the absence of such a conception
in the
man
from the incoherence
of the
form;
but it is the latter that
concerns me. Apart from specific
objections to his antisemitism and
fascism, there is a formal principle
which, if severely invoked, would
have been a good enough reason
for voting against
The Pisan Can–
tos.
Not only the antisemitism but
all the other "insights" remain un–
assimilated to a coherent form.
The assumption of many persons
that a vote for
The Pisan Can–
tos
was a vote for "formalism" and
a vote against "life," makes very
little sense to me.
There is nothing mysterious
about coherent form. It is the pres–
ence of something in a work of art
which permits us to understand one
part in relation to all the other
parts. What should concern us in
looking
at
the Cantos is the formal
irresponsibility; in looking
beyond
the work, the effect of this irre–
sponsibility upon society.
(If
the
Cantos expressed
anti-fascist
opin–
ions, I should think that Pound's
formlessness would make him a
good party-line poet.) But just as
Pound's broadcasts never influ–
enced anybody in this country, and
were chiefly an indignity perpe–
trated upon himself
(cf.
Inferno,
XIII, Violence-against-Self) , I
cannot suppose that the antisem–
itism of the Cantos will be taken
seriously by anybody but liberal in–
tellectuals. Antisemites will not
"use" it. It is too innocent. I take
it seriously in the sense of disliking
667
it, and I cannot "honor the man"
for it; but I cannot think that it
will strengthen antisemitism.
I respect differences of opinion
on that question, about which I
am not informed. What I have said
in the two preceding paragraphs is
enough to indicate that my vote
for
The Pisan Cantos
was not easy:
I could have voted against it. But
this is not all. I had, as many men
of my generation might have had,
personal reasons for voting against
it. In so far as Mr. Pound has
noticed my writings at all, in con–
versation and private correspon–
dence, he has noticed them with
contempt.
Nevertheless I voted for him, for
the following reason: The health
of literature depends upon the
health of society, and conversely;
and there must be constant vig–
ilance for both ends of the process.
The specific task of the man of let–
ters is to attend to the health of
society
not at large
but through
literature, that is, through
lan–
guage.
As a result of observing
Pound's use of language in the
past thirty years I had become con–
vinced that he had done more than
any other living man to regenerate
the language,
if
not the imagina–
tive forms, of English verse.
I had
to face the disagreeable fact that
he had done this eqen in passages
of verse in which the opinions ex–
pressed ranged from the childish
to the detestable.
In literature as in life nothing
reaches us pure. The task of the
