„Ciclul Pan Cogito, cu trimiteri directe la raţiune chiar din titlu, se constituie într-o convingătoare demonstraţie poetică a necesităţii imperativelor morale. Fără memoria semnificaţiilor etice, gesturile şi faptele culturale sunt lipsite de suport, devenind simple elemente decorative, într-un peisaj pestriţ, fără liantul necesar. Pan Cogito, un alter ego al poetului, reflectează asupra rosturilor existenţiale, lansând provocarea raţiunii şi a cumpătării în faţa afectelor necontrolate sau a răului devastator”
Zbigniew Herbert was a Polish poet, essayist, drama writer, author of plays, and moralist. He was also a member of the Polish resistance movement. Herbert is one of the best known and the most translated post-war Polish writers, and has been nominated several times for the Nobel Prize in literature.
Who would've thought that Eastern European literature (Poland, Hungary, Czech Republic and Russia) would have such a hold on an Arab..
I highly recommend these two articles by the Poetry Foundation and The Telegraph for an introductory analysis of his style, of his use of mythological references, on the irony and the satire in his poetry language, the pessimistic tonality, the symbolism, his anti-communism allusions (such as in his famous poem The Taste)... The journalist quotes a short discussion he has had with Tomas Tranströmer (Swedish Nobel Laureate) on why Zbigniew did not get a Nobel prize like the two other great Polish poets Szymborska and Milosz..
1 Mr Cogito is alarmed by a problem in the domain of applied mathematics the difficulties we encounter with operations of simple arithmetic children are lucky they add apple to apple subtract grain from grain the sum is correct the kindergarten of the world pulsates with a safe warmth particles of matter have been measured heavenly bodies weighed and only in human affairs inexcusable carelessness reigns supreme the lack of precise information over the immensity of history wheels a spectre the spectre of indefiniteness How many Greeks were killed at Troy – we don’t know to give the exact casualties on both sides in the Battle of Gaugamela at Agincourt Leipzig Kutno And also the number of victims of terror of the white the red the brown – O colours innocent colours – – we don’t know truly we don’t know Mr Cogito rejects the sensible explanation that it was long ago the wind has thoroughly mixed the ashes the blood flowed to the sea sensible explanations intensify the alarm of Mr Cogito because even what is happening under our eyes evades numbers loses the human dimension somewhere there must be an error a fatal defect in our tools or a sin of memory (...) ***
Mr. Cogito Meditates on Suffering
All attempts to remove the so-called cup of bitterness– by reflection frenzied actions on behalf of homeless cats deep breathing religion– failed one must consent gently bend the head not wring the hands make use of the suffering gently moderately like an artificial limb without false shame but also without unnecessary pride do not brandish the stump over the heads of others don’t knock with the white cane against the windows of the well-fed drink the essence of bitter herbs but not to the dregs leave carefully a few sips for the future accept but simultaneously isolate within yourself and if it is possible create from the matter of suffering a thing or a person play with it of course play entertain it very cautiously like a sick child forcing at last with silly tricks a faint smile ***
Mr Cogito And The Imagination
1 Mr Cogito never trusted tricks of the imagination
the piano at the top of the Alps played false concerts for him
he didn't appreciate labyrinths the Sphinx filled him with loathing
he lived in a house with no basement without mirrors or dialectics
jungles of tangled images were not his home
he would rarely soar on the wings of a metaphor and then he fell like Icarus into the embrace of the Great Mother
he adored tautologies explanations idem per idem
that a bird is a bird slavery means slavery a knife is a knife death remains death
he loved the flat horizon a straight line the gravity of the earth
2 Mr Cogito will be numbered among the species minores
he will accept indifferently the verdict of future scholars of the letter
he used the imagination for entirely different purposes
he wanted to make it an instrument of compassion
he wanted to understand to the very end
- Pascal's night - the nature of a diamond - the melancholy of the prophets - Achilles' wrath - the madness of those who kill - the dreams of Mary Stuart - Neanderthal fear - the despair of the last Aztecs - Nietzsche's long death throes - the joy of the painter of Lascaux - the rise and fall of an oak - the rise and fall of Rome
and so to bring the dead back to life to preserve the covenant
Mr Cogito's imagination has the motion of a pendulum
it crosses with precision from suffering to suffering
there is no place in it for the artificial fires of poetry
he would like to remain faithful to uncertain clarity ***
Mr Cogito is a persona used by Zbigniew Herbert to cogitate about the world in unworldly ways. Not all poems in this thin book employ the good Cogito, but the thinking is surely the same--strange. I do feel that the earlier poems (and the shorter ones) are stronger than the later (and longer) ones.
