiper, Pisma wybrane, 316). Peiper wrote on ludicity and primitivism (combining the two): “Poetry derives from folk song, but does it mean that it has to remain chained to it forever? It seems improbable for primitive songs to impact poetry for so long. It may be about the joy of a Sunday walk in the city but does not cease to be a product of naive and non-​discerning “musicality,” while adopting it in literature must seem crude to all civilized people. Still, this crudeness appears to be laudable in Poland” (Peiper, Nowe usta, 232; see also Nowe usta, 214). The few instances of proper onomatopoeia (or similar constructions) can be poin­ ted out in poems by Peiper, e.g.: “Tramwaj, paw z blachy, … gl-​gl … próżność swą rozgęgla” (“Ulica,” in Pisma wybrane, 270) or the semantically opaque “Bóg, SSS ! Bóg na musze” (“Żałobna data,” in Pisma wybrane, 306) and “Żżż! Chwycić to żebro, drzewce nie z ballady” (“Wyjazd niedzielny,” in Pisma wybrane, 338). Ważyk argues that “almost all of his [Peiper’s] poems from this period [1922–​1924] were ossified due to anaphora, repetitions and rhetorical frames. He would sometimes use highly surprising yet funny non-​word sounds such as ‘sss,’ ‘gl-​gl,’ ‘baaa.’ At that stage he still had a sense of humour, perhaps because he moved in Futurist circles, but later it evaporated” (Adam Ważyk, Dziwna historia awangardy, Warszawa 1976, 60–​1). This certainly does not mean that the Kraków Avant-​garde would not coin any neologisms, but merely that they do not constitute the basis of elaborate (pseudo)etymological figures that homophonize large parts of poems. Czyżewski would in turn claim that the “Futurists … impacted the previous lite­ rary epoch subterraneously, causing the surface of poetry to tremble. My Zielone oko and Robespierre, Jasieński’s Szela and Młodożeniec’s Kreski i futureski lodged themselves inside the minds of Irzykowski, the Skamander poets (they had to become ‘inseminated’ somehow) and primarily the younger writers from the circle of Zwrotnica. After a lot of imitation and recombination, they developed the For Author use only 464 Conclusion works function perfectly well in these poems, e.g. syntax or logical and semantic structuring. Instrumentation efforts by the Kraków Avant-​garde are based almost solely on frequent alliteration (particularly its deepened and inverted variants), (pseudo)etymological figures, irregular, often imprecise rhymes and the use of numerous lexical repetitions woven into syntactic structures. The catalogue of devices itself is not the only factor differing Futurist poetics of sound from that of the Kraków Avant-​garde. The fundamental question regards the function that these techniques play in works by Przyboś, Peiper or Brzękowski. We witness here the perfect fulfilment of functions ascribed to specific devices, which is obviously connected with their use. I do not mean to diminish this group’s fascinating and intense use of instrumentation, especially in works by Przyboś.27 However, in com­ parison with Futurist practices these are largely conventional gestures (as demonstrated below). These issues are best illustrated by examples from individual poems. Alliterative and onomatopoeic phrases characteristic of the Kraków Avant-​ garde include the following: Skronie trzeszczą, szczotkowane bokami ulicy [Temples creak, brushed with the sides of the street] (Tadeusz Peiper, “Pod dachem ze smutku” [Under the roof of sadness], Pw 300) Czyli: słońce chce grzeszyć na ziemi wraz z nami i łza czerwona pisze ciszę na papierze miasta. [Thus: the sun wishes to sin on earth with us and a red tear is writing silence on the paper of the city.] (Tadeusz Peiper, “Czyli” [Thus], Pw 278) miasto się rozśpiewa, jak rozmarzona maszyna [the city shall be moved to singing like a dreaming machine] (Tadeusz Peiper, “Rano” [In the morning], Pw 269) krwi karmin, kości klejnot, mięsa krasa [carmine blood, bone jewels, meat bloom] (Tadeusz Peiper, “Na plaży” [On the beach], Pw 322) Kolumnada kominów, … dach z chmur, które parują ze spoconej skóry 27 famous ‘metaphor’ which, during our ‘Futurist’ period, was the ‘avant-​garde’ of the avant-​garde” (Tytus Czyżewski, “O malarstwie i poezji bez literatury,” Sygnały 18 (1936), 7). See Jerzy Kwiatkowski, “Od ‘Sponad’ do ‘Równania serca’,” in Świat poetycki Ju­liana Przybosia, Warszawa 1972, 111–​13. For Author use only Futurist poetics of sound 465 [A colonnade of chimneys, … roof made of clouds evaporating from sweaty skin] (Tadeusz Peiper, “Z Górnego Śląska” [From Upper Silesia], Pw 291) Sierp drobnego horyzontu ze żyt płonących zżął mnie na odległość… Niski owies, sypiąc się, seplenił… [The sickle of a lean horizon from burning rye it reaped me from afar… Low oat spilled out, lisping…] (Julian Przyboś, “Odjazd z wakacji” [Departure from holidays], Sl 71) Świtkiem wrzał wrzask ptasi, pisk i trzepot, jak w piórniku rysik! Ach, iść tak, dziobany ćwierkaniem i świrem, wytarzany w trawie w mokrym gąszczu szeleszczącym po pachy [At dawn bird roar boiled, squeal and flapping, like a pencil in a pencil box! Oh, to walk like that, pecked at with twittering and chirping, rolled in grass in the damp thicket rustling as high as the armpits] (Julian Przyboś, “na nowiu” [at the new moon])28 Jak grom w górach gruchała dziobiąca w roziskrzonej ranie Gołębica. [Like a thunder in the mountains, the pigeon was pecking at the sparkling wound Cooing.] (Julian Przyboś, “sen” [dream])29 Pociąg ruszył w chorągiew nieznaną. I biegł dudniąc przez kolczasty płot ze swastyk, przez iglasty las z bagnetów, zwarty w trybach, ryglowany w rytm der Sprache –​ [The train departed into unknown company. 28 29 Julian Przyboś, W głąb las, Cieszyn 1932, 4. Przyboś, W głąb las, 7. For Author use only 466 Conclusion It ran rumbling through the barbed-​wire fence made from swastikas through the coniferous forest of bayonets, serried in cogs bolted to the rhythm of der Sprache –​] (Julian Przyboś, “Na Zachód” [Westwards], Sl 81) Pociąg przecina przestrzeń, jak powietrza giętki pręt [The train cuts space like a pliant rod of air] (Jan Brzękowski, “Maszynista Rola Piotr” [Peter the engine driver], Wa 19) pomalowane pawiany tęsknoty tańczą tango [painted baboons longings are dancing tango] (Jan Brzękowski, “Ogród sentymentów” [Garden of sentiments], Wa 36) The innovation of the Kraków Avant-​garde consists primarily in the sometimes astounding density of repeated phonemes and frequent use of onomatopoeias. Along with alliteration, they often play an important role in metaphors but do not surprise with their form by lacking glossolalic configurations, proper onomatopoeias and autonomous phonemes. Moreover, the basic sound function is connected here with semantic issues typical of such devices: distinct creation of mood and attentiveness to unusual, often metaphorical word combinations. Thanks to phonic correspondences, readers immediately grasp metaphors such as “kolumnada kominów” [colonnade of chimneys], “wrzał wrzask” [roar boiled], “tęsknoty tańczą tango” [longings are dancing tango], “rusztowanie przestrzeni” [the scaffolding of space], “rozmarzona maszyna” [dreaming machine]. Sonic proximity also helps to discern fascinating connections between the form and semantics of unrelated words. Such correlations are rarely noticeable in everyday language, despite the fact that lexemes used in poems sometimes occur together in regular speech, e.g. “iglasty las” [coniferous forset], “chmury które parują … ze skóry” [clouds evaporating from … skin], “szeleszczący gąszcz” [thicket rustling]. The sonic-​semantic conceptualism of the Kraków Avant-​garde proves emerges with even greater clarity in the case of paronyms forming (pseudo)etymological figures. A prime example of this is a passage from Peiper’s “Wyjazd niedzielny” [Sunday trip]: który dotąd szeptem krzyczałem, chcę krzyczeć krzykiem, … Mówi to słowiarz, lecz nie są to tylko słowa, to jest słowiarza druga druga ta druga połowa. Kto zna mnie, wie że umiem umieć wszystko co umieć zechcę, tylko krzywdy człowieka udźwignąć nie umie moje moje serce Mówię to po raz pierwszy i pewnie ostatni mimo że słownik uczuć przypadł mi bezpłatnie, For Author use only Futurist poetics of sound 467 bo gdy inny rozbiera się w wystawowym zdaniu, ja mówię więcej, choć u mnie zdaniem może być gwizdanie! … Tak; między rzeką a rzeką i między rzeczą a rzeczą promienie widzę, nie tylko międzyrzecza. [what I shouted out whispering, I wish to shout out shouting … This spoken by a word-​man, but these are not merely words this is the word-​man’s other other the other half. Those who know me know that I know how to know everything I wish to know it is only the harm of another that my heart cannot bear I say this for the first and probably the last although I obtained my dictionary of feelings free of charge whereas others undress in exhibition sentences, I speak more, even though my speech can be whistling! … Yes; between river and river, and between thing and thing I see rays and not only empty space.] (Tadeusz Peiper, Pw 338) In subsequent lines the poet accustoms readers to various etymological and semantic links between paronyms, basing on both etymological and pseudo-etymological figures: apart from the lexemes “słowa” [words] and “słownik” [dictionary] the text includes the neologism “słowiarz” [word-​man] suggesting a relationship between “zdanie” [sentence] and “gwizdanie” [whistling] and polyptotonically multiplying various forms of the verb “umieć” [know] and the nouns “rzeka” [river] and “rzecz” [thing]. The last lines feature a pseudo-etymological figure that suggests a semantic connection between the words “rzeka” [river], “rzecz” [thing], “międzyrzecze” [doab], emphasizing (or rather creating) a metaphorical link between the last two. According to Peiper, the key issue in this text is the development of meaning. Semantic presentation is nevertheless based on multi-​layered play with sound, which proves indispensable to notice the semantic approximations. The elaborate harmonies and semantic relations they form (or at least their suggestion) is also the goal in the following passages: u słońca uwieszona wieś. [a village hanging at the sun.] (Julian Przyboś, “Chaty” [Cottages], Sl 59) Świat ze wzgórz skołysany drzewami w zieleni: Gwoźnica i zaświat … For Author use only 468 Conclusion odrosłem od zwalonych bogów czternastą latoroślą lat. [The world from the hillside swayed with trees all green: Gwoźnica and the netherworld … I grew away from collapsed gods with fourteen-​year-​old vines.] (Julian Przyboś, “pełnia” [full moon])30 Mój zagon po zbóż fali żegluje, oto chwyta wiatr w obłok, żagiel żytem posrebrniał. Ofiaruję ci, ojcze, ojcowiznę wyżętą: Snopek życia i ostu. [My patch sails on waving fields, here it catches wind with a cloud, the sail silvering with rye. I offer you, my father, a wrung fatherland: A sheaf of life and thistles.] (Julian Przyboś, “Z podróży” [From the journey])31 irracjonalny niematerialny wyzwolony z pęt pęd [irrational immaterial freed from fetters rushing] (Jan Brzękowski, “Praca o zachodzie” [Work at sunset], Wa 86) a w dole rosło słońce, słońsze –​jak krew słone [the sun grew down below, sunnier –​saltier like blood] (Jan Brzękowski, “Kobiety moich snów” [Women of my dreams], Wa 91) Po drodze moszczonej księżycem Księża –​ bryczką huczeli czarni i groźni jak brwi 30 31 Przyboś, W głąb lasu, 9. Przyboś, Równanie serca, 40. For Author use only Futurist poetics of sound 469 [Down a moon-​lined road Black priests in an open carriage went booming, menacing like brows] (Jan Brzękowski, “Księżyc nad Olchawą” [Moon over Olchawa], Wa 100) Orchestration efforts by the Kraków Avant-​garde thus perfectly match traditional, relatively uncomplicated use of sound techniques. As Pszczołowska noted, Instrumentation … is capable of establishing … [between words] connections that directly involve semantics, which serves many purposes. One of them is linguistic and conceptual conceit, typical of baroque poetry. It is supported with various word-​and-​ sound figures, primarily etymological ones, both genuine and false.32 The centuries-​old aim of (pseudo)etymologies has been to indicate real or feigned semantic connections. Pseudo-etymologies often constitute the basis of ludic wordplay but would also be sometimes used as a means of developing metaphors, becoming a crucial link that ties meanings together (with a special role played in this respect by Romanticism).33 The humorous or serious search for meanings hiding behind harmonies has nevertheless always been fundamental. What the sound poetics of Futurism and the Kraków Avant-​garde share is the frequent use of (pseudo)etymologies. In the case of the latter, it seems mostly motivated by semantics (i.e., ultimately by tradition), with meaning far from ludic jesting.34 Paronomasia based on (pseudo)etymology may sometimes define the axis of a given piece (e.g. in works by Przyboś), but it never becomes the foundation of the poem, as in the case of Futurism. Nor is it a perverse game with readers, going as far as to suspend any semantic solutions to sound puzzles (as in works that cannot be fully explicated, e.g. Stern’s “Portret mój” or Wat’s namopaniki). In poems by Przyboś, Brzękowski and Peiper, sound remains subservient to meaning, the phonic layer being treated merely as accessory: vital, carefully chosen yet always yielding before meaning as the basic creation of poetry. Futurism, on the other hand, would use sound instrumentation in a much more varied, carefree and inconsistent manner, sometimes playing with sound just for the purpose of bringing forth its materiality. 32 33 34 Lucylla Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, Wrocław 1977, 55; empha­ sis added. See Pszczołowska, Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, 56–​7. Wordplay based on homo­ phony is not an avant-​garde invention; it is particularly common in Brzękowski (see e.g. “Autobiografia” in Wa 68–​9). For a discussion of his search for “new sound principles of adjacent words” see Janusz Sławiński, “O poezji Jana Brzękowskiego,” in Przypadki poezji. Pisma wybrane, Vol. 5, Kraków 2001, 127. The main meaning-​making role of paronomasia in works by the Kraków Avant-​ garde is well described by Jan Prokop. Still, his findings regarding Futurist instrumentation seem excessively generalizing (Jan Prokop, “Uwagi o poezji Anatola Sterna,” Poezja 10 (1969), 80). See also Aleksandra Okopień-​Sławińska, “Wiersz awangardowy,” 441–​2. For Author use only 470 Conclusion Aside from specific deep alliterations and pseudo-etymologies, one hallmark of the poetics developed by the Kraków Avant-​garde is the unusual character of the rhymes that link lines of irregular length.35 Peiper often employs specific ana­ grammatic rhymes:36 inverse consonances, in which the second rhyming word contains an inverted sequence of consonants (“długo” –​“głodu;” “chodem” –​ “dachom;” “razy” –​“zero;” “chodu” –​“ducha;” “cieśli” –​“liście;” “grozą” –​“zegar;” “pusty” –​“stopa;” “blasku” –​“skoble”).37 A special role is also played in this context (especially in the case of Przyboś) by imperfect internal rhymes. Consequently, rhyme does not make the text rhythmical for the Kraków Avant-​garde poets.38 This diminishes its role in shaping poems.39 In the case of rhymes separated by several longer lines, readers’ habits play a lesser role, causing the harmonies to be surprising and seem irregular40 (even if the distance is mathematically precise, as in the case of Peiper). Often, especially in texts by Przyboś, rhymes connect words intriguingly related in terms of meaning, but making such semantic links was not common among all members of the group, one specific counterexample being the lyricism of Peiper. 35 36 37 38 39 40 See Julian Przyboś, “O rymie,” in Najmniej słów, Kraków 1955, 166–​8; Julian Przyboś, “O słuchu poetyckim,” in Najmniej słów, 176–​7. This question is traditionally considered a part of regular instrumentation. It is closely connected with versification yet there are arguments (irregularity, considerable length of lines separating rhyming pairs –​even those in relatively regular patterns) that could incline one to consider the numerous phonic configurations of verse endings (clausulas) in poems by Zwrotnica authors as instances of irregular instrumentation. Lucylla Pszczołowska, Wiersz polski. Zarys historyczny, Wrocław 1997, 340. Examples drawn from poems by Peiper: “Zwyżka dolara w roku 1925,” “Że,” “Na plaży” (Pw 314–​315, 311, 319, 321). It is also worth to note the “clipped” rhymes that appear in Peiper’s works (rhymes comprising “multi-​syllable words with single-​syllable ones;” Pszczołowska, Wiersz polski, 340), e.g. “krzty” and “krzywdy” (“Zwyżka dolara,” Pw 315) and “accelerating” rhymes, where “a single sound in one word corresponds, through rhyme, with several sounds in another word” (Pszczołowska, Wiersz polski, 340), e.g. “kręte” and “atramentem” (Tadeusz Peiper, “Dancing,” Pw 330). Aleksandra Okopień-​Sławińska, “Pomysły do teorii wiersza współczesnego (Na przykładzie poezji Przybosia),” in Styl i kompozycja, ed. J. Trzynadlowski, Wrocław 1965, 183. See Pszczołowska, Wiersz polski, 342. Lexical repetitions in Peiper’s “blossoming” long poems can be described similarly. Numerous commentaries disregard the phonic quality of these constructions. The blossoming consists in numerous repetitions of the same words and phrases, which not only brings discussed semantic connotations, but also introduces a certain kind of order and sometimes an illusory phonic pattern. (Readers are often unable to predict how a given phrase will develop, how long will be the passage that returns in another “blossoming” part and where the broken syntactic thread will be picked up). See Śniecikowska, “ ‘Oddalenia, związki na odległość?’