Abdulla Goran (d. 1962) was an eminent promoter of, and contributor to, the modernization of Kurdish poetry. In his own time, Goran was hailed by many contemporary writers, critics, and poets as the leader of this endeavor. While describing his project in modernizing Kurdish poetic forms, for instance, Goran mentions only two achievements, both of them on the grounds that they were motivated by a patriotic sentiment: the replacement of classical quantitative meters with syllabic meters, and the “purification” of the language from non-Kurdish loanwords. However, we know that Goran was not the first modernist to dabble in syllabic meters or to attempt to “purify” the language of poetry. This chapter focuses on the main reasons for his immediate popularity. It argues, first, that, unlike many of his peers, Goran publicly identified as a modernist from the outset; that he greatly contributed to the expansion of Kurdish poetic forms and the promotion of Kurdish free verse; and that he played a major role in the internationalization of modern Kurdish poetry.

The Classic Bardic period is remarkable for its conservation of dán díreach, a highly elaborate set of formal protocols that underwrote bardic composition of eulogy, elegy, and satire. Dán díreach features complex syllabic meters, such as deibhidhe and rannuigheacht, that accompanied a rich set of rhetorical and generic conventions at the core of the bardic repertoire. This chapter examines the intricacies and affordances of such forms, as well as other styles that traveled outside of the aristocratic milieu, which were characterized by an increased use of alliterative meters such as ógláchas and brúilingeacht, a preponderance of folk motifs and song forms, and an emphasis on topics and concerns that tended not to find their way into the poems of the professional bards.

As the accentual and highly alliterative meters of pre-Christian poetry came in contact with Latin hymnody, they incorporated forms of syllabic versification. These nùa chrutha [new forms] emerged from an ecclesiastical setting and were initially resisted by the filid, but they were then slowly folded together with native compositional tendencies on the way to the highly formal dán díreach style (syllabic, stanzaic, complexly rhymed) that would dominate professional Irish poetry until the seventeenth century. This chapter will look at the development of early Irish versification.

Emerson’s poetry has been somewhat of an enigma for readers and critics alike, who have often found it thematically opaque and stylistically unwieldy. Many have concluded that he was incapable of writing “better” verse, a conclusion predicated upon the assumption that he intended to do otherwise but couldn’t. This essay takes as a starting point the idea that the roughness of Emerson’s poetic style was intentional and that his metric irregularities are not accidents. After analyzing the style, rhetoric, and prosody of the poems, this essay contextualizes these elements within Emerson’s metaphysics. It argues that Emerson’s poetry reveals the crumbling of meter that led to the modernist revolution and free verse; poetic style did not suddenly jump from Longfellow to Whitman, but rather meter was stretched and strained before it was broken.

We conducted two experiments, testing the iambic–trochaic law (ITL) with speakers of English, Greek, and Korean. They heard sequences of tones varying in duration, intensity, or both; stimuli differed in the magnitude of the acoustic differences between alternating tones and involved both short and long inter-stimulus intervals. While the results were not always compatible with ITL predictions and did not show strong grouping preferences, language-related differences did emerge, with Korean participants showing a preference for trochees, and Greek participants being more sensitive to duration differences than the other two groups. Importantly, grouping preferences showed substantial individual variation, evinced by responses to both test sequences and controls (sequences of identical tones). These findings indicate that results from ITL experiments are influenced by linguistic background but are also difficult to replicate, as individual preferences and specific experimental conditions influence how participants impose rhythm structure to sound sequences.

Moving from Illmatic to Young Stoner Life, this chapter listens closely to rap flow – the complex metrical pulse that runs through its verses. Drawing on lyrical examples from rappers like MC Lyte and Missy Elliott, it lays out a series of core technical effects (such as pauses, overflows, and triplets) before turning to the question of how MCs have grappled with the challenge of recording their flows on the page. Discussing the obstacles that face any attempt to apply traditional print poetic scansion to hip-hop, the chapter moves on to the innovative ways that rappers like Rakim and Young Thug have approached their notepads – making use of 16x4 grids, unorthodox punctuation, and abstract shapes. It closes with a discussion of so-called mumble rap and the ethics of close listening, pointing to the controversial use of rap lyrics in the recent YSL court case.

