It's always nice being pleasantly surprised by something differing from ones expectations. I have to confess to having a slight tendency towards preconceived opinions, particularly with regards to art or literature which is associated with a particular cultural movement or scene. I know this isn't the best approach and it is something I try to challenge myself about when I catch myself doing so - but of course we aren't always aware of our own flaws except through the benefit of hindsight, and so, on more than one occasion I have found myself marvelling that I almost deprived myself of the pleasure of a work of art, a story or a poem because I had blindly, in my ignorance, decided that I wouldn't like it without truly knowing what it was.

One such recent example of this is the work of Charles Olson. There is something in the work of the Beat poets that is a lot more raw and unprocessed, but also philosophical and.. hmm, how can I put this? There is an untangible energy about the work that I didn't expect - no, not that. Perhaps the only way to explain it is that I have found myself able to relate to the ideologies of beat poets far more than I had expected myself to. I feel like I have more common ground with them than I had ever considered... they are cut from the same cloth as other counter culture movements, which I foolishly hadn't really expected. There is still a familiar yearning buried in somewhere, that I know all to well and have seen in various other movements in various different disguises - it crops up regularly, in different eras and entirely different contexts, although sometimes it is dulled by money or drugs or institutionalised cultural ennui, but it endures. It's reassuring to see this familiar face reflected back at me from times passed - pages span time and I have the deep reassurance that we are not alone, but part of a long infinite succession of others that stretches on eternally.

I will post some Olson work at some point, some of it is really cool :)