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{"title":"情绪噪音","authors":"David Epstein","doi":"10.1353/wsj.2024.a922178","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"<span><span>In lieu of</span> an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:</span>\n<p> <ul> <li><!-- html_title --> Moodus Noises <!-- /html_title --></li> <li> David Epstein </li> </ul> <p><span> <em>Machemoodus, Native American term meaning \"the</em></span><span> <em>great noise of the earth\"; thus, the town named Moodus</em>,</span><span> <em>Connecticut, near where a geological feature has given rise</em></span><span> <em>to spontaneous chthonic sounds</em>.</span></p> <p><span>All solutions have long since taken their graves.</span><span>An elemental howl in the dark: behind your spectral dam,</span><span>angst accumulates. In southeastern Connecticut</span></p> <p><span>you traipse miles of forest, gliding the contours,</span><span>tracing altitude: stalking the vertiginous plane of white pine,</span><span>visiting empty mobile homes, retreating to trees,</span></p> <p><span>watching opossums and thinking how</span><span>the cost of self-awareness brings with it</span><span>incongruence. You reach into your ghost's throat and,</span></p> <p><span>constricting your erstwhile larynx, produce a sound.</span><span>Such battering of the air has been likened</span><span>to a pair of empty steel tanks attempting union,</span></p> <p><span>or to the distant keening of the earth itself. Once,</span><span>a couple lingered in the woods, contemplating post-high school ennui,</span><span>while their hands plied each other's corporeal liens.</span></p> <p><span>In the gray pre-dawn, along the beaten track of your wanderings,</span><span>you pursued what passes now for mystery,</span><span>as if, after centuries, you still had it in you to care. <strong>[End Page 112]</strong></span></p> David Epstein West Hartford, Connecticut Copyright © 2024 Johns Hopkins University Press ... </p>","PeriodicalId":40622,"journal":{"name":"WALLACE STEVENS JOURNAL","volume":"135 1","pages":""},"PeriodicalIF":0.1000,"publicationDate":"2024-03-13","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":"{\"title\":\"Moodus Noises\",\"authors\":\"David Epstein\",\"doi\":\"10.1353/wsj.2024.a922178\",\"DOIUrl\":null,\"url\":null,\"abstract\":\"<span><span>In lieu of</span> an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:</span>\\n<p> <ul> <li><!-- html_title --> Moodus Noises <!-- /html_title --></li> <li> David Epstein </li> </ul> <p><span> <em>Machemoodus, Native American term meaning \\\"the</em></span><span> <em>great noise of the earth\\\"; thus, the town named Moodus</em>,</span><span> <em>Connecticut, near where a geological feature has given rise</em></span><span> <em>to spontaneous chthonic sounds</em>.</span></p> <p><span>All solutions have long since taken their graves.</span><span>An elemental howl in the dark: behind your spectral dam,</span><span>angst accumulates. In southeastern Connecticut</span></p> <p><span>you traipse miles of forest, gliding the contours,</span><span>tracing altitude: stalking the vertiginous plane of white pine,</span><span>visiting empty mobile homes, retreating to trees,</span></p> <p><span>watching opossums and thinking how</span><span>the cost of self-awareness brings with it</span><span>incongruence. You reach into your ghost's throat and,</span></p> <p><span>constricting your erstwhile larynx, produce a sound.</span><span>Such battering of the air has been likened</span><span>to a pair of empty steel tanks attempting union,</span></p> <p><span>or to the distant keening of the earth itself. Once,</span><span>a couple lingered in the woods, contemplating post-high school ennui,</span><span>while their hands plied each other's corporeal liens.</span></p> <p><span>In the gray pre-dawn, along the beaten track of your wanderings,</span><span>you pursued what passes now for mystery,</span><span>as if, after centuries, you still had it in you to care. <strong>[End Page 112]</strong></span></p> David Epstein West Hartford, Connecticut Copyright © 2024 Johns Hopkins University Press ... </p>\",\"PeriodicalId\":40622,\"journal\":{\"name\":\"WALLACE STEVENS JOURNAL\",\"volume\":\"135 1\",\"pages\":\"\"},\"PeriodicalIF\":0.1000,\"publicationDate\":\"2024-03-13\",\"publicationTypes\":\"Journal Article\",\"fieldsOfStudy\":null,\"isOpenAccess\":false,\"openAccessPdf\":\"\",\"citationCount\":\"0\",\"resultStr\":null,\"platform\":\"Semanticscholar\",\"paperid\":null,\"PeriodicalName\":\"WALLACE STEVENS JOURNAL\",\"FirstCategoryId\":\"1085\",\"ListUrlMain\":\"https://doi.org/10.1353/wsj.2024.a922178\",\"RegionNum\":0,\"RegionCategory\":null,\"ArticlePicture\":[],\"TitleCN\":null,\"AbstractTextCN\":null,\"PMCID\":null,\"EPubDate\":\"\",\"PubModel\":\"\",\"JCR\":\"0\",\"JCRName\":\"POETRY\",\"Score\":null,\"Total\":0}","platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"WALLACE STEVENS JOURNAL","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.1353/wsj.2024.a922178","RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":null,"ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"0","JCRName":"POETRY","Score":null,"Total":0}
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Moodus Noises
In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:
Moodus Noises David Epstein Machemoodus, Native American term meaning "the great noise of the earth"; thus, the town named Moodus , Connecticut, near where a geological feature has given rise to spontaneous chthonic sounds .
All solutions have long since taken their graves. An elemental howl in the dark: behind your spectral dam, angst accumulates. In southeastern Connecticut
you traipse miles of forest, gliding the contours, tracing altitude: stalking the vertiginous plane of white pine, visiting empty mobile homes, retreating to trees,
watching opossums and thinking how the cost of self-awareness brings with it incongruence. You reach into your ghost's throat and,
constricting your erstwhile larynx, produce a sound. Such battering of the air has been likened to a pair of empty steel tanks attempting union,
or to the distant keening of the earth itself. Once, a couple lingered in the woods, contemplating post-high school ennui, while their hands plied each other's corporeal liens.
In the gray pre-dawn, along the beaten track of your wanderings, you pursued what passes now for mystery, as if, after centuries, you still had it in you to care. [End Page 112]
David Epstein West Hartford, Connecticut Copyright © 2024 Johns Hopkins University Press ...