Gone Fishing by the teacupped tears

The frying/remapping of Bishop's "The Fish" presented an eye-opening and important exploration/demonstration of form, particularly how form pertains to modification of content (because all content has to be delivered in some body). To impose some form of order onto this entry, I'll start by addressing the questions raised in the English 240 Blog.

What do you notice about the form of this mapping?
It displays a consistency, a certain regularity in the appearance of certain words that contrasts with the murkier image presented through these words. This lends a haunting sort of quality to the piece, with words like tears and almanac, child and grandmother iterating at constant intervals; the rest of the poem (in between these iterations) seems to flesh out one possible interaction between the words, creating an atmosphere, an illusion that ascends to a place where interpretation of this interaction is possible.

The poem consists of seven stanzas, all but the last one consisting of six lines each. The last line of each stanza becomes the last word in the first line of its successor. Visually, it presents a boxy form, each line stacking on top of each other, each stanza building like blocks into a final poem. Each stanza, it seems, could also stand alone, revolving in its own orbit while also participating in a greater whole, also revolving around some axis (is this axis Bishop's intent? or perhaps reader-constructed?).

What, if anything appeals (to you) about the mapping of a poam as a sestina?
Sestinas have this mysterious quality to them; perhaps its because they visually represent what occurs so naturally in audition--echoing, a sound shadowing of sorts; they allow exploration of shadows in general. While reading Sestina, I couldn't dislodge the--indeed--shadowy image of the almanac fluttering like Death against some brackish brown wall from the back of my eyes and mind (and throat; was the poem a passage from that almanac?). Meaning--a complete body of meaning--is harder to derive because the shadows cast are so fascinatingly enticing in their movement, so distracting that I am tempted to play more with the visual possibilities evoked by such a form, than focus on the ideas built by the words. Perhaps this is what makes sestinas relatively "inaccessible," in that it doesn't appeal to the expected response pattern of the reader, but arouses another pathway less illuminated by words on the page.

What are your ideas about the (continued) purpose of such mapping?
As with any established form, there is no reason why it should be discarded/discontinued. It is a system of arranging interactions, perhaps not the one that maximizes interactions or even fosters optimal results (but what really is optimal? is there a way to say when no one knows the End?), but still another one of infinite systems that bring certain ways of seeing/knowing into light. It is good practice for a writer (or anyone looking to gain more fiber for thought) to attempt this particular blueprint and observe how the process of fleshing out changes their intention, or, if they begin intention-less, the mechanism by which it leads to intention. Perhaps one might attempt to translate a sestina into another dimension. Or perhaps the sestina is already a translation of something that already happens elsewhere--the recording of an observation that evolves into a receptacle itself.

How might you describe the relationship between map (form) and idea in Bishop's Sestina and in Bishop's The Fish (as published) and in one alternative mapping (either one of the provided remappings --here or here-- and/or a remapping that you make yourself).
Bishop's approach to both poems is visually simple, stately almost. It is as if she is directing the reader to focus on the words themselves, while also building a relatively accessible frame; the simplicity of diction and syntax allow the reader to form vivid visuals himself. It almost reads like a prose narrative, except for the line breaks that allow language to be a little more dramatic without sounding over-the-top or silly as they would in prose (too much drama for one line!). In poetry, however, this serves to heighten the impact of imagery and the resonance of the lines. The most notable feature of "Fish's" remapping (pdf version) is the dissolving of a certain solidity present in the original. The poem seems to be split down the middle almost, and the eye scanning from line to line will sometimes want to jump--incongruently. In this case, the eye is like the fish, collecting pieces of disjointed data. The rainbow encountered at the end of this version is breathless, disorienting.

Now for the cheat because I'm running out of gas (though I would love to let this ferment in its virgin state for a much longer period of time). Let me first say that I find the concept of the cheat quite stimulating--it reminds me of a Hart Crane quote I read once, "I have come to the stage now where I want to carefully choose my most congenial influences, and in a way, 'cultivate' their influence." I wonder if it is at all possible to have an original thought, and whether this matters or not. Interaction provides a much more fecund ground. It is interesting that one could control the repercussions of actions outside oneself just by directing oneself. This is powerful and limiting in a way, but offers another tether--and tethers are necessary to going anywhere in a gravitational field.
It is interesting that the cheat mentioned: " When poets write sestinas, they tend to put the word "sestina" in the titles. They want readers to realize the level of work and difficulty involved in writing the poem." This is one of the reasons we discussed in class, though it seems like a rather superficial one, especially since a later comment implies that it is important for readers not to be too aware that the poem is actually a sestina. We also discussed in class how Bishop might have named the piece sestina because she was really writing about a sestina (would explain all the references to prediction and repetition) and demonstrating the limitations of that form.