Julius’s Presentation
The main problem is to sequence, i.e. to find an order of, the early cantos, to retrace the “main scheme”, the various layers at work (beginnings, repetitions & metamorphosis). The starting point is the well-known Pound’s 1927 letter to his father:
Afraid the whole damn poem is rather obscure, especially in fragments. Have I ever given you outline of main scheme ::: or whatever it is?
1. Rather like, or unlike subject and response and counter subject in fugue.
A. A. Live man goes down into world of Dead
C. B. The “repeat in history”
B. C. The “magic moment” of metamorphosis, bust thru from quotidien into “divine or permanent world.” Gods, etc.
Julius notes that in this letter Pound identifies two variations of the “main scheme,” that is, A-C-B (descent or nekuia, repetition, and metamorphosis), or A-B-C (descent, metamorphosis, and repetition). There is even another possible variation, considering the simultaneous happening of the three moments, that is ABC. According to Julius though, the two complementary sequences suggested by Pound, A-C-B and A-B-C, seem to disregard the chronological genesis of the creative act. In other words, the moment of metamorphosis seems to be the actual origin, rather than the end, of the process. A new order of the “main scheme,” which Pound did not mention but is more accurate with regard to the phases of conception and composition of the poetic work, takes shape, that is C-A-B (metamorphosis, descent, and repetition).
In Julius’s perspective, the ostensible teleology of the “main scheme” is false, for it is contradicted by the poetics of the poem. So, the main question is: “What comes before ‘And’?” (Kenner, The Pound Era). Canto IV is a pivotal one for it essentially presents the reader with practical conceptions of metamorphosis, descent, and repetition. It is thus presupposed by Canto I in the form they were published in the mid-20s.
Julius’s presentation also touched upon the role of Imagism and Vorticism in the early Cantos, focusing on the importance of lyric distillation and the refusal of ornaments, and on the difference between lyric and epic poetry as essentially the difference between image and vortex, as well as on Pound’s definition of the vortex as “the point of maximum energy.” Pound’s Cantos, especially in its early sections, is an imagist & vorticist long poem, for it condenses imagist lyric & vorticist narrative. The vortex is a sort of acceleration of the image which multiplies the superposition (“ply over ply”). Related to this are, for instance, 1) Pound’s use of translations of translations (Homer’s Odyssey – Divus’s Odyssey – Pound’s Odyssey), in a constant superposition of images and historical layers on top of another (Homer’s Hades – Dante’s Inferno – Pound’s contemporary Hell), and 2) the periplous (“circumnavigation”), or “periplum” in Pound’s terms (cf. Cantos 59 & 74), for in Pound’s Cantos the recording or composition of the voyage & the voyage itself become one, and the inexactness of such a voyage dictates that it must start in the middle (“And then went down to the ship…”).
Another topic discussed is the importance of Far Eastern cultures, in particular China & Japan, which from the start in Pound’s Cantos represent the ethical (paradisal) dimension of the whole poem, determining a countermodel to the trajectory of the West and, in later Cantos, a counterweight to usury.
The final part of Julius’s presentation focused on Diana & Actaeon. One important bibliographic source here was Pierre Klossowksi’s Diana at Her Bath (1956), touching upon mythographic superposition, animation as repetition, and – again – the logic of simultaneity, according to which speaker (writer) & addressee (reader) merge in a similar way to the voyage & the recording of the voyage, and also to the various layers of myth and history.
Questions & Discussion
Louis frames the discussion as an exploration of how the “schema” and formal structures of the Cantos interact, pointing out that the poem can also be approached non-schematically and therefore opens the discussion to a broad range of interpretations. He specifically asks for attention to the later Cantos.
Julius explains that sequencing in the Cantos involves repetition or recapitulation in history, nearness and distance, and the relation between a journey and its literary reconstruction. He argues that paradisiacal imagery functions as an ethical counterweight to the descriptions of usury, helping explain the placement of figures and historical materials such as Malatesta, China, Confucius, and Venice. He discusses Canto 17’s imagery, including Zagreus/Dionysus and Far Eastern mythology, and Canto 27’s explicit references to the year and place of composition. These autobiographical details contribute to a non-teleological, anecdotal record of Pound’s journey.
