We've been having some interesting discussions about poems, poetry, and poetics on the PoetryEtc list -- some of it focused around my own recent work. Frederick Pollack offered some thorough and pointed criticism of my poems -- and my 'kind' of poetry.
What is my kind of poetry? Mainstream, I gather. Lyrical, perhaps. Not, certainly, his favorite sort.
While I'm unlikely to change the kind of poetry I write, Frederick's critiques and perspective are being very helpful. I find myself thinking, for the first time in too long, about what I'm doing, and why; how I do it, and to what end. I've been lazy lately. The poems have come too easily, and I've posted them too quickly.
I read poems, and I read books about writing poems; but I don't often read, or think much about, criticism or theory. Perhaps, twenty years in, it's past time.
Frederick's advice:
Two tips: 1. Distinguish between your genuinely subjective experience and your narrowly autobiographical experience. The former is what counts. As I said before, neither "I" nor "you" (nor parents, siblings, Aunt Tilly etc.) are at all important in themselves; only as functions of a poem and how it engineers its reader's experience. 2: Realize that a narrative, a story, is a metaphor. In a narrative poem, the guiding incident is the poem's metaphor. (Stylistically, therefore, there should be as few other metaphors as possible.)
While the first point is familiar to me, the second brought me up short. Not regarding narrative poetry, which I seldom attempt, but regarding what I do write. I thought about how image-heavy my poems tend to be. Then I looked around the room.
My house is just the same. Every wall is covered with art. Every room, even the bathrooms, the kitchen, the closet/ dressing room. Tables and shelves are covered with books, magazines, artifacts. There are goldfish in the garden, parakeets in the sunroom, a small aquarium in the living room, and cats and dogs wherever they please. Everywhere, memories, totems, collections. Also dust, dishes, and pet hair.
I conclude that my house, and my poems, reflect my mind: cluttered, personal, eclectic. Dusty. And I wonder -- have you noticed such correlations in your own writing? Do your poems look like your house, minimal and modern, or traditional, or Bohemian, or . . . ? Would an attempt to change the style of your writing be like an attempt to change the style of your rooms? And would that be easily done, or not?
I love my house, and don't plan to change it. But you might expect to see some experimentation here.
Yeah, you've raised some good points here and it is important to step back sometimes and examine what we're doing and why we're doing it. I just re-fitted my kitchen today, I wonder what that says about my writing?
Keep on experimenting..
Posted by: Sweet Talking Guy.. | 21 July 2008 at 05:24 PM
Anything that helps you step back and read your poems objectively, at least after they've been written and allowed to cool off, is a big help. An extended metaphor is a tricky feat to accomplish, I think.
Your house sounds wonderful, lively, warm artistic, creative.... does this describe your poetry too?
Posted by: christine | 21 July 2008 at 06:48 PM
But ultimately you have to listen to what your own voice is saying to you. When you don't listen that voice, you'll regret it. I've done it and mourn what is lost.
There's nothing wrong with having poems come to easily. It's when they don't come does it rough.
Yes experimentation isn't too bad but don't get lost either. You''ll find the road again in the end but it's not the same either.
Posted by: Cathy | 21 July 2008 at 06:51 PM
what you say here: "I find myself thinking, for the first time in too long, about what I'm doing, and why; how I do it, and to what end" breaks my heart. you're not presenting it that way; i've just been there, where something makes me doubt myself. it's fine to wonder about improving your work -- but don't let the criticism get too far into your brain. you do good work.
Posted by: carolee | 21 July 2008 at 07:00 PM
fun ideas to think about! hmmn, yes my house sounds like yours...rish with experience, eclectic...lived in?
Posted by: art predator | 21 July 2008 at 10:54 PM
You're right, there is a correlation between the style of one's poems and one's rooms. I think trying to write in a style that didn't please me on a core level would be like trying to live in a hotel room.
Posted by: Nathan | 22 July 2008 at 02:33 AM
Great questions that I will certainly be giving some thought to. I am going through the process at the moment of trying to escape from the rooms inside my head, so to speak. Thanks for this timely post.
Posted by: Brad Frederiksen | 22 July 2008 at 05:49 AM
It's always always useful to see criticism like this to clarify what it is I think about these things. For instance, I disagree with both points Frederick makes! Though perhaps I think the first point simply makes a distinction without a difference. Was WCW's red wheelbarrow a genuine subjective moment or mere autobiography? And if I knew, why would I care?
Posted by: Cindy | 22 July 2008 at 11:30 AM
Many things about our lifestyles are projected in our writing. For me, I'll put something together and call it done. If it doesn't quite work, next time I'm determined to do better (even if it does work). Practice makes....well nothing's perfect!
Posted by: stan ski | 24 July 2008 at 06:13 PM
Interesting post. Experimentation can be good.
Posted by: Tumblewords | 24 July 2008 at 09:00 PM
Interesting post. Experimentation is definitely a good thing.
Given all my haiku, if my house was like my poetry I'd probably live in a cooly stylish Zen minimalist loft, dotted with the occasional bonsai. The truth is very different.
Posted by: Crafty Green Poet | 25 July 2008 at 01:08 AM
I agree, this is an interesting post. I've not studied poetry...as anyone who reads my attempts at poems will attest. However, if I was to compare it to my home, I would say that it isn't cluttered with craft, photos or memorabilia but rather the clutter of everyday life...empty coffee cups waiting to go into the sink, pets and pet hair, easy to clean furniture...hubbies socks that he didn't put in the laundry hamper and last weeks newspaper. Every now and then, I go and do a big clean/tidy up but mostly to impress an expected visitor.
Maybe my poetry reflects my home...messy but all me.
Posted by: Bev | 25 July 2008 at 05:36 AM