In Debussy’s mélodies, the placement of poetic stresses within a bar frequently contradicts the natural rhythm of the French language. In the case of his early songs, scholars have rationalised these occurrences through his ‘casual regard for the text’, his youthfulness, or his ‘budding fascination with the poetry’. However, the irregularities present in his later songs have not been explained. While confirming that Debussy’s translation of the prosody into the musical metre and rhythm is anything but strict, my study of meter and rhythm in his mélodies suggests that an exact rendering of versification was not even intended in many of the songs. To demonstrate this aspect of Debussy’s technique, I compare a few poetic lines from the 1882 and 1892 settings of Verlaine’s ‘En sourdine’ and focus on a single rhythmic alteration, whose location, in the light of the song’s other rhythmic and metrical events, reveals its purpose.

As in music, stress and accent in natural language are phenomenal prominences. A phenomenal prominence is always the most salient aspect of an acoustic contrast. A stress or accent might consist of a higher pitch, a greater amplitude, or a longer duration. It might also arise from differences in aspiration, vowel quality, or voicing. The primary purpose of stress and accent is to indicate a form’s temporal structure. It does this by indicating the positions of metrical prominences on the metrical grid. When phenomenal prominences correspond to metrical prominences, as they do in both music and language, they indicate the locations of metrical prominences and overall temporal organization. The key difference between metrical patterns in music and metrical patterns in language is that the former are typically more cyclic – or repetitive – than the latter with a more even distribution of prominences. Metrical organization is always rich and constructed automatically. Even when presented with a series of identical isochronous pulses, a hearer will automatically construct an analysis with multiple metrical levels. Stress and accent indicate which metrical analysis a listener should construct. This typically requires minimal information. A single accent per form can distinguish between the four perfect grid patterns, the simplest binary metrical patterns.

Chapter 9 summarizes the main points addressed in previous chapters. The main issues addressed in Chapter 1 are phenomenal prominence, metrical prominence, and the relationship between them. Chapter 2 addresses the Prosodic Hierarchy and structural prominence. Chapter 3 examines the typology of word stress. Chapter 4 examines two correspondence relationships: the relationship between prosodic categories and grid entries and the relationship between syntactic categories and prosodic categories. Directionality effects are addressed in Chapter 5, and grid well-formedness are addressed in Chapter 6. Chapter 7 examines boundary effects, and Chapter 8 focuses on feet.

This chapter studies H.D.’s translations of choruses from Euripides’s Iphigeneia in Aulis (1915) and Hippolytus (1919). Tracing her shifting concern from image to sound, the author argues that her work mirrors Eliot’s and Pound’s preoccupations of that period; her play Hippolytus Temporizes (1927) – abstract and formalist, yet rooted in the specific circumstances of its time – especially reflects this. More specifically, she show that the “Choruses from Iphigeneia” are a first attempt to compose, on the one hand, a long Imagist poem and, on the other, to write a “poem including history.” She then homes in on H.D.’s treatment of Euripidean rhythm and meter in the Hippolytus plays, through which H.D. questions the relationship between “antiquity” and “modernity” as well as the possibility and value of writing poetry itself. H.D. engages with discourses on Greek antiquity, which are woven into her translations and play; unlike Pound and Eliot’s mostly rhetorical engagement, H.D. measures out in her work how to translate Greek poetics into English, and yet is almost as ambivalent as Pound about the value of Greek.

In the two loci classici about Roman satire, Quintilian and Diomedes famously draw a bifurcation of the history of the genre into two strands, which often comes in handy for modern scholars. This chapter argues that this bifurcation is the result of a stratification of, and compromise between, at least two different views: a communis opinio held by most authors of satire of the Republican period and their readers, and the single but ‘authoritative’ view of Horace, who established meter as a formal criterion to define satire. This chapter traces the origins of both views by discussing the relevant sources, and shows how Horace’s Satires appropriated pre-existing ideas about the nature and history of the genre, innovated on key aspects of them, and became a source of original ideas in turn. A similar scheme applies to Quintilian and Diomedes too: their perspective combines previous stances, but this combination itself represents an innovation which influences our own view of Roman satire in turn. Thus, while focusing on Roman satire, this chapter discusses a more general dynamic in the creation of literary histories.

