In meticulous detail Kingsley uncovers its great secret, hidden in plain sight and still (as if by magic) unrecognized by all those who have been unable to understand this mysterious, incantatory text.
The poems are written primarily in the vatic mode: “We will gather / the invisible wealth / lost between the cities / will chain up the monsters of history.” Many poems are incantatory as well–ritual medicine in their presentation and intent, often signaled by the use of anaphora: “spell me the name of my land / spell me the name of my mother / my eyelids have been closed / for too many centuries …”
(Tom Mercier plays lead in an astonishing feature film debut.) Throughout the film, Yoav rattles off French vocabulary lists (the “synonyms” of the title) that acquire a poetic, almost incantatory quality.
A fiery, primitive and fierce intellect, The Fall man presided over an ever-changing line-up but a rigorously, riff-filled vision of euphoria and bleakness, black humour and incantatory exuberance.
Many of these pieces have an incantatory feel, with chant-like delivery of phrases.
both situations had both so seeped into the consciousness of Chinese intellectuals by late 1899 that the invocation of these two examples in the writings of the period are almost incantatory in their frequency.’
His poetry ranges from the lyrical to the satirical to the epic, from the dramatic to the incantatory, often offering acute examinations of the self and the society.
The Owa Ooye thereafter said his prayers in a very traditional way, which included some rhythmical incantatory invocations that elated his audience.
One of these is the tud-om or chant, which are part of their knowledge systems and cultural beliefs around the incantatory power that words have.
And like the Lotus Sutra, the writing in Nothing ever dies is often incantatory in style.
Accompanied by a low-volume recording of Mayer’s incantatory, Steinian stream-of-consciousness accounting of the days in question, the gridded photos–which covered one wall of the gallery–catalogue with varying degrees of fidelity and technical care the sort of under-examined sites, objects, and activities that Georges Perec referred to as the “common things” that “speak of what is, of what we are.” A scrupulous document of what might initially seem like nothing much at all, Memory is, in fact, a beautifully plainspoken consideration of the conditions of attention and of presentness–one whose meditation on the fugitive, finespun quality of recollection has only deepened as its particulars have faded over time.