.” For Author use only Futurist poetics of sound 471 In comparison with the Kraków Avant-​garde, rhyme structures in Futurist poems are usually less elaborate yet more varied. Various configurations can be indicated, ranging from traditional, regular patterns, through various irregular models, to blank verse. Unlike in the phonostylistics of the Kraków Avant-​garde, rhyming patterns do not constitute a clear hallmark of a Futurist poetics of sound. The examples discussed above confirm that the sound poetics of the Kraków Avant-​garde (in the domain of irregular instrumentation) bases on frequent use of the following figures: – alliterations and deep alliterations, – etymologies and pseudo-etymologies, – irregular and imperfect rhymes. These techniques also constitute elements of the polytypic category “Futurist poetics of sound.” Its scope is nevertheless far broader than the Kraków Avant-​ garde’s poetics of sound outlined here, involving not only a richer repertoire of instrumentation devices, but also their different functionalization. Whereas poetry from the circle of Peiper uses relatively conventional yet creatively deployed techniques, primarily used to develop conceit-​based metaphors (in the semantic function), Futurist poetics proves much more complex, although the meaning-​ making function naturally remains important. In Futurist poems, sound devices play many more roles, including: – creating intertextual relations: phonostylistics makes it possible to identify various artistic references (the case of namopaniki) and stylization efforts (with folklore or the poetics of Young Poland as the model); – poem-​forming: phonic organization proves to be the fundamental constitutive element of many poems (Wat’s namopaniki; Stern’s texts such as “Portret mój,” “Południe”); – meta-​artistic function: sonic playfulness in works verging on semantic lucidity reveals a Dadaist spirit, demonstrating a special understanding of the status of artworks; – clear signalling of the avant-​garde character: coordinated play with sound and the visual dimension is a hallmark of inventiveness and proof of transcending literary conventions. Wat’s total orchestration and neological experiments are also regarded as radically avant-​garde in character; – dynamization: close harmonies often lend poems an unusual tempo, influencing its dynamics (which is particularly important in the case of texts referencing the aesthetics of “words in freedom”); – ludicity: dissonances are often comical, as in the poetics of pure nonsense. In the perspective of studies on the interwar period, the rich and variously deployed Futurist poetics of sound (though sometimes unstable or wild) should be clearly distinguished from efforts by other poets who valorize sound. This is clearly confirmed by the context of the Kraków Avant-​garde, but this claim also holds ground in reference to works by poets such as Julian Tuwim or Józef Czechowicz. For Author use only 472 Conclusion This is no place for a detailed account of their phonostylistics (this would require two separate, lengthy studies). Nevertheless, the Futurists were notably closer to Tuwim, whose experiments (especially Słopiewnie) serve as an important context for the discussion of Futurist poetry in this book. His works abound in creative modifications of the poem’s phonic tissue: neologisms, glossolalias, echolalias, (pseudo)etymologies, references to various styles and forms, sound-​linked literary collections of curiosities and more sporadically –​instances of decomposing words into syllables and phonemes, or sonic configurations approximating parole in libertà. These poems nevertheless rarely feature unusual proper onomatopoeias, phonically fused and juxtaposition-​based oneiric elements, or correlations between the visual and sonic dimensions. However, it seems to be crucial that poems based on experiments with sound comprise only a portion of Tuwim’s rich literary heritage. Such works are marginal in his largely traditional and serious oeuvre41 (although texts like Słopiewnie have in fact become canonical). Ascribing greater importance to Tuwim’s untypical and non-​traditional sound techniques would be a misrepresentation of his literary output. In the case of Futurism, phonostylistic devices are a fundamental tenet of poetics, shared by most Futurist poets. Despite far-​reaching ludicity and irreverence, their intense work with sound is not always limited to humorous texts. Consequently, during the interwar period Futurist practices have achieved a distinctiveness that can be grasped better by introducing the concept of “Futurist poetics of sound,” which covers the totality of irregular instrumentation techniques. 2. F  uturist heritage This book avoids making judgements regarding undeniable literary borrowings and influences: its point is not to argue that Futurist instrumentation was the basis and source of inspiration for later poets. Artistic and social extravagance of this movement caused it not to be taken seriously by contemporaries. Indeed, one could even doubt whether “the merit of [Polish] Futurists was in fact to shock, which played a ground-​breaking role.”42 It is not the study of influences that comes to the fore but the possibility to discern actual textual similarities between the Futurists and other post-​war experiments in the modern Polish lyric. From today’s perspective it appears clear that even if Futurism did not directly shape later poets, it had a relatively large circle of more or less self-​conscious inheritors.43 Instrumentation devices introduced into Polish by Stern, Wat, Czyżewski, Jasieński and Młodożeniec have become, after many years, one of the 41 42 43 One important exception is Bal w Operze. Jan Brzękowski, “Awangarda. Szkic historyczno-​teoretyczny,” in Wyobraźnia wyzwolona, 104. See Stanisław Barańczak, “Trzy złudzenia i trzy rozczarowania polskiego futu­ ryzmu,” in Etyka i poetyka. Szkice 1970–​1978, Paris 1979, 73. For Author use only Futurist heritage 473 staples of contemporary lyricism, although not owing only to Futurists. Moreover, variously deployed sound techniques initiated by Futurist jesting still prove attractive to subsequent generations of writers. The most important and spectacular return of the sonic dimension is audible in the more current Polish linguistic poetry. Since the exhaustive elaboration of linguistic poetry lies beyond the scope of this book, I shall limit myself to several general remarks. Linguistic poets would utilize phonic strategies introduced by the Kraków Avant-​garde as well as introduce techniques previously used only by the Futurists.44 These include neologistic word transformation clearly that clearly modifies the phonic dimension of the text,45 along with the development of juxtaposition-​and enumeration-​based configurations fused by sound46 and nar­ ration of grotesque or comical stories in which humour is rooted in (pseudo)etymologies.47 Some of the Futurist techniques –​often ludic in character –​resurfaced after several decades in poems by Miron Białoszewski. He united the sonic and 44 45 46 47 See Śniecikowska, “‘Manifest Neolingwistyczny v. 1.1’.” Let us recall several lines that seem closest to Futurist practices (especially expe­ riments such as “Przewrót” and “Futurobnia”). Consider the following passage from a poem by Wirpsza (my own emphases –​B.Ś): “Kłamstwo uszpitalnione. Lekarstwa ukłamane. Szpital /​ Ulekarzony. Miłosierdzie ulekiwane.” [A lie hospitalized. Drugs applied. The hospital /​ doctored. Mercy drugged.] (Witold Wirpsza, “Listy, 1. Śmierć,” in Drugi opór, Warszawa 1965, 14). Sometimes neologisms resemble the asystemic, “cosmopolitan” and one-​off neologistic word-​games known from Wat’s namopaniki: “Ponimajesz, opar rosy, oparosy, comprenez-​ vous, /​W trawie, trawiastości, w chłodnym zielonym świetle, /​ W świetle zielonego chłodu, chłodnej zieleni, verstehen Sie, /​Kamień, srebrne lustro, brzask, pobudka, podubka, /​Wszystko zobaczył i coś mu przeszkadza, intellegis-​ne. /​ Pojętny, pojętne mu było, ale nie pojemne. /​Przeczytać?” [Ponimaesh, dew fumes, dewfumes, comprenez-​vous, /​In grass, in grassiness, in the cold green light, /​In the light of green cold, cold greenness, verstehen Sie, /​Stone, silver mirror, dawn, reveille, reveille, /​He saw everything, and something bothers him, intellegis-​ne. /​Quick to learn, clever, but not capacious. /​Shall I read it?] (Witold Wirpsza, “Ars legendi,” in Drugi opór, 23). See also the analyses of “neologizing” texts by S. S. Czachorowski in Anna Świrek, W kręgu współczesnej poezji lingwistycznej, Zielona Góra 1985, 67–​68, 150. See also Miron Białoszewski, “Funkcje,” in Utwory zebrane, Vol. 1, Warszawa 1987, 176; “hepyent (1),” in Utwory zebrane, Vol. 1, 318. See Tymoteusz Karpowicz, “Historia białopiennego źródła,” in W imię znaczenia, Wrocław 1962, 40; Zbigniew Bieńkowski, “Wstęp do poetyki,” in Trzy poematy, Warszawa 1959, 77. See “Wypadek z gramatyki” by Białoszewski (Białoszewski, Utwory zebrane, Vol. 1, 193); “Skandal z pocałunkiem” by Balcerzan (Edward Balcerzan, Morze, pergamin i ty, Poznań 1960, 32). See also Stanisław Barańczak, Nieufni i zadufani. Romantyzm i klasycyzm w młodej poezji lat sześćdziesiątych, Wrocław 1971, 72–​3; Henryk Pustkowski, “Gramatyka poezji?,” Warszawa 1974, 149. For Author use only 474 Conclusion visual dimensions of poetry,48 sought to atomize phonemes,49 made phonostylistic allusions to folk structures,50 used instrumentation devices as cultural allusions,51 employed proper onomatopoeias52 and engaged in pure-​nonsense-​like play with sound.53 The repertoire of Futurist techniques was far broader than that of the Kraków Avant-​garde. It might thus seem that referring to the latter’s poetics is superfluous, all the more so since this study does not address the influence of specific texts but structural similarities. One needs to bear in mind, however, that there is one difference between the two formations, which plays a fundamental role in the functionalization of instrumentation efforts: the former is highly ludic, whereas the latter’s explorations are very serious and employ many theoretical formulas of linguistic and semantic character. It is the solemnity of language experience and the semantic orientation that link the linguistic poets –​who did not indulge in noisy games –​to authors from the circle of Zwrotnica.54 Nevertheless, we should underscore that by adopting the heritage of the Kraków Avant-​garde, the linguistic poets also discovered –​and semanticized, like Peiper’s group would –​the less frequented and more casual phonostylistic paths set out by the Futurists. Indeed, 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 See Miron Białoszewski, “Sztuki piękne mojego pokoju,” in Utwory zebrane, Vol. 1, 67. See also Witold Sadowski, Tekst graficzny Białoszewskiego, Warszawa 1999, 48; Miron Białoszewski, “ ‘Ach, gdyby, gdyby nawet piec zabrali’ Moja niewyczerpana oda do radości,” in Utwory zebrane, Vol. 1, 50 (see also Sadowski, Tekst graficzny Białoszewskiego, 93). See the following texts by Białoszewski: “domyślam się, domyślam,” in Utwory zebrane, 250; “Tłumaczenie się z twórczości,” in Utwory zebrane, 167; “Podłogo, błogosław!,” in Utwory zebrane, 61; “Ulotne,” in Utwory zebrane, 221, and “Ot-​ zobaczew” (Sadowski, Tekst graficzny Białoszewskiego, 111), “z dziennika” (Jerzy Kwiatkowski, “Abulia i liturgia,” in Klucze do wyobraźni, Kraków 1973, 160). See also Włodzimierz Bolecki, “O jednym wierszu,” in Pisanie Białoszewskiego, 204–​14; for a discussion of the Futurist provenance of such practices of Białoszewski see Janusz Sławiński, Koncepcja języka poetyckiego Awangardy Krakowskiej, Kraków 1998, 89. See Miron Białoszewski, “Zadumanie o sieni kamienicznej,” in Utwory zebrane, Vol. 1, 48–​9; Miron Białoszewski, “Dwie kuźnie najpóźniejsze,” in Utwory zebrane, Vol. 1, 50. See Miron Białoszewski, “Ballada do rymu,” in Utwory zebrane, 181; “Blok, ja w nim,” in Sadowski, Tekst graficzny Białoszewskiego, 25. See Miron Białoszewski, “Przerzut objawu,” in Utwory zebrane, 202–​3; “Obierzyny (2),” in Utwory zebrine, 162. See Miron Białoszewski, “Otwockanoc,” in Utwory zebrane, 220; “Liczyć się z pan­ toflami (sprawdzone),” in Utwory zebrane, 184. See Ryszard Matuszewski, “Moraliści, ‘słowiarze’ i mitotwórcy,” in Z problemów literatury polskiej XX wieku, Vol. 3, eds. A. Brodzka, Z. Żabicki, Warszawa 1965, 253–​4; Janusz Sławiński, “Próba porządkowania doświadczeń,” in Przypadki poezji, 294–​300. For Author use only Futurist heritage 475 in this perspective sound devices often “lose their origin and genealogy.”55 This demonstrates that the lack of a coherent and total group poetics makes it difficult to establish Futurist antecedents in the area of phonic games. Still, what might help to discern kinship with works by Czyżewski, Wat, Stern, Młodożeniec and Jasieński is the awareness that soon after the First World War there developed a rich and largely coherent Futurist poetics of sound. In this perspective, Futurism, the Kraków Avant-​garde and linguistic poetry share a modernist56 fascination with language as an amazing matter and versatile tool, which facilitated all kinds of ludic efforts: parodic and journalistic on the one hand and constructivist or meaning-​making on the other. Sound instrumentation has also proven fascinating for representatives of younger generations. Authors of the 2003 neo-​ linguistic manifesto (Manifest Neolingwistyczny57) return to strategies of wordplay first created in the interwar period and picked up several decades ago by the linguistic movement. The neo-​ linguists reveal their scholarly background in the very phrasing of their manifesto, which references Italian and Polish Futurists as well as linguistic poetry: “Time has yet again freed words. … People are writing machines. … Words are visible. Images can rhyme, just like sound. Sound is ripe with meaning.”58 Just like linguistic poets, young writers employ devices used by both the Futurists and the Kraków Avant-​ garde. Consider the following examples: choć nie wyglądam pogląd mam zwłaszcza gdy ląd de 55 56 57 58 Sławiński, “Poezje Młodożeńca,” 6. I understand the term “modernism” very broadly here. See Włodzimierz Bole­ cki, “Modernizm w literaturze polskiej XX w.,” Teksty Drugie 4 (2002), 11–​34; Włodzimierz Bolecki, “Postmodernizowanie modernizmu,” in Polowanie na postmodernistów (w Polsce), Kraków 1999, 43–​61; Ryszard Nycz, Język modernizmu, Wrocław 2002, 9–​45. See Tomasz Cieślak-​Sokołowski, “Próba porządkowania tekstów,” FA-​art 3–​4 (2003), 142–​3. According to Ha!art, the manifesto was drafted on 3 December 2002 (“Neolingwizm –​subiektywne kalendarium,” Ha!art 3–​4 (2003), 30). For a broader analysis of language in neolinguistic poetry see Jarosław Klejnocki, “Samplujący didżeje (O nowym warszawskim lingwizmie),” Studium 3–​4 (2003), 33–​54. See also Tomasz Cieślak, “Poezja neolingwistów warszawskich,” in Nowa poezja polska: Twórcy –​tematy –​motywy, Kraków 2009, 175–​186. Marcin Cecko, Maria Cyranowicz, Michał Kasprzak, Jarosław Lipszyc, Joanna Mueller, “Manifest Neolingwistyczny v. 1.1,” Ha!art 3–​4 (2003), 27. The phrase “brzmienie jest brzemienne w sens” [sound is ripe with meaning] can be regarded as an allusion to Bieńkowski’s “Wstęp do poetyki” [Introduction to poetics] where he writes that “w tym świecie, jedynym świecie możliwym do wymówienia, /​ gdzie brzemienne brzmieniem wszystko czeka” [in this world, the only one that can be pronounced, /​where everything awaits, ripe with meaning] (Bieńkowski, “Wstęp do poetyki,” 73). For Author use only 476 Conclusion koltu wymierzony (kolibra kalibrem) we mnie (a nocą w imiona wymnie się) więc wymień mnie bo masie podobać ma się (maski włóż majtki zdejm) dama da ci podietę59 [although I may not look it I have an opinion especially when when the land of dé colleté is aimed (with the calibre of a hummingbird) at me (at night it will crumple into names) so swap me because the masses must like it (put on masks take off pants) the lady shall excite you] te zdania pąki zdań pęta zapętlenia prawdziwe barokowe szaleństwo!60 [these buds of sentences are bound by loops of true baroque madness!] This immediately raises concern about derivativeness, i.e. whether this is mere play with conventions or a serious attempt at restoring a seemingly obsolete modern writing strategy.61 Neolinguistic efforts reveal a serious and distrustful attitude to language, which nevertheless does not stop the younger artists from adopting and specifically semanticizing phonostylistic devices of Futurist provenance. Today, neolinguistic poetry appears to be yet another incarnation of literary modernism. From the perspective of phonostylistics, it constitutes another link in 59 60 61 The poem “Papierówki, prawdziwki” by Joanna Mueller, in Somnambóle fantomowe, Kraków 2003, 31. Excerpt from the poem “słuchaj” by Jarosław Lipszyc, in Poczytalnia, Warszawa 2000, 6. These problems are discussed in Śniecikowska, “‘Manifest Neolingwistyczny v. 1.1’.” For Author use only Futurist heritage 477 the historical line of modernity, which dates back to the Futurism and the Kraków Avant-​garde. * Works by the Polish Futurists are often treated as a literary curio, an amusing yet marginal phenomenon from the early years of the interwar period. Indeed, the movement was ephemeral, and its representatives would often tackle banal topics. Nevertheless, despite its incoherence and tendency towards reckless word-​and-​ sound acrobatics, Futurist poetics of sound exemplifies a lively elaboration of well-​ known literary solutions and an important addition of new elements to earlier artistic experiences. These efforts proved to be a significant element in the historical evolution of literature, also due to their chronology. Futurism can be considered the first step towards a specifically composed and intriguingly functionalized sonic tradition in modern Polish poetry.62 This book has offered comparative analysis of various instrumentation strategies that have been important both in the interwar period and later. Poems by Jasieński, Wat, Stern, Młodożeniec and Czyżewski are not just strong and unexpected “stabs in the ear.” Besides cacophonous and bruitist pieces that shock with both sound and look, they also include works rooted in tradition, namely deeply symbolist or folkloristic. Furthermore, the numerous compositions rejected by most readers contemporary to Futurists are today widely appreciated as experimental, challenging and even euphonic.63 In the light of the above, the Futurist heritage clearly consists in a great shift in the perception of literary language. 62 63 See Zbigniew Jarosiński, “Futuryzm,” in Słownik literatury polskiej XX wieku, eds. A. Brodzka et al., Wrocław 1992, 320; Barańczak, Trzy złudzenia, 71–​3, 82. Cf. e.g. Chapter Two, 240–​2. For Author use only For Author use only Bibliography1 Primary sources Antologia polskiego futuryzmu i Nowej Sztuki [Anthology of Polish Futurism and New Art], ed. H. Zaworska, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1978. Czyżewski T., Noc –​Dzień. Mechaniczny instynkt elektryczny [Nigth –​Day. Mechanical Electrical Instinct], Gebethner i Wolff, Kraków 1922. Czyżewski T., “O malarstwie i poezji bez literatury” [On Painting and Poetry without Literature], Sygnały 18 (1936). Czyżewski T., “Od maszyny do zwierząt –​Kto się gniewa na nas” [From Machine to Animals –​Who is Angry with Us], Formiści 4 (1921). Czyżewski T., Pastorałki [Dramatized Christmas Carols], with woodcuts by T. Makowski, Polskie Towarzystwo Przyjaciół Książki, Paryż 1925. Czyżewski T., Poezje i próby dramatyczne [Poems and Dramatic Pieces], ed. A. Baluch, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1992. Czyżewski T., Wiersze i utwory teatralne [Poems and Work for Theatre], ed. J. Kryszak, A. K. Waśkiewicz, słowo/​obraz terytoria, Gdańsk 2009. Czyżewski T., Zielone oko. Poezje formistyczne. Elektryczne wizje [Green Eye. Formist Poems. Electrical Visions], G. Gebethner i Spółka, Kraków 1920. Gga. Pierwszy polski almanach poezji futurystycznej. Dwumiesięcznik prymitywistów [Gga. First Polish Almanac of Futurist poetry. A Primitivist Bi-​ monthly], Wydawnictwo “Futur Polski,” Warszawa, December 1920. Jankowski J., Rytmy miasta [Urban Rhythms], ed. A. K. Waśkiewicz, Zespół Usług Kulturalnych “UNIVERSITAS” i Wydział Kultury PDRN Warszawa-​ Śródmieście, Warszawa 1972. Jasieński B., But w butonierce [Shoe in Buttonhole], Klub Futurystów “Katarynka,” Warszawa–​Kraków 1921. Jasieński B., Poezje zebrane [Collected Poems], ed. B. Lentas, słowo/​obraz terytoria, Gdańsk 2008. Jasieński B., Słowo o Jakóbie Szeli [The Tale of Jakób Szela], Imprimerie Menilmontant, Paryż 1926. Jasieński B., Utwory poetyckie, manifesty, szkice [Poetic Works, Manifests and Essays], ed. E. Balcerzan, Ossolineum, Wrocław–​Warszawa–​Kraków–​ Gdańsk 1972. 1 Primary and secondary sources include only works cited or mentioned in this book. For Author use only 480 Bibliography Jednodńuwka futurystuw. Mańifesty futuryzmu polskiego [Futurist One-​off. Manifestoes of Polish Futurism], Kraków, June 1921. Młodożeniec S., Futuro-​gamy i futuro-​pejzaże [Futuro-​Scales and Futuro-​ Landscapes], “Wąkopy,” Warszawa 1934. Młodożeniec S., Kreski i futureski [Lines and Futurettes], Klub Futurystów “Katarynka,” Warszawa 1921. Młodożeniec S., Kwadraty [Squares], Zamojskie Koło Miłośników Książki, Zamość 1925. Młodożeniec S., Utwory poetyckie [Poetic Works], ed. T. Burek, Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, Warszawa 1973. Nuż w bżuhu. 