Reinventing the Life of a Poet in the Modern World

Author: Big Bang Poetry (Page 12 of 64)

The Essay Project: Metaphors

DobynsThis week's essay is Stephen Dobyns’ “Metaphor and the Authenticating Act of Memory” which can be found in his book, Best Words, Best Order.

This is a great essay if you’re into metaphorical writing. If you’re more of a language poet, not-so-much. Dobyns refers to symbolist poets who feel a poet is a “bright light” but disagrees with them and believes a poem should communicate something to readers.

If you’ve read Dobyns, he’s not an experimental, language poet. He seeks communication and for him the metaphor is a big part of that explosion of understanding between two people.

The essay is full of declarations about what poetry is:

“..if the poem is incapable of establishing an intimate relationship with is audience, then it simply isn’t a poem.”

He does invoke Gertrude Stein and her theories about cliched metaphors. He attributes this to sophistication in readers. For example, readers today are too smart for old metaphors that connect the loneliness to the moon. I see the issue as more that metaphors have overstayed their welcome and become a tiresome guest, or maybe have been so fully swallowed up into our subconscious metaphorical thinking they're not surprising anymore. In a sense, these dead metaphors have just sublimated themselves into everyday language.

Later Dobyns says, “A poem should obey the rules of simple discourse: information must be exchanged and understood.”

This sounds like a challenge that language poets would be happy to take up. Poetry is impressively evasive of “shoulds.” On the other hand, poems about the gaps in communication are getting pretty long in the tooth themselves in these days of propaganda and misinformation. It feels like we’ve willfully weakened a collective communication muscle.

This is going to sound strange, but I kind of feel a mental-orgasmic pleasure at conceptualizing metaphors and don't quite understand people who have a distaste for them. Sometimes I wonder if those people might have fewer metaphorical taste buds or sensations, or are just no good at metaphorical mapping…or maybe they have too many taste buds and are  overwhelmed by the concepts. Nothing wrong with that. If you don’t enjoy logical, analytical thinking, you won’t enjoy metaphors.

But this essay is about metaphors and poems seeking participation from their readers and how the connection can be aided with metaphorical language, including simile, allegory, analogy, to use Dobyns’ examples.

Dobyns says, “…the actual subject of any poem is the reader. The poem should be where the reader sees himself afresh, momentarily freed from the trappings of the world. But for this to occur, the reader must be able to find his way into the poem as a participant.”

He names types of recognition which he says should be balanced in a poem: intellectual, physical and emotional.

He likes open-ended, somewhat mysterious metaphors and he gives a treasure trove of great examples, which would be useful for classroom instruction I would bet, my favorite being, “A liar is like an egg in mid air.” He also uses many full poems as examples, including Tomas Transtromer’s “Face to Face,” M.W. Merwin’s “When You Go Away,” Jean Follain’s “Signs,” Michael Ryan’s “Consider a Move,” the old poem “Western Wind,” Stanley Kunitz “My Sisters,” James Wright’s “Outside Fargo, North Dakota,” and Wallace Stevens’ “The House Was Quiet and the World Was Calm.” 

He  defines mystery vs. vagueness which only ever leads to dead ends and he puts early Imagist poets in the vague cateogry  in a convincing argument. There needs to be sufficient information for possible comparison and he says, “Imagist attempted to erase the comparative role of the image.” Which, yeah…they kinda did. But they wanted you to supply the second half. In a way, that can be seen as more participatory. Although he’s right, it limits communication between poet and reader regarding the exact same idea. In the case of these Imagist poems, they’re like exercises in a workbook; what the reader comes up with the poet will never know.

The essay also talks about the metaphorical plane of reference and the plane of feeling. There’s a great section about how our mind might understand metaphors subconsciously before we assemble them consciously.

Electronic Literature: Weirdwood Manor

WeirdwoodI just finished iPad reading this interactive novel called Weirdwood Manor. Although the word finished is relative. After spending money for 6 books in the series, I got to the end only to realize the end hasn’t been written. I was so pissed off.  There was no warning about this fact when I purchased the first 6 “books.” It’s like buying a novel and then getting to the end to find out you need to buy another novel that contains the real ending.

Not cool.

There were some good things about the story: it's a good example of narrative gaming (happily more heavily on the narrative than most) and it’s all about the love of books. There is a good system of hints to help you find every hidden thing, although you can’t easily get back to items you’ve missed unless you reread the entire book and touch all its hidden areas again, which is crazy. Since there wasn’t much payoff for peaking behind every hiding place, I stopped trying to go back and get a perfect "score." I also got tired of the puzzles after a while; they took too much manual dexterity for me (an old fart who never plays online games) and I can only imagine how kids with disabilities would do with them.

