Hyper-realism in Contemporary Romanian Poetry
by
Paul Doru Mugur
The so-called “transition”
period of the last twenty five years in Romania from the beginning of
the post-communist period in 1990 to the close of the first decade of
the twenty-first century is a period of alienation and crisis of
communication brought. This twenty five-year span was defined not only
by uncertainty and fears, social inequities and misery, but also by
both an enthusiasm and a hope for the future that the recent inclusion
of Romania in the European Union made real..
The revolution of December
1989 brought the communist regime in Romania to a violent end,
and,
after that, everything in this country
changed. Historical vicissitudes leave long and deep scars on
people memories.
Teodor
Adorno, whose work is constantly quoted in relation to various
ideologies that inform society and art, famously stated that writing a
poem after Auschwitz is barbaric;
after such an experience, it becomes
impossible to write poetry. Maintaining the
analogy, we may also say that after the experience of communist
in Romania, writing poetry and, making art in traditional formats,
have turned increasingly difficult. Writers
sought new forms of expression capable of reflecting not only
the trauma of the past but also the brutal transition to a new
socio-economic reality. After almost
half a century of tension between the wooden language and hypocrisy of
the communist propaganda and the elaborate literary devices used by
Romanian writers to conceal subversive political innuendos and
disguise their true feelings, people grew suspicious of art and
accused it of lack of sincerity. This may explain why the poetic
discourse of post-communist literary groups has begun to mimic reality
to the point of abolishing the borders between
art and life. In order to continue
to be meaningful, poetry became
hyper-real in Romania. The new forms of poetry amplified the
banality and dreariness of everyday life experience and sensations to
the point of making the real appear overwhelmingly flat or abject,
super-boring or, on the opposite, horrible—in
a word, excessively real, hyper-real. A clarification is needed
from the start to avoid confusions. The meaning of hyper-reality in
the texts of Baudrillard, Eco and other cultural critics, and the
meaning of hyper-reality I am discussing here are different. I am not
referring either to hyper-reality as "the simulation of something
which never really existed" (Jean Baudrillard) or as “the authentic
fake" (Umberto Eco). Hyper-reality in the context of Romanian
contemporary culture simply means the use of reality as a special
effect.
This obsession for the real
and for authenticity, the rejection of any form of compromise and the
contamination of esthetic by ethic, are the main characteristics of
contemporary Romanian poetry. A similar neo-realistic trend is present
also in the recent Romanian theater and in the new wave of Romanian
cinema.
To discuss this
pattern, I need to introduce
Harold Bloom’s concept of the
anxiety of influence; it invites us to read the history of poetry as a
sort of stylistic chain reaction wherein
each poet carries on a hidden dialogue with his or her peers and
predecessors. On one side, Bloom’s
theory explains the non-linear sequence of generations and schools of
poets within a certain culture, whereas on the other,
it accounts for the occurrence of similar stylistic patterns in
temporally or spatially remote cultures.
A brief introduction in the
history of the recent Romanian poetry will help, I hope, the foreign
reader to understand better the historic origins of this obsessive
quest for the Real in post-communist Romanian poetry,
as opposed to the poetry of the preceding decade under communist
hegemony.
The story of
contemporary Romanian poetic attitudes begins in the final decade
before the fall of the Iron Curtain.
Separated from the
American Beatnik momentum by more
than twenty years, a similar literary orientation had its debut in
Romania with the 1982 anthology, Air
with Diamonds
(“Aer cu diamante”),
which included texts by four young poets; its fresh wind
ruffled the Romanian “esthetics of poetry.”
In opposition to the carefully
constructed, highbrow linguistic
towers erected by their predecessors who
regarded themselves (in high modernist
fashion) as
sort
of priests serving the mass on the altars of Saint Poetry, the
Generation ’80 poets wrote playful, colloquial,
often anecdotal or narrative texts.
They countered
the modernist’s mysticosophical
syndrome of arcane revelation
with an ironic, inherently mocking
deconstructive postmodernist laughter.
Bloom coined his
syntagm of the anxiety of influence
not only to define some
kind of antagonism but also to explain the so-called imitation of the
predecessors. Thus, it appears that the
American 60’s and the Romanian
80’s stylistic revolutions may be linked in more than one way.