Louis asks Julius to extend the argument to the later Cantos, particularly to explain why Adams and China enter the poem where and when they do.
Julius argues that China enters with Confucius in Canto 13, immediately after the poem’s treatment of Western decline and the emergence of usury, relating this sequencing to Kenner’s idea of fractal structure, in which smaller formal patterns recur at larger scales. He suggests that China and Adams, which appear after the Fifth Decad, also have biographical explanations connected with Pound’s Radio Rome period in the late 1930s and early 1940s. The China and Adams cantos parallel Pound’s attempt through radio to offer an alternative to Western political and economic development. He notes reciprocal influences between the Cantos and Pound’s radio work, and observes that the cantos associated with paradise are often particularly didactic. Radio technology, initially viewed negatively by Pound, becomes incorporated into his larger poetic project.
Ian raises several questions: the early appearance of Ecbatana; the replacement of Sigismundo by Ulysses; the presence of usury already in the Hell Cantos and Eliot’s reaction to them; and the role of Guy Davenport and the periplus. He emphasizes “sailing after knowledge” as an important motto for the early conception of the Cantos and asks how these elements fit Julius’s proposed structure.
Julius clarifies that his argument primarily concerns the early Cantos, although some of its principles may extend to the later China and Adams sections. He emphasizes the importance of Ecbatana in Canto 4 as a paradisiacal architectural model, alongside the golden shower and related imagery. He connects this with Pound’s literal journey from America to Europe in search of knowledge and with the attempt to construct a literary Ecbatana from European and Eastern traditions. He jokingly suggests that Ian’s question about Ecbatana reinforces his argument that Canto 4 effectively functions as a kind of Canto 1.
Ian specifies that he was referring to Ecbatana in Canto 5 rather than Canto 4. He reiterates that usury appears earlier than Julius’s discussion of the later Cantos, including in the Hell Cantos, and stresses that the early drafts already contained these elements. He argues that Canto 5 presents an early vision of paradise, while the later Canto 17 involves an escape from Hell with Plotinus rather than Virgil. He asks whether this development should be understood as part of the poem’s narrative.
Julius confirms that the sequence is narrative but points out that Ecbatana is already mentioned at the end of Canto 4 and continues into Canto 5. He agrees that usury appears earlier, specifically in Canto 12, and argues that Canto 13’s turn toward China establishes a deliberately schematic contrast between Western usury and an Eastern countermodel. He acknowledges that this is a highly schematic, even black-and-white structure, but considers it meaningful for understanding the sequencing.
Michael asks about the meaning of “superposition.” He distinguishes the scientific notion of quantum superposition, involving multiple unresolved probabilistic states, from the poetic use of the concept to describe simultaneity. He finds the phrase “logic of simultaneity” particularly useful and observes that the Cantos often make historical figures and periods appear to exist simultaneously in the present. He extends this into a possible metaphysical claim: Homer, Odysseus, the gods, China, and Malatesta are all “today.”
Tyler connects superposition and simultaneity to early twentieth-century scientific developments, including relativity, quantum theory, and Heisenberg. He traces related ideas in Pound’s 1911 Cavalcanti essay, where medieval magic is compared with electricity, and in Pound’s 1927 response to Walter Ruttmann’s Berlin: Symphony of a Metropolis. He argues that Pound connects cinema, montage, editing, and the layering of images with the ideogrammic method, allowing different temporal moments to operate simultaneously. He sees Pound as responding poetically to broader scientific and cultural concerns.
Julius distinguishes “superposition,” as a scientific or theoretical physical concept, from “superimposition,” as the cinematic layering of images. He notes that the two terms are frequently conflated in discussions of modernist cinema and Pound.
Ian adds that Pound explicitly mentioned Eisenstein’s Battleship Potemkin and Dziga Vertov and therefore encountered cinematic fragmentation before Ruttmann’s 1927 film. He suggests that Pound may have begun drafting the first cantos around the period when he encountered Eisenstein.