The music is great and the story is full of fun allusions to other fairy tales.  But the end dissolves into a tangle of imaginative theory about the nature of imagination.

Next book release date? Nowhere to be found doing a quick Google search so I’m moving on. Hope it all turns out.

NaPoWriMo 2020: The Death of Self Help Halfway!

Half

I'm halfway through National Poetry Writing Month for 2020. It's been quite a struggle to do these poems this year for some reason, maybe because the topic is kind of cerebral or maybe it's Coronavirus. Yeah, that's surely making the set a bit darker this year. Not just the virus itself but the politicization of the situations by people who are the primary victims of self-help mythologies.

Yeah, that doesn't help. 

Read the poems here: https://www.marymccray.com/napowrimo-2020.html

The Essay Project: Crafting Last Lines

FinDuring our first week of essays we talked about the line and the breath and I linked to a Charles Olson essay by Brendan C. Gillott (he's from Cambridge in the UK) which was mostly too much academic circling but had this interesting quote:

"…Stephen Fredman, who's study The Grounding of American Poetry: Charles Olson and the Emersonian Tradition has as its premise that US-American poetry characteristically has no ‘ground,’ no inherited tradition, and that much in modern American poetry can resultantly be understood as a search for some form of legitimating history. In Fredman’s account, Olson found his ground in Emerson and the American Transcendentalists, often considered (with some justice) to be the United States’ answer to the European Romantics.”

Crafting Last Lines

This is our last look at Elton Glaser's “Entrances and Exits: Three Key Positions in the Poem” which you can’t find online or in a published book.

Glaser quotes some good people here, including this summary of the important position of an ending line by Tess Gallagher who says, “the way in which you finish a poem is the most important place in the poem, the place where you’re going to satisfy or disappoint the urges that got you to write the poem in the first place.”

Oy. No pressure.

Stanley Kunitz also has a good quote. He doesn’t want “neat little resolutions” but likes an ending that is “both a door and a window,” a jumping-off point, not a stopping but a place where perceptions are expanding out.

Barbara Herrnstein Smith talks about a poem's “special terminal features,” its “self-evident truth,” that “confirms our experience.” Commonly, readers look for “authority and resonance.”

This reminded me of some Russel Banks short stories I just finished. None of them had resolute endings. But that still felt somewhat interesting.

Many writers and readers want something this essay describes as talismanic, something with the force of a proverb, gravitas, metaphoric, orgasmic, “the anchor or prophecy, prayer, or shadow of the apocalypse” (Maxine Kumin) or simply, a sense of closure.”

The problem is, truth and rightness are very relative. Think of two poems written in 2020 by a liberal versus a conservative poet. Both would be charged with alleged truths, gravitas and "rightness" in their own minds.

But James Merrill insists, “you don’t end pieces with dissonance.” There's some kind of musical closure these poets are describing. Tess Gallagher wants the “peak of emotion that contemporary writers think unfashionable, as if we haven't a right to our own passions and should taper off and be noncommittal in order to sneak up on the truth.”

And although I'm suspicious of poetic truths, I agree with Gallagher, too. We have a right to our feelings. And David Foster Wallace would warn us against abandoning them for fear of sentimentality. But it's not enough just to lay them out there. Everyone has feelings and passions. Do they rise to the level of poem's end?

Anne Sexton clarifies that “we don’t like poems that trail off” and Maxine Kumin continues the thought “so that the reader, poor fish, doesn’t actually know the poem has ended.” Kumin admits “it is possible for a poet to come down on an understatement that jars us to some apprehension of the truth.” She references the poems of Wallace Stevens and Charles Wright. Kumin likes the art of “shifting the focus or tone or intent at the poem with a socket wrench just at the end.”

Herrnstein Smith talks about “closural allusions,” words of finality like  sleep, death, dusk, night, autumn and winter.

The essay also asks you to beware of the forced ending with too much rhetoric. This is described as unearned, ornamental, too precious, fancy writing, that shows strain and hints at pomposity.

The essay lists helpful craft features for good endings, like imagism, repetition, sound and rhythm, puns, parallelism, antithesis, unusual syntax, unorthodox word order and asks us to look at the haiku's impact of great beginnings and endings in three lines!

Glaser himself seeks “carbon concentrated language,” pressure put to words and stopping when there's "nothing left to be said."

Howard Nemerov had my favorite comment in the piece, “Endings are somehow contained in their beginnings.”

Lots of good stuff here! Good luck with crafting your exits. 

