Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Great Moments in Misquotation



I was reading John Ashbery's famous ekphrasisical poem "Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror" and came across this puzzling passage early on (sic as copied from the aforelinked site):
...Vasari says, "Francesco one day set himself
To take his own portrait, looking at himself from that purpose
In a convex mirror, such as is used by barbers . . .
He accordingly caused a ball of wood to be made
By a turner, and having divided it in half and
Brought it to the size of the mirror, he set himself
With great art to copy all that he saw in the glass,"
Chiefly his reflection, of which the portrait
Is the reflection, of which the portrait
Is the reflection once removed.
Even knowing Ashbery's reputation as a postmodernist poet, those last few lines gave me pause. "...his reflection, of which the portrait is the reflection, of which the portrait is the reflection once removed"? Whence that double portrait and treble reflection? That the portrait is the reflection of the reflection makes obvious sense, but what does it then mean to say of that that the portrait is it's reflection once removed? Is it a restatement of the previous lines (i.e. first the poet thinks it's a reflection, then decides that no, it's a reflection once removed), or is it a comment somehow on the nature of reflection, that there is always (in the mind, perhaps?) a double reflection, so that the portrait is a reflection, and that that itself is (self-reflected?) in the portrait at one remove?

Fortunately, pursuing this matter, I found this site which has the mp3 of Ashbery reading his own poem (and a great many other aside), and found out that no: it's actually a copyist's error. A quick use of Amazon's search inside feature confirmed it; that little postmodernist puzzle was not in what Ashbery originally wrote. Here's the text, as corrected. (I've corrected the other (more obvious) error in the above quotation as well.)
...Vasari says, "Francesco one day set himself
To take his own portrait, looking at himself for that purpose
In a convex mirror, such as is used by barbers . . .
He accordingly caused a ball of wood to be made
By a turner, and having divided it in half and
Brought it to the size of the mirror, he set himself
With great art to copy all that he saw in the glass,"
Chiefly his reflection, of which the portrait
Is the reflection once removed.

-- And that, again, makes straightforward sense.

So why do I feel a slight nostalgia, a slight sadness, for those great lines of poetry -- never, apparently, written deliberately -- saying of Parmigianino's Self-Portrait that it portrays "Chiefly his reflection, of which the portrait/Is the reflection, of which the portrait/Is the reflection once removed."?

To close off this blog entry, insert your own self-reflective joke about the convex (distorted) nature of the reflection of quotation and description here.

2 comments:

John Rodgers said...

I think the inserted line (by whom?) reads better- it certainly sounds better aloud-, not as a post-modern conundrum but rather as a stuttering repetition, in which the repeat intensifies and explicates the initial presentation. In this reading, the second “of which” refers not to “the reflection” immediately preceding it, but merely restarts and allows completion of the thought.
Chiefly his reflection, of which the portrait
Is the reflection, of which the portrait
Is the reflection once removed.

This does not seem to be Ashbery’s style- to pay attention to how the words actually sound when read aloud, but it is easy to see why such an error would be propagated and instill nostalgia.

John Rodgers said...

This section of the poem presents several other examples of “misquotation”, besides the typographical issues you point out.
1). Ashberry twice replaces the concept of manual “making” with the modern metaphor of “taking” a photograph. First, Ashbery paraphrases de Vere’s “make his own portrait” (Vasari’s ritrare) with “take his own portrait”. Then he replaces de Vere’s “counterfeit” (Vasari: contrafare [sic]. Italian contraffare can take the meaning of “copy” but usually, like English counterfeit, has the sense of “false copy”. In each case, the poet’s paraphrase deproblematizes Parmagianino’ activity, shifting it from the complexity of “reflection with value added”, to that of “faithful photographic reproduction”. At the same time his own copying from de Vere is thus hardly faithful…. And one can of course must wonder if this was intentional. But one can also wonder if the replacement of make by take wasn’t an unconscious translating, just as the insert of “of which the portrait/Is the reflect” might have been an unconscious repetition by the so-far anonymous copy-errorist.