Earl Gray

Earl Gray
"You can argue with me but, in the end, you'll have to face that fact that you're arguing with a squirrel." - Earl Gray
Showing posts with label Paris Review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paris Review. Show all posts

Thursday, July 23, 2015

Submission Fees

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #69
     "Submission fees are just one discriminating editor removed from the Poetry.com scam."

     That was our reaction when reading fees first appeared.

      For those unfamiliar with the practice, submission (aka "reading") fees are monies paid by contributors for publication consideration.  They differ from contest entrance fees in that publication, not prizes, are the central purpose.  Indeed, folding in a subscription with an entry fee is a laudable way to increase circulation.  As for submission fees, if nothing else, they prove that Nobody Reads Poetry [without being paid to do so].  Would anything be sillier than a glossy like "Readers Digest" or "Golf World" charging its writers instead of paying them?  Actually, yes, there would be:  comparing thriving genres like fiction, general nonfiction or sports reporting to poetry.

Tim Green
      One of the most insightful discussions on this topic was Rattle Editor Timothy Green's¹ "Clowns Against Submission Fees" thread.  He and his supporters make a number of excellent, familiar arguments against reading fees, minus the consideration that it undermines the editors' incentive to seek subscribers.  In the margins, though, the conversation also aired a few thoughts in favor of the policy:

1.  For the individual contributor the cost is inconsequential.  Thanks to the Internet, "a $3 reading fee is less [or little more] than it would cost" for stationery and postage.  Does this token payment not serve the practical purpose of limiting the number of frivolous submissions?

2.  Printing and mailing is costly, requiring that such venues be "externally funded".  If their subscribers are writers rather than strictly readers (tanr), isn't it less like a commercial endeavor and more like a pot luck gathering or friendly poker game where everyone is asked to ante up?  A backer is putting up more than 50% of the total cost, the Greens are doing all of the "grunt work", and these "contributors" balk at ponying up a measly $3?

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #45
3.  Indeed, given that "the average circulation of a print journal is 500 copies, that the average Alexa ranking of an online journal is about 5 million", why not join the 21st century and put out a full-fledged e-zine instead?  Devote the majority of external funds to the staff and writers.  Sell the print versions as subscriptions to Old Schoolers, as collector's items, on Amazon as souvenirs or as performance contest marketing prompts², but concentrate on where the future lies.  Dominate the field.  After all, how many webzines have any significant funding whatsoever?  Yeah, that would be "about none".

4.  No one objects to entry fees, but the only significant difference between a contest and a magazine is that a contest must declare a winner (even if it's the best of a bad lot) whereas, in theory, if a magazine doesn't get enough quality submissions it doesn't have to publish anything.  In light of what is being put out today, though, this is a distinction without a difference.

5.  One final thought:  We are talking about chopping down forests in order to print magazines for a population dominated by tree-huggers (not all of whom are squirrels).  Think about that for a moment.

Coming Soon"Love is a Weakness", Chapter 1



Footnotes:

¹ - As you may know, we here at "Commercial Poetry" have a different mandate, medium and approach to aesthetics and education but when it comes to promotion there is no one we admire more than the Greens, Tim and Meghan. 

² - For example, have a cash prize for whoever makes the best video using a poem in, say, the Summer 2016 edition.  "No purchase necessary!"


Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Substition

From the Urban Dictionary: 

     Substition = "The opposite of a superstition, a substition is the belief in something that is utterly true."

     - Coined by Terry Pratchett in 'Making Money'.



   
Earl the Squirrel's Rule #180
     Progress occurs less often by proving theories correct than by proving them wrong. 

     Every creative person I know has been accused of abandoning projects.  The rest of the world regards them as quitters.  Is this anecdotal?  Stereotypical?  Prejudicial?

     No. 

     It is inevitable. 

     Inventors and writers give up on ideas simply because they have so many of them.  People who accomplish every goal likely don't conceive many.  It's not just that they don't set many;  the ones they do concentrate on and bring to fruition were either someone else's idea or among few inspirations they've had.  They can be like a sterile couple bragging that they've never put a baby up for adoption.