2 jednodńuwka futurystuw [Knife in Stomach. The Second Futurist One-​off], Kraków–​Warszawa, November 1921. Stern A., Anielski cham [Angelic Brute], Biblioteka Nowej Sztuki, Warszawa 1924. Stern A., Futuryzje [Futurettes], “Wszechczas,” Warszawa 1919. Stern A., Nagi człowiek w śródmieściu. Poemat [Naked Man in Town Centre. A Poem], “Wszechczas,” Warszawa 1919. Stern A., Wiersze zebrane [Collected Poems], Vol. 1, ed. A. K. Waśkiewicz, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków–​Wrocław 1985. Stern A., Wiersze zebrane [Collected Poems], Vol. 2, ed. A. K. Waśkiewicz, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków–​Wrocław 1986. Stern A., Wat A., Nieśmiertelny tom futuryz [Immortal Volume of Futurizas], Wydawnictwo “Futur Polski,” Warszawa 1921. “Un dadaïsme polonais?,” Cahiers Dada Surréalisme 2 (1968). Wat A., Poezje zebrane [Collected Poems], eds. A. Micińska, J. Zieliński, Znak, Kraków 1992. Wat A., Wiersze wybrane [Selected Poems], ed. A. Dziadek, Ossolineum, Wrocław 2008. European avant-​garde Dadaism Dada. 113 Gedichte, ed. K. Riha, Verlag Klaus Wagenbach, Berlin 2003. Dada Almanach. Im Au rag des Zentralamts der deutschen Dada-​Bewegung, ed. R. Huelsenbeck, Erich Reiss Verlag, Berlin 1920. DADA. Eine literarische Dokumentation, ed. R. Huelsenbeck, Rowohl Taschenbuch Verlag, Hamburg 1994. The Dada Painters and Poets: An Anthology, ed. R. Motherwell, Wittenborn, Schultz, New York 1951. For Author use only Bibliography 481 Dada. Réimpression intégrale et dossier critique de la revue publiée de 1917 à 1922 par Tristan Tzara, Vol. 1: Réimpression de la revue, ed. M. Sanouillet, Centre du XXe siècle, Nice 1976. DADA total. Manifeste, Aktionen, Texte, Bilder, eds. K. Riha, J. Schäfer, Philipp Reclam jun., Stuttgart 1994. “Manifest dadaistyczny” [Dadaist Manifesto], trans. Z. Klimowiczowa, in Artyści o sztuce. Od Van Gogha do Picassa, eds. E. Grabska, H. Morawska, PWN, Warszawa 1969 (English translation in Dada and beyond: Volume 1, Dada discourses, eds. E. Adamowicz, E. Robertson, Rodopi, Amsterdam 2011). Richter H., Dada –​art et anti-​art, Verlag DuMont Schauberg, Bruxelles 1965. Richter H., Dada –​art and anti-​art, trans. D. Britt, London 1997. Richter H., Dadaizm. Sztuka i antysztuka, trans. J. S. Buras, Wydawnictwa Artystyczne i Filmowe, Warszawa 1983. Tzara T., “Note sur la poésie,” in Sept manifestes dada. Lampisteries, Jean-​Jacques Pauvert, [no place of publication] 1963. Russian Futurism Khlebnikov V., Collected Works of Velimir Khlebnikov, Vol. 1, Letters and Theoretical Writings, trans. P. Schmidt, ed. Ch. Douglas, Cambridge, Massachusetts 1987. Khlebnikov V., Collected Works of Velimir Khlebnikow, Vol. 3, Selected Poems, trans. P. Schmidt, ed. R. Vroon, Cambridge, Massachusetts 1997. Khlebnikov V., “Nasza postawa,” in Włamanie do wszechświata, wybór i przekład A. Kamieńska i J. Śpiewak, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1972 (English translation: “Our Fundamentals,” in V. Khlebnikov, Collected Works, Vol. 1). Khlebnikov V., Poezje [Poems], ed. J. Śpiewak, trans. A. Kamieńska, S. Pollak, J. Śpiewak, PIW, Warszawa 1963. Khlebnikov V., Poezje wybrane [Selected Poems], trans. A. Pomorski, Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, Warszawa 1982. Khlebnikov V., Rybak nad morzem śmierci. Wiersze i teksty 1917–​1922 [Fisherman at the Sea of Death. Poems and Texts 1917–​1922], trans. A. Pomorski, Open, Warszawa 2005. Khlebnikov V., Sobranie sochineniy 1, Vol. 1: Poemy, ed. N. Stepanov, Wilhelm Fink Verlag, München 1968. Khlebnikov V., Sobranie sochineniy 1, Vol. 2: Tvoreniya 1906–​1916, ed. N. Stepanov, Wilhelm Fink Verlag, München 1968. Khlebnikov V., Sobranie sochineniy 2, Vol. 3: Stikhotvoreniya 1917–​1922, ed. N. Stepanov, Wilhelm Fink Verlag, München 1968. For Author use only 482 Bibliography Khlebnikov V., Tvoreniya, eds. M. J. Polakov, W. P. Grigoryev, A. E. Parnis, Moscow 1986. Khlebnikov V., Widziądz widziadeł bezkształtnych. Wiersze i teksty 1904–​1916 [A Collection of Shapeless Visions], trans. A. Pomorski, Open, Warszawa 2005. Khlebnikov V., Włamanie do wszechświata [Break-​in at the Universe], trans. A. Kamieńska, J. Śpiewak, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1972. Kruchenykh A., “Dek laraciya slova kak takovogo,” in Apokalipsis w russkoy literature, MAF, Moskwa 1923. Kruchenykh A., Khlebnikov V., “Słowo kak takowyje,” in Rosyjskie kierunki literackie. Przełom 19 i 20 wieku, eds. Z. Barański, J. Litwinow, PWN, Warszawa 1982. Italian Futurism Depèro F., “L’onomalangue –​Verbalisation abstraite (1916),” in G. Lista, Futurisme. Manifestes –​proclamations –​documents, L’Age d’Homme, Lausanne 1973. Marinetti F. T., “Distruzione della sintassi. Immaginazione senza li. Parole in libertà,” in Zang Tumb Tuuum. Adrianopoli Ottobre 1912. Parole in libertà, Edizioni Futuriste di “Poesia,” Milano 1914. Marinetti F. T., “La splendeur géométrique et mécanique et la sensibilité numerique (1914),” in G. Lista, Futurisme. Manifestes –​proclamations –​docu-​ ments, L’Age d’Homme, Lausanne 1973 (English translation: F. T. Marinetti, “Geometric and Mechanical Splendor and the Numerical Sensibility (March 18, 1914),” in Selected Writings, trans. R. W. Flint, A. A. Coppotelli, Secker & Warburg, London 1972). Marinetti F. T., “Manifeste technique de la Littérature futuriste (1912),” in G. Lista, Futurisme. Manifestes –​proclamations –​documents, L’Age d’Homme, Lausanne 1973 (English translation: F. T. Marinetti, “Technical Manifesto of Futurist Literature (May 11, 1912),” in Selected Writings, trans R. W. Flint, A. A. Coppotelli, Secker & Warburg, London 1972). Marinetti F. T., “Onomatopées et Verbalisation abstraite,” in Les mots en liberté futuristes, Edizioni Futuriste di “Poesia,” Milano 1919. Marinetti F. T., Zang Tumb Tuuum, Edizioni Futuriste di “Poesia,” Milano 1914. Other Polish literary works Young Poland Antologia liryki Młodej Polski [Anthology of Young Poland Lyricism], ed. I. Sikora, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1990. For Author use only Bibliography 483 Dziekoński A., Rzeczy podejrzane [Suspicious Things], Księgarnia F. Hoesicka, Warszawa 1936. Faleński F., O głupim Gawle. Klechda niemądra [On the Foolish Gaweł. A Silly Fable], Redakcja “Świata,” Kraków 1893. Kasprowicz J., Księga ubogich [Book of the Poor], Wydawnictwo Jakuba Mortkowicza, Warszawa 1927. Lemański J., Czyn. Poezje, satyry, piosenki [Action. Poems, Satires, Songs], Księgarnia Polska B. Połonieckiego –​E. Wende i Spółka, Lwów–​ Warszawa 1911. Lemański J., Jasełka [Nativity Plays], Towarzystwo Akcydensowe S. Orgelbranda Synów, Warszawa 1911. Lemański J., Ofiara królewny [The Princess’ Sacrifice], ed. M. Puchalska, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków–​Wrocław 1985. Lemański J., Zwierzyniec [Preserve], Gebethner i Wolff, Warszawa–​Kraków 1912. Miciński T., Poematy prozą [Prose Poems], ed. W. Gutowski, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków–​Wrocław 1985. Nowaczyński A., “Histeryczny Histrion. Szkic do aktu dramatycznego” [Hysterical Histrion. Sketch of a Dramatic Act], in Małpie zwierciadło. Wybór pism satyrycznych, Vol. 1: 1897–​1904, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1974. Nowaczyński A., “Syrena Podhalańska (Ramota)” [Siren from Podhale (Satire)], in Małpie zwierciadło. Wybór pism satyrycznych, Vol. 1: 1897–​1904, Wydawnictwo. Poezja Młodej Polski [Poetry of Young Poland], eds. M. Jastrun, J. Kamionkowa, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1967. Przybyszewski S., Wybór pism [Selected Writings], ed. R. Taborski, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1966. Rolicz-​Lieder W., Wybór poezji [Selected Poems], ed. M. Podraza-​Kwiatkowska, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1962. Staff L., Nie ostrugujcie ryby z oceanu! Wiersze i poematy [Do not Scale the Fish from the Ocean!], ed. A. Pomorski, LIBROS Grupa Wydawnicza Bertelsmann Media, Warszawa 2002. Tetmajer K., Poezje wybrane [Selected Poems], ed. J. Krzyżanowski, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1968. Walewska-​Wielopolska M. J., Faunessy. Powieść dzisiejsza [Faunesses: A Modern Novel], Księgarnia Literacka Karola Kwaśniewskiego w Krakowie /​ Warszawa –​G. Centnerszwer i Ska, Kraków–​Warszawa 1913. For Author use only 484 Bibliography “Low” poetry Antologia polskiej literatury sowiźrzalskiej XVI i XVII wieku [Anthology of Polish Eulenspiegel Poetry of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Century], ed. S. Grzeszczuk, Ossolineum, Wrocław–​Warszawa–​Kraków–​Gdańsk–​Łódź 1985. Cieślikowski J., Wielka zabawa [Great Play], Ossolineum, Wrocław 1985. Czernik S., Chłopskie pisarstwo samorodne [Self-​Bred Peasant Literature], PIW, Warszawa 1954. Czernik S., Poezja chłopów polskich [Poetry of Polish Peasants], Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, Warszawa 1951. Pastorałki i kolendy w czasie świąt Bożego Narodzenia w domach śpiewane [Pastorals and Carols Sung at Homes during Christmas], Kohn i Oderfeld, Częstochowa 1898. Polska fraszka mieszczańska. Minucje sowiźrzalskie [Polish Burgesses’ Epigrams: Eulespiegel Minutiae], ed. K. Badecki, Ossolineum, Kraków 1948. Polskie kolędy ludowe [Polish Folk Carols], ed. J. Bartmiński, Universitas, Kraków 2002. Przyboś J., Jabłoneczka. Antologia polskiej pieśni ludowej [Apple Tree: An Anthology of Polish Folk Songs], PIW, Warszawa 1953. The Kraków Avant-​garde Brzękowski J., “Awangarda. Szkic historyczno-​teoretyczny” [The Avant­-​garde: A Historical and Theoretical Essay], in Wyobraźnia wyzwolona, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1976. Brzękowski J., “Poezja integralna” [Integral Poetry], in Wyobraźnia wyzwolona, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1976. Brzękowski J., Wiersze awangardowe [Avant-​garde Poems], ed. S. Jaworski, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1981. Peiper T., Na przykład. Poemat aktualny [For Example: A Modern Poem], Wydawnictwo “Zwrotnicy,” Kraków 1931. Peiper T., “Nowe usta (Rytm i rym)” [New Lips (Rhythm and Rhyme)], in Pisma wybrane, ed. S. Jaworski, Ossolineum, Wrocław–​Warszawa–​Kraków–​ Gdańsk 1979. Peiper T., Pisma wybrane [Selected Writings], ed. S. Jaworski, Ossolineum, Wrocław–​Warszawa–​Kraków–​Gdańsk 1979. Peiper T., “Tędy (Rytm nowoczesny)” [This Way (Modern Rhyme)], in Pisma wybrane, ed. S. Jaworski, Ossolineum, Wrocław–​Warszawa–​Kraków–​Gdańsk 1979 (originally published in Kwadryga 3–​4 [December 1929 –​January 1930]). For Author use only Bibliography 485 Przyboś J., “O rymie” [On Rhyme], in Najmniej słów, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1955. Przyboś J., “O słuchu poetyckim” [On Poetic Hearing], in Najmniej słów, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1955. Przyboś J., “Pradawny wiersz” [A Very Old Poem], in Sens poetycki, Vol. 1, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1967. Przyboś J., Równanie serca [Equation of the Heart], Księgarnia F. Hoesicka, Warszawa 1938. Przyboś J., Sytuacje liryczne. Wybór poezji [Lyrical Situations: Selected Poems], eds. E. Balcerzan, A. Legeżyńska, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1989. Przyboś J., W głąb las [Forest Further Ahead], Biblioteka “a. r.,” Cieszyn 1932. Linguistic poetry Balcerzan E., Morze, pergamin i ty [Sea, Parchment and You], Wydawnictwo Poznańskie, Poznań 1960. Białoszewski M., Utwory zebrane [Collected Works], Vol. 1, PIW, Warszawa 1987. Bieńkowski Z., “Wstęp do poetyki” [Introduction to Poetics], in Trzy poematy, PIW, Warszawa 1959. Karpowicz T., W imię znaczenia [In the Name of Meaning], Ossolineum, Wrocław 1962. Wirpsza W., Drugi opór [Second Resistance], Czytelnik, Warszawa 1965. Neo-​linguism Cecko M., Cyranowicz M., Kasprzak M., Lipszyc J., Mueller J., “Manifest Neolingwistyczny v. 1.1” [The Neo-​Linguistic Manifesto v. 1.1], Ha!art 3–​4 (2003). Lipszyc J., Poczytalnia [Sane Reading Room], Lampa i Iskra Boża, Warszawa 2000. Mueller J., Somnabóle fantomowe [Phantom Somatic Sleep Pains], Zielona Sowa, Kraków 2003. Varia Antologia poezji dziecięcej [Anthology of Childrens’ Poetry], eds. J. Cieślikowski, G. Frydrychowicz, P. Matuszewska, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1981. Baka J., Poezje [Poems], eds. A. Czyż, A. Nawarecki, PIW, Warszawa 1986. Kolce. Kartki Humorystyczno-​Satyryczne 2 [Spikes. Satirical Pages] (1871), 78. Online: http://​ebuw.uw.edu.pl/​dli​bra/​publ​icat​ion/​183​100?tab=​1 (accessed 29 June 2016). For Author use only 486 Bibliography Miłosz C., A Treatise on Poetry, in New and Collected Poems: 1931–​2001, New York 2001, Polscy poeci od średniowiecza do baroku [Polish Poets from the Middle Ages to Baroque], ed. K. Żukowska, PIW, Warszawa 1977. Schulz B., “Sklepy cynamonowe” [Cinnamon Shops], in Opowiadania, PAVO, Warszawa 1995. Słonimski A., Tuwim J., W oparach absurdu [In Fumes of Absurdity], Omnipress, Warszawa 1991. Tuwim J., Bal w Operze [Ball at the Opera], Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1999. Tuwim J., Jarmark rymów [Rhythm Fair], ed. J. Stradecki, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1991. Tuwim J., Wiersze [Poems], Vol. 1, ed. A. Kowalczykowa, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1986. Tuwim J., Wiersze wybrane [Selected Poems], ed. M. Głowiński, Wrocław 1986. Other non-​Polish works Antologia nowoczesnej poezji rosyjskiej 1880–​1967 [Anthology of Modern Russian Poetry 1880–​1967], Vol. 1, eds. W. Dąbrowski, A. Mandalian, W. Woroszylski, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1971. Barańczak S., Fioletowa krowa. Antologia angielskiej i amerykańskiej poezji niepoważnej [Purple Cow. Anthology of English and American Silly Poetry], a5 , Poznań 1993. Ivanov V. I., Prozracznost’/​ Durchsichtigkeit, Nachdruk der Moskauer Ausgabe von 1904 mit einer Einleitung von J. Holthusen, Wilhelm Fink Verlag, München 1967. Stein G., Three Lives, Penguin Books, Harmondsworth 1985. Symboliści francuscy (Od Baudelaire’a do Valéry’ego) [French Symbolists from Baudelaire to Valéry], eds. M. Jastrun, J. Kamionkowa, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1965. Secondary sources Discussions of Polish Futurism Baczyński S., Syty Paraklet i głodny Prometeusz (najmłodsza polska), Wydawnictwo “Czartak,” Kraków–​Warszawa [undated]. For Author use only Bibliography 487 Balcerzan E., “Bruno Jasieński a Włodzimierz Majakowski,” in O wzajemnych powiązaniach literackich polsko-​rosyjskich, eds. S. Fiszman, K. Sierocka, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1969. Balcerzan E., “Futuryzm,” in Literatura polska w okresie międzywojennym, Vol. 1, eds. J. Kądziela, J. Kwiatkowski, I. Wyczańska, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1979. Balcerzan E., Styl i poetyka twórczości dwujęzycznej Brunona Jasieńskiego, Ossolineum, Wrocław–​Warszawa–​Kraków 1968. Balcerzan E., “Wstęp,” in B. Jasieński, Utwory poetyckie, manifesty, szkice, ed. E. Balcerzan, Ossolineum, Wrocław–​Warszawa–​Kraków–​Gdańsk 1972. Baluch A., “Wstęp,” in T. Czyżewski, Poezje i próby dramatyczne, ed. A. Baluch, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1992. Baranowska M., “Prymitywizm prowokowany (Stern),” in Surrealna wyobraźnia i poezja, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1984. Baranowska M., “Trans czytającego młodzieńca wieku (Wat),” in Surrealna wyobraźnia i poezja, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1984. Baranowska M., “Transfiguracje przestrzeni w twórczości Aleksandra Wata,” inb Przestrzeń i literatura. Studia, eds. M. Głowiński, A. Okopień-​Sławińska, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1978. Barańczak S., “Trzy złudzenia i trzy rozczarowania polskiego futuryzmu,” in Etyka i poetyka. Szkice 1970–​1978, Instytut Literacki, Paryż 1979. Baron-​Milian M., “YY. Kryptonimy Jerzego Jankowskiego,” Przestrzenie Teorii 34/​ 2020, 35–​74. Bieńkowski Z., “Izmy tamtego dwudziestolecia,” in Poezja i niepoezja, PIW, Warszawa 1967. Bolecki W., “Od ‘postmodernizmu’ do ‘modernizmu’ (Wat –​inne doświadczenie),” Teksty Drugie 2 (2001). Bolecki W., “Od potworów do znaków pustych. Z dziejów groteski: Młoda Polska i dwudziestolecie międzywojenne,” Pamiętnik Literacki 1 (1989) (or in W. Bolecki, Preteksty i teksty. Z zagadnień związków tekstowych w literaturze polskiej XX wieku, PWN, Warszawa 1998). Bolecki W., “Regresywny futurysta,” in Polowanie na postmodernistów (w Polsce), Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1999 (or in W. Bolecki, Bezrobotny Lucyfer i inne opowieści, eds. W. Bolecki, J. Zieliński, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1993). Burek T., “Futuryzm,” in Lektury i problemy, ed. J. Maciejewski, Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, Warszawa 1976. Burek T., “Sztandar futuryzmu na chłopskim wąkopie albo o poezji Stanisława Młodożeńca,” in S. Młodożeniec, Utwory poetyckie, ed. T. Burek, Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, Warszawa 1973. For Author use only 488 Bibliography Burkot S., Stanisław Młodożeniec. Rzecz o chłopskim futuryście, Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, Warszawa 1985. Brzozowski T., “O filmowo-​onirycznym modelu poezji w dwudziestoleciu,” in Oniryczne tematy i konwencje w literaturze polskiej XX wieku, eds. I. Glatzel, J. Smulski, A. Sobolewska, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Mikołaja Kopernika, Toruń 1999. Carpenter B., The Poetic Avant-​Garde in Poland 1918–​1939, University of Washington Press, Seattle–​London 1983. Cyranowicz M., “Sursecesyjne ruiny Wata (próba reinterpretacji ‘Piecyka’),” in W “antykwariacie anielskich ekstrawagancji.” O twórczości Aleksandra Wata, eds. J. Borowski, W. Panas, Wydawnictwo KUL, Lublin 2002. Delaperrière M., Polskie awangardy a poezja europejska. Studium wyobraźni poetyckiej, trans. A. Dziadek, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Śląskiego, Katowice 2004. Dubowik H., “Motywy nadrealistyczne u futurystów i formistów,” in Nadrealizm w polskiej literaturze współczesnej, Bydgoskie Towarzystwo Naukowe, Prace Wydziału Nauk Humanistycznych, series B, No. 5, PWN, Poznań–​ Bydgoszcz 1971. Dziadek A., “Wstęp,” in A. Wat, Wiersze wybrane, ed. A. Dziadek, Ossolineum, Wrocław 2008. Dziarnowska J., Słowo o Brunonie Jasieńskim, Książka i Wiedza, Warszawa 1978. Eberharter M., Der poetische Formismus Tytus Czyżewskis. Ein literarischer Ansatz der frühen polnischen Avantgarde und sein mitteleuropäischer Kontext, Verlag Otto Sagner, München 2004. Gazda G., “Funkcja artystyczna pastorałek w twórczości Tytusa Czyżewskiego i Jerzego Harasymowicza,” in Literatura i metodologia, ed. J. Trzynadlowski, Ossolineum, Wrocław–​Warszawa–​Kraków 1970. Gazda G., “Funkcja prymitywu i egzotyki w literaturze międzywojennej,” in Problemy literatury polskiej lat 1890–​1939, S. 1, eds. H. Kirchner, Z. Żabicki, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1972. Gazda G., Futuryzm w Polsce, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1974. Gazda G., “Poezja walką (Z problemów poetyki ‘Ziemi na lewo’ i ‘Trzech salw’),” Zeszyty Naukowe Uniwersytetu Łódzkiego. Nauki Humanistyczno-​Społeczne, S. 1, Vol. 2, Łódź 1975. Goriély B., “L’avant-​garde littéraire en Pologne,” Cahiers Dada Surréalisme 2 (1968). Graf M., Graf P., “ ‘A usta znów rozluźniają się do słów okaleczałych’ –​ namopaniki Aleksandra Wata (recepcja, język, interpretacja),” Poznańskie Studia Polonistyczne. Seria Językoznawcza 21.41 (2014). Online: http://​pres​sto. amu.edu.pl/​index.php/​pspsj/​arti​cle/​view/​195/​137 (accessed 29 June 2016). For Author use only Bibliography 489 Irzykowski K., “Dadanaizm,” in Słoń wśród porcelany, Towarzystwo Wydawnicze “Rój,” Warszawa 1934. Irzykowski K., “Futuryzm a szachy,” in Słoń wśród porcelany. Lżejszy kaliber, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1976 (originally printed in Ponowa 1 [1921] and reprinted in Kurier Lwowski 109 [1921]). Irzykowski K., “Na Giewoncie formizmu,” in Słoń wśród porcelany, Towarzystwo Wydawnicze “Rój,” Warszawa 1934. Jarosiński Z., “Futuryzm,” in Słownik literatury polskiej XX wieku, eds. A. Brodzka et al., Ossolineum, Wrocław 1992. Jarosiński Z., Postacie poezji, Wiedza Powszechna, Warszawa 1985. Jarosiński Z., “Wstęp,” in Antologia polskiego futuryzmu i Nowej Sztuki, ed. H. Zaworska, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1978. Jaworski K., Kronika polskiego futuryzmu, Kielce 2015. Kowalczykowa A., “O pewnych paradoksach futurystycznego programu,” Poezja 6 (1969). Kurek J., Mój Kraków, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1978. Kuźma E., “Przestrzeń w poezji awangardowej a spójność tekstu,” in Przestrzeń i literatura, eds. M. Głowiński, A. Okopień-​Sławińska, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1978. Kwiatkowski J., Dwudziestolecie międzywojenne, PWN, Warszawa 2000. Lam A., “Awangarda poetycka wczoraj i dziś,” in Z teorii i praktyki awangardyzmu, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Warszawskiego, Warszawa 1976. Lam A., Polska awangarda poetycka. Programy lat 1917–​1923, Vol. 1: Instynkt i ład, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1969. Lee S. R., Trudne przymierze. Polska awangarda poetycka w kręgu idei lewicy (1918–​1939), PIW, Warszawa 1982. Lipski J. J., “O poezji Tytusa Czyżewskiego,” Twórczość 6 (1960). Lipski J. J., “Tytus Czyżewski,” in Literatura polska w okresie międzywojennym, Vol. 3, eds. I. Maciejewska, J. Trznadel, M. Pokrasenowa, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1993. Majerski P., Anarchia i formuły. Problemy twórczości poetyckiej Anatola Sterna, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Śląskiego, Katowice 2001. Majerski P., “Jerzy Jankowski i symbolistyczna autodestrukcja. O zapomnianym epizodzie wileńskiej poezji,” in Odmiany awangardy, EGO, Katowice 2001. Majerski P., “Sytuacja futuryzmu polskiego po przełomie październikowym (na marginesie sporu Anatola Sterna z Antonim Słonimskim),” in Odmiany awangardy, EGO, Katowice 2001 (or in Przełomy: rok 1956. Studia i szkice o polskiej literaturze współczesnej, eds. W. Wójcik, M. Kisiela, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Śląskiego, Katowice 1996). For Author use only 490 Bibliography Majerski P., “ ‘Widzenie rzeczy.’ O języku (w) poezji Anatola Sterna,” in Odmiany awangardy, EGO, Katowice 2001. Miller J. N., “Harmonja dźwiękowa w poezji najnowszej,” Ponowa 3 (1921). Miłosz Cz., “O wierszach Aleksandra Wata,” in Prywatne obowiązki, Instytut Literacki, Paryż 1972. Okopień-​Sławińska A., “Wiersz awangardowy dwudziestolecia międzywojennego (podstawy, granice, możliwości),” Pamiętnik Literacki 2 (1965). Olejniczak J., W-​Tajemniczanie –​Aleksander Wat, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Śląskiego, Katowice 1999. Ordyńska Z., “Mój flirt z futuryzmem,” in To już prawie sto lat. Pamiętnik aktorki, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1970. Panek S., “Papuas merytoryzmu contra Szkoła Szczekających Bocianów,” in Od tematu do rematu. Przechadzki z Balcerzanem, Wydawnictwo Naukowe Uniwersytetu Adama Mickiewicza, Poznań 2007. Panas W., “ ‘Antykwariat anielskich ekstrawagancji’ albo ‘święty bełkot.’ Rzecz o ‘Piecyku’ Aleksandra Wata,” in W “antykwariacie anielskich ekstrawagancji.” O twórczości Aleksandra Wata, eds. J. Borowski, W. Panas, Wydawnictwo KUL, Lublin 2002. Peiper T., “Futuryzm (analiza i krytyka),” Zwrotnica 6 (1923). Pietruszewska-​Kobiela G., O poezji Anatola Sterna, Wydawnictwo Wyższej Szkoły Pedagogicznej w Częstochowie, Częstochowa 1992. Pietrych K., “W chaosie i nicości. O młodzieńczych utworach Aleksandra Wata,” in Pamięć głosów. O twórczości Aleksandra Wata, ed. W. Ligęza, Universitas, Kraków 1992. Płuciennik J., “Awangardowy ‘święty bełkot’ Wata,” in Szkice o poezji Aleksandra Wata, eds. J. Brzozowski, K. Pietrych, Wydawnictwo IBL, Warszawa 1999. Płuciennik J., “Namopanik,” Zagadnienia Rodzajów Literackich 1–​2 (2000) (or in Słownik rodzajów i gatunków literackich, eds. G. Gazda, S. Tynecka-​Makowska, Universitas, Kraków 2006). Pollakówna J., “Spełnienie dwoiste,” Poezja 1 (1969). Pollakówna J., Tytus Czyżewski, Ruch, Warszawa 1971. Pollakówna J., “Tytus Czyżewski –​formista,” in Z zagadnień plastyki polskiej w latach 1918–​1939, ed. J. Starzyński, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1963. Prokop J., “Uwagi o poezji Anatola Sterna,” Poezja 10 (1969). Prokop J., Z przemian w literaturze polskiej lat 1907–​1917, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1970. Rawiński M., “ ‘Słowo o Jakubie Szeli’ Brunona Jasieńskiego wobec folkloru,” Pamiętnik Literacki 1 (1971). For Author use only Bibliography 491 Rawiński M., “U genezy wczesnej twórczości poetyckiej Brunona Jasieńskiego,” in O wzajemnych powiązaniach literackich polsko-​rosyjskich, eds. S. Fiszman, K. Sierocka, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1969. Ratajczak D., “Próby dramatyczne Tytusa Czyżewskiego,” Dialog 2 (1968). Skubalanka T., “Polska poezja futurystyczna w oczach językoznawcy,” Przegląd Humanistyczny 5 (1979). Sławiński J., Koncepcja języka poetyckiego Awangardy Krakowskiej, ed. W. Bolecki, Universitas, Kraków 1998 (first edition: Ossolineum, Wrocław 1965). Sławiński J., “O poezji Jana Brzękowskiego,” in Przypadki poezji. Pisma wybrane, Vol. 5, ed. W. Bolecki, Universitas, Kraków 2001 (or in Twórczość 9 [1961]). Sławiński J., “Poezje Młodożeńca,” in Przypadki poezji. Pisma wybrane Vol. 5, ed. W. Bolecki, Universitas, Kraków 2001 (or in Twórczość 5 [1959]). Smaga A., Formizm w poezji Tytusa Czyżewskiego, Wydawnictwo UKSW, Warszawa 2010. Sobieraj S., Laboratorium awangardy. O twórczości literackiej Tytusa Czyżewskiego, Wydawnictwo Akademii Podlaskiej, Siedlce 2009. Sobieraj S., “Zapoznane felietony Tytusa Czyżewskiego,” Ruch Literacki 3 (2005). Stern A., “Futuryści polscy i inni,” in Poezja zbuntowana, PIW, Warszawa 1964. Stern A., “O poetach Nowej Sztuki (list do redaktora ‘Almanachu’),” in Głód jednoznaczności i inne szkice, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1972. Stern A., “Zwierzęta w klatce (o polskim futuryzmie),” in Głód jednoznaczności i inne szkice, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1972. Sterna-​Wachowiak S., Miąższ zakazanych owoców. Jankowski –​Jasieński –​ Grędziński (szkice o futuryzmie), Pomorze, Bydgoszcz 1985. Śniecikowska B., “Foniczne meandry purnonsensu –​o poezji polskiego futuryzmu i europejskiego dada,” in Odcienie humoru, A. Kwiatkowska, Piotrków Trybunalski 2008. Śniecikowska B., “Poetic Experiments in Polish Futurism: Imitative, Eclectic or Original?,” International Yearbook of Futurism Studies, Vol. 2, ed. G. Berghaus, De Gruyter, Berlin–​Boston 2012. Śniecikowska B., “Religious Traces within Polish Futurism: Entangled Ways of the Sacred,” International Yearbook of Futurism Studies 11 (2021). Trzynadlowski J., “Futuryzm polski,” in Futuryzm i jego warianty w literaturze europejskiej, ed. J. Heistein, Wydawnictwa Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, Wrocław 1977. Venclova T., Aleksander Wat. Obrazoburca, trans. J. Goślicki, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1997. Waśkiewicz A. K., “Czasopisma i publikacje zbiorowe polskich futurystów,” Pamiętnik Literacki 1 (1983). For Author use only 492 Bibliography Waśkiewicz A. K., “Dodatek krytyczny,” in A. Stern, Wiersze zebrane, Vol. 2, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków–​Wrocław 1986. Waśkiewicz A. K., “ ‘Irrealna gwiazda.’ O poezji Anatola Sterna,” Pamiętnik Literacki 4 (1979). Waśkiewicz A. K., “Kazimierz Brzeski i ‘Katarynka Warszawska’ (o peryferiach polskiego futuryzmu),” in W kręgu futuryzmu i awangardy. Studia i szkice, ATUT, Wrocław 2003. Waśkiewicz A. K., “Wstęp,” in A. Stern, Wiersze zebrane, Vol. 1, ed. A. K. Waśkiewicz, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków–​Wrocław 1986. Wat A., Mój wiek. Pamiętnik mówiony, part 1, interviews by Cz. Miłosz, ed. L. Ciołkoszowa, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1990. Wat A., “Wspomnienia o polskim futuryzmie,” Miesięcznik Literacki 2 (1930). Ważyk A., Dziwna historia awangardy, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1976. Ważyk A., Kwestia gustu, PIW, Warszawa 1966. Witkiewicz S. I., “Aleksander Wat,” in Bez kompromisu. Pisma krytyczne i publicystyczne, ed. J. Degler, PIW, Warszawa 1976. Witkiewicz S. I., “O skutkach działalności naszych futurystów,” in Bez kompromisu. Pisma krytyczne i publicystyczne, ed. J. Degler, PIW, Warszawa 1976. Witkiewicz S. I., “Parę zarzutów przeciw futuryzmowi,” in Bez kompromisu. Pisma krytyczne i publicystyczne, ed. J. Degler, Warszawa 1976. Wyka K., “Czyżewski –​poeta,” in Rzecz wyobraźni, PIW, Warszawa 1977. Wyka K., “Dwa skrzydła poezji Anatola Sterna,” in Rzecz wyobraźni, PIW, Warszawa 1977. Wyka K., “ ‘Pastorałki’ Czyżewskiego,” in Rzecz wyobraźni, PIW, Warszawa 1977 (first printed in Głos Plastyków 8 [December 1947]). Wyka K., “ ‘Z lawy metafor’,” in Rzecz wyobraźni, PIW, Warszawa 1977. Wyka M., “Tytus Czyżewski,” Twórczość 1 (1978). Zaworska H., “Futurystyczne koncepcje sztuki dla mas,” Pamiętnik Literacki 3 (1967). Zaworska H., “Nurt ‘Nowej Sztuki’,” in Literatura polska 1918–​1975, Vol. 1, eds. A. Brodzka, H. Zaworska, S. Żółkiewski, Wiedza Powszechna, Warszawa 1975. Zaworska H., O nową sztukę. Polskie programy artystyczne lat 1917–​1922, PIW, Warszawa 1963. Zaworska H., “Przemiany polskiego futuryzmu,” in Literatura polska 1918–​1975, Vol. 1, eds. A. Brodzka, H. Zaworska, S. Żółkiewski, Wiedza Powszechna, Warszawa 1975. For Author use only Bibliography 493 Żrałko D., “Inspiracje folklorem w twórczości artystów awangardowych na przykładzie ‘Pastorałek’ Tytusa Czyżewskiego z drzeworytami Tadeusza Makowskiego,” Literatura Ludowa 1 (2001). Discussions of European avant-​gardes Dadaism Baranowska M., “Dadaizm,” in Słownik literatury polskiej XX wieku, eds. A. Brodzka et al., Ossolineum, Wrocław 1992. Béhar H., “A mots découverts,” Europe 555–​556 (1975). Bersani J., “Arp et la poésie,” Cahiers Dada Surréalisme 2 (1968). Bigsby Ch.W.E., Dada and Surrealism, Methuen, London 1972. Bojtár E., “Awangarda wschodnioeuropejska jako kierunek literacki (I),” trans. J. Walicka, Miesięcznik Literacki 11 (1973). Caws M. A., Poetry of Dada and Surrealism: Aragon, Breton, Tzara, Eluard & Desnos, Princeton University Press, Princeton, New Jersey 1970. Coutts-​Smith K., Dada, Studio Vista /​Dutton Pictureback, London-​ New York 1970. Döhl R., “Unsinn der Kunst gegen Wahnsinn der Zeit,” Text +​Kritik 92 (1986). Elderfield J., Kurt Schwitters, Thames and Hudson, London 1987. Forster L., Poetry of Significant Nonsense, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge 1962. Grübel R., “Hans /​Jean Arp und die russische Avantgarde,” Text +​Kritik 92 (1986). Heissenbüttel H., “Versuch über die Lautsonate von Kurt Schwitters,” Akademie der Wissenschaften und der Literatur, Abhandlungen der Klasse der Literatur 6 (1983), Franz Steiner Verlag, Mainz–​Wiesbaden 1983. http://​www.jac​kox.net/​pages/​Urson​ate/​ur_​MA​INin​dex.html (accessed 26 September 2014). http://​www.jac​kox.net/​pages/​Urson​ate/​UrPer​form​ance​Proj​ect.html (accessed 26 September 2014). Huelsenbeck R., “Einleitung,” in Dada Almanach. Im Au rag des Zentralamts der deutschen Dada-​Bewegung, ed. R. Huelsenbeck, Erich Reiss Verlag, Berlin 1920. Hugnet G., L’aventure Dada (1916–​1922), Seghers [n.p.] 1971. Janco M., “Creative Dada /​Schöpferischer Dada /​Dada Créateur,” in Dada. Monograph of a Movement /​Monographie einer Bewegung /​Monographie d’un mouvement, eds. W. Verkauf, A. Niggli, Teufen [no date of publication]. For Author use only 494 Bibliography Klein R., Blaukopf K., “Dada and Music /​Dada in der Music /​Dada et la Musique,” in Dada. Monograph of a Movement /​Monographie einer Bewegung /​ Monographie d’un mouvement, eds. W. Verkauf, A. Niggli, Teufen [n.d.]. Kreitler H., “The Psychology of Dadaism /​Die Psychologie des Dadaismus /​La Psychologie du Dadaïsme,” in Dada. Monograph of a Movement /​Monographie einer Bewegung /​Monographie d’un mouvement, eds. W. Verkauf, A. Niggli, Teufen [n.d.]. Kupczyńska K., “Kakofonia wielkiego miasta,” Tygiel Kultury 7–​9 (2005). Lehnert H., “Nihilismus, Anarchismus, DADA und das Ende der bürglichen Kunst,” in Geschichte der deutschen Literatur vom Jugendstil bis zum Expressionismus, Philipp Reclam jun., Stuttgart 1996. Philipp E., Dadaismus, Wilhelm Fink Verlag, München 1980. Richter H., Dadaizm. Sztuka i antysztuka, trans. J. S. Buras, Wydawnictwa Artystyczne i Filmowe, Warszawa 1983. Scheffer B., “Als die Wörter laufen lernten,” Text +​Kritik 35–​36 (1972). Scheffer B., Anfänge experimenteller Literatur. Das literarische Werk von Kurt Schwitters, Bouvier Verlag Herbert Grundmann, Bonn 1978. Scheffer B., “Schönes Verständliches, Unverständliches,” Text +​Kritik 92 (1986). Schuldt H., “Lautgestaltung,” Text +​Kritik 35–​36 (1972). Tison-​Braun M., Dada et le Surréalisme, Bordas, Paris 1973. Verkauf W., “Dada –​Cause and Effect /​Ursache und Wirkung des Dadaismus /​ Dada –​Cause et Effet,” in Dada. Monograph of a Movement /​Monographie einer Bewegung /​Monographie d’un mouvement, eds. Verkauf, A. Niggli, Teufen [n. d.]. Zaworska H., “Przygoda jednego pokolenia,” Twórczość 2 (1962). Russian Futurism Balcerzan E., “Jak bolał ‘Policzek powszechnemu gustowi’,” in Oprócz głosu, PIW, Warszawa 1971. Barański Z., “Futuryzm w Rosji,” in Futuryzm i jego warianty w literaturze europejskiej, ed. J. Heistein, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, Wrocław 1977. Barooshian V. D., Russian Cubo-​Futurism 1910–​1930: A Study in Avant-​Gardism, Mouton, The Hague–​Paris 1974. Bieńkowski Z., “Interwencja w świat czy obrona przed światem?,” in Poezja i niepoezja, PIW, Warszawa 1967. Cooke R., Velimir Khlebnikov: A Critical Study, Cambridge 2003. Drawicz A., “Chlebnikow –​mundi constructor,” in Zaproszenie do podróży. Szkice o literaturze rosyjskiej XX wieku, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1974. For Author use only Bibliography 495 Fauchereau S., “Du futurisme russe,” Europe 522 (1975). Lönnqvist B., “Polysemy and Puzzle in Modernism –​Velimir Chlebnikov,” in The Slavic Literatures and Modernism: A Nobel Symposium, August 5–​8 1985, ed. N. Å. Nilsson, Almqvist & Wiksell International, Stockholm 1987. Lönnqvist B., “Sztuka jako zabawa w futuryzmie,” trans. A. Pomorski, Literatura na Świecie 2 (1984). Lönnqvist B., Xlebnikov and Carnival, Almqvist & Wiksell International, Stockholm–​Uppsala 1979. Markov V., The Longer Poems of Velemir Khlebnikov, University of California Press, Berkeley–​Los Angeles 1962. Nilsson N. Å., “How to Translate Avant-​Garde Poetry. Some Attempts with Xlebnikov’s ‘Incantation by Laughter’,” in Velimir Chlebnikov. A Stockholm Symposium, ed. N. Å. Nilsson, Almqvist & Wiksell International, Stockholm 1985. Perloff M., “Krajobrazy dźwiękowe Chlebnikowa: litera, liczba i poetyka ‘zaumu’,” in Modernizm XXI wieku. “Nowe” poetyki, trans. K. Bartczak, T. Cieślak-​ Sokołowski, Universitas, Kraków 2012. Percova N., Słowar nieołogizmow Wielimira Chlebnikowa, Wiener Slawischer Almanach, Sonderband 40, Wien–​Moskau 1995. Pollak S., “ ‘Izmy’ i ‘schizmy’,” in Wyprawy za trzy morza, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1962. Pollak S., Niepokoje poetów, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1972. Pollak S., “O twórczości przekładowej Tuwima,” in Wyprawy za trzy morza, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1962. Pomorska K., Russian Formalist Theory and Its Poetic Ambiance, Mouton, The Hague–​Paris 1968. Pomorski A., “Nota biograficzna,” in W. Chlebnikow, Poezje wybrane, trans. A. Pomorski, Warszawa 1982. Pomorski A., “Wstęp,” in W. Chlebnikow, Poezje wybrane, trans. A. Pomorski, Warszawa 1982. Prosnak H., Koncepcja “języka” w ujęciu Wielimira Chlebnikowa, Łódź 1986, manuscript. Siedakowa O., “Obraz fonemu w ‘Słowie o El’ Wielimira Chlebnikowa,” trans. A. Tanalska, Literatura na Świecie 2 (1984). Stepanov N., “Tvorchestvo Velimira Khlebnikova,” in V. V. Khlebnikov, Sobranie sochineniy 1, Vol. 1, Poemy, ed. N. Stepanov, München 1968. Stepanov N., Velimir Khlebnikov. Zhizn i tvorchestvo, Sovetskiy Pisatel, Moskva 1975. For Author use only 496 Bibliography Śpiewak J., “Posłowie,” in W. Chlebnikow, Włamanie do wszechświata, trans. A. Kamieńska, J. Śpiewak, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1972. Śpiewak J., “Wstęp,” in W. Chlebnikow, Poezje, trans. A. Kamieńska, S. Pollak, J. Śpiewak, PIW, Warszawa 1963. Tynianow J., “O Chlebnikowie,” trans. J. Lenarczyk, in Fakt literacki, ed. E. Korpała-​Kirszak, PIW, Warszawa 1978. Vroon R., Velemir Xlebnikov’s Shorter Poems: A Key to the Coinages, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor 1983. Italian Futurism Grabowski I., “Najnowsze prądy w literaturze europejskiej. Futuryzm [cz. 1],” Świat 40 (2 October 1909). Grabowski I., “Najnowsze prądy w literaturze europejskiej. Futuryzm [cz. 2],” Świat 41 (9 October 1909). Gurgul M., “Echa włoskiego futuryzmu w prasie polskiej w latach 1909–​1939,” in Echa włoskie w prasie polskiej (1860–​1939). Szkice biograficzne, Universitas, Kraków 2006. Heistein J., “Futuryzm we Włoszech,” in Futuryzm i jego warianty w literaturze europejskiej, ed. J. Heistein, Wydawnictwa Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, Wrocław 1977. Heistein J., Historia literatury włoskiej. Zarys, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1979. Kurek J., “Romantyk futuryzmu,” in Chora fontanna (wiersze futurystów włoskich), trans. J. Kurek, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1977 (first published in Ruch Literacki 3 [1968]). Miczka T., Czas przyszły niedokonany. O włoskiej sztuce futurystycznej, Uniwersytet Śląski, Katowice 1988. Perloff M., The Futurist Moment. Avant-​Garde, Avant Guerre, and the Language of Rupture, The University of Chicago Press, Chicago–​London 1986. Strożek P., “Futurismo 100! Rovereto.” Online: http://​obie.g.pl/​prez​enta​cje/​11881 (accessed 4 October 2014). Strożek P., Marinetti i futuryzm w Polsce 1909–​1939. Obecność –​kontakty –​ wydarzenia, Instytut Sztuki PAN, Warszawa 2012. Ugniewska J., Historia literatury włoskiej XX wieku, PWN, Warszawa 1985. Webster M., Reading Visual Poetry after Futurism. Marinetti, Apollinaire, Schwitters, Cummings, New York 1995. Żurawska-​Citarelli J., “Pierwsze reakcje na futuryzm włoski w Polsce,” Przegląd Humanistyczny 9 (1977). For Author use only Bibliography 497 Varia Baranowska M., “Sen,” in Surrealna wyobraźnia i poezja, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1984. Berghaus G., “Futurism, Dada and Surrealism: Some Cross-​Fertilisations among the Historical Avant-​gardes,” in International Futurism in Arts and Literature, ed. G. Berghaus, Walter de Gruyter, Berlin–​New York 2000. Delaperrière M., “Czy istnieje poezja kubistyczna?,” Ruch Literacki 4 (1984). Gazda G., Awangarda –​nowoczesność i tradycja, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Łódzkiego, Łódź 1986. Heistein J., “Décadentisme, symbolisme, avant-​garde dans les littératures européennes. Recueil d’études,” in Acta Universitatis Wratislaviensis 1019, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego /​Libraire –​Éditions A. G. Nizet, Wrocław–​Paris 1987. Heistein J., Le futurisme et les avant-​gardes en littérature. L’apport de la Pologne, PWN, Warszawa 1979. Heistein J., Wprowadzenie do literaturoznawstwa porównawczego. Literatura awangardowa w świetle badań porównawczych, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, Wrocław 1990. http://​sjp.pwn.pl/​szu​kaj/​tram.html (accessed 29 June 2016). Janicka K., Surrealizm, Wydawnictwa Artystyczne i Filmowe, Warszawa 1985. Janicka K., Światopogląd surrealizmu, PWN, Warszawa 1969. Jarosiński Z., Postacie poezji, Wiedza Powszechna, Warszawa 1985. Jaworski S., “Poetyka surrealizmu, cz. 1,” Ruch Literacki 3 (1974). Jaworski S., “Poetyka surrealizmu, cz. 2,” Ruch Literacki 5 (1974). Koschany R., Przypadek. Kategoria egzystencjalna i artystyczna w literaturze i filmie, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, Wrocław 2006. Kuźma E., “Nurty awangardowe wobec mitu Orientu,” in Mit Orientu i kultury Zachodu w literaturze XIX i XX wieku, Wydawnictwa Naukowe Wyższej Szkoły Pedagogicznej w Szczecinie, Szczecin 1980. Paris –​Berlin 1900–​1933, Prestel, München 1979. Perloff M., “Różnicująca składnia Gertrudy Stein,” in Modernizm XXI wieku. “Nowe” poetyki, trans. K. Bartczak, T. Cieślak-​Sokołowski, Universitas, Kraków 2012. Perloff M., “Gertrude Stein’s Differential Syntax,” in 21st-​Century Modernism; The ‘New’ Poetics, Malden, Mass. 2002. Pomorska K., “Literatura a teoria literatury (szkoły poetyckie a teoria literatury na początku XX wieku u Rosjan i Polaków),” in American Contributions to the Fifth International Congress of Slavists –​Sofia 1963, Mouton, The Hague [n. d.]