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It is that kind of book, where fragments capture a thought you could never get right into words.

La poetica del espacio/ The Poetry of Space by Gaston Bachelard (2006, Paperback)

Jun 22, Geoff rated it it was amazing Shelves: Well, it’s nice to have a theory about the efficacy of poetic images, and it’s a convincing theory. Imagine you’re magically transported back to your first home. These intimate spaces, the house, the cellar, the basement etc.

In my mind, phenomenology works as a sort of directional opposite to psychology, which takes a person’s reaction to a given situation and tries to trace said reaction to their root causes and conceptions.

Nothing is too minor or mundane for him. This harmony is his revolt. What a marvelous mundane epiphany. As one reads, one takes shorthand from the philosopher’s imagination.

I always wonder what to say about a book when I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time reading it. Bachelard then takes the house as a primary point when investigating subjects from ‘attics’ to ‘basement’, and from ‘corners’ to ’roundness’. Return to Book Page. Houses, doors, walls, windows, roofs, cellars, chests, drawers, locks, and in our more primitive, pre-memorial past, nests, shells, trees, forests Oct 19, Brandy rated it it was amazing.

¿Qué es el instante poético, según Gastón Bachelard?

Mark Leyner did that sort of thing better. The text is steeped in whimsy and speculation. How such poetic image originates. And all the spaces of our past moments of solitude, the sp This is a really interesting book, from the phenomenological perspective, about space.

It is not through shocks to the intellect or fireworks of mind-bending paradox that Bachelard affects you, but through encouraging you to look again and again, quietly, at the simplest interactions with the simplest of objects and places of your life, your past, and to see them afresh, to see how they have entered into your being and expanded their quiddity to impress themselves on all aspects of your psyche.


A continuum can imply some sort of progression, but it may be better to think of these responses as simply different, if even that. Perhaps this is a typical response to reading, or at least to reading a very good piece. Espwcio wasn’t Bachelard’s poeticca with psychoanalysis, although that hasn’t aged very well — the nattering on about psychoanalytical approaches to phenomenology sounded silly and smelled moldy, and was about as engaging as reading about phrenological approaches actually, that might have been more interesting.

Essentially, he discusses ways we try to define intimate spaces around us that are still themselves whether occupied or not.

The window which opens to a sea of faces at dusk, an assurance that life moves on irrespective of lingering darkness. How the creative consciousness associates with a poetic image to give a specific reality which is a reverberation creating harmony within a being. Undertaking Proustian journeys down memory lane he evokes images of fairy tale cottages and feelings of security and happiness. But Bachelard’s further investigation is proving a bit difficult for me.

I also appreciated the importance he attributed to poetry.

Being does not see itself. It is in reverie or daydream, then, that he finds space for his phenomenology, describing the dimly felt sensations of intimacy we connect with the structures surrounding us.

I appreciated the fluent mixing of psychoanalysis and lyrical criticism. When he states that values alter facts I know this whole phenomenology business has gone not just straight to his head, but over it, and good. Books by Gaston Bachelard. Bachelard was something of a polymath who began his career as a postman, espaacio himself physics and chemistry, and then became a philosophy professor at the Sorbonne.

The human consciousness is if anything mutable, it changes willingy and unwillingly, it persistently interacts with the images it has hoarded over the years, it converses with its present surroundings and is in communication with the places faston has inhabited in other times.

I’ve never really decided how I really feel about l text. Aug 24, Sarah marked lw as unfinished Shelves: The things that work are SO wonderful, but I still can’t make head or tail of phenomenology in general and plenty of this book in particular.


La Poetica Del Espacio by Bachelard, Gaston

His thinking is suitably eclectic. I do absolutely love this book, and it became in many ways a kind of manifesto for me. Even when I appreciated his insights, Bachelard’s voice had me slightly annoyed.

Bachelard is trying to understand the “happy mind” – the mind making itself a home everywher I’ve failed to explain Bachelard to so many people by now that I should know better. Paperbackpages.

Words create solidity, images evoke a concreteness, there is a realness to every written thing, no matter how abstract, and the mind reaches toward comprehension of each potent image; it is in these realms that the work of art reigns, expressing our humanity in dynamic, personalized terms.

What is marvelous about it, though, is that you don’t need to understand most of it to get a great deal of plea I do absolutely love this book, and it became in many ways a kind of manifesto for me. Sometimes the discovery is not sudden but gradual, brought about by a continuing familiarity with the places. Each line he writes is filled with the wonder of a man who stops to smell the flowers and rediscovers the meaning in life in that infinitely small gesture. Feb 11, Josh rated it it was amazing.

This is why phenomenology as practiced by Bachelard, though a branch of philos It’s one of those great books with the rare ability to put into words everything I’ve always known. From being imagined, calm becomes an emergence of being. Bachelard starts The Poetics of Space with a reference to the poetic image: It wasn’t even the tossed words salads he threw together on every page.

Borrowing Bachelard’s seminal point of contact, his Poetics remains half-open. To inhabit oneirically the house we were born in means more than to inhabit it in memory; it means living in this house that is gone, the way we used to dream in it.

His cult idolisation of Bergson probably helps him along in this respect.