     Some might marvel at a planet that has the precise circumstances we need for survival:  oxygen (including water), air pressure, ray filtering, temperature, gravity, meteor protection, etc.  We might ascribe our existence to coincidence or any number of superstitious causes.  The simple fact is that without these cosmic conditions in place we'd never be here to observe them.  Each of these, and every other known variation of them, is a conditio sine qua non.  Once all of them are in place, creation is inevitable.  Once all of these ducks are in a row the presence of life isn't a miracle;  the conspicuous absence of it could be, though.

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #50
     Superstition involves forsaking the search long before its destination.  People speak of "the god of the gaps", where any unexplainable noumena or phenomena becomes a theological question.  With time, this abdication of reason occurs earlier and earlier in the process.   Societies end up spending more time rationalizing the explication than looking at the problem.  St. Augustine's comment "I no longer dream of the stars" may have set human science back fifteen centuries.  Similar Luddism struck other burgeoning civilizations.  People prefer immediate answers to verifiable ones.

     Substition is the opposite.  It is not necessarily a commitment to the scientific method;  it may simply be I'm-from-Missouri pragmatism and a practical, empirical insistence on pursuing what works.  It is the disappearing ability to watch 50 years of abject failure and infer that maybe--just maybe--we ain't doin' this right.  Substition is the realization that, like everything else, poetry is a knowledge that requires learning and a skill that requires practice.  As blindingly obvious as this sounds, it directly contradicts the prevailing "wisdom" and is an excellent way to lose friends within the "poetry community" itself.

     Currently, almost all of our resources are tied up in creating more writers in the superstitious belief that art is a miracle produced randomly by ten million primates over 100 years.  Lazy pseudo-intellectuals and teen angsters of all ages, each suffering from delusions of interest, dominate the stages and pages.  Not least among the drawbacks to his approach is the fact that we were hoping for a poem or two in our lifetimes.  Flukes do happen but, even at poetry's height, they don't stand the test of time.  Also, by completely ignoring the audience (tina) such that nobody reads poetry, there won't be anyone to recognize any masterpiece if and when it emerges.   

     It seems we're confused the unavoidability of failure with the inevitability of success.

      It's like the parable of the seeds on rocky soil.  After a while, we aren't really planting crops;  we're feeding birds.  It's not like we prepared the ground.  It's not like we taught our children the definition of poetry, the difference between iambs and trochees, the rudiments of performing or even the fact that its all about audiences, not writers or readers.



    Your feedback is appreciated!

    Please take a moment to comment or ask questions below.  Failing that, please mark the post as "funny", "interesting", "silly" or "dull".  Also, feel free to expand this conversation by linking to it on Twitter or Facebook.  Please let us know if you've included us on your blogroll so that we can reciprocate.

    If you would like to follow us, contact us confidentially or blog here as "Gray for a Day" please befriend us, "Earl Gray", on Facebook.

    We look forward to hearing from you.

Signed,

Earl Gray, Esquirrel





Saturday, June 13, 2015

Quantum Poetry - Part II

Revelation versus Revolution

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #177
     In my experience, ordinary poets are introspective¹.  The great ones are curious.  More broadly so, at least.  To wit, an individual who encounters an unfamiliar prosody-related term or concept (e.g. curgina, corata, DATIA) and doesn't look it up lacks the interest and intellectual curiosity to become a noteworthy poet.

     This same dichotomy applies to the scientists I've known.  Most are concerned with their own theories and prospects.  Only the remarkable ones understand how fleeting those things are...and how wonderful that impermanence is.  Mediocre scientists delight in being proven right, legendary ones delight in being proven wrong.  Similarly, people defined by their beliefs will take comfort in going to bed with the same understanding of order they had when they woke up.  A brilliant scientist regards that as a day wasted.  Both revel in their own ignorance.  The difference is that proselytizers hope to increase the range of that ignorance while researchers work to reduce it.

     The rule that Nobody Reads Poetry seems to have one exception...and it isn't poets.  Almost every physics treatise I've read quoted or alluded to a poem and, to my astonishment, some of those were [gasp!] contemporary!  One of my favorite human beings supports this with anecdotal evidence².  Not once but twice³ Oxford undergraduate students [of Stephen Hawkings] contacted my friend regarding  verses he had posted online, promising to "do the math".

