STANZAS IN MEDITATION - Gertrude Stein (1956): 6
A puzzling and self-reflexive read of what appears to be self-reflection. An unnamed narrator (whom I assume to be Stein) thinks about a group of people remembered from the past and present, including an unnamed she, an unnamed he, and the speaker themself. The speaker contemplates how these people came and went from the speaker’s house, and how the speaker looks down on them in their pseudointellectual ways, and how the speaker thinks best of themself. Stein forgoes any concrete references except occasional colors, animals, and natural things, and even these remain conceptual. Through sentences brimming with “Which” and “May” and “Not” and “Or,” Stein promotes full ambiguity, while remaining only to paint the relationships between the three. Split into five parts of dozens of stanzas which range from short to pages long, the fifth part of which is a gargantuan read, this book propels itself through sudden revelations about the characters and how they think—although I am inclined to believe that these thoughts are only what the speaker thinks about them. This book may be the most subjective ever written. Not for the faint of reading, plenty of inference and contorted language abounds inside. An overwhelmingly difficult amount, in some places of extended drag. Although I do enjoy how words enter the stanzas to be repeated often until the end.