ht sky, and follows it with the statement, "So long as the sky is recognized as on association" (187). He speaks to the reader with sincerity, with an enthusiasm that often descends into madness: If I could say what is in my mind in Sanscrit or even Latin I would do so. But I cannot. I speak for the integrity of the soul and the greatness of life's inanity; the formality of its boredom; the orthodoxy of its stupidity. Kill! Kill! let there be fresh meat . . . (179) Spring and All is a map of Williams' imagination, a collection of poems cemented by "prose" explanation. He wants to leave no doubt about what he is expressing, presenting himself as his own critic. Like Whitman, the reader becomes part of Williams' persona through an expression of the universality of thought, an "approximate co-extension with the universe." For Williams the reader would ideally enter the world of his poem so completely as to become lost, having no separate identity from that of the poet. In the imagination, we are henceforth (so long as you read) locked in a fraternal embrace, the classic caress of author and reader. We are one. Whenever I say "I" I mean also "you." (178) To accomplish this the poet must evoke in us the ability to identify with the external world, and consequently the world of his poem. Williams' use of imagery encourages on attentiveness of imagination within the reader. In "Spring and All," he describes the creation of images in the mind, within a lifeless wasteland: "One by one objects are defined-/ It quickens: clarity, outline of leaf . . . rooted, they/ grip down and begin to awaken'' (183). The image of the leaf becomes a metaphor for the growth of an image within the mind. What Williams is calling for is no less than a reconnection with the external world - a simple response to a simple image. In "The Red Wheelbarrow" even metaphor seems absent. Will...
