Rumination*

(6 March 2010) Is it important for poetry to be accessible? There has been an interesting discussion of this topic on Wild Poetry Forum lately. When I first look at a poem, I am looking for something to be interested in. If I find nothing, I will probably keep moving. There is, after all, an abundance of poetry available. (Thanks to "popova" on Wild for that link.) I don't need to spend time trying to read poetry I can't understand; a little looking will bring me to something that speaks to me—but one mustn't be too hasty. Some poems are well worth the effort required to appreciate them. Most of the time I will simply go on instinct. If I think there's something there worth looking for, I'll look. This could be based on prior knowledge, such as familiarity with the poet, or a recommendation from a friend. It may also just be a feeling, possibly a subconscious recognition of beauty not evident at first reading. I'm sure there's a great deal of randomness involved, a property that is in good supply in the Universe.

Elizabeth Bishop's three standards for poetry were accuracy, spontaneity, and mystery. Mystery is no easy trick. Obscurity, however, is no trick at all.

I've been guilty of deliberate obscurity. I hope this wasn't out of a desire to appear more intelligent than I really am, but I have had worse desires than that in my life, and so may be a suspect. If I am trying to make my readers feel stupid, then I am truly the stupid one, unless for some reason I see poetry as something other than communication, something that can exist in a vacuum, so to speak—an exercise that is completed when I'm done putting characters on (virtual) paper, requiring no audience.

No, I'm afraid my reasons for deliberate obscurity have been perhaps even worse. It has come from an unwillingness to clearly address topics which are personally uncomfortable, and furthermore from a weakness of expression, an inability to precisely address my topic or idea. Somehow I think by dancing around the real subject I might create a sort of silhouette that will bring it to the reader's attention without disturbing either of us. This, I am coming to see, is a bad idea. I intend to try to do better.

As has been observed, it is a wide world with room for all types of poetry, writing, and other forms of art. Audiences vary. It is inexpressibly valuable to me to have the feedback of this forum, because for me, there is no point in writing poetry unless it will catch someone's "blind eye" (thank you Mark Kempf). Once again, Wild has provided me with a hell of a lot to think on.

(4 February 2010) Again, listening to Weekday on KUOW: W. S. Merwin was visiting Seattle yesterday (he lives on Maui) to read at a fund-raiser to benefit Copper Canyon Press, and spent an hour talking with Steve Scher. The podcast mp3 may be downloaded here.

Merwin told about his meeting with Ezra Pound when he was young, and spoke of writing poetry, being a poet, and the place of poetry in our culture. For Merwin, translation has been the key to a better understanding of his own language. He brought up the idea that poetry is different from other art forms in that it must use the same language that's used for everyday communication.

What, after all, is the place of poetry in the USA today? For the most part, reading poetry seems to be something indulged in by that small part of the population that writes poetry. This will be mostly academics, and a few others. As has been discussed elsewhere, poetry has become (in large part) an art form practiced by college professors under the "publish or perish" doctrine.

I recently heard Patti Smith interviewed on Fresh Air, and also on Steve Scher's Weekday program on KUOW in Seattle. Truth to tell, I haven't paid much attention to Ms. Smith, nor her late close friend Robert Mapplethorpe, but I was very impressed with what I heard in these conversations. I'll have to do some retroactive/retrospective research, I suppose. In the course of the KUOW interview, Scher asked her a question about how certain people might categorize her. She replied "They can call me anything they want. I got my own self-concept." I really like this; it's a motto worth adopting.

Finnegans Wake has been described as a dream, and I find that's a useful way to think of it. This 625 page work has more or less had my attention since I was a teenager. After I read Joyce's earlier works, the Wake was the obvious next step. Faced with its nearly-impenetrable language and style I came to a screeching halt. I tried Joseph Campbell's Skeleton Key, but really didn't find it all that helpful in getting a handle on this work.

Earlier this year I started work on a short story and found myself using quotes from Finnegans Wake to separate its sections. My main character is a college professor who is somewhat obsessed with the Wake. The more I dipped into the big book the more I realized what an injustice I was committing, using pieces of this work to which I'd not really given a fair reading.

In poking around the web for help, I discovered the website of the Finnegans Wake Society of New York, and from there learned that there was a Wake reading group not far from me, near Tacoma. I've spent a few monthly meetings with them, they've been most kind and tolerant, and I've learned a great deal about this wonderful book. Furthermore, I've adopted the opinion—shared by many— that the Wake is a book best read aloud, and in a group.

I won't attempt to talk about Finnegans Wake as if I knew what it's "about," since I don't, nor will I discuss its themes, or puns, or symbolism. All these areas are best left to people more familiar with the book, such as this fellow.

gallery, New Orleans, 2009

Here's a link to an interesting article in Slate Magazine, "How to Read John Ashbery," by Meghan O'Rourke.

I don't remember where I originally saw the reference to this article, so I cannot extend my gratitude properly, but I am grateful to whom or whatever supplied the link that caused me to first see it. Not only is it a great help in understanding Mr. Ashbery's work, it is a very good essay on the subject of reading poetry in general.

Artists often gain widespread appreciation and approval long after they've left this world. I think it's likely that in the twenty-second century, should humans still inhabit the Earth and have the ability to read, and appreciate art, they may be enchanted by the virtuosos of so-called "comic" art, including what's known as the "graphic novel." I follow Achewood , by Chris Onstadt, and consider him nothing less than a genius. If you've not enjoyed his work, go take a look. Our descendants will be studying him in college, should there be such a thing in the future.

I don't mean to leave out any of the great comic-book artists and writers, but I'm really fairly ignorant in this field and there are better sources of information. A few other names I know and appreciate are Harvey Pekar, Robert Crumb (obviously), and Neil Gaiman (The Sandman series, and others). A terrific place to peruse such work online is htmlcomics.com.