As is the case with all poetry not written in English, the translation can't help but be fraught and, to people in the know (not me), controversial to some degree. In this 1993 release, John and Bogdana Carpenter have given us a Herbert collection that shuns punctuation. What's different, however, is how the line break can't always be counted on as a safety net, either. Reading these poems takes some adjustments on the part of the reader. Sometimes, without cue, a pause is in order mid-line. This forces the reader into a recursive mode. I was constantly spinning back, rereading lines, then going, "Ah, yes. NOW, read THAT way, it makes sense."
Herbert studied law, economics, and philosophy at the Universities of Krakow, Torun, and Warsaw, so of course his poems give the whiff of academia and act like humanists of the first order. Here's a taste of his style:
The Envoy of Mr Cogito
Go where those others went to the dark boundary for the golden fleece of nothingness your last prize
go upright among those who are on their knees among those with their backs turned and those toppled in the dust
you were saved not in order to live you have little time you must give testimony
be courageous when the mind deceives you be courageous in the final account only this is important
and let your helpless Anger be like the sea whenever you hear the voice of the insulted and beaten
let your sister Scorn not leave you for the informers executioners cowards—they will win they will go to your funeral and with relief will throw a lump of earth the woodborer will write your smoothed-over biography
and do not forgive truly it is not in your power to forgive in the name of those betrayed at dawn
beware however of unnecessary pride keep looking at your clown’s face in the mirror repeat: I was called—weren’t there better ones than I
beware of dryness of heart love the morning spring the bird with an unknown name the winter oak
light on a wall the splendour of the sky they don’t need your warm breath they are there to say: no one will console you
be vigilant—when the light on the mountains gives the sign—arise and go as long as blood turns in the breast your dark star
repeat old incantations of humanity fables and legends because this is how you will attain the good you will not attain repeat great words repeat them stubbornly like those crossing the desert who perished in the sand
and they will reward you with what they have at hand with the whip of laughter with murder on a garbage heap
go because only in this way will you be admitted to the company of cold skulls to the company of your ancestors: Gilgamesh Hector Roland the defenders of the kingdom without limit and the city of ashes
Be faithful Go
Note how the lack of periods actually helps the finish in this poem. One feels the need to go when one reaches the end, in other words. No punctuation is going to stop you. Here's a shorter one I liked:
Ordinariness of the Soul
In the morning mice scamper over the head over the floor of the head shreds of conversations scraps of a poem the room's muse enters in a blue apron she sweeps
such important guests visit my master Heraclitus the Ephesian for example of the prophet Isaiah
today no one rings
the master paces about impatiently talks to himself tears up innocent papers
in the evening goes out in an unknown direction
the muse unties her blue apron rests her elbows on the window sill leans out waits for her sergeant with red moustaches
As a poet, I'm always looking to learn from poets who know their way around a poem (I'm in the labyrinth compared to the heavyweights outside, playing with Ariadne's balls of yarn). Herbert proves that punctuation need not constrict the poet, that you can experiment with words liberated from such conventions. He's a master of the short line, of uneven lines, of one-line stanzas, of the ordinary dressed up in extraordinary rags, of the odd tangent thought dropped carelessly for readers to step over or pick up.
Something to cogitate over, in other words. And to expand your reading and writing horizons...
Zbigniew Herbert did not leap to my list of favorite poets, but he did show me once again that it's good not just to leave one's comfort zone once in a while, but to plunge off a cliff with a poet. Likely translation made this a bigger jump, but the poems are thought-provoking and very quirky. I really enjoyed this book, especially the poems about Mr. Cogito (Mr. I Think).
I suspect Mr. Cogito had two grandfathers who helped raise him. One was a modern Plato or Confucius, the other Mr. Magoo or Inspector Clouseau. He does believe he's brilliant. He even achieves some brilliance, but by stumbling over it.