. For Author use only 498 Bibliography Puineuf S. de, “Quicksands of Typography: The Futurist Experience in Central Europe during the 1920s,” in International Yearbook of Futurism Studies, Vol. 1, ed. G. Berghaus, Walter De Gruyter, Berlin–​New York 2011. Stahl E., Anti-​Kunst und Abstraktion in der literarischen Moderne (1909–​1933). Vom italienischen Futurismus bis zum französischen Surrealismus, Peter Lang, Frankfurt am Main 1997. Ważyk A., Od Rimbauda do Eluarda, PIW, Warszawa 1964. Ważyk A., “Przedmowa,” in Surrealizm. Teoria i praktyka literacka. Antologia, trans. A. Ważyk, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1973. Ważyk A., Szkice literackie, PIW, Warszawa 1982. Vom Klang der Bilder. Die Musik in der Kunst des 20. Jahrhunderts, ed. K. von Maur, Prestel, München 1985. Works on Symbolist and Young Poland literature Barański Z., “Symbolizm,” in Historia literatury rosyjskiej, Vol. 2, ed. M. Jakóbiec, PWN, Warszawa 1976. Bolecki W., “Od potworów do znaków pustych. Z dziejów groteski: Młoda Polska i dwudziestolecie międzywojenne,” Pamiętnik Literacki 1 (1989). Borowy W., “Rytmika prozy Żeromskiego,” in O Żeromskim. Rozprawy i szkice, PIW, Warszawa 1960. Głowiński M., “Literackość muzyki –​muzyczność literatury,” in Głowiński M., in Narracje literackie i nieliterackie. Prace wybrane, Vol. 2, Kraków 1997 (or in Pogranicza i korespondencje sztuk, eds. T. Cieślikowska, J. Sławiński, Wrocław 1980; or in M. Głowiński, Poetyka i okolice, PWN, Warszawa 1992; or in Muzyka w literaturze, ed. A. Hejmej, Kraków 2002). Gomulicki J. W., “Wstęp,” in W. Rolicz-​Lieder, Poezje wybrane, ed. J. W. Gomulicki, PIW, Warszawa 1960. Goreń A., “Symbolizm,” in Lektury i problemy, ed. J. Maciejewski, Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, Warszawa 1976. Hutnikiewicz A., Młoda Polska, PWN, Warszawa 1997. Jakubowski J. Z., “Wstęp,” in K. Przerwa-​Tetmajer, Poezje, PIW, Warszawa 1974. Januszewicz M., “Poemat Wacława Rolicz-​Liedera ‘Gdy dzwonki szwajcarskie’ przykładem ‘poetyckiej symfonii’,” in Genologia i konteksty, ed. Cz. P. Dutka, Wydawnictwo Wyższej Szkoły Pedagogicznej im. Tadeusza Kotarbińskiego w Zielonej Górze, Zielona Góra 2000. Jarosiński Z., Postacie poezji, Wiedza Powszechna, Warszawa 1985. Jastrun M., “Wstęp,” in Poezja Młodej Polski, eds. M. Jastrun, J. Kamionkowa, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1967. For Author use only Bibliography 499 Jastrun M., “Wstęp,” in Symboliści francuscy (Od Baudelaire’a do Valéry’ego), eds. M. Jastrun, J. Kamionkowa, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1965. Kierzek P., Muzyka w “Żywych kamieniach” Wacława Berenta, Universitas, Kraków 2004. Kluba A., “Symbolizm w Polsce. Rekonesans,” in Autoteliczność –​referencyjność –​ niewyrażalność. O nowoczesnej poezji polskiej (1918–​1939), Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, Wrocław 2004. Kuźma E., “Mit Orientu w polskim ekspresjonizmie,” in Mit Orientu i kultury Zachodu w literaturze XIX i XX wieku, Wydawnictwa Naukowe Wyższej Szkoły Pedagogicznej w Szczecinie, Szczecin 1980. Kuźma E., “Topika pozaeuropejskich kręgów kultury,” in Słownik literatury polskiej XX wieku, eds. A. Brodzka et al., Ossolineum, Wrocław 1992. Makowiecki A. Z., “Modernizm,” in Lektury i problemy, ed. J. Maciejewski, Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, Warszawa 1976. Markiewicz H., “Młoda Polska i ‘izmy’,” in K. Wyka, Młoda Polska, Vol. 1: Modernizm polski, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1977. Nasiłowska A., “Znaczenie symbolizmu,” in Persona liryczna, Wydawnictwo IBL PAN, Warszawa 2000. Nycz R., Język modernizmu. Prolegomena historycznoliterackie, Leopoldinum, Wrocław 1997. Papierkowski S. K., Bolesław Leśmian. Studium językowe, Wydawnictwo Lubelskie, Lublin 1964. Paszek J., “ ‘Próchno’ –​‘Popioły’ –​‘Pałuba:’ paralela stylistyczna,” in Styl powieści Wacława Berenta, Uniwersytet Śląski, Katowice 1976. Paszek J., “O wieloznaczności w ‘Oziminie’,” in Styl powieści Wacława Berenta, Uniwersytet Śląski, Katowice 1976. Paszek J., Tekst i styl “Popiołów,” Ossolineum /​Wydawnictwo Polskiej Akademii Nauk, Wrocław 1992. Podraza-​Kwiatkowska M., Młodopolskie harmonie i dysonanse, PIW, Warszawa 1969. Podraza-​Kwiatkowska M., “O muzycznej i niemuzycznej koncepcji poezji,” in Somnambulicy –​dekadenci –​herosi, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków–​ Wrocław 1985 (or in Muzyka w literaturze, ed. A. Hejmej, Kraków 2002; first published in Teksty 2 [1980]). Podraza-​Kwiatkowska M., “Przełomowe znaczenie literatury Młodej Polski,” in Muzyka polska a modernizm, ed. J. Ilnicka, Polskie Wydawnictwo Muzyczne, Kraków 1981. Podraza-​Kwiatkowska M., Symbolizm i symbolika w poezji Młodej Polski, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1975. For Author use only 500 Bibliography Podraza-​Kwiatkowska M., Wacław Rolicz-​Lieder, PIW, Warszawa 1966. Pomorski A., “Zaokrąglam horyzont,” in L. Staff, Nie ostrugujcie ryby z oceanu! Wiersze i poematy, ed. A. Pomorski, LIBROS Grupa Wydawnicza Bertelsmann Media, Warszawa 2002. Prokop J., “Młodopolska utopia pozakodowej komunikacji,” Teksty 2 (1976). Skarbowski J., “Muzyczne fascynacje Stanisława Przybyszewskiego,” in Literatura –​muzyka. Zbliżenia i dialogi, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1981. Skarbowski J., “Wacław Rolicz-​Lieder –​poeta muzycznych dzwonów,” in Literatura –​muzyka. Zbliżenia i dialogi, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1981. Sobieska A., Twórczość Leśmiana w kręgu filozoficznej myśli symbolizmu rosyjskiego, Universitas, Kraków 2005. Starzyński J., O romantycznej syntezie sztuk. Delacroix, Chopin, Baudelaire, PIW, Warszawa 1965. Śniecikowska B., “Młodopolska ‘muzyczność’ w futurystycznych uszach, czyli o różnych awangardowych aktualizacjach symbolicznej ‘dźwiękowości’ poezji,” in Młodopolska synteza sztuk, eds. H. Ratuszna, R. Sioma, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Mikołaja Kopernika, Toruń 2010. Tomaszewski M., “Muzyka i literatura,” in Słownik literatury polskiej XIX wieku, eds. J. Bachórz, A. Kowalczykowa, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1991. Walas T., Ku otchłani (dekadentyzm w literaturze polskiej 1890–​1905), Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków–​Wrocław 1986. Wyka K., Młoda Polska, Vol. 1: Modernizm polski, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1977. Studies of folk poetry Bartmiński J., Folklor –​język –​poetyka, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1990. Bartmiński J., “Formy obecności sacrum w folklorze,” in Folklor –​sacrum –​religia, eds. J. Bartmiński, M. Jasińska-​Wojtkowska, Pogranicza /​Instytut Europy Środkowo-​Wschodniej, Lublin 1995. Bartmiński J., O języku folkloru, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1973. Bartmiński J., “O rytualnej funkcji powtórzeń w folklorze,” in Sacrum w literaturze, eds. J. Gotfryd, M. Jasińska-​Wojtkowska, S. Sawicki, Towarzystwo Naukowe KUL, Lublin 1983. Bartmiński J., “Wstęp,” in Polskie kolędy ludowe, ed. J. Bartmiński, Universitas, Kraków 2002. Bogatyriew P., “Pieśń ludowa z funkcjonalnego punktu widzenia,” in Semiotyka kultury ludowej, ed. M. R. Mayenowa, PIW, Warszawa 1979. For Author use only Bibliography 501 Bystroń J. S., Polska pieśń ludowa, Krakówska Spółka Wydawnicza, Kraków [n. d.]. Bystroń J. S., Tematy, które mi odradzano, PIW, Warszawa 1980. Cieślikowski J., Wielka zabawa, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1985. Czernik S., Chłopskie pisarstwo samorodne, PIW, Warszawa 1954. Czernik S., Poezja chłopów polskich, Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, Warszawa 1951. Czernik S., Trzy zorze dziewicze. Wśród zamawiań i zaklęć, Wydawnictwo Łódzkie, Warszawa 1968. Czernik S., Z podglebia, Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, Warszawa 1966. Kapełuś H., “Pieśń dziadowska,” in Słownik rodzajów i gatunków literackich, Universitas, Kraków 2006. Kasjan J. M., “Kompozycja tekstu polskich pieśni ludowych,” in Z pogranicza literatury i sztuk, ed. Z. Mocarska-​Tycowa, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Mikołaja Kopernika, Toruń 1996. Moszyński K., Kultura ludowa Słowian, Vol. 2: Kultura duchowa, part 2, Książka i Wiedza, Warszawa 1968. Niebrzegowska S., “Pętla semantyczna w paradygmacie spójnościowym tekstu,” in Tekst. Problemy teoretyczne, eds. J. Bartmiński, B. Boniecka, Lublin 1998. Pisarkowa K., Wyliczanki polskie, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1975. Podhorski-​Okołów L., “Zagadnienie rymowanek (Reimwörter),” in Prace ofiarowane Kazimierzowi Wóycickiemu, Polski Zakład Drukarsko-​ Introligatorski, Wilno 1937. Simonides D., “Folklor słowny,” in Folklorystyka, part 1, eds. P. Kowalski, T. Smolińska, Wydawnictwa Skryptowe /​Wyższa Szkoła Pedagogiczna im. Powstańców Śląskich w Opolu, Opole 1992 (or in Etnografia Polski. Przemiany kultury ludowej, Vol. 2, eds. M. Biernacka, M. Frankowska, W. Paprocka, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1981). Sulima R., “Czas kolęd,” in Kolędy polskie, eds. J. Bartmiński, R. Sulima, Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, Warszawa 1991. Sulima R., Folklor i literatura, Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, Warszawa 1976. Tatarowski L., “Ludowość w kulturze Młodej Polski. Teksty, znaczenia, wartości,” in Kultura, literatura, folklor, eds. M. Graszewicz, J. Kolbuszewski, Ludowa Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza, Warszawa 1988. Studies of the Kraków Avant-​garde Bieńkowski Z., “Peiperyzm dzisiaj,” Twórczość 8 (1971). Jaworski S., “Awangarda,” in Literatura polska w okresie międzywojennym, Vol. 1, eds. J. Kądziela, J. Kwiatkowski, I. Wyczańska, PWN, Kraków 1979. For Author use only 502 Bibliography Kwiatkowski J., “Od ‘Sponad’ do ‘Równania serca’,” in Świat poetycki Juliana Przybosia, PIW, Warszawa 1972. Okopień-​Sławińska A., “Pomysły do teorii wiersza współczesnego (Na przykładzie poezji Przybosia),” in Styl i kompozycja, ed. J. Trzynadlowski, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1965. Sławiński J., Koncepcja języka poetyckiego Awangardy Krakowskiej, ed. W. Bolecki, Universitas, Kraków 1998 (first edition: Ossolineum, Wrocław 1965). Szymański W. P., Neosymbolizm. O awangardowej poezji polskiej w latach trzydziestych, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1973. Śniecikowska B., “ ‘Oddalenia, związki na odległość?’ –​o warstwie dźwiękowej wiersza Tadeusza Peipera,” in Awangardowa encyklopedia, czyli słownik rozumowany nauk, sztuk i rzemiosł różnych. Prace o arowane Panu Profesorowi Grzegorzowi Gaździe, eds. I. Hübner, A. Izdebska, J. Płuciennik, D. Szajnert, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Łódzkiego, Łódź 2008. Studies of other phenomena in Polish interwar literature Cudak R., “ ‘Świetopełna trześć dziwosłów.’ O języku poetyckim ‘Słopiewni’ Juliana Tuwima,” in Skamander. Studia z zagadnień poetyki i socjologii form poetyckich, ed. I. Opacki, Uniwersytet Śląski, Katowice 1978. Czernik S., “Fantazjotwórstwo poetyckie,” Okolica Poetów 4–​5 (1935). Głowiński M., Sławiński J., “Wstęp,” in Poezja polska okresu międzywojennego. Antologia, eds. M. Głowiński, J. Sławiński, part 1, Ossolineum, Wrocław–​ Warszawa–​Kraków–​Gdańsk–​Łódź 1987. Ingarden R., “Graniczny wypadek dzieła literackiego,” in Szkice z filozofii literatury, Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza “Polonista,” Łódź 1947. Kluba A., “Poezja mitu kratylejskiego Adama Ważyka,” in Autoteliczność –​ referencyjność –​niewyrażalność. O nowoczesnej poezji polskiej (1918–​1939), Wrocław 2004. Lam A., “Jak jeszcze istnieje nadrealizm?,” in Z teorii i praktyki awangardyzmu, Warszawa 1976. Maciejewska I., “ ‘Gwiaździsta księga wszechświata’ Emila Zegadłowicza,” in E. Zegadłowicz, Wybór poezji, ed. I. Maciejewska, Warszawa 1987. Matuszewski R., “Poeta rzeczy ostatecznych i rzeczy pierwszych,” in J. Tuwim, Wiersze, Vol. 1, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1986. Ostrowski W., “Starobajka,” Zagadnienia Rodzajów Literackich 1–​2 (2000). Papierkowski S. K., Bolesław Leśmian. Studium językowe, Wydawnictwo Lubelskie, Lublin 1964. Pieszczachowicz J., Wygnaniec w labiryncie XX wieku. Poetyckie rodowody z dwudziestolecia, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1994. For Author use only Bibliography 503 Piotrowski W., “Jesienin w literaturze polskiej okresu międzywojennego,” in O wzajemnych powiązaniach literackich polsko-​rosyjskich, eds. S. Fiszman, K. Sierocka, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1969. Pustkowski H., “Mirohłady,” Zagadnienia Rodzajów Literackich 2 (1974). Pustkowski H., “Próba gatunkowego określenia ‘mirohładów’ –​‘słopiewni’,” in Z polskich studiów slawistycznych, series 4: Nauka o literaturze, PWN, Warszawa 1972 (amended and republished in Rzecz Poetycka. Środowisko, eds. A. Biskupski, J. Jarmołowski, M. Kucner, Wydawnictwo Łódzkie, Łódź 1975). Pustkowski H., “Słopiewnie,” Zagadnienia Rodzajów Literackich 2 (1974). Sawicka J., “Filozofia słowa” Juliana Tuwima, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1975. Trznadel J., “Wstęp,” in A. Ważyk, Wybór poezji, PIW, Warszawa 1967. Tuwim J., “Atuli mirohłady,” in Pegaz dęba, Czytelnik, Kraków 1950. Witkiewicz S. I., “Prawda o ‘mirochładach’ przez ‘ch’,” in Bez kompromisu. Pisma krytyczne i publicystyczne, ed. J. Degler, PIW, Warszawa 1976. Studies of linguistic poetry Bolecki W., “O jednym wierszu Mirona Białoszewskiego,” in Polowanie na postmodernistów (w Polsce) i inne szkice, Kraków 1999 (or in Pisanie Białoszewskiego, eds. M. Głowiński, Z. Łapiński, Wydawnictwo IBL, Warszawa 1993). Kwiatkowski J., “Abulia i liturgia,” in Klucze do wyobraźni, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1973. Matuszewski R., “Moraliści, ‘słowiarze’ i mitotwórcy,” in Z problemów literatury polskiej XX wieku, Vol. 3, eds. A. Brodzka, Z. Żabicki, PIW, Warszawa 1965. Nycz R., “ ‘Szare eminencje zachwytu.’ Miejsce epifanii w poetyce Mirona Białoszewskiego,” in Pisanie Białoszewskiego, eds. M. Głowiński, Z. Łapiński, Wydawnictwo IBL, Warszawa 1993. Pustkowski H., “Gramatyka poezji”?, PAX, Warszawa 1974. Sadowski W., Tekst graficzny Białoszewskiego, Uniwersytet Warszawski, Warszawa 1999. Sławiński J., “Próba porządkowania doświadczeń,” in Przypadki poezji, ed. W. Bolecki, Universitas, Kraków 2001 (previously published in Z problemów literatury polskiej XX wieku, Vol. 3, eds. A. Brodzka, Z. Żabicki, PIW, Warszawa 1965). Śniecikowska B., “ ‘Nowa muzyczność?’ Fonostylistyka awangardowa i jej współczesne kontynuacje,” Acta Universitatis Lodziensis. Folia Litteraria Polonica 1.15 (2012). For Author use only 504 Bibliography Świrek A., W kręgu współczesnej poezji lingwistycznej, Wydawnictwo Wyższej Szkoły Pedagogicznej w Zielonej Górze, Zielona Góra 1985. Studies of neo-​linguism Cieślak T., “Poezja neolingwistów warszawskich,” in Nowa poezja polska. Twórcy –​tematy –​motywy, Księgarnia Akademicka, Kraków 2009. Cieślak-​Sokołowski T., “Próba porządkowania tekstów,” FA–​art 3–​4 (2003). Klejnocki J., “Samplujący didżeje (O nowym warszawskim lingwizmie),” Studium 3–​4 (2003). “Neolingwizm –​subiektywne kalendarium,” Ha!art 3–​4 (2003). Śniecikowska B., “ ‘Manifest Neolingwistyczny v. 1.1’ i jego poetyckie potomstwo –​twórczość nowatorów czy paseizm,” Ha!art 23 (2006) (or in Polska literatura najnowsza –​poza kanonem, ed. P. Kierzek, Łódź 2008). Śniecikowska B., “ ‘Nowa muzyczność?’ Fonostylistyka awangardowa i jej współczesne kontynuacje,” Acta Universitatis Lodziensis. Folia Litteraria Polonica 1.15 (2012). Studies of sound instrumentation Bristiger M., Związki muzyki ze słowem, Polskie Wydawnictwo Muzyczne, Warszawa 1986. Brzostowska-​Tereszkiewicz T., “Kinestezja artykulacyjna.” Online: http://​www. sens​ualn​osc.bn.org.pl/​pl/​artic​les/​kin​este​zja-​artyku​lacy​jna-​66/​ (accessed 19 March 2017). Dąbrowski S., “Muzyka w literaturze. (Próba przeglądu zagadnień),” Poezja 3 (1980). Dłuska M., “Elementy śpiewności w poezji,” in Studia i rozprawy, Vol. 1, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1970. Dziadek A., “Anagramy Ferdynanda de Saussure’a –​historia pewnej rewolucji,” in Na marginesach lektury. Szkice teoretyczne, Katowice 2006. Dziadek A., Rytm i podmiot w liryce Jarosława Iwaszkiewicza i Aleksandra Wata, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Śląskiego, Katowice 1999. Ejchenbaum B. M., “Jak jest zrobiony ‘Płaszcz’ Gogola,” trans. H. Cieślakowa, M. Czermińska, in Rosyjska szkoła stylistyki, eds. M. R. Mayenowa, Z. Saloni, PIW, Warszawa 1970. Fónagy I., Die Metaphern in der Phonetik. Ein Beitrag zur Entwicklungsgeschichte des Wissenscha lichen Denkens, Mouton, The Hague 1963. Fónagy I., “Język poetycki –​forma i funkcja,” trans. J. Lalewicz, Pamiętnik Literacki 2 (1972). For Author use only Bibliography 505 Fónagy I., “The Metaphor: a Research Instrument,” in Comprehension of Literary Discourse. Results and Problems of Interdisciplinary Approaches, eds. D. Meutsch, R. Vieho, Walter de Gruyter, Berlin–​New York 1989. Hejmej A., Muzyczność dzieła literackiego, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, Wrocław 2002. Hejmej A., Muzyka w literaturze. Perspektywy komparatystyki interdyscyplinarnej, Universitas, Kraków 2008. Jakobson R., Waugh L., “Magia dźwięków mowy,” trans. M. R. Mayenowa, in R. Jakobson, W poszukiwaniu istoty języka. Wybór pism, Vol. 1, ed. M. R. Mayenowa, PIW, Warszawa 1989. Jakobson R., Waugh L., The Sound Shape of Language, Harvester Press, Brighton 1979. Jakubinski L. P., “O dźwiękach języka poetyckiego,” trans. Z. Saloni, in Rosyjska szkoła stylistyki, eds. M. R. Mayenowa, Z. Saloni, PIW, Warszawa 1970. Yakubinsky L. P., “On the Sounds of Poetic Language,” trans. Michael Eskin, in On Language and Poetry. Three Essays, New York 2018. Makowiecki T., Muzyka w twórczości Wyspiańskiego, PWN, Toruń 1955 (the section “Poezja a muzyka” was also published in Muzyka w literaturze, ed. A. Hejmej, Kraków 2002). Masson D. I., “Sound-​Repetition Terms,” in Poetics. Poetyka. Poetika, eds. K. Wyka et al., Vol. 1, PWN, Warszawa 1961. Mayenowa M. R., Poetyka teoretyczna. Zagadnienia języka, Ossolineum, Wrocław 2000. Okopień-​Sławińska A., “Pomysły do teorii wiersza współczesnego (Na przykładzie poezji Przybosia),” in Styl i kompozycja, eds. J. Trzynadlowski, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1965. Okopień-​Sławińska A., “Wiersz awangardowy dwudziestolecia międzywojennego (podstawy, granice, możliwości),” Pamiętnik Literacki 2 (1965). Paszek J., “O ekspresji dźwiękowej ‘Żywych kamieni’,” in Styl powieści Wacława Berenta, Uniwersytet Śląski, Katowice 1976. Paszek J., Stylistyka. Przewodnik metodyczny, Uniwersytet Śląski, Katowice 1974. Poliwanow J. D., “Ogólna zasada fonetyczna wszelkiej techniki poetyckiej,” trans. Z. Saloni, in Rosyjska szkoła stylistyki, eds. M. R. Mayenowa, Z. Saloni, PIW, Warszawa 1970. Pszczołowska L., Instrumentacja dźwiękowa, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1977. Pszczołowska L., “Instrumentacja dźwiękowa tekstów literackich,” in Z zagadnień języka