No American Miltons: Melville, Zukofsky, and America‘s Lost Epic Tradition By Timothy Clayton Wood A dissertation submitted in partial satisfaction of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in English in the Graduate Division of the University of California, Berkeley Committee in charge: Professor Michael A. Bernstein, Chair Professor Samuel Otter Professor Lyn Hejinian Professor Richard Cándida Smith Fall 2010 No American Miltons: Melville, Zukofsky, and America‘s Lost Epic Tradition © 2010 By Timothy Clayton Wood 1 Abstract No American Miltons: Melville, Zukofsky, and America‘s Lost Epic Tradition By Timothy Clayton Wood Doctor of Philosophy in English University of California, Berkeley Professor Michael A. Bernstein, Chair No American Miltons: Melville, Zukofsky, and America‟s Lost Epic Tradition explores the exigencies of the epic traditions in American poetry. I examine the novelization of the epic and the concomitant lyricization of poetry within American literary history before positing an extant albeit chthonic epic tradition best exemplified in the 19th century by Herman Melville‘s Clarel and in the 20th century by Louis Zukofsky‘s “A”. I argue that while the epic tradition stemming from Wordsworth through Whitman and on to Pound is indeed defunct, an alternative epic tradition exemplified by Melville and Zukofsky‘s use of Milton is alive and well, although it goes unrecognized. I ground my notions of epic in the prevailing discourses about the genre in 20th century American literary criticism and link my definitions to the basic tenets outlined by Aristotle. By offering provisional definitions of epic, yet ones specific enough to justify the use of what has often been a contentious term, I attempt to bring aspects of the poems that often go unnoticed into relief so that otherwise seemingly unrelated poetic projects can be realigned and understood as part of a tradition that tests the critical reception of epic in general, and Clarel and “A” in particular. Attending to the epic qualities in these poems may also lead us to ponder how our understanding of them is predicated on what we imagine a poem to be. In a series of chapters on Melville, I illustrate the ways in which epic discourse has been deflected in the criticism of Clarel toward either the novel or the lyric. I then offer a close reading of Clarel as an epic, attending specifically to the role of the storyteller, the condition of the characters, and the function of the landscape. In the next chapters, I turn my attention to Zukofsky. After considering the limitations of the postmodernist and autobiographical readings of “A”, I compare the poem to Ezra Pound‘s Cantos in order to delineate the problems with situating “A” within the tradition of the modern verse epic. I then offer a considered reading of “A” both structurally and thematically as an epic. Finally, I conclude with a brief epilogue that looks at the way epic informs possibilities in postmodern 21st century writing, where genre distinctions remain suspect and are sources for hybridization more than distinct categorization. I use Lyn Hejinian‘s A Border Comedy to focus my analysis, examining the epic resources she draws on in the construction of her hybridized poetic text. i Table of Contents 1. Introduction: The Exigencies of Epic in America 1 1.1 American Epic: Novel(ty) or a Contra(di)ction in Terms 1 1.2 Wordsworth to Whitman, Milton to Melville: America‟s Twin Epic Traditions 7 1.3 Readership, Subject, and Form: Defining Epic By the Three Aspects of Genre 14 1.4 The Reader of the Unreadable: Epic‟s Critique of the Reader 15 1.5 Subject Matter: America‟s Cthonic Epic Tradition 19 1.6 Form: Defining Epic, the Contours of the Genre 21 2. Clarel: A Novel Epic 25 2.1 Crabby about Crabby Meter: A Lyric Response to Clarel‘s Verse 27 2.2 Deliberate Failure: The Measure of Clarel as an Epic 30 3. Author, Storyteller, Reader, Character: The Form and Function of Epic Narrative in Clarel 33 3.1 Oral Narrative and the Written Text 33 3.2 Finding the Clew: Clarel‘s Formal Trap and Egalitarian Vision 42 4. Paradiso Terrestra: America‘s Displaced Wilderness 52 5. Clarel‟s Linguistic Landscape and America‘s Dark Democracy 85 5.1 E Pluribus Unum or “A Pocahontas-wedding of Contraries” 85 5.2 The Burning Secret & The Burning Bush: Melville‟s Transcendent God 95 6. ―A‖ As An Epic: Setting a Tone 97 7. Ezra Pound and the Limits of Modernism 109 7.1 A Man Within the Speech of a Nation: The Modernist Storyteller as Epic Hero 111 7.2 A Poem Included in History: Keeping Epic Time in a Modern Age 116 7.3 A Tribe