I type the word ‘pantoum’ and already the autocorrect feature in WordPress is converting it into the word ‘phantom’ as if the word itself is struggling to remain ethereal and abstract. I read somewhere that the form ‘excites resistance’.

The original Malay ‘pantun’ / ‘pantum’ or ‘two cut’ was a poem designed to be written aa bb. The two couplets ought to have entirely separate subjects which are linked thematically eg. stillness: a single bird on a powerline and snow on the roof of a parked car. Malay poets use the first couplet for fine natural observations while the second couplet has a focus on what this means to the human subject. Following our progression the bird on the powerline and the snow could easily have a concluding couplet about being paralysed in the face of a powerful decision, or to be true to the instincts of the bird we could remove the potentially dangerous aspect of electrocution and the poem could become about safety, vantage and opportunity.

Whatever our decision is will inherently steer the poem’s displacement. Thanks to a bit of history, of which more here, we expect the form to do something different now and it has entire lines, repeated. The lines should fall like this: [1st verse] first line, second line, third line, fourth line, [2nd verse] second line repeated, fifth line, fourth line repeated, sixth line. This reminds me of something else that repeats itself, is abstract and ‘excites’ my ‘resistance’. Automated customer service lines.

It’s relatively easy to get into a loop with automated customer services numbers. With my bank all I have to do is push * then 1 then * then 1 and so on. The recorded Mancunian accent on the other end of the line doesn’t flinch when thanking me for my choice, “Thanks. Okay I now have four options for you.”

What I really needed was a customer services robot that would respond to written human input. There are various reservoirs of amazing programs that work in a customer services capacity. It was time to test out some robots!

This robot is Cleverbot:

Here is Ikea’s robot who finds love difficult:

This one is an insurance salesman in France. I am asking him if he believes in God. It’s a surprisingly pertinent question as ‘an act of God‘ is often cited in insurance contracts:

This is Brian (clearly rather big headed).

Then I found Lucy.

By necessity we have to start from a point of natural input. While punching buttons it didn’t take long for the idea to settle that in order to get a good loop going I need someone who sounded as unquestionably grateful and acceptably sympathetic as my Mancunian banker. I will never be able to have a conversation with him. He is just a voice in the aether.

Jane Austen was a writer of substantial wit, bravery and skill. So I’m sure she wouldn’t mind my choosing Mr. Darcy who is in my  view both unquestioning and incurious to the point where I struggle to take his character seriously beyond the realm of a plot Macguffin. Darcy raises just three questions throughout the entirety of Pride and Prejudice. I fed these three questions in various forms through the bots, but it wasn’t until I arrived on his letter that I struck gold with Lucy and we started to get the repeating lines of a pantoum with that same sense of infuriation. Apart from lines one and three, the rest was pulled from their dialogue. Here is the result:

Conversation Between Mr. Darcy and O2 Customer Services Robot ‘Lucy’ During Mr. Darcy’s Unfortunate Transformation into an O2 Customer Services Robot

Mr. Darcy: I must now mention a circumstance which I would wish to forget myself, and which no obligation less than the present should induce me to unfold to any human being.
Lucy Robot: I’m sorry but I won’t be able to answer such a long question.
Mr. Darcy: You may imagine what I felt and how I acted.
Lucy Robot: I’m sorry but I have not fully understood your question. Please see the FAQs.

Mr. Darcy: I’m sorry but I won’t be able to answer such a long question.
Lucy Robot: Apology accepted, what else can I help you with?
Mr. Darcy: I’m sorry but I have not fully understood your question.
Lucy Robot: I’m glad you understand.

Mr. Darcy: Apology accepted?
Lucy Robot: Unfortunately I have been unable to recognise your question.
Mr. Darcy: I’m glad you understand.
Lucy Robot: I still couldn’t recognise your question.

Darcy Robot: I’m sorry I didn’t recognise your question, please can you rephrase this?
Lucy Robot: Apology accepted, what else can I help you with?
Darcy Robot: I still couldn’t recognise your question.
Lucy Robot: I’m sorry I didn’t recognise your question.

=

Want to see more? Cornell University have conducted some interesting experiments with chat bots talking to one another, more here

This is an excerpt from my poem, Wing

We find you, dear Wing,
in the half-dark
on the way back from the piglets…

I played around a lot with the PIGLETS … taking this line in and out of the poem. But I realised that it was integral to the whole energy and emotion of the piece. It was the SOUND of the piglets snufflilng and snorting, and this sense of life and innocence they evoked I was chasing in the poem. I realised their inclusion was essential, without them I couldn’t HEAR that noise –  and it was this Click through to see the video. Including this hyperlink and writing the poem up here helped create the draft. I wanted to create a poem with links, and in so doing I realised that that was an important step in creating the atmosphere of the piece.

I also took video diary when I was pregnant, and the lines:

you are solid but unseen, mysterious
as a somersault inside the womb;

were also influenced by the film making process. Well, not the process of making a film, to be more precise the process of using film as a notebook journaling device. So many invisible elements go in to the making of a poem; ones that we forget more often than not; but that’s okay also. Their being lost is part of the poem becoming whole.