     This is hardly the first time verse became hyperthesis.   A conversation between François Marie Arouet de Voltaire (1697-1778) and his mistress, Gabrielle Émilie Le Tonnelier de Breteuil, marquise du Châtelet (a physics student he called "Lady Newton") may have inspired theorizing that led eventually to the discovery of atomic energy.  That story ended with nuclear physicist Robert Oppenheimer quoting verses from the Bhagavad Gita: "Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds."



Ruins, posted by Earl Gray on Vimeo.


Final Thoughts

     Theoretical physics is knowledge in the future tense.  Ultimately, humankind will develop a Unified Theory, allowing us to understand the entire cosmos.  On that bittersweet day physicists will have obsoleted themselves;  as mathematician, World Chess Champion and friend of Albert Einstein Emanuel Lasker said, "the perfection of an endeavor destroys it."  Until then, everything is evolving. 

     Poetry is knowledge in the past tense.  Its science, prosody, involves preserving the words exactly as originally presented.  Forms and fads may come and go but, by definition, a poem is the one thing in the universe that cannot be changed.

Footnotes:

¹ - A euphemism for self-absorbed?

² - We concede that, in the research community, "anecdotal evidence" is an oxymoron.

Han Solo, just chillin'.

³ - The first verse mentioned that "time is motion."  Want to travel forward in time?  Freeze every molecule in your body, like Han Solo in "Star Wars:  The Empire Strikes Back".  When revived you won't be a second older.  Want to travel forward?  Move faster than the speed of light.  When did time begin?  At the Big Bang, when inert "nothingness" exploded into action.

     The second line was "leaves scatter slower than the wind."  This was in a context of objects in the universe expanding at an uneven rate.  Could the slower bodies have existed before our universe and are now being pushed along by newer material, the Big Bang's "shrapnel"?   


Friday, May 8, 2015

Shakespeare's Law

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #106
     Should you learn only one thing here let it be Shakespeare's Law:  "If you don't know how poetry is performed you don't know how it is written."  Those who deal exclusively with poetry in print are missing entire dimensions of the art form:  intonation, tone, pace, etc.

     Suppose you want to improve dramatically as a poet, scholar, critic or editor.  The easiest way to do so is to do the opposite of what you're doing now--if only for a different, wider perspective.  The reasons for performing poetry are as numerous and vital as those for reading poetry.  Next to "Shakespeare's Law", the most important lesson is that friends, relatives, sycophants and, yes, applauding audiences lie to spare our feelings.  The only way to know if we are being ignored or enjoyed is to look the bastards in the eye while performing. 

     Seek out a diverse group.  We learn from the good and bad what works and what doesn't.  This isn't a classroom.  We likely won't have a mentor, per se.  What conclusions we gather come from the expressions and body language of our audience members.  If and when we do capture their rapt attention it's a rush, like multiple orgasms on Ecstasy after winning the lottery.  It's like the Nexus on Star Trek.  Describing it as "addicting" is like calling WWII "a disturbance".

     Newcomers to poetry performance ask the same three questions.  In fact, wondering about these is what delineates serious prospects from The Unteachables².

1.  How long will it take me to become a comfortable, competent presenter without formal training?

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #66
    By "comfortable" we mean able to perform in front of strangers.  It's easy to say "Don't be shy!" but the fact is that many will find this intimidating.  Just bear in mind that, while onstage, you're a persona, not a person, and that many fine actors and actresses are extremely shy in real life.  Indeed, your shyness may work in your favor if it brings the ability to read reactions better than extroverts who come right out and ask for people's opinions.

     Don't worry about making a fool of yourself.  That is inevitable.  A rite of passage.  Every veteran can tell you horror stories³ of their own experiences.  You ask each of them why they continued and you get the same response:  "I don't know, but I'm glad I did."

    By "competent" we mean using the natural speech of a character who is, apparently, making it up on the fly, as opposed to reading, reciting or--heaven forfend!--"poet speaking" prepared text.  Needless to say, performance involves memorizing your work.  As for printed copies, you might keep one in your pocket or, better yet, in the hands of an offstage prompting aide.