artystycznego, eds. J. Bubak, A. Wilkoń, PWN, Warszawa–​Kraków 1977. Pszczołowska L., “Jak się przekłada onomatopeje,” Teksty 6 (1975). For Author use only 506 Bibliography Pszczołowska L., “Metafory dźwiękowe w poezji i ich motywacja,” in Tekst i język. Problemy semantyczne, ed. M. R. Mayenowa, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1974. Pszczołowska L., Wiersz polski. Zarys historyczny, Leopoldinum, Wrocław 1997. Skwarczyńska S., Wstęp do nauki o literaturze, Vol. 2, part 4: Tworzywo językowe dzieła literackiego, PAX, Warszawa 1954. Skwarczyńska S., Wstęp do nauki o literaturze, Vol. 3, part 5: Rodzaj literacki. A. Ogólna problematyka genologii, PAX, Warszawa 1965. Tsur R., “Expressiveness and Musicality of Speech Sounds,” in Toward a theory of Cognitive Poetics, North–​Holland, Amsterdam–​London–​New York–​ Tokyo 1992. Tsur R., What Makes Sound Patterns Expressive. The Poetic Mode of Speech Perception, Duke University Press, Durham–​London 1992. Wóycicki K., Forma dźwiękowa prozy polskiej i wiersza polskiego, PWN, Warszawa 1960. Zgorzelski Cz., “Elementy ‘muzyczności’ w poezji lirycznej,” in Problemy teorii literatury, series 3, ed. H. Markiewicz, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1988 (or in Prace ofiarowane Henrykowi Markiewiczowi, ed. T. Weiss, Kraków 1984). Other studies in literary history and theory Babler O. F., “Kalambur,” in Słownik rodzajów i gatunków literackich, eds. G. Gazda, S. Tynecka-​Makowska, Universitas, Kraków 2006. Bachtin M., “Epos a powieść,” trans. J. Baluch, Pamiętnik Literacki 3 (1970). Bakhtin M., Epic and novel, trans. C. Emerson, M. Holquist, Austin 1981. Bachtin M., Problemy poetyki Dostojewskiego, trans. N. Modzelewska, PIW, Warszawa 1970. Bakhtin M., Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics, trans. C. Emerson, University of Minnesota Press, Minneapolis 1999. Bachtin M., Twórczość Franciszka Rabelais’go a kultura ludowa średniowiecza i renesansu, trans. A. and A. Goreń, ed. S. Balbus, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1975. Bakhtin M., Rabelais and His World, trans. H. Iswolsky, Bloomington 2009. Bachtin. Dialog. Język. Literatura, eds. E. Czaplejewicz, E. Kasperski, PWN, Warszawa 1983. Balbus S., Między stylami, Universitas, Kraków 1996. Balbus S., “Stylizacja i zjawiska pokrewne,” Pamiętnik Literacki 2 (1983). Balcerzan E., “Magia słowa,” in Oprócz głosu, PIW, Warszawa 1971. Błoński J., “Ut musica poësis?,” Twórczość 9 (1980). For Author use only Bibliography 507 Bocheński T., Czarny humor w twórczości Witkacego, Gombrowicza, Schulza, Universitas, Kraków 2005. Bolecki W., “Czas, przypadek i metafizyka moralności,” Arkusz 4 (2003). Bolecki W., “Groteska, groteskowość,” in Słownik literatury polskiej XX wieku, eds. A. Brodzka et al., Ossolineum, Wrocław 1992. Bolecki W., “Język. Polifonia. Karnawał,” Teksty 3 (1977). Bolecki W., “Metaliteratura wczesnego modernizmu. ‘Pałuba’ Karola Irzykowskiego,” Arkusz 2 (2003). Bolecki W., “Modalność (literaturoznawstwo i kognitywizm. Rekonesans),” in Sporne i bezsporne problemy współczesnej wiedzy o literaturze, eds. W. Bolecki, R. Nycz, Wydawnictwo IBL PAN, Warszawa 2002 (or in Modalności modernizmu. Studia. Analizy. Interpretacje, Wydawnictwo IBL, Warszawa 2012). Bolecki W., “Modernizm w literaturze polskiej XX wieku (rekonesans),” Teksty Drugie 4 (2002). Bolecki W., Poetycki model prozy w dwudziestoleciu międzywojennym, Universitas, Kraków 1996. Bolecki W., “Postmodernizowanie modernizmu,” in Polowanie na postmodernistów (w Polsce), Universitas, Kraków 1999. Buttler D., Polski dowcip językowy, PWN, Warszawa 2001. Bystroń J. S., Komizm, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1960. Dąbrowska E., Teksty w ruchu. Powroty baroku w polskiej poezji współczesnej, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Opolskiego, Opole 2001. Dembińska-​Pawelec J., “Poezja jest sztuką rytmu.” O świadomości rytmu w poezji polskiej dwudziestego wieku, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Śląskiego, Katowice 2010. Dziemidok B., O komizmie, Spółdzielnia Wydawnicza Książka i Wiedza, Warszawa 1967. Friedrich H., Struktura nowoczesnej liryki, trans. E. Feliksiak, PIW, Warszawa 1978. Friedrich H., The Structure of Modern Poetry, Evanston 1974. Gazda G., “Modernizm i modernizmy (Uwagi o semantyce i pragmatyce terminu),” in Dialog, komparatystyka, literatura, eds. E. Kasperski, D. Ulicka, ASPRA–​JR, Warszawa 2002. Głowiński M., “Literatura a muzyka,” in Słownik literatury polskiej XX wieku, eds. A. Brodzka et al., Ossolineum, Wrocław 1992. Głowiński M., Okopień-​Sławińska A., Sławiński J., Zarys teorii literatury, Wydawnictwa Szkolne i Pedagogiczne, Warszawa 1986. Grodziński E., Zarys teorii nonsensu, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1981. For Author use only 508 Bibliography Hejmej A., “Partytura literacka. Przedmiot badań komparatystyki interdyscyplinarnej,” Teksty Drugie 4 (2003). Intersemiotyczność. Literatura wobec innych sztuk (i odwrotnie). Studia, eds. S. Balbus, A. Hejmej, J. Niedźwiedź, Universitas, Kraków 2004. Jakobson R., “Paralelizm gramatyczny i jego aspekt rosyjski,” trans. A. Tanalska, in W poszukiwaniu istoty języka. Wybór pism, Vol. 2, ed. M. R. Mayenowa, PIW, Warszawa 1989. Jakobson R., “Poetyka w świetle językoznawstwa,” trans. K. Pomorska, in W poszukiwaniu istoty języka. Wybór pism, Vol. 2, ed. M. R. Mayenowa, PIW, Warszawa 1989. Jakobson R., “Poezja gramatyki i gramatyka poezji,” trans. Z. Kloch, in W poszukiwaniu istoty języka. Wybór pism, Vol. 2, ed. M. R. Mayenowa, PIW, Warszawa 1989. Kuczyńska K., “ ‘Eksterytorialna dzielnica rzeczywistości.’ Miasto ze snu w poezji polskiej XX wieku,” in Oniryczne tematy i konwencje w literaturze polskiej XX wieku, eds. I. Glatzel, J. Smulski, A. Sobolewska, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Mikołaja Kopernika, Toruń 1999. Kwiatkowski J., “Z poetyckich lektur,” Twórczość 11 (1971). Lam A., “Zabawa w blagę istotną,” Miesięcznik Literacki 9 (1970). Lausberg H., Retoryka literacka. Podstawy wiedzy o literaturze, trans. A. Gorzkowski, Homini, Bydgoszcz 2002. Liede A., Dichtung als Spiel. Studien zur Unsinnspoesie an den Grenzen der Sprache, Vol. 1, Walter de Gruyter, Berlin 1963. Maleszyńska J., “Staropolskie wiersze muzyczne,” in Wariacje na temat. Studia literackie, eds. J. Abramowska, A. Czyżak, Z. Kopeć, Wydawnictwo “Poznańskie Studia Polonistyczne,” Poznań 2003. Markiewicz H., “Próba periodyzacji nowożytnej literatury polskiej,” in Przekroje i zbliżenia, Warszawa 1967. Miodońska-​Brookes E., Kulawik A., Tatara M., Zarys poetyki, PWN, Warszawa 1978. Nawarecki A., Czarny karnawał. “Uwagi śmierci niechybnej” księdza Baki –​ poetyka tekstu i paradoksy recepcji, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1991. Nawarecki A., “Umieranka księdza Baki,” Pamiętnik Literacki 1 (1983). Nycz R., “Literatura nowoczesna: cztery dyskursy (tezy),” Teksty Drugie 4 (2002). Nycz R., “Parodia i pastisz. Z dziejów pojęć artystycznych w świadomości literackiej XX wieku,” in Tekstowy świat. Poststrukturalizm a wiedza o literaturze, Universitas, Kraków 2000. Nycz R., “Słowo wstępne,” in Odkrywanie modernizmu, Universitas, Kraków 1998. For Author use only Bibliography 509 Okoń J., “Wstęp,” in Staropolskie pastorałki dramatyczne. Antologia, Ossolineum, Wrocław–​Warszawa–​Kraków–​Gdańsk–​Łódź 1989. Plesník L., “Pragmatyka repetycji,” in Dialog, komparatystyka, literatura, eds. E. Kasperski, D. Ulicka, trans T. M. Piotrowska-​Małek, ASPRA–​JR, Warszawa 2002. Płuciennik J., Figury niewyobrażalnego. Notatki z poetyki wzniosłości w literaturze polskiej, Universitas, Kraków 2002. Płuciennik J., Retoryka wzniosłości w dziele literackim, Universitas, Kraków 2000. Poklewska K., “Wstęp. Kornel Ujejski –​poeta romantyczny,” in K. Ujejski, Wybór poezji i prozy, ed. K. Poklewska, Ossolineum, Wrocław–​Warszawa–​ Kraków 1992. Prokop J., Euklides i barbarzyńcy, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1964. Sawicki S., “Gatunek literacki: pojęcie klasy kacyjne, typologiczne, politypiczne,” in Poetyka. Interpretacja. Sacrum, Wydawnictwo Naukowe PWN, Warszawa 1981. Skwarczyńska S., “Niedostrzeżony problem podstawowy genologii,” in Problemy teorii literatury, ed. H. Markiewicz, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1967. Skwarczyńska S., “Stylizacja i jej miejsce w nauce o literaturze,” Stylistyka polska, eds. E. Miodońska-​Brookes, A. Kulawik, M. Tatara, PWN, Warszawa 1973. Skwarczyńska S., Wstęp do nauki o literaturze, Vol. 3, part 5: Rodzaj literacki. A. Ogólna problematyka genologii, PAX, Warszawa 1965. Sławiński J., “Poetyka pastiszu,” in Przypadki poezji, ed. W. Bolecki, Universitas, Kraków 2001. Spitzer L., “Językoznawstwo a historia literatury,” in K. Vossler, L. Spitzer, Studia stylistyczne, eds. M. R. Mayenowa, R. Handke, trans. M. R. Mayenowa, PIW, Warszawa 1972. Stempowski J., “Chimera jako zwierzę pociągowe,” in Chimera jako zwierzę pociągowe, ed. J. Timoszewicz, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1988. Ślósarska J., Syntagmatyka poetycka, Semper, Warszawa 1995. Śniecikowska B., Słowo –​obraz –​dźwięk. Literatura i sztuki wizualne w koncepcjach polskiej awangardy 1918–​1939, Universitas, Kraków 2005. Śniecikowska B., “Wspólny język czy wieża Babel? –​o terminach współistniejących w literaturoznawstwie i historii sztuki,” in Literatura i wiedza, eds. E. Dąbrowska, W. Bolecki, Wydawnictwo IBL PAN, Warszawa 2006. Tigges W., An Anatomy of Literary Nonsense, Rodopi, Amsterdam 1988. Tokarska-​Bakir J., Obraz osobliwy: hermeneutyczna lektura źródeł etnogracznych, Vol. 1: Wielkie opowieści, Universitas, Kraków 2000. Tuwim J., “O pewnej kobyle i rakach,” in Pegaz dęba, Czytelnik, Kraków 1950. For Author use only 510 Bibliography Wellek R., Warren A., Teoria literatury, trans. M. Żurowski, PWN, Warszawa 1976. Wysłouch S., Literatura a sztuki wizualne, PWN, Warszawa 1994. Ziomek J., Retoryka opisowa, Ossolineum, Wrocław 2000. Dictionaries and encyclopaedias Aquien M., Molinié G., Dictionnaire de rhétorique et de poétique, La Pochothèque, Paris 1999. Bańko M., Słownik onomatopei, czyli wyrazów dźwięko-​i ruchonaśladowczych, PWN, Warszawa 2009. Bańko M., Współczesny polski onomatopeikon. Ikoniczność w języku, PWN, Warszawa 2008. Cuddon J. A., A Dictionary of Literary Terms, Penguin Books, Harmondsworth 1986. Dictionary of World Literary Terms, eds. J. T. Shipley, G. Allen, London 1979. Dictionnaire de linguistique, Librairie Larousse, Paris 1973. Dictionnaire universel des lettres, publié sous la direction de P. Clarac, S.E.D.E. et V. Bompani, Paris 1961. Encyklopedia języka polskiego, eds. S. Urbańczyk, M. Kucała, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1999. Encyklopedia językoznawstwa ogólnego, ed. K. Polański, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1999. Dupriez B., Gradus. Les procédés littéraires (Dictionnaire), 10/​18, [n. p.] 1995. Gazda G., Słownik europejskich kierunków i grup literackich XX wieku, PWN, Warszawa 2000. Głowiński M., Kostkiewiczowa T., Okopień-​Sławińska A., Sławiński J., Słownik terminów literackich, ed. J. Sławiński, Ossolineum, Warszawa 2000. Kita M., Polański E., Słownik paronimów, czyli wyrazów mylonych, PWN, Warszawa 2004. Morier H., Dictionnaire de poétique et de rhétorique, Presses Universitaires de France, Paris 1989. Mounin G., Dictionnaire de linguistique, Presses Universitaires de France, Paris 1974. The New Princeton Encyclopedia of Poetry and Poetics, eds. A. Preminger, T. V. F. Brogan, Princeton University Press, Princeton, New Jersey 1993. Shaw H., Dictionary of Literary Terms, McGraw–​Hill, New York 1972. Słownik języka polskiego, Vol. 2, ed. W. Doroszewski, PWN, Warszawa 1965. Słownik literatury polskiej XIX wieku, eds. J. Bachórz, A. Kowalczykowa, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1991. For Author use only Bibliography 511 Słownik literatury polskiej XX wieku, eds. A. Brodzka et al., Ossolineum, Wrocław 1992. Varia Backner M., The Biological Way of Thought, New York 1959. Bergson H., Laughter. An Essay on the Meaning of the Comic, trans. F. Rothwell, C. Brereton, Green Integer, Los Angeles 1999. Bergson H., Śmiech. Esej o komizmie, trans. S. Cichowicz, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1977. Bokszczanin M., “Kantyczka Chybińskiego. Z tradycji biblijnych i literackich kolędy barokowej,” in Literatura –​komparatystyka –​folklor. Księga poświęcona Julianowi Krzyżanowskiemu, PWN, Warszawa 1968. Hulewicz J., “Zrozumialstwo,” Wiadomości Literackie 40–​42 (1924). Irzykowski K., “Inter augures. Słaba odpowiedź opuszczonego zrozumialca,” Wiadomości Literackie 50 (1924) (reprinted in K. Irzykowski, Słoń wśród porcelany. Lżejszy kaliber, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1976). Irzykowski K., “Niezrozumialstwo,” Wiadomości Literackie 38 (1924) (reprinted in K. Irzykowski, Słoń wśród porcelany. Lżejszy kaliber, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1976). Irzykowski K., “Niezrozumialstwo, metafory i kto nie będzie rozstrzelany,” Pion 52 (1935). Irzykowski K., “Opowiedzieć własnymi słowami,” in Walka o treść. Beniaminek, ed. A. Lam, Wydawnictwo Literackie, Kraków 1976. Jakobson R., “Dwa aspekty języka i dwa typy zakłóceń afatycznych,” trans. L. Zawadowski, in W poszukiwaniu istoty języka. Wybór pism, Vol. 1, ed. M. R. Mayenowa, PIW, Warszawa 1989. Jakobson R., “Two Aspects of Language and Two Types of Aphasic Disturbances,” in Selected Writings, Vol. 2: Word and Language, The Hague 1971. Kita M., Polański E., “Wstęp. Dlaczego mylimy wyrazy?,” in Słownik paronimów, czyli wyrazów mylonych, PWN, Warszawa 2004. Lewandowska B., “U źródeł grafiki funkcjonalnej w Polsce,” in Ze studiów nad genezą plastyki nowoczesnej w Polsce, ed. J. Starzyński, Ossolineum, Wrocław 1966. Majewicz A. F., Języki świata i ich klasy kowanie, PWN, Warszawa 1989. Miller J. N., “O niezrozumiałej zarozumiałości arcyzrozumialstwa,” Wiadomości Literackie 45 (1924). For Author use only 512 Bibliography Narbutt T., Dzieje starożytne narodu litewskiego. Vol. 1: Mitologia litewska, A. Marcinowski, Wilno 1835. Online: https://​pol​ona.pl/​item/​209​967/​22/​ (accessed 6 July 2016). Nietzsche F., Narodziny tragedji, Instytut Wydawniczy “Bibljoteka Polska,” Gebethner i Wolff, Warszawa [n. d.]. Nietzsche F., The Birth of Tragedy and Other Writings, trans. R. Speirs, Cambridge 1999. Petzold D., Formen und Funktionen der englischen Nonsense-​Dichtung im 19. Jahrhundert, Verlag Hans Carl, Nürnberg 1972. Pollakówna J., Malarstwo polskie między wojnami 1918–​1939, Wydawnictwa Artystyczne i Filmowe /​Auriga, Warszawa 1982. Pollakówna J., “Malarze i podpalacze,” in Sztuka XX wieku. Materiały Sesji Stowarzyszenia Historyków Sztuki, PWN, Warszawa 1971. Porębski M., Kubizm. Wprowadzenie do sztuki XX wieku, Wydawnictwa Artystyczne i Filmowe, Warszawa 1986. Rypson P., Obraz słowa. Historia poezji wizualnej, Akademia Ruchu, Warszawa 1989. Saussure F. de, A Course in General Linguistics, ed. Ch. Bally and A. Sechehaye, in collaboration with A. Riedlinger, trans. W. Baskin, London 1964. Schopenhauer A., Świat jako wola i przedstawienie, Vol. 1, trans. J. Garewicz, PWN, Warszawa 1994. Schopenhauer A., Świat jako wola i przedstawienie, Vol. 2, trans. J. Garewicz, PWN, Warszawa 1995. Schopenhauer A., The World as Will and Representation, Vol. 1, trans. J. Norman, A. Welchman, Ch. Janaway, Cambridge 2010. Stewart S., Nonsense. Aspects of Intertextuality in Folklore and Literature, The Johns Hopkins University Press, Baltimore–​London 1979. Stopa R., Studies in African Languages (Essays on Phonetics, Semiotics and Meaning), Universitas, Kraków 1993. Sztabiński G., Problemy intelektualizacji sztuki w tendencjach awangardowych, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Łódzkiego, Łódź 1991. Sztabiński G., “Sztuka, antysztuka, niesztuka –​z problemów negacji sztuki w tendencjach awangardowychSztabiński G., “Sztuka, antysztuka, niesztuka –​z problemów negacji sztuki w tendencjach awangardowych,” Studia Filozoficzne 1 (1989). Śniecikowska B., “Kolęda,” in Słownik rodzajów i gatunków literackich, eds. G. Gazda, S. Tynecka-​Makowska, Unversitas, Kraków 2006. For Author use only Bibliography 513 Taylor J. R., “Kategorie prototypowe w fonologii,” in Kategoryzacja w języku. Prototypy w teorii językoznawczej, trans. A. Skucińska, Universitas, Kraków 2001. Tokarska-​Bakir J., Wyzwolenie przez zmysły. Tybetańskie koncepcje soteriologiczne, Leopoldinum, Wrocław 1997. Trubiecki N. S., Podstawy fonologii, trans. A. Heinz, PWN, Warszawa 1970. Turowski A., Awangardowe marginesy, Instytut Kultury, Warszawa 1998. Tuwim J., Cicer cum caule, czyli groch z kapustą. Panopticum i archiwum kultury, ed. J. Hurwic, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1958. Waszakowa K., “Słowotwórczy aspekt procesów profilowania,” in Profilowanie w języku i w tekście, eds. J. Bartmiński, R. Tokarski, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Marii Curie-​Skłodowskiej, Lublin 1998. Wielopolska M. J. [M. J. Walewska-​Wielopolska], “Maniery resorbcyjne w literaturze,” Wiadomości Literackie 44 (1924). Wilkoń A., Typologia odmian językowych współczesnej polszczyzny, Uniwersytet Śląski, Katowice 1987. Wat A., Ciemne świecidło, Libella, Paryż 1968. Wat A., Dziennik bez samogłosek, ed. K. Rutkowski, Czytelnik, Warszawa 1990. Witkiewicz S. I., “Dalszy ciąg o wstrętnym pojęciu ‘niezrozumialstwa’,” in Bez kompromisu. Pisma krytyczne i publicystyczne, ed. J. Degler, PIW, Warszawa 1976 (first printed in Przegląd Wieczorny 148 [1927]). Witkiewicz S. I., Niesiołowski T., Langier T., “papierek lakmusowy,” Miesięcznik Literacki 9 (1970). Witkiewicz S. I., “O wstrętnym pojęciu ‘niezrozumialstwa’,” in Bez kompromisu. Pisma krytyczne i publicystyczne, ed. J. Degler, PIW, Warszawa 1976 (first published in Przegląd Wieczorny 143 [1927]). Witkiewicz S. I., “Wstęp do rozważań nad ‘niezrozumialstwem’,” in Bez kompromisu. Pisma krytyczne i publicystyczne, ed. J. Degler, PIW, Warszawa 1976 (first published in Przegląd Wieczorny 137 [1927]). Żeromski S., Snobizm i postęp, Wydawnictwo J. Mortkowicza, Warszawa–​ Kraków 1923. For Author use only For Author use only Bibliographical note Analyses contained in this study were first presented in different, abbreviated or changed form in the following publications: “Młodopolska ‘muzyczność’ w futurystycznych uszach, czyli o różnych awangardowych aktualizacjach symbolistycznej ‘dźwiękowości’ poezji” [The “Musicality” of Young Poland and Futurist Tastes: Avant-​garde Uses of Sound Symbolism in Poetry], in Młodopolska synteza sztuk, eds. H. Ratuszna, R. Sioma, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Mikołaja Kopernika, Toruń 2010. “Foniczne meandry purnonsensu –​o poezji polskiego futuryzmu i europejskiego dada” [Sound Intricacies of Pure Nonsense: Polish Futurist Poetry and the European Dadaists], in Odcienie humoru, eds. S. Dżereń-​Głowacka, A. Kwiatkowska, Naukowe Wydawnictwo Piotrkowskie, Piotrków Trybunalski 2008. “ ‘Oddalenia, związki na odległość?’ –​o warstwie dźwiękowej wiersza Tadeusza Peipera” [“Remoteness, Long-​Distance Relatonships?” Sound in Tadeusz Peiper’s Poetry], in Awangardowa encyklopedia, czyli słownik rozumowany nauk, sztuk i rzemiosł różnych. Prace o arowane Panu Profesorowi Grzegorzowi Gaździe, eds. I. Hübner, A. Izdebska, J. Płuciennik, D. Szajnert, Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Łódzkiego, Łódź 2008. “ ‘Nowa muzyczność?’ Fonostylistyka awangardowa i jej współczesne kontynuacje” [“New Musicality?” Avantagarde Phonostylistics in Modern Practice], Acta Universitatis Lodziensis. Folia Litteraria Polonica 1.15 (2012). “Poetic Experiments in Polish Futurism: Imitative, Eclectic or Original?,” International Yearbook of Futurism Studies, Vol. 2, ed. G. Berghaus, De Gruyter, Berlin–​Boston 2012. “Futuryzje-​folkloryzje, czyli awangardyści na wsi” [Futurettes-​Folkarettes, or the Avantagarde in the Countryside], Autoportret 4.39 (2012). Entries “Onomatopeje właściwe futuryzmu” [Futurist Onomatopoeias Proper], “Kubizm dźwiękowy” [Sound Cubism], “ ‘Muzyczność’ poezji Młodej Polski” [Poetic Musicality of Young Poland], “Poetyka dźwięku awangardy krakowskiej” [Poetics of Sound of the Kraków Avant-​garde], “Futurystyczna poetyka dźwięku” [Futurist Poetics of Sound], “Dźwięk a typografia (przypadek futuryzmu)” [Sound and Typography. The Case of Futurism] at the academic website “Sensualność w kulturze polskiej. Przedstawienia zmysłów człowieka w języku, piśmiennictwie i sztuce od średniowiecza do współczesności” [Sensuality in Polish Culture. Representations of Human Senses in Language, Writing and Art (from the Middle Ages to the Contemporary Era)]. Online: www.sens​ualn​osc.bn.org.pl. For Author use only 516 Bibliographical note Short passages, limited almost solely to analyses of works by Tytus Czyżewski (in slightly changed form and in the comparatist context of studies on Czyżewski’s art and writing) were published in the first part of the book Słowo –​obraz –​dźwięk. Literatura i sztuki wizualne w koncepcjach polskiej awangardy 1918–​1939 [Word –​Image –​Sound: Literature and the Visual Arts in the Polish Avant-​garde 1918–​1939], Universitas, Kraków 2005. For Author use only List of illustrations 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. First and last (fourth) page of Jednodńuwka futurystuw [misspellt: One-​off issue of the Futurists], Kraków 1921 (June) ������������������ 24 Inside pages (two and three) of Jednodńuwka futurystuw, Kraków 1921 (June) ����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 25 Initial spread of the volume Zielone oko. Poezje formistyczne. Elektryczne wizje [Green eye. Formist poems. Electric visions], G. Gebethner i Spółka, Kraków 1920. ������������������������������������������������������������� 105 First page of the one-​off issue Nuż w bżuhu. 2 jednodńuwka futurystuw [misspelt: Knife in the belly. Second one-​off of the Futurists], Kraków 1921. ���������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 228 The second (and last) page of Nuż w bżuhu. ������������������������������������������������� 229 Tadeusz Makowski, woodcut illustration in Pastorałki [Dramatized Christmas Carols] by Tytus Czyżewski. After: Tytus Czyżewski, Pastorałki, with woodcuts by Tadeusz Makowski, Polskie Towarzystwo Przyjaciół Książki, Paris 1925, 13. ������������������������������������������ 245 Tadeusz Makowski, woodcut illustration in Pastorałki by Tytus Czyżewski. After: Czyżewski, Pastorałki, 29. ������������������������������������������������ 297 Cover of the volume Futuryzje [Futurettes] by Anatol Stern, “Wszechczas,” Warszawa 1919 (1919/​1920) –​one of several projects developed by the author. ���������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 315 “Cover” of Nieśmiertelny tom futuryz [Immortal Volume of Futurizas] by Anatol Stern and Aleksander Wat, “Futur Polski,” Warszawa, 1921. ������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 315 Inside pages (the only double spread) of Nieśmiertelny tom futuryz by Stern and Wat. ���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 315 Tadeusz Makowski, woodcut illustration from the volume Pastorałki by Tytus Czyżewski. After: Czyżewski, Pastorałki, 9 ����������������������������������� 412 Tadeusz Makowski, woodcut illustration from the volume Pastorałki by Tytus Czyżewski, Paris 1925. After: Czyżewski, Pastorałki, 19. ������������ 417 Cover of Słowo o Jakubie Szeli [The Tale of Jakub Szela] by Bruno Jasieński, cover design by Zygmunt Waliszewski, Paris 1926. ������������������� 426 For Author use only For Author use only Index of names A Abramowska Janina 98, 296 Albert-Birot Pierre 219, 221, 241, 287, 289, 290, 319, 330 Apollinaire Guillaume (Wilhelm Apolinary Kostrowicki) 21–23, 178, 250, 285 Aquien Michèle 36 Aragon Louis 178, 223, 249 Arp Hans (Jean) 187, 219, 221, 224, 259, 288, 289, 313, 346, 391 Aseyev Nikolai 148 B Babler Otto František 383 Bachórz Józef 53 Backner Morton 460 Baczyński Stanisław 279, 349 Badecki Karol 314 Baka Józef 61, 385, 386 Bakhtin Mikhail 133, 197, 383, 388 Balbus Stanisław 52, 114, 403, 451 Balcerzan Edward 11, 13, 17, 18, 28, 34–36, 38–41, 43, 102, 154, 173, 183, 190, 191, 202, 203, 216, 239, 352, 395, 397, 426, 433, 436, 473 Ball Hugo 28, 184, 185, 187, 220, 222, 226, 245, 253, 255, 277, 300, 302, 367, 391 Balmont Konstantin 23 Baluch Alicja 11, 75, 87, 243 Baluch Jacek 339 Baran Henrik Baranowska Małgorzata 74, 119, 133, 134, 136, 137, 141, 219, 222, 225, 253, 261, 306, 327, 339, 340, 364, 366, 394, 432 Barańczak Stanisław 305, 395, 472, 473, 477 Barański Zbigniew 55, 80, 151, 182, 183 Barooshian Vahan D. 182, 183 Bartmiński Jerzy 208, 244, 398–403, 411, 416 Bartoszewicz Kazimierz 388 Baudelaire Charles 53, 55, 73, 102, 108, 129, 418 Baudouin de Courtenay Jan Niecisław 148, 152 Beethoven Ludwig van 57 Béhar Henri 254 Bely Andrey (Boris Bugayev) 55, 148, 381 Berent Wacław 52, 72 Berghaus Günter 185, 219, 221, 234, 237, 241, 285, 308, 341, 354, 379, 395, 454 Bergson Henri 197, 338 Bersani Jacques 288, 289, 313 Białoszewski Miron 129, 166, 240, 385, 453, 473 Bieńkowski Zbigniew 51, 73, 197, 473, 475 Biernacka Maria 501 Bigsby Christopher William Edgar 221–223, 274, 391 Biskupski Andrzej 180 Blaukopf Kurt 254, 300 Blümner Rudolf 398 Blok Aleksandr 395 Błoński Jan 52, 54, 64 Boccioni Umberto 21, 22 Bocheński Tomasz 305 Böcklin Arnold 82 Bogatyrev Petr Bojtár Endre 219 Bokszczanin Maria 244, 411 Bolecki Włodzimierz 13, 18, 30, 48, 51, 54, 55, 69, 73, 75, 84, 102, 114, 129, 130, 133, 140, 145, 146, 162, 166, 178, 202, 221, 240, 247, 249, 303, 363, 387–389, 403, 450, 452, 474, 475 Bolshakov Konstantin 148 For Author use only 520 Index of names Boniecka Barbara 401 Borowski Jarosław 130, 161 Borowy Wacław 72 Braque Georges 178, 179 Braun Jerzy 180, 223 Breton André 129, 223, 237–240 Bristiger Michał 32, 52, 284, 286, 298 Brodzka Alina 17, 18, 57, 82, 163, 219, 264, 393, 451, 474, 477 Brogan Terry V. F. 305 Bry Théodore de 355 Brzeski Kazimierz 19 Brzękowski Jan 462–464, 466, 468, 469, 472 Brzozowski Jacek 165, 304 Brzozowski Tadeusz 361 Bubak Józef 36, 63 Bun W. 26 Buras Jacek Stanisław 221 Burek Tomasz 11, 96, 116, 197, 243, 251, 305, 369, 403, 404, 406, 421, 422 Burkot Stanisław 18, 28, 82, 209, 212, 396, 404–406 Burluk Dawid 426 Buttler Danuta 132, 365, 373 Bystroń Jan Stanisław 296, 314, 338, 360, 366, 373, 384, 388, 398, 432 C Carlyle Thomas 53 Carroll Lewis (Charles Lutwidge Dodgson) 305 Carpenter Bogdana 21, 42, 318 Caruso Enrico 212 Caws Mary Ann 223, 308, 319 Cecko Marcin 475 Cendrars Blaise (Frédéric-Louis Sauser) 285 Cervantes Saavedra Miguel de 129 Chesterton Gilbert Keith 305 Chomsky Noam 308 Chopin Fryderyk 53, 57, 101, 337 Chukovsky Korney (Nikolay Korneychukov) Cichowicz Stanisław 338 Cieślak-Sokołowski Tomasz 475 Cieślikowski Jerzy 253, 255, 273, 298, 299, 366 Ciołkoszowa Lidia 225 Clarac Pierre 510 Claudel Paul 53 Cocteau Jean 21, 22 Cohen Jean 308 Coppotelli Arthur A. 45, 87, 266 Coutts-Smith Kenneth 265, 276 Cudak Romuald 187 Cuddon John Anthony 37 Cummings Edward Estlin 250 Cyranowicz Maria 133, 138, 161, 475 Czachorowski Stanisław Swen 473 Czechowicz Józef 129, 471 Czernik Stanisław 181, 243, 306, 395, 399–401, 403, 421, 429, 430, 442 Czyż Antoni 386 Czyżak Agnieszka 296 Czyżewski Tytus 14, 16–19, 27, 28, 42, 47, 77, 123, 224–226, 235, 242, 243, 245, 248, 249, 257, 258, 278, 281, 283–287, 290, 291, 295–302, 309, 333, 335, 338–340, 342–350, 352, 353, 361, 365, 390, 391, 413, 453, 457, 459, 461, 463, 464, 472, 475, 477 D Dante Alighieri 129, 334, 337 Dąbrowska Elżbieta 142 Dąbrowski Stanisław 52 Dąbrowski Witold 381 Degler Janusz 129, 179, 180, 220, 242 Delacroix Eugène 53 Delaperrière Maria 30, 38, 178, 225, 305, 394 Depèro Fortunato 279, 395 Descartes René 153 Dienstl Marian 26 Dłuska Maria 32 Döhl Reinhard 226, 260, 261 For Author use only Index of names Doroszewski Witold 175 Dostoevsky Fyodor 52, 129, 133 Douglas Charlotte 149 Drawicz Andrzej 149 Dubowik Henryk 88, 90, 309, 310, 327, 340, 352 Duchamp Marcel 313, 314, 329, 369, 379, 391 Dupriez Bernard Marie 36 Dutka Czesław Paweł 57 Dziadek Adam 11, 30–32, 131, 137, 163, 165, 225, 394 Dziarnowska Janina 23, 28, 38 Dziekoński Albin 62 Dziemidok Bohdan 311, 338, 360 Dżereń-Głowacka Sylwia 303 E Eberharter Markus 86, 397 Elderfield John 90, 258, 277 Elster Maria 251, 345, 346 Ernst Max 219, 316, 319–322, 324, 325, 328, 329, 332, 342, 346, 360, 371, 391 F Faleński Felicjan 71, 72, 102, 273, 310, 383, 387 Fauchereau Serge 183 Feininger Lyonel 324, 325 Feldman Wilhelm 26 Fersen d’Adelswärd Jacques 27 Fiszman Samuel 74, 395 Flaubert Gustave 129 Flint R. W. 45, 87, 266, 436 Forster Leonard 185, 256, 328 Fónagy Ivan 31, 32, 61, 171, 284, 285, 298, 370 Fragonard Jean Honoré 355 Friedrich Hugo 53, 102, 103 Fromm Erich 395 G Gacki Stefan 27 Gałczyński Konstanty Ildefons 240 521 Garczyński Stefan 57 Gaszewski Jerzy 48, 257 Gazda Grzegorz 14, 16–19, 26, 30, 33, 48, 51, 74, 130, 178, 179, 189, 191, 216, 220, 241, 243, 253, 263, 271, 285, 312, 317, 364, 365, 383, 393–395, 397, 405, 412, 417, 418, 434, 451 Ghil René 58 Glatzel Ilona 361 Gleizes Albert 178 Głowiński Michał 36, 37, 44, 54, 57–59, 68, 69, 122, 187, 207, 285, 317, 374, 453 Gogol Nikolai 360 Gombrowicz Witold 129, 331 Gomulicki Juliusz Wiktor 65 Goreń Andrzej 59 Goreń Anna 59 Goriély Benjamin 225, 226, 251, 265 Gorzkowski Albert 37, 137 Goślicki Jan 18, 236 Gotfryd Jan 402 Górnicki Łukasz 360 Grabowski Ignacy 26, 27 Graf Magdalena 173 Graf Paweł 173 Graszewicz Marek 425 Grędziński Stanisław 23, 233, 397 Grieg Edvard Hagerup 109 Grodziński Eugeniusz 304, 318 Grossek-Korycka Maria 57 Grosz George 224, 357–359, 362 Grübel Rainer 224 Grzeszczuk Stanisław 366 Gumilyov Nikolay 21 Gutowski Wojciech 71 H Handke Ryszard 383 Harasymowicz Jerzy 243, 393 Hasiuk Magdalena 49, 241 Hausmann Raoul 258, 261, 274, 304, 321 For Author use only 522 Index of names Hegel Georg Wilhelm Friedrich 53 Heine Heinrich (Harry Chaim Heine) 360 Heinz Adam 211 Heissenbüttel Helmut 184, 258, 275, 276, 304, 321 Heistein Józef 16, 45, 59, 74, 87, 151, 185, 187, 221–223, 231, 265, 268, 279, 396 Hejmej Andrzej 46, 52, 69, 70 Holthusen Johannes 60 Hrynkowski Jan 87 Hübner Irena 462 Huelsenbeck Richard 185, 220, 221, 226, 233, 255, 259, 260, 286, 289, 300–302, 307, 310, 328, 367, 375, 391, 454 Hugnet Georges 220, 250, 253, 261, 320 Hulewicz Jerzy 303 Hurwic Józef 165 Hutnikiewicz Artur 54 I Ilnicka Jadwiga 57 Ingarden Roman 163, 167, 180, 181, 187 Irzykowski Karol 72, 77, 226, 251, 303, 306, 398, 463 Ivanov Vyacheslav 60 Iwaszkiewicz Jarosław 125, 126 J Jagodyński Stanisław 176 Jakobson Roman 32, 171, 178, 180, 253, 383, 398, 399 Jakóbiec Marian 55 Jacobus de Voragine (Jacopo da Voragine) 129 Jakubowski Jan Zygmunt 67 Jan z Kijan 384, 385 Jan z Wychlówki 384 Janco Marcel 223, 289, 300, 301, 302, 391 Janicka Krystyna 223, 308, 332, 359 Jankowski Jerzy 15, 19, 20, 23, 87, 118, 144, 189, 233, 253, 397 Januszewicz Maria 57 Jarmołowski Jerzy 180 Jarosiński Zbigniew 15–18, 20, 21, 26, 30, 31, 87, 104, 116, 167, 172, 182, 196, 207, 231, 233, 238, 239, 263, 270, 297, 332, 380, 450, 451, 477 Jasieński Bruno (Wiktor B. Zysman) 11, 14, 16–20, 23, 27, 28, 34, 36, 39, 42–45, 47, 74, 77, 79, 80, 87, 101, 102, 108, 109, 142–144, 146, 148, 189, 191–193, 202, 203, 205–208, 212, 214, 216, 224–226, 232–234, 238, 239, 251, 278, 279, 281, 296, 306, 317, 330, 365, 380, 389–391, 395, 397, 423, 426–428, 430–433, 436, 437, 439, 441, 442, 449, 451–454, 457, 458, 461, 472, 475, 477 Jasińska-Wojtkowska Maria 398, 402 Jastrun Mieczysław 11, 56, 59, 64, 73 Jaurès Jean Léon 358, 359 Jaworski Krzysztof 489 Jaworski Roman 102 Jaworski Stanisław 11, 359, 461 Joyce James 29, 169 K Kamensky Vasily 28, 41, 148, 187, 193, 202, 426 Kamieńska Anna 149, 150 Kamionkowa Janina 11, 56 Kandinsky Vassily 177, 184, 224 Kapełuś Helena 434 Karczewski Leszek 149 Karpiński Franciszek 410 Karpowicz Tymoteusz 473 Kasjan Jan Mirosław 398 Kasperski Edward 52, 276 Kasprowicz Jan 59, 68, 77, 102, 119 Kasprzak Michał 475 For Author use only Index of names Kądziela Jerzy 17, 461 Khlebnikov Velimir 21, 22, 28–31, 33, 37, 40, 41, 44–46, 147–153, 155–163, 167–169, 172, 175, 182, 186–188, 191–193, 195–197, 200–203, 205–208, 211–216, 225, 235, 271, 272, 278, 284, 331, 366, 373, 395, 454 Khlebnikova Vera 149, 152 Kierzek Paulina 52, 53, 72 Kirchner Hanna 17, 271, 393 Kirschenblatt-Gimblett Barbara 253 Kita Małgorzata 37 Klein Rudolf 254, 300 Klejnocki Jarosław 475 Kloch Zbigniew 399 Kluba Agnieszka 20, 48, 51, 65, 73, 74, 128 Kochanowski Jan 314 Kokoschka Oskar 324, 325 Kolberg Oskar 298 Kolbuszewski Jacek 425 Kołtoński Aleksander 26 Kopeć Zbigniew 296 Korpała-Kirszak Ewa 154 Koschany Rafał 221 Kostkiewiczowa Teresa 65 Kowalczykowa Alina 53, 393 Kowalski Piotr 403 Kraszewski Józef Ignacy 119 Kreitler Hans 247, 255 Kruchonykh Aleksei 35, 182 Krzyżanowski Julian Kucała Marian 207, 280 Kucner Mieczysław 180 Kuczyńska Katarzyna 361 Kulawik Adam 421 Kupczyńska Kalina 49, 221, 246, 300, 376, 377 Kurek Jalu (Franciszek Kurek) 29, 31, 233, 265, 267 Kuźma Erazm 374 Kwiatkowska Alina 303 Kwiatkowski Jerzy 17, 360, 361, 395, 461, 464, 474 523 L Lachman Magdalena 49 Lacroix Adon (Donna Lecoeur) 248, 269, 272 Lalewicz Janusz 32, 61, 284 Lam Andrzej 14, 18, 26, 27, 184, 224, 226, 227, 231, 303, 339, 338, 396 Lange Antoni 65, 67, 160, 165 Langier Tadeusz 210, 226, 365 Lausberg Heinrich 37, 137 Lear Edward 305, 306 Lee Stephen Richard 102 Legatowicz Ignacy Piotr 388 Lehnert Herbert 184, 256, 259, 260, 300, 307 Leibniz Gottfried Wilhelm 153 Lekomceva Margarita 308 Lemański Jan 71, 72, 102, 383, 386 Lenarczyk Jerzy 154 Leonardo da Vinci 221 Leszczyński Edward 57 Leśmian Bolesław (B. Lesman) 203 Lewandowska Bożena 190, 264, 404 Liede Alfred 172, 233, 251, 304, 305, 359, 372 Ligęza Wojciech 236 Limprechtówna Anna 26 Lipski Jan Józef 28, 77, 87, 261, 397 Lipszyc Jarosław 475, 476 Lista Giovanni 44, 45, 87, 266, 279 Litwinow Jerzy 182 Lloyd George David 356 Lönnqvist Barbara 41, 149, 150, 152, 155, 168, 183, 191 Ludendorff Erich 376 Ł Łapiński Zdzisław 48, 453 M Maciejewska Irena 28, 451 Maciejewski Janusz 51, 59, 305 Maeterlinck Maurice 73 For Author use only 524 Index of names Majerski Paweł 16–18, 20, 21, 29, 225, 232, 252, 257, 258, 261, 264, 268, 270, 314, 366, 394, 397, 457 Majewicz Alfred F. 211, 255 Makowiecki Andrzej Z. 51 Makowiecki Tadeusz 52, 69 Makowski Tadeusz 245, 297, 411, 412, 417 Malczewski Jacek 82 Maleszyńska Joanna 98, 296 Malevich Kazimir 177 Mallarmé Stéphane 53, 73 Mandalian Andrzej 60, 381 Marinetti Filippo Tommaso 21–23, 26, 27, 29, 30, 34, 43–45, 87, 185, 221, 230, 235, 249–251, 264–269, 271, 272, 278–280, 331, 352, 361, 436, 454 Markiewicz Henryk 17, 21, 51, 52, 186 Markov Vladimir 168, 169, 183 Masson André 221 Masson David I. 32 Matuszewski Ignacy 59 Matuszewski Ryszard 182, 474 Mayakovsky Vladimir 21–23, 28–30, 81, 129, 148, 160, 183, 225, 395, 426, 433 Mayenowa Maria Renata 31, 32, 63, 153, 253, 383, 399, 403 Mehring Walter 224, 320, 375–377, 391, 454 Metzinger Jean 178 Meutsch Dietrich 32, 171, 285 Micińska Anna 11 Miciński Tadeusz 57, 64, 71, 74, 227 Mickiewicz Adam 119, 248, 333, 334, 336, 337, 339, 445–447 Miczka Tadeusz 185, 265, 279 Miller Jan Nepomucen 303, 397, 398, 457, 458 Miłosz Czesław 30, 73, 137, 225, 248, 249 Miodońska-Brookes Ewa 421 Mioduszewski Michał Marcin 414 Mirandola Franciszek (F. Pik) 122 Miturich Petr 148 Młodożeniec Stanisław 14–19, 28, 38, 39, 42, 44, 45, 47, 48, 111, 116, 117, 201, 207, 209, 210, 212, 224–226, 235, 249–252, 276–278, 280–282, 292, 302, 363, 367, 369, 370, 373, 375–377, 379–382, 389–391, 393, 395–397, 404–407, 411, 419, 421–423, 441, 442, 445, 449, 452, 453, 457–459, 461, 463, 472, 475, 477 Młynarska Henryka 265 Mocarska-Tycowa Zofia 398 Molinié Georges 36 Morier Henri 279, 383 Morsztyn Jan Andrzej 314 Moszyński Kazimierz 398–402, 407, 432 Motherwell Robert 221 Mozart Wolfgang Amadeus 371 Mueller Joanna 475, 476 Mussorgsky Modest 109 Mussolini Benito 356 N Naborowski Daniel 384 Narbutt Teodor 171 Nash Ogden 305, 306 Nasiłowska Anna 56 Nawarecki Aleksander 61, 71, 383, 385, 386 Niebrzegowska Stanisława 401 Niesiołowski Tymon 210, 226, 365 Nietzsche Friedrich Wilhelm 29, 53, 197 Nilsson Nils Åke 150, 174, 186, 197 Norwid Cyprian Kamil 79 Nowaczyński Adolf 65, 71, 72, 102, 240, 383, 387 Nycz Ryszard 18, 54, 73, 141, 142, 363, 397, 453, 475 O Okoń Jan 244 For Author use only Index of names Okopień-Sławińska Aleksandra 14, 19, 36, 37, 43, 44, 48, 67, 120, 122, 124, 138, 143, 179, 190, 247, 340, 344, 345, 374, 461, 469, 470 Olejniczak Józef 130, 162 Olkusz Piotr 49, 238, 241 Opacki Ireneusz 187 Opaliński Krzysztof 384 Ordyńska Zofia 257, 258 Orkan Władysław 57 Orzeszkowa Eliza 425 Ostrowska Bronisława 57 Ostrowski Witold 209 Ox Jack 276 P Palazzeschi Aldo (A. Giurlani) 272 Panas Władysław 130, 161 Papierkowski Stanisław K. 209 Parnis Aleksandr 40, 149 Pasternak Boris 175 Pastior Oskar 371 Paszek Jerzy 14, 31, 65, 72 Pawlak Przemysław 161, 171, 323 Pawlikowski Michał 68 Peiper Tadeusz 11, 16, 174, 209, 265, 309, 462–465, 467, 469–471 Perloff Marjorie 29, 139, 150, 151, 154 Petzold Dieter 305, 328 Philipp Eckhard 256 Picasso Pablo (P. Ruiz Blasco) 179, 325 Pieszczachowicz Jan 120, 313 Pietruszewska-Kobiela Grażyna 18, 263, 365 Pietrych Krystyna 130, 164, 165, 171, 236, 304 Piotrowska-Małek Teresa 276 Piotrowski Władysław 395 Pisarkowa Krystyna 380 Pythagoras 153 Plato (Aristocles) 153 Plesník L’ubomir 276 Plotinus 149 525 Płuciennik Jarosław 162, 163, 165– 169, 176, 179, 304, 349, 402 Podhorski-Okołów Leonard 380 Podraza-Kwiatkowska Maria 53–57, 60, 62, 65–67, 73 Poe Edgar Allan 53, 129 Poklewska Krystyna 57 Pokrasenowa Maria 28 Polański Edward 37 Polański Kazimierz 32, 280 Pollak Seweryn 147, 149, 153, 182 Pollakówna Joanna 18, 28, 30, 75, 87, 225, 226, 235, 242, 253, 299, 445, 447 Pollock Jackson 177 Pomorska Krystyna 55, 60, 73, 150– 152, 154, 155, 177–179, 217, 399 Pomorski Adam 41, 49, 65, 71, 147– 152, 155, 161, 184, 191, 196, 328 Porębski Mieczysław 178 Potebnya Andriy 33, 153 Prampolini Enrico 221 Preminger Alex 305 Prokop Jan 26, 27, 55, 73, 74, 352, 364, 469 Prosnak Hanna 154–156, 158, 160 Przyboś Julian 11, 209, 233, 296, 298, 309, 353, 462–470 Przybyszewski Stanisław 55, 57, 71, 73, 130 Pszczołowska Lucylla 14, 31, 32, 36, 53, 54, 59–63, 66, 117, 118, 124, 163, 174–176, 191, 216, 217, 282, 286, 291, 469, 470 Puchalska Mirosława 386 Pustkowski Henryk 179, 180, 186, 473 R Rabelais François 129, 197, 383 Radiante Revillo Cappari 185 Ratajczak Dobrochna 242, 414 Rawiński Marian 74, 395, 397, 402, 416–418, 426–429, 434, 435 Ribemont-Dessaignes Georges 219, 341, 342, 370, 391 For Author use only 526 Index of names Richter Hans 184, 221, 260, 307, 313, 319, 321, 339, 353 Riha Karl 186, 219, 220 Rilke Rainer Maria 372 Rimbaud Arthur (Jean Nicolas Arthur Rimbaud) 55, 58, 129, 130, 178 Robespierre Maximilien François Marie Isidore de 463 Rolicz-Lieder Wacław 57, 58, 62, 64, 65, 67, 74 Rutkowski Krzysztof 65, 130, 303 Rymkiewicz Jarosław Marek 60, 73 Rzewuski Wacław 64 Rzymowski Wincenty 21 S Sadowski Witold 474 Sanchez Mary 253 Sanouillet Michel 238 Sarbiewski Maciej Kazimierz 153 Saussure Ferdinand de 32, 61 Sawicka Jadwiga 181, 182, 187 Sawicki Stefan 402, 460–462 Schäfer Jörgen 219 Scheffer Bernd 222, 224, 250, 258, 272, 274, 276, 307, 310, 311, 362 Schelling Friedrich Wilhelm Joseph von 53 Schlegel August Wilhelm 153 Schmidt Paul 40, 149, 151 Schopenhauer Arthur 53 Schuldt Herbert 258 Schulz Bruno 133, 305 Schwitters Kurt 28, 90, 184, 187, 219, 220, 222, 224, 226, 236, 237, 248–250, 252, 255, 258, 261, 272, 274, 276, 277, 310–312, 321, 329, 362, 391, 454 Severyanin Igor (Igor Lotaryov) 23, 28, 80–82, 148, 193, 197, 202, 205, 207, 213, 214, 441, 454 Shakespeare William 129 Shaw Harry 37 Shipley Joseph T. 37, 