Suggested readings: 
Maxine Kumin: "Closing the Door"
Barbara Herrnstein Smith: Poetic Closure
Robert Wallace: Writing Poems

Best closing lines from novels

Other blog posts for this essay:
Crafting Titles
Crafting First Lines

Poems Hidden in Other Things

Me-emOften in the world you come across poems that aren’t really poems, like comic strips or panels. My Dad argues that these are not really literature but I think they are, otherwise The New Yorker wouldn't publish their brand of pithy visual comics.

Liana Finck's visual poems can be found in the magazine. And I recently saw in a copy of Bon Appetit (which a friend has gifted us), where she did a very interesting alternative take on the food pyramid.

She's also on Instagram and has done a graphic memoir. Yes please. 

The Essay Project: Crafting First Lines

Dark-and-Stormy-Night

This is the second essay overview of three from Elton Glaser's “Entrances and Exits: Three Key Positions in the Poem” which you can’t find online or in a published book. 

Glaser quotes Robert Penn Warren who said, “the great battle of the poem is won or lost in the first line, or in the first five lines anyway.” This doesn't seem absolute to me. Some poems with weak first lines do recover. It all depends upon the reader. But the opening scene of any kind of discourse is a heavily loaded position. Structure matters. First lines are like foundations. Without strong first lines a poem could collapse.

But maybe you're going for that.

Glaser summarizes how first lines help a reader understand where they stand. First lines pull them in through the keyhole (to borrow from John Ashbery's quote from the first section of the essay). He also quotes William Stafford who uses the metaphor of the fishing line tugging on a fish. You're luring readers in.

Glaser offers some questions to consider:

1. Whose story is this poem?
2. Whose voice is speaking?
3. What promises does the first line make (in story or form)? Are conventions and patterns rewarded or thwarted?
4. Does the poem lure the reader in with suspense, a puzzle, a surprising or shocking image? 
5. Does the story start too far back? Does the story start in the middle of things?

Glaser quotes Nancy Willard who says a first line lets you into the house of the poem like a homeowner or a thief. I love that idea. As a writer, are you the owner or the thief?

Glaser himself talks about a poem relaxing into itself, that it must unlimber before the reader loses interest. This is an interesting idea. How stiff is the poem?

Most of the poets quoted in the essay seem to feel the first lines must command attention and offer authority, “the unadorned but resolute voice…who knows what he or she is talking about.” Language poems have called some of this into question. Questioning, lack of authority, lack of command can work sometimes, too. Feel free to experiment. Not everything will work. 

Glaser introduces Howard Moss' idea of setting the initial music of the poem to “intrigue the ear and the mind.” Your first line not only influences the reader but manipulates the writer, setting off down a certain musical path or another. It's often hard to break free of this initial musical impulse.

My rubric for myself has always been 'try not to be boring.' This goes for subject matter, story and the language. Glaser talks about the first line being "implicitly dramatic" and the  drama of syntax (sentence structure) or delayed verb.

In any case, the first line of the poem is an exciting place to be for both the writer and the reader. Enjoy your first lines!

Suggested readings:
Glaser recommends Howard Moss essay "The First Line" from his book of essays, Whatever is Moving 

Writer's Digest lists their favorite first lines of poems.

Other blog posts for this essay:
Crafting Titles
Crafting Last Lines

The Essay Project: Crafting Titles

GlaserElton Glaser came to visit Sarah Lawrence one day in the mid-1990s and read from Color Photographs of the Ruins, a book which I have not been able to find on Amazon strangely (even used) and only this one, very grainy photo. Although I do have a signed copy at home. I haven't read it yet.

Glaser also came with this essay in tow, “Entrances and Exits: Three Key Positions in the Poem” which you can’t find online or in a published book either.

I like a lot of this essay but not so much Glaser’s reason for writing it or for letting us in on why we should write good beginnings and endings: so overloaded readers of poetry can skim them to find promising prospects.

However dire the situation is for the gatekeepers of poetry journals and contests, I wouldn’t recommend that kind of reading practice Glaser calls “winnowing the worthwhile poems.” I’ve been pleasantly surprised too many times to depend on a poem's first or last line. Plus it’s very a ungenerous way to read strangers. Sure there’s an avalanche of poetry out there to read. For a professional reader, fine, use your silly tricks but that will just give you a lot of poems with soft middles.

For the rest of us, just read less poems and read them with your full attention. Live with the fact that you won’t be reading them all.

So you see, if I would have judged this essay but the same rubric Glaser recommends judging poems, I would have stopped reading it after page one, which is a shame because it has some great stuff in it. See?

Truth is there’s an art to getting in and out of a poem. And where there’s an art, there are rules and experimentation will always challenge those rules. Changes in cultural norms will result from those challenges. For example, jokes that sounded good in 1968 don’t work as well in 2020. We grow. But to break the rules, you should learn a few. And this essay is full of good rules.