The Romanian poets of the Generation ‘80 owe a great deal to the
Beat
poetry, from Ginsberg’s “Howl”
and “Kaddish,”
to the poetic accomplishments of Corso, Ferlinghetti
and Snyder; this has been formally
acknowledged by Mircea Cãrtãrescu, himself one of the most gifted
contemporary Romanian writers and a member of the Generation ’80. In
”Romanian Postmodernism”,
a critical monograph dedicated to this movement, he states that some
of his colleagues, including he
himself, borrowed aspects of “literary techniques” from the
Beats:
„-“the pouring never-ending,
almost epical aspect of the poems, the agglutination and distortion of
reality, etc. ”
He adds,
„-“But,
the anti-capitalistic and, sometimes, too simplistic populist ideology
of the Beatniks was strange to the
Romanian 80’s poets.”- The
Romanian poets’ focus on the
hedonistic aspects of art is very different from the
Beatniks’ politically engaged public
performances. Romanian postmodernist poetry published before December
1989 lacks in any form of implied political engagement.
In fact, it can be argued that
the postmodernism made in Romania under the gloomiest years of Ceauºescu’s
dictatorship was not so much a type of belated import,
an exotic western friandise,
as it was a form of spiritual resistance, a declaration of inner
freedom against an oppressive regime. It might have been a form of
escapism, too; if so, it was a healthy form of escape, a natural
immune reaction against an alienating reality. It seems to me that in
Romania, the Beat generation style
was grafted on an autochthonous sensitivity shift that was not fed by
any kind of foreign literary influences; more likely, this was the
outcome of the struggle carried on by a number of poets who kept the
fire of their imagination burning, despite the communist censorship.
It can be also argued that within the
closed borders and controlled media, all the Western, pop-culture and
literary references had an unavoidable, though never explicit,
political dimension.
The postmodernist worldview
was brutally challenged by the political and socio-economical
mutations that appeared in post-communist
Romanian society after 1989.
This was soon reflected by a change in the poetic tone also. The
apocalyptic visions of Ioan Es. Pop
and the fantastic, dark-humored family myth
of Cristian Popescu’s prose
poems mark not only a change of tone but,
more importantly, a change of
attitude: if in Romanian postmodernism, baroque accumulations and
inter-textualist playfulness were the norm, poets of the Generation
’90 introduced various form of
autobiographism
and a preoccupation
with authenticity, preparing the
ground for the paradigm shift brought by the Generation 2000 poets.
In September 1998,
two Romanian poets,
Dumitru Crudu and Marius Ianuº, wrote “The Fracturist
Manifesto” declaring that “fracturism is the first model of a radical
break from postmodernism” and that “fracturism is a movement developed
by writers who live as they write, excluding social lies from their
poetry; the writers who adhere to this movement have no career
expectations and ambitions, they do not perceive art as a form of
business from which one can draw any profit.” This manifesto marks the
beginning of a decade in which authenticity and directness became a
kind of esthetic Fata Morgana; capturing the evanescent reality of
feelings and sensations, this “vanishing point that whistles” of the
Real, became a quixotic quest not only in literature but
also
in Romanian art in general. The point was reinforced by Dumitru Crudu
in an article that followed: “in order for literature to be truthful,
believable and irreducible to
the fireworks of a superficial non-conformism,
it should have an existential and biographical motivation.(…)
The fracturist proposal was to move the accent from the object to the
one who writes. Only the reactions of the one who writes are important
and not the object he/she describes. (…) Only thus
can we
reinvent emotion, only thus can we
reinvent the primary thrill of the Real.”
Ironically, in Romania, the
Beat generation
influenced both the Generation ’80 poets and the
Generation 2000 poets
who
rebelled against the perceived
Romanian postmodernist frivolity and lack of social commitment. Marius
Ianuº, co-founder with Dumitru Crudu of the Fracturist Movement,
wrote an infamous
poem that can be read almost as a karaoke hiphop version of
Ginsberg’s “Howl”, that Ianuº had
translated into Romanian.