of Exiles: Or, “A” for “America” 127 8. The Epic Problem: ―A Poem of a Life/—And a Time‖ 131 8.1 In The Beginning: Reading “A”-1 as Epic 132 8.2 The Domestic Epic: A Reconsideration of the Break in “A”-12 138 8.3Wor(l)d Without End: Epic Closure in ”A”-23 and “A”-24 145 9. After The End 151 9.1 Celia‟s L.Z. “Mask” 151 9.2 The End is the Beginning of the Muddle: Epic Continuation After “The End” 156 10. Genre‘s Border Crossings: The Epic of Inquiry in Lyn Hejinian‘s A Border Comedy 162 11. Works Cited 173 ii Acknowledgments The problem with an acknowledgements page is that is tends to formalize gratitude. As it is with all such conventions, an acknowledgments page has the tendency to turn real feeling into a bouquet of clichés. Giving acknowledgment often feels like sending off a Hallmark card to someone who deserves a handwritten letter. I owe so many so much, so much more than a few words of stock thanks. But then, as the poets remind us, it is due to these necessary forms that our feelings can find a shape and that we are able to give voice to those ineffable sentiments; so I suppose I can be thankful for that. Even if it is inadequate, I count myself lucky that there is a place to express my indebtedness to so many people who have helped me and continued to do so long after I was deserving of their assistance. Now at the risk of wading into the platitudes of acknowledgment, I want to start by saying that we all know that writing of any significance is a collaborative effort and is never really the result of the author alone; however, as the author, I have the right to take credit for all mistakes herein and the privilege of exonerating all others who have contributed to this text from any blame. Whatever genuine insight remains after that, I offer to those below in humble thanks. I would like to thank my committee. My chair, Michael Bernstein, whose belief in me and in the modern American verse epic, has kept me committed to the project over many years. Sam Otter, who introduced me to the existence of Clarel, has offered unstinting support and careful reading of my reading of the poem. Lyn Hejinian, whose influence and encouragement predates my matriculation in graduate school, first stirred my interest in experimental writing by showing me—and continuing to remind me—that poetry is a way of being in the world. Thanks is also due to Richard Cándida Smith whose generosity of spirit has made him an ideal ―outside reader.‖ I would also like to extend thanks to Lee Parsons in the Berkeley English Department‘s graduate office who has miraculously remembered my name and made me feel welcome even after long leaves of absence and years of being incommunicado. I couldn‘t have gotten through Berkeley‘s bureaucratic nitty gritty without his help. I would like to acknowledge the institutional support of Nassau Community College as well as U.C. Berkeley for the time to research and write. What is more, my colleagues at Nassau have proven to be fantastic interlocutors over the years, helping me to keep encouraged even when the dissertation lay fallow, composting under reams of student essays. Thanks to Sara Hosey, Bill Moeck, John Woods, Bruce Urquhart, for provocative and timely conversation, and a special thanks to Tim Strode whose confidence in my abilities and generosity during our many collaborations has shown him to be a true friend. I would also like to thank Craig Dworkin; although we didn‘t know each other at Berkeley, he has been a wellspring of encouragement and advice in the final stages of this project. I would like to recognize my parents, Scott and Jeannie Wood, who gave everything to get me to college, and have shown me how to recognize unique possibilities in what can at first appear to be an indefatigable failure. And for Ali and Dana who have always made me feel that what I do is significant. I would like to thank Ted Tayler who provoked me with questions and witticisms when I was an undergraduate at Columbia that I‘m still trying to puzzle out. This dissertation is one of my more longwinded responses to his laconic brand of inquisition. I would also like to thank Liz Strode, Poppy Johnson, and Lily Dougherty-Johnson who solved my research woes and made it possible for me to get the information I needed when I needed it. iii Now for the harder part: how to express gratitude for which there are no words? Mira, do you remember the old rusted out Mercedes station wagon that transported us across the country to Northern California and would not stop, not even when we took the key out it? It just kept running, no matter what.