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Madness on a Windy Night
You know you are on a steady descent towards madness when you find yourself, in the middle of the night, writing Remusfic that is not only inspired by Eliot's "Rhapsody on a Windy Night", but is actually based on the aforementioned poem.
So, I had this assignment in poetry class: we were supposed to take a poem, turn it into prose, and then turn that back into poetry. I, the ever-faithful student, forgot altogether until, er, two days ago. Since I have absolutely no model for this (Ben Franklin used to do it as an exercise, but I don't know if any of the poems > prose > poems survived, or where I can find them if they did), I kind of dawdled nervously, until last night, when I thought, "oh plague, it's due tomorrow, and I haven't got anything at all!" So I paged through poetry, trying to find something I could turn into prose.
Poetry is hard to turn into prose! I suppose you've guessed this already. Most poetry is about an emotion, a person, an event. It has characters, or one character, generally. As a last resort, I was looking through my tattered Eliot book, and thought, "well, this is all madness, but 'Rhapsody on a Windy Night' rather has promise, and all the references to the moon are...rather Remusy, and...OH NO." And then I wrote it. It's not done yet, and I may not even have it done for class, but at least I can say I tried. And am going mad.
(And yes, you lot will see it at some point.)
So, I had this assignment in poetry class: we were supposed to take a poem, turn it into prose, and then turn that back into poetry. I, the ever-faithful student, forgot altogether until, er, two days ago. Since I have absolutely no model for this (Ben Franklin used to do it as an exercise, but I don't know if any of the poems > prose > poems survived, or where I can find them if they did), I kind of dawdled nervously, until last night, when I thought, "oh plague, it's due tomorrow, and I haven't got anything at all!" So I paged through poetry, trying to find something I could turn into prose.
Poetry is hard to turn into prose! I suppose you've guessed this already. Most poetry is about an emotion, a person, an event. It has characters, or one character, generally. As a last resort, I was looking through my tattered Eliot book, and thought, "well, this is all madness, but 'Rhapsody on a Windy Night' rather has promise, and all the references to the moon are...rather Remusy, and...OH NO." And then I wrote it. It's not done yet, and I may not even have it done for class, but at least I can say I tried. And am going mad.
(And yes, you lot will see it at some point.)