Introducing the concept of verse history and adapting Roman Jakobson's distinction between verse design and verse instance, this chapter considers a sequence of brief case studies drawn from the work of multiple writers: the Beowulf poet, William Langland, the Gawain poet, John Gower, Wallace Stevens, Elizabeth Willis, Victoria Chang, and André 3000. The chapter proposes that, even after free verse, reading poetry historically still must involve a consideration of the relationship of rhythm to meter. The potential for friction between verse instance and verse design, and more broadly between poems and poetry, implies a need for relations of supplementarity. Moments of rhythmical disturbance disclose how what one had located outside the lone poem – a metrical template, a political ideal, or a historical event – comes rushing into it and through it.

This chapter reviews how verse and prose romances in French and other Western European vernaculars developed through formal experimentation. Emphasizing the skill with which verse writers negotiated formal choices, the chapter analyses in detail the octosyllabic rhyming couplet that became the most common verse romance meter in several languages, before outlining the surprising variety of forms that distinguished Middle English romance. The complex relationship of form to genre – romance, epic, and lyric – in different linguistic and cultural contexts is also discussed, as is the virtuoso practice of inserting lyrics into verse romance narratives. The second half of the chapter describes the genesis and spread of romance writing in prose, now so ordinary as to seem a nonform, but once radically innovative and carrying a particular ideological freight. It analyses the “myth of prose,” which allowed prose romance writers to claim a truthfulness and objectivity for their form that they denied to verse. In spite of such claims, verse romance was nevertheless preferred in some languages and cultural contexts.

The third chapter turns to the body in erotic poetry. Here the temporal frame widens to embrace the experience of the present within longer human spans, a rhythm over lifetimes garnered through instances of erotic embodiment. Poetry can bind the inexplicable presence of touch to time, and can also summon the past as presence through the reenactment of the poem itself in performance, a dynamic we see at work in Sappho and then again in the modern erotic poetry of Anne Sexton and Sharon Olds – begging the question of why certain poetics recur across time. This is poetry that challenges the ephemerality of embodied experience by showing its power to reenact the force of touch.

Chapter four investigates archaic inscriptions and the interplay of song and stone in the poetry of Simonides. The tradition of Simonides gives us both epitaphic inscription and choral epinician, two poetic genres whose means and methods might be seen as so widely divergent as to be unrelated. However, I will explore how the substance of song and the fixity of objects are both in play on both sides of the song and stone divide, through a situatedness that allows Simonides to make claims that memories of the past will endure into the future.

The chapter begins with a section on the Egyptian Marxist Louis Awad’s radical modernist poetic project Plutoland from 1947. The chapter engages Awad’s critical intervention to lay out the transnational roots of Arabic poetry from the premodern period to the twentieth century before moving on to address the intricacies of the Arabic prosodic rules he wanted the modernists to break. In the second section, I give technical details about how I represent poetic meters throughout the rest of the book and explain the science of Arabic prosody. Next, the chapter covers critical approaches to modernist poetry in both Arabic and Persian, paying particular attention to the critics’ positions on the possibility of composing politically committed poetry. I then transition into a long section on the history of literary commitment, its philosophical foundations, and the role it played in Arabic and Persian poetic criticism. In a brief conclusion, I suggest a way out of the debates that took shape around literary commitment and offer further details on my balancing of formalist and contextual analytical approaches to the poetry I read in the later chapters.

Metrical patterns reveal that in Roman Comedy music and memory worked closely together. Roman audiences had distinct and clear memories of music they had heard in the theater. Plautus and Terence, in patterning the music of their plays, relied on spectators’ memory of earlier music in the play they were watching, musical conventions of the genre, and specific musical moments in earlier plays, and they employed music in ways reminiscent of the reprises and other techniques of musical repetition in American Musical Theater. The importance of musical memory is particularly evident in Plautus’ Amphitruo, where metrical repetition reveals four different musical motifs, surrounding, respectively, the play’s iambic senarii, trochaic septenarii, iambic octonarii, and bacchiacs. Each motif works because spectators would remember music from plays they had seen before and from previous scenes in Amphitruo itself. In each case Plautus’ play with musical memories contributes to the generic uncertainty surrounding this unique tragicomoedia, helping to make clear that in fact Amphitruo transcends all the generic categories with which its audience would be familiar.