between critical making
Mike Goode. “The Joy of Looking: What Blake’s Pictures Want.”
Representations. 119.1 (Summer 2012). 1-36.!
“Blake’s audience, especially today, has the tendency to be singularly
irreducible to the sum of its groups. It is my conviction that this irreducibility—
this delinquent tendency on the part of Blake’s ‘composite art’ to de-compose
itself whenever and wherever it ﬁnds an audience—can prove critically and
politically instructive about what his art meant, or at least could have meant,
when it was created.” (5)
Andrew M. Cooper, William Blake and the Productions of Time.
Burlington: Ashgate, 2013.
“[Blake] was driven to this extremity by the revisionary logic of his system,
which required that each new poem not only re-perform its predecessor but
also itself, such recursion resulting in a baroque ‘late style’ mythology devoted
primarily to emergent, ﬁne-grained possibilities of meaning: nuance, not
Cameron Mozafari, “Designing a Multimodal Reading Space for Coleridge’s Kubla Kahn.” in the essay “Bibliocircuitry and the
Design of the Alien Everyday.” Textual Cultures: Texts, Contexts, Interpretation. 8.1 (2013): 72-100.
Cameron Mozafari, “Designing a Multimodal Reading Space for Coleridge’s Kubla Kahn.” in the essay “Bibliocircuitry and the Design
of the Alien Everyday.” Textual Cultures: Texts, Contexts, Interpretation. 8.1 (2013): 72-100.
autoblakein the intoxications of pleasure & dwell with her tender!
limbs O love & modesty Immingled, interwoven, glistening to the Fe
& a State of dismal woe. From beneath his Orbs of Vision, Two Ears in!
close volutions Shot spiring out in the
& a State of dismal woe. In ghastly torment sick, a Tongue of hunger!
& thirst ﬂamed out And a sixth Age passed
the Daughters of Albion united in Rahab & Tirzah wail aloud in the!
wild deep his Eyelids like the Sun Arising
the Daughters of Beulah replied in sweet response Come O thou Lamb of!
God in terrors! Albion is dead! his Emanation
Self, laughing to scorn Thy Laws & Moralities
nether ﬂoor shakes with the whip, To worship terrors, bred from the!
Starry Wheels Which revolve heavily!
External Spheres of Visionary Space and Time. In the Column of Fire!
Surrounding Felphams Vale, reaching!
Evening Death's Door I have seen thee sleep & Sweet delusions of Vala!
I breathe him forth into a Scull,
the pit? Or wilt thou still go on In fearless majesty annihilating