Technicians Of The Sacred, With A Side Order of Whimsy

[dr_pretentious]

When I was a young poetry student, my favorite teacher introduced me to a book that blew my mind. Jerome Rothenberg's Technicians of the Sacred made the case for poetry as a technology for changing the material world--and made the case that in many cultures that was literally, not figuratively or indirectly, the way people thought about poems. Check out the table of contents here: Walt Whitman collected alongside the funeral rites of the Gabon Pygmies, Shakespeare and Wallace Stevens alongside anonymous dialogues between the god Tlaloc and his worshippers and anonymous poems to accompany the Yaqui deer dance. Rothenberg's insistence that poems from the high art tradition of the West were on a living continuum with poetry that did stuff, or at least was seen by the peoples who created and preserved it as doing stuff, was foundational for me as a writer. I may not pick up my copy of Technicians of the Sacred when I'm wrestling with my fiction, but it's a book I think about whenever I'm composing new liturgy in my practice as a Wiccan priestess. I'd recommend it for any coven's reading list for clergy training, and for any writer, regardless of genre.

Meanwhile, Zach's doctor tells him he must not do anything that "insults the liver," by which Dr. Bigwig means dietary carelessness and alcohol. Says my sister, As soon as he said this, though, I pictured Zach yelling curses and mean names at his liver. I was thinking of all the things I would like to say to his liver too. I guess we will only be allowed to say nice and encouraging things. This is probably for the best.

I don't yet have a poem to encourage Zach's liver, though I have written it a letter.

My mother came up with an ode to Zach's liver that has stuck in my head so tenaciously, it's the mental equivalent of a wind-powered Tibetan prayer wheel in the gustiest pass in the Himalayas. Anytime I'm not actively concentrating on something else, Mom's spell starts singing itself in my brain. It's goofy, even a little annoying, and yet brilliant in its earworm-y simplicity:

We love you, Li-i-ver,
Oh, yes, we do-oo.
We love you, Li-i-ver,
So don't turn blu-oo.
That tumor's got to go!
It's through!
O Li-i-ver,
We love you!

Not what Jerome Rothenberg had in mind when he set out to revitalize American poetry, but I stand in awe of it as a conduit for energy.

Comments

[kistha.livejournal.com]

I must have this book. I've never heard of it, and absolutely it must joining my collection.

Still thinking good thoughts for Z.

Loves to you all.

[onyxtwilight.livejournal.com]

I just found a used copy for $4. :-)

[sabrinamari.livejournal.com]

I would like to learn the tune for this spell.

My revised book must be finished this weekend, and preferably by Friday. May I join you next week to do work on Zach's behalf?

I have erased part of your phone # by accident, so it would be wonderful if you can send it to me via email , love.

[onyxtwilight.livejournal.com]

You probably know it already.

On insulting the Liver

[laradionne.livejournal.com]

In Chinese Medicine, the "insulting" sequence of Qi flow is in opposition to the normal direction of the "controlling" cycle. It has to do with Confucian relationships between the organs and their Qi. In the "proper" order of flow, the "grandmother" organ's Qi controls the Qi of the "child" organ. In the "insulting" cycle, this becomes topsy-turvy and the "child" organ's Qi controls the "grandmother".

The Liver is the "grandmother" of the Spleen. The Liver's grandmother is the Lungs. In terms of the elemental correspondences, the Liver is Wood, the Spleen is Earth, and the Lungs are Metal.

Excessive dampness in the Spleen can overflow and impair the Liver. Think of how a boggy swamp can drown a tree. So one of the ways Zach could visualize his situation might take the aspect of a dredging project to drain the swampy Spleen, followed by some lumberjacks thinning out the choking undergrowth (tumors) so the tree of his Liver can thrive in good health.

Re: On insulting the Liver

[dr-pretentious.livejournal.com]

Very cool! Thank you.

One of the unusual things about getting treated at NIH is that acupuncture is a standard part of their approach. I don't know how they think or talk about the acupuncture they do, but everybody there agrees that it's a good thing. I'll pass this along once he's off the foggy post-surgical meds. Right now, one of the things he's dismayed by is how short his attention span is.

NIH has also got therapy dogs. I am a big fan of therapy dogs.

[dr-pretentious.livejournal.com]

That would be wonderful! We'd love to see you. You'll probably be very keen to spend time outside your house after meeting your deadline, so we can meet in the middle or you can come to us.

One practical thing that would be awesomely helpful would be if you could bring your slow cooker along with you, and we could assembly-line our way through a big batch of food for Pru and Zach. I'm envisioning three slow cookers blooping happily through the afternoon while we go out and play. The high-calorie diet a person on chemo needs is pretty problematic for anybody with a normal or slower metabolism, so I'll be going through my old Weight Watchers cookbooks for stuff to make for Pru. That way she can meet her own health needs and his, without having to cook two separate meals for every sitting. She'll need to stay well to get him well.

I'll email you the phone number right now.

Re: On insulting the Liver

[laradionne.livejournal.com]

Therapy dogs are wonderful. I loved the ones that came by my hospital room back when I had my appendix out.

It's difficult to have a long attention span when one's brain is still swimming in anesthetic chemicals. Sort of like dreaming.