Tyler agrees that the chronology is important but distinguishes Pound’s early negative attitude toward cinema from his later appreciation. He notes that Pound’s earlier writings characterize cinema as impressionistic, temporal, casual, and essentially entertainment rather than permanent art. He argues that Pound’s position changes through exposure to Vertov, Eisenstein’s intellectual montage, and Ruttmann, culminating in the 1927 letter in which he explicitly connects Ruttmann’s film with the Cantos.
Jeff suggests that Pound discusses Soviet cinema in his editorial writings for The Exile. He argues that simultaneity predates cinematic montage and belongs to the broader cultural environment of Futurism, urban experience, and modernity. He connects simultaneity in the Cantos to the changing experiences of modern urban life and the fragmentary forms of modernism, interpreting this as an aesthetics of experience in which historical periods exist together in the present act of reading or writing.
Julius condenses Jeff’s point by describing the Cantos as placing historical periods on a single temporal layer.
Jeff clarifies that this formulation is not quite Pound’s own but connects it to Hugh Kenner’s interpretation of Pound’s statement in The Spirit of Romance that all ages are present.
Pietro supplies the precise formulation from the preface to The Spirit of Romance: “All ages are contemporaneous.”
Tyler returns to the question of sequencing and argues that the Cantos also involve an intersubjective dimension between poet and reader. The moment of writing and the moment of reading meet within the poem’s interstices. He proposes that the Cantos can potentially be read both sequentially from beginning to end and non-sequentially from any page, because their nested structures allow different points of entry into the larger pattern. He asks Julius whether different Cantos could function as equivalent starting points within this structure.
Julius questions the claim that the Cantos can simply be opened anywhere and read from any point, noting that such claims became common in post-1945 discussions of long poems. He is more interested in the poem’s struggle for coherence and in the productive failure of that coherence. He argues that the Cantos nevertheless possess a significant order: Canto 1 can presuppose Canto 4, while the larger schematic structure also permits alternative combinations. He stresses that this argument applies primarily to the early Cantos rather than globally to the entire poem or the Pisan Cantos.
Jeff accepts the distinction between narrative and image but insists that the Cantos are fundamentally anti-narrative even though they contain narrative. He proposes understanding repetition as narrative because narrative depends on sequencing, while breakthrough or metamorphosis corresponds to imagism or vorticism as an instantaneous moment. He associates these moments with experiential presence and with Pound’s idea of metaphor as a breakthrough to a vision of the gods. He also identifies paradisiacal and pastoral passages as similar moments of breakthrough.
Julius offers the Seven Lakes Canto as another example of paradise, particularly in relation to Kublai Khan.
Jeff observes that the Seven Lakes Canto leads directly into the theme of usury and reiterates that he is proposing a somewhat different version of the interaction between narrative and image in Julius’s model.
Julius defines the image as essentially a lyric moment. He clarifies that he does not mean imagism and vorticism to contradict each other: rather, vorticism accelerates the image, introduces movement into it, and thereby gives it a narrative dimension.
Judd returns to Tyler’s idea that any page could provide an entry point into the whole poem. Comparing Pound with Joyce and Proust, he notes that Finnegans Wake has a fractal structure but that Joyce apparently understood its overall structure relatively early. Pound, by contrast, seems to have constructed the Cantos while living and writing them over more than fifty years. He therefore sees the poem as a “life poem” whose structure incorporates Pound’s lived history. He compares this to Proust, whose writing eventually extended beyond the life span he had initially imagined for the project. He proposes considering Pound, Joyce, and Proust together in terms of structure and lived time.
Julius humorously suggests that Pound could be described as “learning on the job” while writing the Cantos.
Judd extends the metaphor by describing Pound as “building the airplane while he’s flying.”
Julius extends the metaphor further, joking that Pound is also “crashing” while rebuilding the airplane.
