Descartes

The poem we read last Tuesday, My Tea with Madame Descartes, gave me renewed hope in poetry. I felt, almost, as if it were more of a characterization in a novel than a poetic description. While reading the words, the author painted a vivid picture of this women to me. I could imagine her and the way she would speak, the tones she would use and the old luxurious breathy voice I would hear as she explained her life away.

I've come to realize literature isn't just telling a story, it's painting a picture. There is a distinct connection between literature and imagery. By this I mean, photos, drawings, paintins, and anything that gives a visual of the story. In fact, the very words alone are the same as a photo, however one must individually draw out the image. The words can only go so far and we must take those and apply the textures, smells, and sounds, ourselves.

I generally read for plot. But I see the value in the character, in the place, the sounds, and the feelings. In this case, Madame Descartes has so much history and character in her that it takes the palce of plot. Just here personality and what she has done makes up more than enough for the lack of a story plot or eventful progression. There is a small one in the poem but there is more weight being placed simply on her as a character. It's great stuff.