"About Mr. Cogito's Two Legs" shows us the kind of mixed matched parts that make up his whole being:
"The left leg normal one could say optimistic a little too short boyish with exuberant muscles and a well-shaped calf
the right leg God help us – thin with two scars one along the Achilles tendon the other oval pale pink shameful minder of an escape...
Mr. Cogito goes through the world staggering slightly"
In other thoughts about thoughts, he uses these contrasting metaphors:
"sometimes they come to the bursting river of another's thoughts they stand on the shore on one leg like hungry herons..."
and my favorite
"they sit on stones wringing their hands
under the cloudy low sky of the skull"
For me, the most powerful poem of this collection is "Meditations of Mr. Cogito on Redemption." It ends
"he should not have sent his son it was better to reign in a baroque palace made of marble clouds on a throne of terror with a sceptre of death"
"Poeta w pewnym wieku w środku niepewnego wieku..."
Bardzo mi si�� podobał Herbert, tyle że jego poezja to naprawdę twardy orzech do zgryzienia pod względem kontekstu.Chyba nigdy nie musiałam wyszukiwać w internecie aż tyle pojęć, nazwisk i aluzji do mitologii i historii. Przepiękna zabawa rytmem (który bardzo mi się w liryce podoba) i samym językiem, już samą śmierć Marsjasza mogłabym czytać w kółko.
I own all of Herbert's other books. This one I got from the library. I would like to own it. The price (used copies, it is out of print as are most of his other books) is outrageous. Anyone know why this particular book is so expensive?
Whatever the reason it is worth it. I copied it and will be re-reading it for a long time.
easily one of the best things i’ve read in a long while - searingly, hauntingly, detachedly good verse with each poem bringing a lot to the table. but the most striking thing about this is how well it works as a whole: it’s the rare collection that feels not only curated and meaningful as a book but where each poem adds a new slice of meaning to the overall picture until the absolute gut punch of “the envoy of mr cogito” - a poem i knew very well going in and have read many times but which was so recontextualized and expanded by the poems that precede it that i actually gasped when i turned the page and encountered it as the concluding poem of the collections overall arc. eternally good work, made all the more potent the current resonance of its thinking through the simultaneous futility and importance of political resistance, the small meaningless scope of an individual life in the currents of history, the difficulty and necessity of preserving your private thoughts under authoritarianism. be faithful Go
na mojej duszy wyryte są słowa rozmyślań Pana Cogito o odkupieniu i Pana cogito i perły (uwielbiam, gdy nie rozumiem połowy wierszy, jak można mieć taki łeb, skąd on te nazwy zna)
This book went out of print almost immediately upon its english translation. I just found one for my very own and fell upon it. It is brilliant and heartbreaking and wry, in the way that eastern european poets tend to be. But he is also so invested in the importance of history and art that it has sparked my interest in filling somewhat the gaping holes in my classical education--gilgamesh, upanishads, plato and the greeks. A writer whose books need to be held and appreciated for the physicality of literature.
Словом — це прекрасно. Але одним словом не обмежишся. «Одним словом» у випадку з паном Cogito — це злочин.
Пан Cogito — це і про полеміку з західноєвропейською літературою, і про певне зловтішання з філософської думки Заходу. Але найперше це — про Польщу з її травматичним досвідом совєтської окупації. Alter ego автора розривають питання свободи, смерті, плинності памʼяті, конечності героїзму, питання історії та відмови від неї, питання спасіння, умертвіння релігії та її заміщення перевинайденою магію, болісного усвідомлення своєї самотності поміж «зрадників і катів». Як пише Герберт: «поет у певному віці / серед непевного віку…»
Багато-багато питань, але хто ж урешті любить відповіді? У панові Cogito — як у справжній інтелектуальній поезії — умовно все. Іншими словами, це — поетичний цикл про мандри свідомості. Примара Калігули ходить тут поряд з Гаймом і Спінозою. А Прометей зʼявляється у вже геть непристойному світлі старості і збайдужіння. Так, це вже не Прометей Дельвіля, цей Прометей — справжнісінький герой 20 століття! Та попри усю цю пишноту відчаю долинає насамкінець оце: «будь відважний коли зраджує розум будь відважний / за великим рахунком тільки це чогось варте…».