Weak first and last lines can ruin the whole show. And a good title is like a marketing sign.

This week, we'll just focus on good titles.

Glaser starts by listing some of the poets who have eschewed titles: Emily Dickinson, Ford Madox Ford, Robert Creeley. But at the end of the day, Glaser points out, all title-less poems get titles slapped on them anyhow, [unless no one cares] so you may as well put your vote in?

What Glaser says a good title does:

1. A good tile will add another dimension to the poem (sometimes drastically) or lead you to approach a poem “at on oblique angle” and you can look back at the title with “unforeseen connections” to the poem. There’s pleasure in tracking the distance traveled between the “initial premise and the unpredictable resolution.” He gives a great example of this with the poem “Eating Tomatoes” by Janet Beeler Shaw. He shows how the title defies expectations and morphs from mock-serious to sensual to solemn. At the end of the day, the matrix broadens with a good title.

2. A good title can make an obtuse poem accessible.

3. Glaser quotes Charles Wright in describing the “particular pleasure in thinking up titles.” This is true. Why give that up?

4. Titles can be “miniature poems in themselves."

5. The title can act as a preview on a theme or scene, highlight a crucial clue, trigger a poem’s tone.

6. A poem can also shake up the premise about a form or style with a misleading title. Like for instance using Ode or Sonnet and then subverting expectations.

Glaser reminds us that John Ashbery called titles a keyhole into the poem. And that sneak peak is often delicious and voyeuristic. So often good titles have a magical quality or the echo of a ringmaster calling you into the tent.

Other blog posts for this essay:
Crafting First Lines
Crafting Last Lines

Henry David Thoreau, Nature and Poetics and a New Podcast

ThoreauHenry David Thoreau

I have written about science and poetry on this blog before, all the way back from when I published my first book of poetry, Why Photographers Commit Suicide, a book part science poetry and part science-fiction. I'm always interested in breaking down the divide between literature and science. In that spirit, The Atlantic magazine published a great article tying Henry David Thoreau to this, "What Thoreau Saw" by Andrea Wulf.

Here are some pertinent quotes:

"Thoreau was staking out a new purpose: to create a continuous, meticulous, documentary record of his forays. Especially pertinent two centuries after his birth, in an era haunted by inaction on climate change, he worried over a problem that felt personal but was also spiritual and political: how to be a rigorous scientist and a poet, imaginatively connected to the vast web of natural life. Thoreau’s real masterpiece is not Walden but the 2-million-word journal that he kept until six months before he died. Its continuing relevance lies in the vivid spectacle of a man wrestling with tensions that still confound us. The journal illustrates his almost daily balancing act between recording scrupulous observations of nature and expressing sheer joy at the beauty of it all. Romantic predecessors like Samuel Taylor Coleridge and, centuries before that, polymaths like Leonardo da Vinci thrived on the interplay between subjective and objective exploration of the world. For Leonardo, engineering and math infused painting and sculpture; Coleridge said that he attended chemistry lectures to enlarge his 'stock of metaphors.'"

"For Thoreau, along with his fellow Transcendentalists, the by-now familiar dichotomy between the arts and the sciences had begun to hold sway. (The word scientist was coined in 1834, as the sciences were becoming professionalized and specialized.)"

… "Crucial though the data and reports are, they eclipse precisely the sort of immediate, intuitive, sensual experiences of nature that are, in our Anthropocene era, all too rare. For Thoreau, a sense of wonder—of awe toward, but also oneness with, nature—was essential. We will, he understood, protect only what we love."

… "Attention to the pivotal moment when he began to use his journal as he never had before. On November 8, 1850, a year or so after his naturalist’s regimen had begun"… 

…“And this is what truly staggers the mind,” Walls goes on. “From this point, Thoreau did not stop doing this, ever—not until, dying and almost too weak to hold a pen, he crafted one final entry."

."Steeped in the sciences, Thoreau emphasized that orderly data needn’t be dead. Carl Linnaeus’s binomial system for classifying plants was “itself poetry,” and in the early 1850s Thoreau jotted in his journal, “Facts fall from the poetic observer as ripe seeds.”

"Still, Thoreau felt the limits of disciplined scrutiny. 'With all your science can you tell how it is, and whence it is, that light comes into the soul?'"

"The following summer he summed up the dilemma. 'Every poet has trembled on the verge of science."

Good stuff. 

Poetry Unbound

My friend Kalisha tipped me off to this new podcast, Poetry Unbound, which is beautifully produced and digestible in short ten-ish minute podcasts. The first one I listened to was this poem by Raymond Antrobus, "A Poem About When We’re Disbelieved" posted on March 16. This podcast not only asked listeners to complete some homework at the end but made me quite emotional. 

More good stuff. 

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