    Those who learn to speak normally into a microphone usually do so within a year.  No more unmodulated droning or screaming!

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #93
2.  How long before audiences find my material interesting?

    Many new authors have one good story in them--the one that inspired them to become writers, perhaps--but soon fail to produce compelling follow-up material.  When do new poets learn that journal entries and lectures lose audiences?  When do they rise above the first person singular?  When do they discover humor, tragedy, drama and subtlety?

    For many poets, the answer is "never".  Those who do outgrow rants and navel-gazing tend to do so in their third year of performing.  IMHO, this lesson alone is worth the effort.

3.  How long before my work is considered poetry?

    Forever. 

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #120
    While the success rate of Print Worlders isn't significantly better, none of the verse I've seen onstage warrants scrutiny on the page.  Indeed, the ultimate compliment a listener can pay is to request the text of a poem you just performed.  This I have encountered only once (yet more proof that Nobody Reads Poetry).  That was for a copy of "Studying Savonarola".  Speaking of which, here we have a case of a question precluding answers.  For example, someone asking "Who is the greatest Wide Receiver in NFL history?" isn't posing a query;  they are merely stating a complete lack of interest in football.  There would be no point in trying to explain Jerry Rice to them.  Similarly, critics who complain about the slow, unimaginative beginning to Maz's signature masterpiece are just admitting that they've never been onstage without a script;  the concept of performance value would be as foreign to them as Romulan grammar.  This gap in knowledge and perception is enough to explain anyone's failure as a poet.

    Disregard for the elements of the craft is difficult enough to understand in academia.  Maybe they don't want to raise the bar higher than they can jump.  What is even more astounding is that slammers fly across the country to lose in the National Finals because they couldn't be bothered to read a few articles on technique--something they could do on the plane--that would tilt the balance in their favor.

    Are we so lazy, anti-science and anti-intellectual that we think educating ourselves is an unfair advantage?



Footnotes:

Gustave Flaubert
¹ - "I should rather be skinned alive than exploit my feelings in writing. I refuse to consider Art a drain-pipe for passion, a kind of chamberpot, a slightly more elegant substitute for gossip. No, no! Genuine poetry is not the scum of the heart."

- Gustave Flaubert (1821-1880)

² - Are You Teachable?

     Barring diminished faculties, there are two types who cannot be taught, largely because they are oblivious to physical clues that they are boring us:

1Firebrands

     Activists with less commitment to art than to changing the world with their next sermon to the choir won't be interested in learning.  Or leaving.

2Solipsists

     Narcissists wedded to the notion that all of their random neuron sparks hold cosmic significance will have little interest in filtering them with intelligibility, let alone sense.

     In addition, there are two types who will not be taught:

1Corazoners

     Those who regard poetry as catharsis¹ will flounce out of a slam, muttering something along the lines of:

    "How dare you judge my feelings?!" 

     Few will return until and unless their view matures.

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #175
2Teachers

     Recently, on a high profile blog, a well-known university professor learned some key aspects of prosody that changed her perspective forever.  Unfortunately, it also changed her employment status, along with the venue's approach to open commentary.  The lesson could not be more clear:  educators educating themselves in public does not enhance their academic portfolios.  Not surprisingly, academia's view of slam and open mic events is jaundiced.  The deleterious effect of this prejudice is evident in every line of poetry presented by institutional publications.

     I realize this advice will find little fertile ground but if you have any interest in poetry grab a disguise, think up a clever pseudonym, and get your ass down to the nearest slam post-haste.  Trust me.

³ - Before heading out to my first open mic my mentor reminded me to breathe.  I thought it was odd advice--I have an autonomic nervous system for that, you know--until, you guessed it, I ended up pulling a Clinton, failing to inhale.  Think of a boated trout here.

     Things were worse on my third outing.  I blanked.  After the most awkward 15 seconds of my life I cheated, reaching into my back pocket to retrieve a hard copy.  I read the next section, shook my head and said:  "I can't believe I wrote such crap.  No wonder I forgot it."  The crowd laughed, I skipped that section and lived to chuckle about it later.



    Your feedback is appreciated!

