This article is based on this Dutch article of Martinus Benders: https://martijnbenders.substack.com/p/er-duiken-weer-enzovoortellipsi-op
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Are Enzovoortellipsi Emerging Again?
What an unparalleled pleasure, what a literary triumph to once again wander through the lush gardens of Dutch-language poetry on the digital pages of Neerlandistiek! And behold, like a radiant fountain of genius, the work of Esohe Weyden, the youthful virtuoso born in 1999, whose collection *Richtingloos navigeren* (Pelckmans, 2025) fills us all with ecstasy.
## Dilemma
### I.
It is different this time.
From the peak of unbridled joy
I look down upon my old life.
My heart overflows.
Greedily, I pour in more happiness
until it spills over the edges.
(…)
Et cetera.
Oh, what a discovery, what a poetic apotheosis!
Take note, the et cetera in this case is a *silent et cetera*, also known in poetry as an *enzovoortellipsis*.
Anyone capable of capturing such *enzovoortellipsi* in a poem is quickly crowned a genius in the literary world.
(In poetry, silences or unspoken elements like these are often referred to as ellipsis—from the Greek ἔλλειψις, meaning “omission”—or, in a broader sense, as *aposiopesis*, the sudden breaking off of a sentence, which creates a pause. In this case, “ellipsis” is the most fitting term, as it specifically refers to the omission of something that remains implicitly present.)
Within the tradition of negative theology, where God is approached solely through what He is *not*, we find a parallel. The ellipsis becomes a divine absence that paradoxically suggests an all-encompassing presence. As Meister Eckhart wrote: *”God is a word, an unspoken word.”* Weyden’s poetry secularizes this mystical insight: happiness, melancholy, rapture—they exist most powerfully where they are left unspoken. The emptiness becomes a mirror, reflecting the reader’s own inevitable, human desire to project presence into absence.
***
But this level of ingenuity is found not only among newer generations. Consider the work of Mark Van Tongelre, who had this poem featured on the Coster list:
### Mark Van Tongele • Always There is More
The course of great currents of passion.
Wars, territorial obsession, trade deals.
Weighty syllables, insults, gunfire
and terrorist threats. Incorrect contractions.
Billions and abuse. Chaos, tear gas
and promises floating in the air. Targets. Takke-
weer viezevazen ziegezagen wegedoorn
wenegroen pezewever oelewapper pielepoot.
Howling waves and foaming
wind. Bottleneck. Stress. Whiplash.
Shouting, laughter, and parliamentary murmurs.
Lobbying. Stalking. Ugh, posturing!
Mighty rollers overwhelm the sea-
barrier, battering concrete piers.
Is language not always totalitarian in nature,
a seizing of the other?
Let it be our place to take
initiative against it!
Mark Van Tongele (1956-2023)
from: *Zonnewater* (Uitgeverij P, 2024)
In Mark Van Tongelre’s work, the enzovoortellipsis manifests differently, yet just as radically. His poem *Always There is More* is bursting with linguistic violence—”Targets. Takke- / weer viezevazen ziegezagen wegedoornwenegroen pezewever oelewapper pielepoot.”—but the true ellipsis lies in its *structure*. Van Tongelre’s lines are fragments, shards of a chaotic world, lacking explicit connections. The reader is compelled to supply the missing logic: why does “Howling waves” follow “parliamentary murmurs”? What links “bottleneck” to “stress”? Here, the ellipsis is not a mere dot-dot-dot but a *chasm* between images, a silence the reader must bridge. The poem refuses to be linear, just as modern reality refuses to be unambiguous.
Yet, there is a crucial parallel: both poets use ellipsis to turn the reader into an *active participant*. With Weyden, it is through the unspoken joy; with Van Tongelre, through the unconnected turmoil. Both illustrate that poetry is not just about what is written, but about what is absent—a truth that echoes in the silence of Celan and the voids of Mallarmé. The enzovoortellipsis is not an unsightly hole in the text; it is a *meaning-making machine*, transforming absence into presence, chaos into significance. And in grasping that, one understands why Van Tongelre’s final line—”Let it be our place to take initiative against it!”—is not merely a call to resist but also a celebration of the reader who, through the silence, completes the poem.
Seen in this way, the enzovoortellipsis is not merely a stylistic device—it is an *ethic*. It reminds us that language is never complete and that the human yearning for meaning—like the divine in Eckhart—can only be approached through what is missing. A lesson that makes both Weyden’s youthful virtuosity and Van Tongelre’s late experiments timeless.
With regards,
Martinus Benders, 24-03-2025