Born a decade later than the
American literary movement of
postmodernism, Romanian postmodernism was a combination of an
imported set of perspectives and a game of double entendre with
the communist censorship. This esthetic
temporal gap disappeared at the beginning of the third millennium.
Today, Romanian hyper-realism is in perfect sync with the neo-realism
of the brand new glocal world. The postmodern worldview is
quickly becoming ineffective and Romanian poets may have not only
understood this but moved on to experience other forms of poetic
expression before most others did.
Nicolas Bourriaud, the curator of Tate Britain 2009 exhibition,
introduced in the “Altermodern
Manifesto”essay the idea that that
“postmodernism is coming to an end, and we are experiencing the
emergence of a global altermodernity.”
Many Romanian poets abandoned the postmodernist agenda
more than a decade ago and can be read today as altermoderns
avant la lettre. Clearly, now, contemporary Romanian poetry has an
unprecedented urgency and a truly world-wide relevance.
Hyper-realism is the strategy
used by Romanian poets to coax, lure, imitate, capture, tame, exorcise
Reality in their texts.
First of all I
want to
make a clear distinction between hyper-realism
as a
stylistic strategy and as
interrogating on a personal
level what Reality is, a questioning
that leads to at least as many answers as inhabitants of the planet
Earth. Instinctively human beings try to find or create meaning in
their lives and in the world, and, for most people, this search for
meaning is their Reality. Postmodernist
authors declared any meaning relative because it can be manipulated;
according to the postmodernist credo,
every text can be deconstructed/reconstructed ad nauseam
according to the whims or interest of the critic/reader. The only
solution for young poets, the only honest way out of the verbal
games and intellectual vertigo of their postmodernist predecessors,
was to drop any pretention to a distinct and privileged poetic
discourse, that is,
metaphors, tropes, rhythms and rhymes, was to break altogether
the distorting mirror of poetic language
and contemplate the banality of day to day life. They did this
by turning their attention to the squalor, triviality but also to the
myriads of little pleasures and miracles of human existence and by
using an unadorned language that oscillates between violence and
miserabilism,
on one hand, and a minimalistic “langue des enfants et des
anges,”,
on the other hand. In fact, the only solution was to completely
let go of Poetry; miraculously, as
in the Phoenix myth, by
means of
the identical
gesture, poetry became livelier than ever.
If
a preoccupation for authenticity is a common trend in the
Romanian poetry of the last decade, the ways of expressing it have
been far from being homogeneous.
Thus, another feature of this
poetry, has been its extremely protean presentation,
ranging from variations of a down-in-the-gutter
autobiographism (e.g.,
Dan Sociu) to more or less grotesque forms of neo-expressionism (e.g.,
Dan Coman and Teodor Dunã). The reader of this anthology will
traverse
very different landscapes of lyrical expression,
also, we hope, stopping to
explore them closely on his way, and doing
so more than one time.
In another twist, after the
juvenile enthusiasm of discovering new poetic horizons and after all
the battles fought under the banner of the hyper-real, some of the
poets decided that this was not enough for them and turned to religion
in order to find better answers to their queries and worries;
others, for example a young poet who
specifically asked us to keep his name anonymous, declared
his entire output of poems “public
property” and simply stopped writing poetry and moved to more prosaic
activities.
Now, almost a decade after
“fracturism” brought forward its preoccupation with authenticity and
the real, after the storms of
every possible excesses
have
passed, after using (and abusing!) shock,
scatology and pleasure as fundamental esthetic principles, the
tone of the Romanian poetry has again
changed. Young poets post their texts
online on various blogs and build internet communities similar
to the Flarf and other
movements in U.S.
Some of them write directly in English or post translations of their
poems on the web. Today, discussion
on poetry can no longer be carried on in terms of generation or style.
In the digital age, the medium itself of Romanian poetry became
hyper-real. Likewise, styles and poetic agendas vary with the speed of
one’s modem connection and the intensity of the number of links found
by your search engine. But even at this fast-forward
pace of cultures made of bits and
bytes, reading a poem remains one of the most intimate,
and time-resistant, acts. In
the end, what abides beyond generations and manifestos, beyond what
may be real or merely
another linguistic game, is
the pure joy of experiencing a poem,
passing again and again over this fragile bridge of words where our
souls meet in silent communion. |