    Please take a moment to comment or ask questions below.  Failing that, please mark the post as "funny", "interesting", "silly" or "dull".  Also, feel free to expand this conversation by linking to it on Twitter or Facebook.  Please let us know if you've included us on your blogroll so that we can reciprocate.

    If you would like to follow us, contact us confidentially or blog here as "Gray for a Day" please befriend us, "Earl Gray", on Facebook.

    We look forward to hearing from you.

Signed,

Earl Gray, Esquirrel



Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Postmodernism

postmodernism - noun (originated 1970-1975)

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #168
1.  any of a number of trends or movements in the arts and literature developing in the 1970s in reaction to or rejection of the dogma, principles, or practices of established modernism, especially a movement in architecture and the decorative arts running counter to the practice and influence of the International Style and encouraging the use of elements from historical vernacular styles and often playful illusion, decoration, and complexity.




    This dictionary definition of postmodernism, if applied to poetry, is closer to that of hypermodernism.  Postmodernism is hardly historical;  given the lack of prosody, we might argue that it is prehistorical.  It is far from playful or decorative.  As for complexity, it may be difficult to interpret but writing it is child's play.  In fact, "postmodern poetry" is an oxymoron.  While prose is poetry's direct opposite--both being forms of communication--postmodernism's inaccessibility makes it the antipodal inverse of verse.  Even when coherent, it usually fails not only as poetry but as prose, too.  For example, consider this text:

Nostalgia is a prettier season.  Leaves
fall on the river and a few are the color of wine.


    Any competent author or poet would drop the clumsy conjunction, breaking the last sentence into two punchy ones:

Leaves fall on | the river.  | A few are | the color | of wine.

    ...if only to sustain the amphibrachs until the catalectic ending.

    For the most part, "postmodern" is a euphemism for "cryptocrap".  It is written by people who don't seem to comprehend that, while readers might return to a piece to develop a second understanding, they won't do so for a first understanding.   

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #163
Cryptocrap

    Is there such a thing as good cryptocrap?  Paradoxically, yes, there is.  Anything indeciperable and devoid of technique meets the minimum qualifications.  To test it, employ a modified version of Poetry Ripcord:  Read a postmodern volume for as long as you can, then mark the poem and floor where you throw the book down, shouting "Can you imagine not knowing the difference between that and poetry?"  The longer the read and shorter the toss, the better the work. 

    For a less cynical, more sympathetic view of postmodern writing we must begin with its purpose.  Obviously, such stuff is not designed for a reader (tinr), let alone a listener (tinl).  Nor is it designed to be memorable, as actual poetry is.  (Seriously, if you wrote such amphigouri would you want people to remember it?) 

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #67
    One of many reasons why postmodern pieces are never memorized, aside from the fact that they are so forgettable, is that they have Negative (as in less than zero) Performance Value.  Do not take my word for this.  You need to stand in front of people and look them in the eye while you recite this nonsense.  The awkwardness and embarrassment, extending to author, performer and
audience, has to be experienced first hand.  This may be the most important lesson an aspiring verser learns.

    N.B.:  We're talking about an [anti-]aesthetic created more than a generation after poetry died.  While the rest of us poets are, essentially, trying to breed dodo birds--something that did exist at one time--postmodernists add a level of absurdism, attempting to produce dodos by mating  pteradactyls with dragons.

    "Why," you might ask, "would anyone want to write something that doesn't have a market and never did?"

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #73
    The answer is an astonishingly elegant solution to an impossible problem:  these academics are hoping to find employment as teachers--as scorekeepers--without interfering with contemporary poets fighting to create an audience as players.  Among other things, this explains why postmodernistic lineations are distributed almost exclusively by institutional publications.

    How does a prospective employer judge a postmodernist's body of work?  This, too, is disarmingly simple but brilliant.  A postmodern piece reads like a "killer and filler" poem minus all of the prosodic elements and coherence that distinguishes "filler" verses from psychotic prattle.  The idea is to startle students (only such a captive audience will expose themselves to this flotsam) with phrases that cause them to stop and say:  "Hey, that might be interesting if it made sense!"  Thus, while metrists may count tempi, alliterations, syllables, beats or feet, the unit of measurement for postmodernists is the "WTF?"  Dividing these by the total number of words gives us the WTF Density--as objective and useful a yardstick as we'll find in art.  Indeed, using that indicator we can determine who, among the living postmodernists, is #1.

