Classics and the Western Canon discussion

To celebrate National Poetry Month, I have selected one of my favorite poems for week 2 of our interim read: “Curiosity” by Alastair Reid. I hope you enjoy it.

A link to the poem, including a reading by Alastair Reid: https://poetryarchive.org/poem/curios...

Some things to think about as you read the poem:
On a literal level, the poem sets up a contrast between cats and dogs. On a metaphorical level, it explores the different approaches to life as embraced by different types of people. What do you think of the two approaches? Which approach is more admirable? Why?

Why is curiosity dangerous? Dangerous to whom?

What is the poet suggesting about pain and suffering?

Tamara -- what a poem to give us! I shall share it with a friend who is very active in a poetry group that meets regularly in a library in our community. She read to me their most recent collection of responses to prompts distributed the previous week, all on this lovely sunny afternoon as we looked out from a hillside over a collection of cherry trees in full bloom around a town pond below and across the road from where we had parked. (Two robins even entertained us from the among those soft pink blooms.) It is my understanding, like in apparently many other locations, these cherry trees were a gift from Japan after WWII.

I wonder how old Alastair Reid was when he wrote this poem. What factors in his world stirred him on that particular day (or days) that he wrote.

This obituary for Reid is full of astounding tidbits about his life and writing: https://www.theguardian.com/books/201...

With humor and a light touch, the poem sets up a dichotomy between certain sets of traits, contrasting curiosity and experimentation (cat, some people) with acceptance of the established order (dog, some people). The poet even implies that there is a dislike of people on one side for the other, similar to the proverbial dislike of cats and dogs.

Whether the poet really liked cats better than dogs, here he adopts a cat-like persona of curiosity and change. It’s interesting how he riffs on proverbial sayings like “curiosity killed the cat,” “cats have nine lives,” and “fighting like cats and dogs” through the poem.

Lily wrote: "Tamara -- what a poem to give us! I shall share it with a friend who is very active in a poetry group that meets regularly in a library in our community. She read to me their most recent collection..."

I'm so glad you enjoyed it, Lily. And thank you for the link to Reid's obituary. He seems to have led an interesting and adventurous life.

Susan wrote: "It’s interesting how he riffs on proverbial sayings like “curiosity killed the cat,” “cats have nine lives,” and “fighting like cats and dogs” through the poem.."

I enjoyed that aspect of the poem, as well. I love that cats "smell rats," and "have hunches." I particularly like that they chill all dinner tables with tales of their nine lives.

I can just see it: a cat-like person puncturing a polite and superficial dinner conversation with his/her probing questions and comments, causing the dinner guests to squirm uncomfortably in their seats before they make a hasty retreat for the exit.

You gotta love it :)

Here is a gentle prod:
Who are the "cat-people" of the world? Who are the "dog-people" of the world?

Which leads me to this:
Dogs accuse cats of irresponsibility. But doesn't the difference between being seen as responsible or irresponsible depend on the outcome? For example, if I succeed in going where no one has gone before or doing something no one has done before and my action benefits others, I am called a trailblazer. Am I still a trailblazer if I fail? Or do I risk being labeled irresponsible?

It is wondefully whimsical. But I couldn't help hearing echos of the battle between religion and science as often borrowed from Russel's critique of William James' The Will to Believe

What is wanted is not the will to believe, but the wish to find out, which is the exact opposite.

Russell, Bertrand. Sceptical Essays (Routledge Classics) (p. 131). Taylor and Francis. Kindle Edition.

From there I had trouble extending the metaphor, but mostly because of the cognitive dissonance it creates between my praise of curiosity and my love for dogs.

David wrote: "It is wondefully whimsical. But I couldn't help hearing echos of the battle between religion an science as often borrowed from Russel's critique of William James' The Will to Believe..."

You hear echoes of Russell, I hear echoes of Eliot:

But yet a Dog is, on the whole,
What you would call a simple soul. . .
The usual Dog about the Town
Is much inclined to play the clown,
And far from showing too much pride
Is frequently undignified.
He's very easily taken in--
Just chuck him underneath the chin
Or slap his back or shake his paw,
And he will gambol and guffaw.
He's such an easy going lout,
He'll answer any hail or shout.

Again I must remind you that
A Dog's a Dog--a Cat's a Cat . . .

Before a Cat will condescend
To treat you as a trusted friend,
Some little token of esteem
Is needed, like a dish of cream;
And you might now and then supply
Some caviare, or Strassburg pie,
Some potted grouse, or salmon paste--
He's sure to have his personal taste.

From "The Ad-dressing of Cats" by T. S. Eliot

David wrote: "It is wondefully whimsical. But I couldn't help hearing echos of the battle between religion and science as often borrowed from Russel's critique of William James' [book:The Will to Believe|6957998..."

