atemporality and embodiment

I'm really struck by how static these poems are: their logic seems anagrammic rather than narrative. If we expect love poems to move from "desired object" to "attained object," or "loved object" to "lost object," Scève's shuttle between "Délie" and "l'idée," without giving us much indication of progress in one direction or the other. Unlike sonnets, whose final couplets give at least a formal sense of closure, Scève's dizains aren't end-oriented; they -- like the squared-in emblems -- tend to mirror themselves.

My favorite example is #112, where "amoureuses sommes" in l.4 is rhymed with "nous sommes" in l.5: just when the speaker thinks he's relieved of his "sommes," these burdens get equated with existence itself. Suffering isn't going anywhere; the emblematic SOUFFRIR NON SOUFFRIR is effectively tautological rather than self-negating, the "non" permanently stuck between symmetrical sufferings. The poem ends when the wounded soul "Fait résonner le circuit Plancien," as if both the speaker and the city of Lyon, still walled in by its Roman governor, have been frozen in time.

This kind of atemporal circuitry doesn't seem to leave much room for the body, at least not a living, breathing one. Then again, even if the textual body seems from the start pretty petrified -- the dizains are stonily introduced as "si durs Epigrammes" -- there does seem to be some breathing room. In the opening "A Sa Délie," the poet's "deaths" are positively described as "renewed" ("les morts qu'en moi tu renovelles"), and even the funereal "si durs Epigrammes" contain plenty of unfixed "erreur."

So I'm really interested in Greg's question about reading aloud, and whether orality can give these poems some directionality and life. On the one hand, the voice is connected to the living body, while the text is divorced from it. On the other hand, voice dissolves into the air, while the text is embodied permanently on the page, an "immortal body" that can substitute for a mortal body. We might consider this paradox in relation to Rabelais' Prologue, where readers are asked to store the book in their bodily memories, just in case printing suddenly ceased. What kind of embodiment -- if any -- does Scève suggest is proper to poetry?