Imprecise Words

Written by Carmen X, one of our poetry writers, and edited by Lilah, one of our editors!

From the film Late Spring (1949), directed by Yasujirō Ozu.

We were walking from the cinema. I had seen my first Ozu. It was Late Spring. ‘Godard said we must confront vague ideas with clear images. Ozu had answered him in that regard. Every shot its own perfect image, perfect composition, a world handmade– constructed by a craftsman of film instead of tofu. Each frame a perfect portrait. I keep using that word too much. Sorry.’

My friend said ‘You’re good.’ I continued.

‘I think why I like it so much is because he broke the rules in his own quiet way. A break from continuity between cuts, or establishing shots. It was all about the clarity and fidelity to and of the image. Can prose work the same way? Can the perfect word be as clear as the perfect image? The shot? The frame? The perfect image is pure and is everything. Word as image. Is that really possible? Pound seemed to think so. Words juxtaposed like cutting from one shot to another. Between one word to another, can a vase be a vase be a vase? I’m rambling.’ ‘You’re all right.’

On the sidewalk where we walked: the leaves and the wind.

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This piece was written by one of our poetry columnists, Carmen X. Reach them at @animagebook, on Instagram!

This piece was edited by one of our editors, Lilah. Reach them at @lilahrosewilliams, on Instagram!

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