Karen Solie
    The one writer who best combines the cryptic (i.e. a high WTF Density) with the crappy (i.e. no rhythms, no proximate or patterned repetitions, no prosody) is not Geoffrey Hill or Jorie Graham but Karen Solie.  Take that poem we excerpted earlier:

Cross a friend's threshold and aging passes
like an unkind word between you.
Nostalgia is a prettier season.  Leaves
fall on the river and a few are the color of wine.

   - Karen Solie (Short Haul Engine p22)

    Three startles.  31 words.  That is an impressive .097 WTF Density rating (aka "Startle Index").  It would be higher still if she weren't so wordy but concision, being a legitimate aspect of actual poetry, would be cheating.  For example, this whole mess:

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #2
When you substitute his name
for love it is to hold him
in your mouth awhile
dissolving like a pill.

   - Karen Solie (Short Haul Engine p27)

    ...could be more succinctly expressed--in common meter, no less--by dropping that substitute-name-love soap opera, leaving the more powerful:

Hold his name inside your mouth,
dissolving like a pill.

     Ms. Solie has mastered the basic tools of postmodernism:  bizarre similes, confusing metaphors, Rule #2, and copious "barnacling" (i.e. random word choices that could be replaced by some version of the word "barnacle" without losing sense):

A sideboard proclaiming itself free at the curbside is a Trojan horse.

A barnacle proclaiming itself free at the curbside is a Trojan horse.
A sideboard barnacling itself free at the curbside is a Trojan horse.
A sideboard proclaiming itself free at the curbside is a barnacle.

    As it happens, Karen Solie is featured in this month's edition of Poetry magazine.  Another coincidence is that the best living verser and best postmodernist are both women originally from some desolate dustbin called "Saskatchewan". 

    We here at Commercial Poetry don't generally recommend volumes other than Maz's "Grasshopper".  Beginning with her first book, "Short Haul Engine", Karen Solie's collections are invaluable as inspirational workbooks.  One can open them to any page, read a few paragraphs and wonder "How might a poet have written this?"  Perhaps this is how it should be marketed.  (A similar resource is Walter Bargen's "Remedies for Vertigo", which serves as an encyclopedia of interesting lines.)

    Karen Solie might never turn her hand to actual poems--you know, those things we absorb through the osmosis of mnemonics and performance--but if you're jonesing for some inexplicable prose with equally inexplicable linebreaks, she's your source.



    Your feedback is appreciated!

    Please take a moment to comment or ask questions below or, failing that, mark the post as "funny", "interesting", "silly" or "dull".  Also, feel free to expand this conversation by linking to it on Twitter or Facebook.  Please let us know if you've included us on your blogroll so that we can reciprocate.

    If you would like to follow us, contact us confidentially or blog here as "Gray for a Day" please befriend us, "Earl Gray", on Facebook.

    We look forward to hearing from you.

Signed,

Earl Gray, Esquirrel




Friday, April 17, 2015

Synecdochical Fallacy

Gustave Flaubert
     "I should rather be skinned alive than exploit my feelings in writing. I refuse to consider Art a drain-pipe for passion, a kind of chamberpot, a slightly more elegant substitute for gossip. No, no! Genuine poetry is not the scum of the heart."

- Gustave Flaubert (1821-1880)

     "News flash: poets don't have deeper or finer feelings than anyone else, they don't have more insight into personal relationships, they don't understand the cosmos better than ordinary people; they're not philosophers.  They just have a gift for writing."

 - Diana Manister, "The Critical Poet", 2008-06-29




Earl the Squirrel's Rule #151

     Poetry is a mode of speech.

     Sadly, there is a tendency among many to act like those six blind men trying to conceptualize an elephant based on the part they are examining.  Such tunnel vision causes the classic synecdochical fallacy, confusing the subset (i.e. genre) with the whole (i.e. poetry).