Louis argues that Pound’s method is “self-forgiving,” because the poet does not require himself to arrive at definitive answers. He relates this to vorticist art, which he describes as planar while implying higher dimensions and extensive spatial relations. He sees the Cantos as creating perspectives toward which thought should move without necessarily reaching a final point.
Julius emphasizes Louis’s formulation that the poem indicates where thought “should move to but doesn’t.” He interprets this as an ethical impetus. The sequence is therefore not random: it follows a model or structure that Pound attempts to realize but fails to follow completely, with that failure itself becoming productive. Julius also sees this ethical dimension as distinguishing Pound from Joyce and Proust.
Tyler connects this directly to Pound’s process philosophy. He describes Pound’s recurring attempt to impose permanent structural frameworks on an immediate and changing world. Because the world continually changes and produces unexpected elements, the framework must be reapplied repeatedly. The Cantos therefore become a process whose structure has to be worked out progressively rather than being completely determined in advance.
Louis reflects on his own ambivalence toward the idea of a scheme. He remains somewhat resistant to schematic readings but finds the “main scheme” particularly useful and forgiving in the first sequence of Cantos, where it functions as a kind of palette. He suggests that the formal device appears more conscious and definable there than in later parts of the poem and says he would like to understand how other readers accommodate this development.
Jeff compares Pound with Joyce and argues that the Homeric scaffolding of Ulysses was primarily a practical device that helped Joyce construct the novel. Pound, by contrast, requires scaffolding because contemporary history itself must participate in the completion of the poem. Pound wants the poem to remain connected to the immediate political and personal world. He then argues that Pound’s commitment to Mussolini was connected to his belief that the political world itself needed to develop in a way compatible with the poem’s project. Unlike Joyce, Pound could not maintain the same degree of aesthetic distance between the poem and contemporary history.
Julius notes that Pound’s idea that “all ages are contemporaneous” has also been interpreted politically. Some scholars have connected the collapse of all historical periods onto a single poetic plane with fascist politics, on the grounds that such a collapse could allow the poet to manipulate the representation and interpretation of history. He notes that the same principle has also been interpreted as anti-historical or non-historical.
Jeff counters that a similar temporal compression exists in Joyce. Ulysses contains an enormous amount of history within 24 hours, while Finnegans Wake pushes this compression further by concentrating everything into a single moment.
Ian emphasizes that although Pound may have been constructing the poem as he went, he already possessed a major Dantesque structure: Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise. He recalls Kenner’s early work on Pound and its comparison of Pound’s structure with Dante’s. He argues that this Dantesque framework existed from the beginning, even though Pound could not predict the later historical and autobiographical material, including the Chinese and Pisan Cantos. Thus, the initial structure was established before the poem’s later developments.
Pietro develops the Dantesque interpretation by arguing that Dante’s structure is fundamentally a structure of eternity, in which all ages are contemporaneous and Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise effectively represent “eternal states of mind.” He also interprets these realms visually as vortices: Hell as a downward vortex following Lucifer’s fall, and Purgatory and Paradise as an upward movement. He therefore connects Dante’s structure directly to the Cantos’ ideas of eternity, simultaneity, and vortex.
Julius agrees and argues that form and content operate together in the Cantos. The poem’s thematic “rhymes” correspond to formal structures, producing a partial coherence. He recalls Kenner’s discussion of the material preceding Canto 1, including Renaissance and Dutch vortices, as evidence that the poem’s formal logic begins before its numbered cantos.
Ezra speculates that the Cantos may have been conceived as the epic of a fascist civilization that ultimately failed. He compares this hypothetical function to the Aeneid as an epic of Roman civilization. He returns to Canto 4 and the destruction of Troy, linking it to the departure that initiates the Aeneid and to Homeric material. He also notes the way different historical and literary layers can be superimposed around Troy, war, destruction, and the journey home. Finally, he proposes “branching” as another model for understanding history and time: alternative political histories, alternative personal lives, or even a hypothetical version of the Cantos without the Pisan Cantos could be imagined as different branches of the same structure.
Louis concludes the session by saying that the group will “branch off until next month.”