«… йди бо тільки так тебе приймуть до грона холодних черепів грона твоїх предків: Гільгамеша Гектора Роланда захисників безмежного королівства і спопелілого міста
I heard of Zbigniew Herbert via one of the many great literary essays written by JM Coetzee. Herbert's Mr. Cogito looks and observes and considers what layers of history - genetic, dynastic, personal - lie in the landscape around us, in our fields and cities, in ourselves. Herbert is Polish and rode through the 20th century, born in 1924 and died in 1998.
beginning of MR COGITO STUDIES HIS FACE IN THE MIRROR
Who wrote our faces chicken pox for sure marking its o's with a calligraphic pen but who bestowed on me my double chin what glutton was it when my whole soul yearned for austerity why are my eyes set so closely together it was him not me waiting in the scrub for the Vened invasion the ears that protrude two fleshy seashells no doubt left me by an ancestor who strained for an echo of the thunderous march of mammoths across the steppes
It has been said that Herber's Mr Cogito is a persona he frequently used to disabuse his readers of their Cartesian prejudices. It reads with rich idiosyncratic, revealing and magnetic verse in the sense of the pull on one's own self-reflexivity. It orbits paradoxical encounters in life where there are dark boundaries, where the mind is easily deceived and the call of vigilance and courage is an essential solidarity for ensuring viable responses against biological and historical determinism that pose threats to safety and buoyancy on the journey. - "to be as masters recommended / empty and / amazing"
Cogito ergo sum. I think therefore I am. This collection of poems, written during the Soviet occupation of Poland, follows Mr Cogito trying to be what his name suggests—a thinker—in a world hostile to thought. But the main antagonist is himself. Mr Cogito is a human being with a body and family and all sorts of hang-ups, not a brain in a vat. He thinks while melancholy and while enraptured by the “lightning of flowers.” He “goes / through the world / staggering slightly,” Herbert writes. And so do these poems. They alternate from mundane to high-brow with endearing jolts. This is poetry for thinkers with heartache and backache.
Herbert w zbiorze wierszy zmienia znaczenie słynnego cytatu Kartezjusza “Cogito ergo sum” na “istnieję, stąd myślę”. Pan Cogito, człowiek, będący świadkiem wojen oraz zmian ustrojów politycznych, dostrzega wokół siebie także, paradoksy codzienności oraz analizuje swoją tożsamość. W wierszach, podmiot liryczny obserwuje i reflektuje nad dzieciństwem, rodzicami, utratą i miłością. Sztuka i kultura są dla Pana Cogito maską człowieka, który nie może odnaleźć własne biologiczne “ja” na świecie oraz swoje przeznaczenie. Herbert opisuje tę koncepcje wierszem, bez rym, ale z wyraźnym rytmem. Używa przy tym dobrze dobranych słów, podkreślając ich moc. Wybitne!
If you're looking for some Polish poetry that'll smash you're head in, pick this up.
Nice job, translator. Wish I could read it in the original, but you done good. There's a great voice and color of language being captured here that I know must be in close keeping with the original.
I loved these, although some did wax a bit too philosophical in the middle.
When approaching a book by a 20th-century Polish poet, one already knows it will be extraordinary, but Mr. Cogito exceeded all my expectations. It is one of the funniest and yet most introspectiv books I've ever read. There is literature, there is philosophy, there is irony. The poems are deep and yet so simple and lovely. It reminded me of the important things and made me laugh more times than I could count. Mr. Cogito is simply sublime.
Moja pierwsza poezja (do której usiadłem samodzielnie, a nie została mi zaserwowana w szkole). Nie przypadła mi szczególnie do gustu. Początkowo zachęciły mnie pojedyncze wiersze które widziałem na lekcjach polskiego, po przeczytaniu całego tomu doszedłem do wniosku, że były one lepsze od pozostałych. Najwyraźniej nie bez powodu zostały wybrane.
Cohesive poetry collections are always a delight, and this character piece is one of the best I've encountered. My first time reading Herbert but I assure you it won't be my last. Which of his books should I read next?
Herbert schrijft kleine grotten van wijsheid, humor en overpeinzing. Soms helder en direct, soms duister en warm. Heerlijk om in te verdwalen en thuis te komen.