As an owner and lover of a dog and a cat, I do find cats incredibly inquisitive (and troublesome!) but apart from the proverbial difference between dogs and cats, I wonder how people differ in their attitudes toward the unknown. What is it that cause this kind of difference between questioning and believing or challenging and asking? Do we just conclude that a dog's a dog and a cat's a cat... or do we question WHY the difference exists in people? It's the sort of question I have whenever I, as an atheist, discuss faith with my mother(who's a protestant) or my husband (a catholic) : what causes you to believe (or want to believe) and why do I not care to believe? They have a similar question whenever they ask me why I read and study so many different stuff I'm not even required to study such as philosophy or literature or even geology or quantum physics.

I think religion is trying to give and accept a belief as an answer to the questions that rise in life whereas science asks the question and tries to give a quantified answer to how much we CAN know (albeit very little) and how much we can't, whereas philosophy acknowledges that answers are not given for certain but doesn't give up and keeps asking even the questions that we can't answer.
Maybe it's because we are more unsatisfied with the given answer or because we're more 'doggedly' persistent with our curiosity, or maybe we have a hunch that a life without questioning or striving is more like death. I have been reading Heraclitus' Fragments and Spinoza's Ethics and I've been linking the readings of the constant flux and dissonance harmonized into one unity and Spinoza's conatus with how cells keep living and maintaining homeostasis through the constant to-ing and fro-ing of chemical or physical properties, and how electrons are paired with opposite spins to maintain their existence. This rang in the cat's "contradictory, curious enough to change, ... to die and die again and again" and "dying is what the living do"
What would life (and the mind) be like when we have no strife or the energy to question? Either a very relaxed and contented one or a very dull and depressing one.

David wrote: "From there I had trouble extending the metaphor, but mostly because of the cognitive dissonance it creates between my praise of curiosity and my love for dogs..."

Dave -- LOL. you remind me of a headline I saw this week about somebody (group, think tank, academic???) who apparently is going back to listen to "flat earthers" and try to understand why oh why!! I haven't yet had time to go retrieve that one, but MY curiosity will probably drive me to do so.

A couple of thoughts/questions:

The clear lines of demarcation the poet draws between cats and dogs may be true for cats and dogs. But will it work when applied to humans? Aren’t human beings infinitely more complex than to fall neatly into either category? Is the poet setting up a false dichotomy? Isn’t it possible the same individual can be curious in one area and passively accept the status quo in another area? If so, which side of the line do we place him or her?

Another thought/question:

Can we assume we know the path a person took based on the outcome?

It might appear to an outside observer that an individual who has embraced a position we disagree with must have done so without questioning it. But isn’t it possible an individual may have arrived at that position through struggle, through questioning the status quo, through having the courage to seek answers regardless of where they might lead?

To an outside observer, these folks may appear as an incurious lot, as people who like to play it safe, who prefer not to rock the boat. But could the exact opposite be true? They may be more curious than the rest of us, having smelled rats, asked odd questions, and struggled before arriving at their conclusion.

Maybe they arrived at answers that differ from ours because they pursued a different line of questions. Maybe they just sat at different dinner tables. We just don’t know. But one thing we do know: we can’t—and probably shouldn’t—make assumptions about them.

I'm getting the sense of the cats as being poets or writers - living in ways that are incomprehensible to the normal folks, dogs, who are trying to live normal lives, and that they expose themselves to the unknown and to die any number of times all for the sake of a story.

Thanks for the link to the obituary of Reid. As a side note, I was very interested to read of his relationship with Margot Callas, who was previously a poetic muse for Robert Graves and then later married to film-maker Mike Nichols. Apparently a truly inspirational figure!

Rajib wrote: "I'm getting the sense of the cats as being poets or writers - living in ways that are incomprehensible to the normal folks, dogs, who are trying to live normal lives, and that they expose themselve..."

I agree. But I also think we can include explorers, adventurers, journalists, in fact, anyone who is willing to take risks and push boundaries in the pursuit of knowledge.

Does the portrayal of cats in this story "match" with their portrayal in the Broadway play "Cats"? How well do the characteristics attributed to dogs play against the annual Westminster Dog Show? Or a local agility meet? Or...

Was Reid simply being selective in setting up some contrast he was exploring at the time he wrote the poem? (My comment here was provoked by just watching a Facebook posted video of two very unlikely (imo) large dogs boisterously playing together in the snow.) I don't know what words Reid uses that did this for me, but he set "boundaries" to cats and dogs as "pets" in my mind when I read the poem, i.e., as not including cheetahs or wolves.

Lily wrote: "Does the portrayal of cats in this story "match" with their portrayal in the Broadway play "Cats"? How well do the characteristics attributed to dogs play against the annual Westminster Dog Show? O..."

The Broadway play "Cats" is based on T. S. Eliot's Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats. The selection from the poem I cited in #9 comes from that collection. The cats in Eliot's poems share much of the same characteristics as those in Reid's poem. I saw the play on Broadway years ago. If I remember correctly, I think the play captured the spirit of Eliot's poems. So I would say it is a pretty good match.