Monday, March 22, 2010

I am motley

An excerpt from an excellent post on Josiah Bancroft's blog. I love this conversation:

"It’s expected that a book of poems now will have a clear theme, a narrative arc, a formal consistency, a unified voice. Formula and genre are popular, supposedly, because they infer a readership, but ostensibly the “concept” collection comes with its toe-tag already filled out.

The Variety Hour poetry collection, that motley collection of big personalities and small oddities, is increasingly rare, and its disappearance (or growing irrelevance) has profoundly changed the way poetry is written. When a poet sets out to write to a theme, or genre, or voice, or arch, the concept becomes the product; the poet is writing to a hole in a project and not writing to answer a yawp or heartbeat. Repetitious and incomplete poems, dependent and self-referential poems abound within the smug covers of the concept collection. I have often heard poets write or say that their work has to be experienced in toto, that their individual poems can’t stand alone. I can’t imagine a more feeble position; they are essentially saying, “I must be studied and plumbed to be enjoyed or understood.” Such poems are, in effect, entries rather than entities.

I often argue for poetry for the people, and so I cannot say with any resolve that coherence is inferior to variety, or that universality is better than genre. But our insistence that we produce and present our work in neat categories forestalls a lot of creative influence and experimentation. I want to have faith in my voice and ideas, not in a genre, not in a “project.”"

I would love to continue the conversation here...any takers?

3 comments:

M. Cherry said...

I find that excerpt very interesting. I must admit that I am alarmed by this trend. It does seem that, oftentimes, poems that are written just to fit into a book turn out to be rather weak poems. They seem lifeless, without a soul.

At any rate, when I think of favorite poetry, I always think of individual poems, not books. Books only matter to me, as a reader, if they contain individual poems that I like.

I think that the consciousness of the poet is sufficient to unify a collection. If each individual poem is not sufficiently incandescent in its own right, then I couldn't care less about the narrative arc. If the arc adds something, great. It's not enough by itself.

On the other hand, I do recognize that having a larger project can help generate poems, and it can help a poet to focus her/his energies. (I have a few such projects in mind, myself.) So, I'm not against writing poems that fit into a book. I just think that they must be kick-ass on an individual level, foremost. When it comes down to it, a bad poem is a bad poem; context does not redeem bad writing.

Josiah Bancroft said...

"...the consciousness of the poet is sufficient to unify a collection," is an important point. Voice and fascination are as reliably unique as fingerprints.

I agree that a poetic project can provide a helpful focus for a writing regimen. And of course, there are "project" collections that are absolutely wonderful; I'm a big fan of Ciaran Carson's Belfast Confetti which is very thematic, with narrative streaks running throughout, and which is full of poems that have legs all their own.

And thanks, Gary, for featuring my post.

Matthew said...

I see there will be a panel on putting together a first book at AWP this year, dubbed "the 25th poem" — borrowed from Frost's notion that, if a book has 24 poems, the book should be the 25th poem.

In a sense, this calls for the clarity and coherence of a "theme" collection, but I too grow weary of such a trend. It seems limiting.

I think there are ways to write poems with urgency and import that somehow find a place in a larger shape by the work of ordering. It doesn't all have to be preconceived.

Thanks for sparking—or continuing—this conversation.