305 Sidowska Karolina 49 Siedakowa Olga 155 Siedlecki Franciszek 148 Sierocka Krystyna 74, 395 Sikora Ireneusz 11, 56 Simonides Dorota 403 Skarbowski Jerzy 57 Skubalanka Teresa 13, 45, 82, 83, 116, 117, 131, 140, 141, 168, 207–209, 236, 282, 284, 317, 352 Skucińska Anna 117 Skwarczyńska Stefania 52, 61, 166, 186, 217, 240, 365, 421, 438 Sławińska Maria 26 Sławiński Janusz 13, 14, 18, 19, 36, 37, 42–45, 48, 51, 73, 74, 113, 114, 141, 179, 202, 207–209, 215, 216, 247, 249, 284, 304, 305, 317, 339, 345, 352, 361, 403, 450, 457, 469, 474, 475 Słonimski Antoni 48 Słowacki Juliusz 59, 258, 360 Smolińska Teresa 403 Smulski Jerzy 361 Sobieraj Sławomir 104, 396, 416 Sobieska Anna 54, 55, 58, 60, 150 Sobolewska Anna 361 Soupault Philippe 320 Spitzer Leo 383 Staff Leopold 54, 62, 63, 65, 67–69, 108, 328 Staff Ludwik Maria (Karol Staff) 68 Stahl Enno 153, 221, 222, 224, 236, 237, 250, 259, 260, 276, 310, 353, 359, 377 Starzyński Juliusz 53, 190, 242, 264, 404, 445 Stein Gertrude 139 Stempowski Jerzy 27, 221 Stepanov Nikolai 40, 148–150, 152, 155, 157, 160 Stern Anatol 11, 14–17, 19, 21, 27, 28, 30, 42, 47, 74, 93, 119–121, 124–128, 142, 144, 146, 161, 169, 193, 195, 196, 198, 199, 205, 206, 212, 214, 216, For Author use only Index of names 224–226, 231–233, 235, 246, 252, 259, 261–264, 269, 271–274, 276, 278, 279, 282, 306, 309, 312–319, 321, 327, 330– 332, 339, 357, 359, 362, 363, 365, 369, 370, 387, 389–391, 394, 396, 432, 442, 449, 453, 455–458, 461, 472, 475, 477 Sterna-Wachowiak Sergiusz 23, 26, 87, 189, 233, 285, 319, 397 Stewart Susan 255, 329 Stieglitz Alfred 391 Stopa Roman 263, 470 Stradecki Janusz 65 Stravinsky Igor 313 Strindberg August (Johan August Strindberg) 220 Stuck Franz von 355 Sulima Roch 399, 416 Sumorok Aleksandra 49 Szela Jakub 17, 426, 428, 429, 435, 463 Sztabiński Grzegorz 325 Szulc Tadeusz 52 Szymański Wiesław Paweł 461 Ś Ślósarska Joanna 31 Śniecikowska Beata 165, 171, 234, 251, 257, 303, 453, 454, 459, 462, 470, 473, 476 Śpiewak Jan 40 Świrek Anna 473 T Tanalska Anna 155, 399 Tatara Marian 421 Tatarowski Lesław 425 Taylor John R. 117 Tetmajer Kazimierz Przerwa 54, 56, 57, 59, 62, 67, 68, 102 Tigges Wim 177, 305, 309, 320, 321, 328, 329 Timoszewicz Jerzy 221 Tison-Braun Micheline 223 Tokarska-Bakir Joanna 171, 402 Tokarski Ryszard 208 527 Tomaszewski Mieczysław 53, 58 Trznadel Jacek 20, 28 Trzynadlowski Jan 19, 67, 74, 243, 393, 396, 470 Tsur Reuven 31, 32, 171, 370 Tsvetaeva Marina 175 Turowski Andrzej 325, 396 Tuwim Julian 65, 74, 148, 165–168, 179, 180, 182, 185–188, 209, 210, 279, 314, 322, 381, 471 Tynecka-Makowska Słowinia 383, 417, 434 Tzara Tristan (Samuel Rosenstock) 21, 22, 28, 219–223, 226, 230, 231, 238, 249, 254, 255, 257, 261, 288, 289, 300–302, 307, 310, 319, 329, 371, 391, 454 U Ugniewska Joanna 265 Ujejski Kornel 57, 58, 61 Ulicka Danuta 52, 276 Urbańczyk Stanisław 207, 280 V Venclova Tomas 18, 19, 27, 28, 128– 130, 136, 138, 140, 141, 146, 169, 172, 236, 305 Verhaeren Emile 23 Verkauf Willy 223, 306, 328 Verlaine Paul Marie 53, 59, 73, 77, 79 Vieho Reinhold 32, 171, 285 Villon François 129 Vossler Karl 383 Vroon Ronald 40, 147, 148, 150–152, 155, 157–161, 178, 179, 195, 201, 203, 204 W Wagner Richard (Wilhelm Richard Wagner) 53, 55 Walas Teresa 51, 55 Walewska-Wielopolska Maria Jehanne (later M. J. StrzemięJanowska) 135, 355 For Author use only 528 Index of names Walicka Janina 219 Waliszewski Zygmunt 426 Warren Austin 251 Waszakowa Krystyna 208, 209 Waśkiewicz Andrzej Krzysztof 15– 17, 19–21, 231, 253, 262, 365, 367 Wat Aleksander (A. Chwat) 11, 14–19, 21, 27–30, 39, 42, 45, 47, 65, 74, 128–142, 144, 146, 148, 161–163, 165–167, 169–172, 175–180, 183, 185, 192–194, 201, 205, 208, 210, 213, 216, 224–226, 231–233, 235, 236, 241, 303, 305, 306, 313–315, 322, 323, 326, 327, 354, 361, 385, 390, 391, 394, 396, 449, 453, 457, 459, 461, 472, 475, 477 Waugh Linda 32, 171, 180, 253, 383 Ważyk Adam (A. Wagman) 16, 19–21, 279, 308, 313, 322, 331, 333, 463 Webster Michael 250 Wellek René 251 Whitman Walt 233 Wierzyński Kazimierz (K. Wirstlein) 148 Wikszemski Mamert 57 Wilhelm II, German Emperor 324, 376 Wilkoń Aleksander 36, 63, 421 Wirpsza Witold 473 Witkiewicz Stanisław Ignacy (Witkacy) 19, 129, 179, 220, 226, 242, 303, 306, 331 Witwicki Stefan 58 Woroszylski Wiktor 60, 381 Wóycicki Kazimierz 31, 61, 380 Wyczańska Irena 17, 395, 461 Wyka Kazimierz 27, 32, 51, 55, 74, 161, 243, 244, 271, 365 Wyka Marta 77, 98, 284, 285, 299, 411, 418 Wyspiański Stanisław 62–64 Y Yakubinsky Lev 32 Yesenin Sergei 21, 28, 395 Z Zagórski Włodzimierz 59 Zan Tomasz 58, 119 Zawadowski Leon Zaworska Helena 11, 15, 17–20, 28, 29, 74, 82, 108, 116, 127, 141, 163, 166, 167, 213, 220–223, 230, 231, 248, 259, 263, 264, 272, 286, 305, 316, 328, 340, 393–397, 431 Zegadłowicz Emil 450, 451 Zgorzelski Czesław 52, 69 Zieliński Jan 11 Zieliński Tadeusz 148 Ziomek Jerzy 137 Ż Żabicki Zbigniew 17, 271, 474 Żeleński Tadeusz (Boy) 383 Żeromski Stefan 232, 267, 435 Żółkiewski Stefan 19, 82, 264 Żukowska Kazimiera 384 Żurawska-Citarelli Jolanta 26, 27, 265 Żurowski Maciej 251 For Author use only Index of terms A alliteration 14, 15, 63, 64, 69, 70, 78, 82, 92, 93, 96, 98, 108, 110, 111, 113, 121, 125, 126, 128, 133, 136, 155, 177, 197, 201, 202, 203, 207, 208, 211, 212, 217, 254, 256, 292, 317, 320, 324, 329, 330, 339, 343, 353, 355, 357, 365, 367, 374, 377, 382, 383, 385, 405, 435, 436, 437, 439, 440, 441, 455, 462, 464, 466, 470, 471 anagram 36, 161, 163, 170, 274 anaphora 14, 64, 70, 80, 82, 96, 101, 120, 128, 136, 285, 370, 416, 418, 424, 428, 429, 431, 434, 436, 441, 444, 463 Art Nouveau 26, 69, 77, 82, 127, 130, 133, 137, 138, 141, 393 assonance 14, 63, 64, 66, 67, 70, 82, 93, 110, 111, 113, 116, 120, 125, 133, 197, 211, 254, 314, 329, 330, 349, 352, 355, 367, 374, 437, 457 B bruitism 221, 247, 259, 261, 271, 289, 300, 302, 379, 477 C Cabaret Voltaire 184, 223, 224, 318, 394, 395 cacophony 99, 217, 221, 247, 248, 259, 261, 271, 289, 300, 302, 376, 477 carol 58, 242, 244, 249, 402, 410, 412, 414, 415, 416, 435 children’s counting-out rhymes – see: enumeration coinage (see also: neologism) 147, 150, 162, 166, 176, 178, 201, 207– 209, 289 consonance 14, 63, 64, 70, 82, 93, 111, 120, 125, 126, 128, 133, 197, 254, 311, 317, 318, 329, 330, 352, 355, 381, 367, 373, 374, 377 cubism 30, 51, 177, 178, 179, 184, 216, 241, 325, 333, 515 – sound cubism 178, 184, 216, 515 Cubo-Futurism – see: Russian Futurism D Dadaism 17, 27, 30, 31, 34, 47, 130, 185, 219, 220, 222, 223, 224, 225, 226, 227, 231, 233, 234, 237, 238, 241, 244, 247, 248, 252, 253, 255, 261, 263, 264, 265, 272, 274, 283, 295, 299, 300, 301, 306, 308, 310, 319, 321, 322, 327, 328, 329, 331, 333, 338, 357, 359, 362, 363, 372, 373, 379, 382, 389, 390, 391, 392, 395, 396, 411, 454, 460 E echolalia 14, 34, 109, 113, 151, 158, 186, 188, 224, 236, 240, 241, 242, 244, 245, 248, 255, 261, 265, 268, 269, 270, 271, 272, 274, 277, 285, 287, 292, 296, 301, 302, 304, 389, 400, 320, 444, 452, 454, 462 expressionism 17, 51, 54, 71, 78, 102, 108, 128, 184, 227, 233, 324, 325, 328, 377, 457 enumeration 156, 272, 332, 333, 342, 346, 347, 360, 361, 362, 366, 367, 380, 381, 390, 440, 454, 459, 473 etymological figure 37, 64, 77, 90, 157, 160, 162, 164, 172, 175, 176, 191, 192, 195, 196, 198, 203, 205, 212, 215, 269, 325, 329, 330, 343, 346, 349, 360, 371, 374, 377, 383, 387, 400, 402, 407, 424, 436, 437, 440, 454, 458, 459, 463, 464, 466, 467, 469, 471–473 euphony 34, 56, 71, 72, 75, 116, 117, 126, 131, 132, 133, 137, 138, 141, 153, 180, 216, 217, 220, 248, 278, 327, 354, 477 For Author use only 530 Index of terms F folklore 46, 67, 68, 140, 144, 145, 168, 213, 244, 245, 255, 257, 258, 261, 278, 295, 296, 300, 365, 366, 367, 390, 393, 394, 395, 396, 397, 398, 399, 400, 401, 403, 405, 407, 411, 413, 415, 416, 417, 418, 419, 421, 422, 423, 426, 428, 429, 431, 431, 432, 433, 435, 436, 437, 440, 441, 442, 444, 445, 446, 447, 449, 450, 451, 452, 455, 459, 460, 471 Formism 17, 18, 75, 86, 87, 105, 341, 396, 398, 411 free verse 66, 69, 90, 185 G glossolalia 14, 34, 113, 151, 158, 171, 173, 180, 185, 186, 188, 224, 235, 240, 241, 242, 244, 245, 247, 248, 252, 253, 258, 260, 261, 263, 265, 268, 269, 270, 271, 272, 274, 277, 278, 282, 288, 289, 295, 296, 297, 298, 299, 300, 301, 304, 307, 330, 366, 367, 372, 380, 389, 390, 399, 412, 414, 450, 454, 455, 459, 462, 466 grotesque 65, 68, 71, 80, 102, 104, 141, 143, 150, 173, 185, 223, 309, 324, 331, 332, 338, 340, 342, 376, 377, 379, 382, 383, 389, 435, 473 H homophony 43, 140, 145, 146, 157, 161, 162, 163, 164, 173, 188, 192, 195, 196, 203, 204, 207, 212, 215, 216, 252, 255, 310, 313, 317, 324, 330, 331, 366, 367, 369, 370, 382, 417, 435, 437, 463, 469 Hylaea – see: Russian Futurism I impressionism 51, 71, 177, 179, 328 intonation 69, 243, 276, 277 Italian Futurism 17, 21–23, 26, 27, 29, 30, 34, 43–45, 47, 87, 185, 221, 230, 235, 241, 249–251, 264–269, 271, 272, 278–280, 308, 331, 352, 354, 361, 379, 395, 396, 436, 454, 482, 496 irregular sound instrumentation – see: sound instrumentation J juxtaposition 143, 192, 268, 310, 332, 333, 342, 346, 347, 350, 353, 354, 360, 361, 362, 374, 390, 399, 433, 435, 454, 459, 472, 473 K Kraków Avant-garde 15, 16, 42, 43, 174, 461, 462, 463, 464, 466, 469, 470, 471, 473, 474, 475, 477, 484, 501 L leitmotif 14, 67, 79, 80, 96, 101 lexical repetition (see also: anaphora, parallelism, polyptoton, refrain) 36, 39, 41, 64, 66, 68, 70, 71, 77, 80, 82, 90, 92, 95, 96, 101, 108, 109, 110, 113, 133, 136, 137, 138, 139, 140, 141, 143, 167, 175, 201, 204, 211, 254, 256, 292, 329, 349, 350, 352, 365, 370, 382, 398, 401, 402, 403, 405, 407, 408, 409, 421, 422, 424, 428, 429, 431, 435, 436, 440, 441, 444, 446, 447, 449, 459, 463, 464, 470 linguistic poetry 129, 385, 473, 475, 485, 503 M melody, melodiousness 53, 56, 66, 68, 80, 81, 83, 86, 91, 92, 101, 103, 123, 124, 377, 405, 458 mirohłady (sg. mirohład) 163, 176, 179, 180–182, 184, 186–188, 212, 216, 240, 249, 256, 304, 329, 330, 373 modernism 51, 74, 119, 130, 133, 137, 139, 150, 432, 475, 476, 495 For Author use only Index of terms mots en liberté – see: words-in-­ freedom musicality 31, 46, 51, 52, 53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 75, 80, 82, 83, 84, 92, 101, 102, 117, 122, 123, 127, 128, 142, 143, 144, 171, 248, 370, 405, 463 N namopaniki (sg. namopanik) 161– 177, 179, 186, 188, 190, 193, 197, 204, 206, 208, 210, 211–217, 240, 304, 322–325, 329–332, 454–455 neologism 44, 101, 132, 147, 160, 163, 164, 170, 185, 191, 195, 198, 207, 210, 247, 261, 289, 362, 372, 407, 440, 467 nonsense (see also: pure nonsense) 47, 140, 166, 177, 185, 186, 199, 206, 226, 231, 233, 255, 256, 288, 303–306, 308, 309, 313, 314, 318, 319–325, 327–331, 333, 340, 346, 359, 361, 373, 382, 390, 442, 454, 471, 474 Nowa Sztuka 16, 17, 59, 332, 457 O onomatopoeia 14, 39, 42, 43, 47, 60–62, 64, 65, 69–71, 78, 82, 92, 96, 98, 108, 113, 116–119, 120, 122, 125, 133, 136, 141, 187, 231, 239, 241–244, 249, 251, 253, 256, 265–272, 277–285, 287–291, 293–298, 300–302, 310, 329, 346, 352, 353, 379, 380, 400, 412–414, 419, 423, 440, 447, 451, 454, 455, 457, 463, 464 P palindrome 168, 258, 314 paralellism (see also: anaphora, lexical repetition, refrain) 14, 32, 36, 39, 41, 57, 63, 64, 66, 67, 70, 71, 77, 78, 80, 82, 90, 92, 95, 96, 101, 108, 109, 111, 117, 120, 128, 136, 137, 139, 167, 171, 174, 190, 197, 203, 211, 531 215–217, 239, 249, 253, 254, 256, 270, 276–278, 285, 329, 352, 362, 365, 366, 369, 370, 373, 377, 398, 401–403, 405, 407, 411, 416–419, 421, 422, 424, 425, 428, 429, 431, 433, 434, 436, 437, 440, 441, 444, 447, 452, 463 – formal 20, 56, 141, 189, 226, 331, 399, 428 – logical 137, 153, 174, 186, 215. 307, 319, 321, 331, 339, 369–371, 390, 399, 428, 464 – syntactical 42, 61, 188, 399 parechesis 36, 120, 170, 192, 318, 385, 405, 441 parody 65, 118–120, 123, 128, 132, 133, 136, 141, 142, 144, 163, 173, 183, 196, 203, 210, 231, 261, 270, 327, 372, 403, 405, 450, 451 parole in libertà (see also: words-infreedom) 42, 44, 78, 87, 90, 108, 113, 130, 143, 146, 161, 185, 190, 215, 251, 264, 265, 345, 349, 380, 455, 459, 472 paronomasia (see also: etymological figure, pseudo-etymological figure, paronym, paronymy) 14, 36, 37, 110, 120, 139, 176, 197, 370, 385, 405, 436, 469 paronym (see also: paronomasia) 36, 37, 441 paronymy (see also: paronomasia) 181 phonostylistics (see also: sound instrumentation) 14, 20, 46, 77, 108, 112, 140–142, 144, 145, 173, 280, 359, 398, 403, 406, 419, 427, 435, 438, 442, 452, 455, 458, 459, 471, 472, 476 poème simultané – see: simultaneous poem polyptoton 14, 36, 37, 41, 64, 78, 136, 250, 349, 365, 367, 374, 387, 407, 436, 467 primitivism 129, 144, 232, 248, 249, 254, 255, 258–261, 272–277, 285, 300, For Author use only 532 Index of terms 363, 366, 367, 393–396, 411, 432, 450, 454, 463 pseudo-etymological figure 37, 64, 90, 120, 157, 163, 172, 175, 176, 191, 195, 205, 206, 212–215, 312, 313, 329, 330, 339, 343, 346, 350, 359, 360, 370, 371, 374, 377, 383, 387, 402, 435, 440–442, 454, 455, 458, 459, 463, 464, 466, 467, 469–473 pure nonsense 47, 166, 186, 199, 206, 303–306, 308, 309, 313, 314, 318–325, 327–331, 333, 340, 359, 361, 390, 442, 454, 471, 474 R refrain 57, 67, 70, 96, 101, 108, 136, 197, 362, 366, 370, 377, 398, 405, 416, 417, 421, 422, 424, 425, 444, 452 rhyme 13, 65, 67, 69, 82, 118, 126, 191, 255, 317, 340, 352, 362, 365, 380, 400, 406, 407, 419, 421, 436, 437, 440, 455, 470, 471, 475 – rich 55, 71, 160, 210, 211, 252, 291, 374, 377, 385, 424, 428, 430, 434, 446, 471, 472, 475 – banal 94, 117, 128, 144, 444, 477 – grammatical 66, 108, 243, 400, 402, 410, 424, 444, 446 – partial 124, 312, 437 – irregular 13, 66, 67, 105, 120, 340, 352, 380, 440, 471 – composite 66, 126 – difficult (sophisticated, rare) 15, 67, 124, 168, 463 – tautological 64, 66, 126, 352, 407 – internal 64, 66, 93, 120, 124, 126, 203, 255, 317, 320, 355, 377, 380, 381, 405, 407, 437, 462, 470 Russian Futurism 27, 30, 31, 41, 148– 161, 177, 178, 183, 224, 225, 279 – Cubo-Futurism 29, 148–161, 182, 183 S simultaneous poem 221, 236, 272, 289, 300 słopiewnie (sg. słopiewnia) 166, 167, 179, 180–182, 186–188, 192, 196, 209, 211, 212, 216, 240, 299, 300, 304, 474 Skamander 17, 131, 187, 210, 234, 305, 463, 502 sound imitation – see: onomatopoeia sound instrumentation (irregular sound instrumentation, phonostylistics) 454, 459, 461, 469, 475 surrealism 27, 51, 129, 185, 219, 220, 221, 222, 223, 237, 241, 274, 307, 308, 309, 319, 328, 341, 354, 361, 362, 371, 379, 391 symbolism 28, 51, 53–67, 71–75, 80–87, 90–99, 102, 108–130, 133, 136–144, 148, 150, 160, 177, 217, 220–226, 259, 265, 280–281, 297, 307, 309, 327, 341, 342, 354, 361, 407, 408, 419, 432, 433, 437, 440–442, 450, 451, 458, 461, 477 – French 53–56, 59, 60, 73, 77–79, 73 – Russian 54, 55, 60, 61, 80, 81, 148, 150, 381, 395 synaesthesia 55, 56, 65, 71, 86, 93, 94, 101, 108, 121, 125, 135, 136, 284, 301 T transrational language – see: zaum transmental language – see: zaum typography 13, 47, 87, 90, 92, 110, 111, 142–145, 232, 234, 243, 261, 265, 270, 338, 455, 459 V vers libre – see: free verse W words-in-freedom (see also: parole in libertà) 78, 87, 90, 108, 130, 143, 146, 185, 190, 215, 264 For Author use only Index of terms word formation – see: neologism Y Young Poland 15, 20, 33, 46, 51, 52, 53, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 63–146, 172, 177, 191, 196, 217, 234, 240, 248, 272, 273, 280, 310, 355, 365, 383, 389, 393, 533 394, 396, 406, 407, 432, 446, 447, 452, 455, 458, 459, 471 Z zaum 28, 29, 31, 33, 34, 35, 130, 149, 150, 152, 153, 157, 158, 161, 163, 173, 181, 182, 183, 191, 195 For Author use only For Author use only Cross-Roads Studies in Culture, Literary Theory, and History Edited by Ryszard Nycz Vol. 1 Małgorzata Budzowska: Phaedra – Ethics of Emotions in the Tragedies of Euripides, Seneca and Racine. Translated by Adriana Grzelak-Krzymianowska. 2012. Vol. 2 Andrzej Zawadzki: Literature and Weak Thought. Translated by Stanley Bill (in consultation with Benjamin Koschalka). 2013. Vol. 3 Maria Janion: Hero, Conspiracy, and Death: The Jewish Lectures. Translated by Alex Shannon. 2014. Vol. 4 Grzegorz Grochowski / Ryszard Nycz (eds.): From Modern Theory to a Poetics of Experience. Polish Studies in Literary History and Theory. 2014. Vol. 5 Anna Nasiłowska (ed.): Wisława Szymborska´s poetry. Choice of Essays. Translated by Karolina Krasuska and Jędrzej Burszta. 2015. Vol. 6 Zdzisław Łapiński (ed.): “Miłosz Like the World”. Poet in the Eyes of Polish Literary Critics. Translated by Grzegorz Czemiel. 2015. Vol. 7 Włodzimierz Bolecki: A World Apart by Gustaw Herling. Translated by Agnieszka Kołakowska. 2015. Vol. 8 Jakub Momro: Literature of Consciousness. Samuel Beckett – Subject – Negativity. Translated by Jan Pytalski and Cain Elliott. 2015. Vol. 9 Katarzyna Majbroda: Clifford Geertz’s Interpretive Anthropology. Between Text, Experience and Theory. Translated by Izabela Kołbon, Zuzanna Buchowska and Olga Ranus. 2016. Vol. 10 Michał Głowiński: Myths in Disguise. Translated by Grzegorz Czemiel and Stanley Bill. 2018. Vol. 11 Mikołaj Golubiewski: The Persona of Czesław Miłosz. Authorial Poetics, Critical Debates, Reception Games. 2018. Vol. 12 Adam Dziadek: Somatic Criticism Project. Translated by Lindsay Davidson. 2018. Vol. 13 Piotr Sobolczyk: The Worldview, the Trope, and the Critic. Critical Discourses on Miron Białoszewski. Translated by Jan Burzyński. 2018. Vol. 14 Małgorzata Czermińska: The Autobiographical Triangle. Witness, Confession, Challenge. 2019. Vol. 15 Krzysztof Trybuś: Romantic Memory. Studies from the Past and Present. Translated by Klara Naszkowska. 2019. Vol. 16 Piotr de Bończa Bukowski / Magda Heydel (eds.): Polish Translation Studies in Action. Concepts – Methodologies – Applications. A Reader. 2019. Vol. 17 Tamara Brzostowska-Tereszkiewicz / Magdalena Rembowska-Płuciennik / Beata Śniecikowska (eds.): Understanding Misunderstanding. Vol.1: Cross-Cultural Translation. 2019. Vol. 18 Tamara Brzostowska-Tereszkiewicz / Magdalena Rembowska-Płuciennik / Beata Śniecikowska (eds.): Understanding Misunderstanding. Vol. 2: Artistic Practices. 2019. For Author use only Vol. 19 Wojciech Ligęza: World under Revision. The Poetry of Wisława Szymborska. Translated by Mikołaj Golubiewski. 2019. Vol. 20 Paweł Dybel: Psychoanalysis – the Promised Land? The History of Psychoanalysis in Poland 1900–1989. Part I. The Sturm und Drang Period. Beginnings of Psychoanalysis in the Polish Lands during the Partitions 1900–1918. Translated by Tomasz Bieroń. 2019. Vol. 21 Kamila Budrowska: Writers, Literature and Censorship in Poland. 1948–1958. Translated by Paul A. Vickers. 2019. Vol. 22 Krzysztof Trybuś (ed.): The Literature of Polish Romanticism in Its European Contexts. 2020. Vol. 23 Maryla Hopfinger: Literature and Media. After 1989. Translated by Andrzej Wojtasik. 2020. Vol. 24 Ewa Bobrowska: UCI Critical Theory and Contemporary Art Practice: Jacques Derrida, Jean-François Lyotard, Bruce Nauman, and Others. With a Prologue by Georges Van Den Abbeele. 2020. Vol. 25 Maciej Nowak: On an Electric Arc. Andrzej Bobkowski Writing. Translated by Mikołaj Golubiewskie and Jan Burzyński. 2020. Vol. 26 Tomasz Garbol: After the Fall. On the Writings of Czesław Miłosz. Translated by Mikołaj Golubiewskie and Jan Burzyński. 2020. Vol. 27 Agnieszka Kluba: The Prose Poem As a (Non)Genre. A Polish Case Study. Translated by Jakob Ziguras. 2021. Vol. 28 Beata Śniecikowska: Transcultural Haiku. Polish History of the Genre. Translated by Justyn Hunia. 2021. Vol. 29 Pauls Daija / Benedikts Kalnačs (eds.): A New History of Latvian Literature. The Long Nineteenth Century. 2022. Vol. 30 Barbara Englender: Photo-Graphemicality. Photography and Poetry at the Turn of the 21st Century. 2022. Vol. 31 Beata Śniecikowska: A Stab in the Ear. Poetics of Sound in Futurism and Dadaism. Translated by Grzegorz Czemiel. 2023. www.peterlang.com For Author use only