     That poetry is a mode of speech is not an opinion, a belief, a guess or an aesthetic statement.  It is an incontrovertible fact.  It is the most basic truth about verse--even more fundamental than its definition as verbatim speech.  Failure to understand this leads inevitably to polemics, provincialism, pseudo-intellectualism and Content Regency.

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #52
     As a mode of speech, verse can be used to express any topic, genre or viewpoint.  It follows that poetry is not¹ "the scum of the heart."  Not all [great] poems are gushers like "Sonnets from the Portuguese 43" or "Do not go gentle into that good night". 

     Contrary to Lewis Turco's peculiar ideolect, poetry is not a genre simply because it has no single "form, content, technique, or the like."  Poems can be fictional, non-fictional, romantic, tragic, comedic, dramatic, or any other topical category.  They may have form or not.  Ditto meter, which we can surmise is a fairly recent addition by asking ourselves how primitive societies could quantify or measure something² until after it existed.

     Poetry is not¹ cryptic (no definitive meaning), vacuous (no significant meaning), obvious (one inescapable meaning) or ambiguous (two or more clear meanings).  Not all [great] poems are multifaceted gems like "The Red Wheelbarrow", amphigouri like "Jabberwocky", dualities such as "Beans" or unidimensional perspectives like "Dulce et Decorum Est".

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #12
     Poetry is not¹ profound writing.  Those who swallowed this myth need to read better prose.  Let me suggest they start with novelists Carol Shields and Timothy Findley before moving on to various philosophers. 

     Poetry is neither¹ humorous nor humorless.  Paradoxically, in the case of the "Tay Bridge Disaster", it can be both at the same time.

     Poetry is not¹ art.  It can be and sometimes is but, as a mode of speech, it can be put to any purpose, from selling toothpaste to relaying the WORD OF GOD in holy verses.  If you forget this you may end up having to argue that "Thirty days hath September, April, June and November" is prose rather than poetry--those being the only two options.

     Poetry can be any damned thing it wants to be.

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #62
     Avoid embarrassment.  Repeat "Poetry is a mode of speech" like the truism that it is.  Repeat it like a mantra, a catchphrase or a spell to ward off the most ghastly of aesthetic afflictions, Convenient Poetics.

    "Poetry is a mode of speech.

    "Poetry is a mode of speech.

    "Poetry is a mode of speech."

    "Poetry is a mode of speech."

    "Poetry is a mode of speech."



Footnotes:

¹ - Not exclusively, at least.  It's like saying "Humans eat gummy bears."  Some do, but until all of us do the assertion, if intended as definitional, is an overstatement and therefore incorrect.

² - e.g. tempi, alliterations, assonances and--much later and only in accented languages--stresses.  All [metrical] verse is poetry but not all poetry is metered;  thus, everyone other than Mr. Turco understands which is the superset and which is the subset.





Saturday, March 14, 2015

Challenge

    If there were no fans or players, such that the scorekeepers and coaches had to take the field, would you call that endeavor thriving, like film or football, or dead, like tiddly-winks and Ollamaliztli?



From "Introduction to Poetry" by Billy Collins¹

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope  
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose  
to find out what it really means.




Earl the Squirrel's Rule #164
    Obviously, whatever we teachers, critics, geeks, editors, performers, and poets are doing has not been working for more than two generations.  Let's start with our educational system.  Its mandate was to preserve and support the great poetry of the past, present and future.  Our English departments have abdicated the latter two responsibilities.  Prosody, which is the measurement we employ to judge technical merit, is no longer taught as a matter of course.  Worse yet, we have abandoned the search for readers (tanr) to such an extent that only writers are hired to teach poetry.

     With the benefit of hindsight we know that no generation has produced more than a handful of authors whose work deserves study.  With so many positions and so few such worthy candidates, we have chosen as mentors mediocre poets instead of expert readers, critics, prosodists and analysts.

     Despite being found almost nowhere else, cryptocrap is currently among the two dominant genres in academia² for a pair of reasons:  it's crypto and it's crap.


Crypto

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #2
    Imagine giving a college class on, say, "Do not go gentle into that good night".  For context, you might begin with a short bio of the author, Dylan Thomas, and some background about the terms (e.g. "gay", meaning "happy" will draw giggles) and times (1951).  You recite the poem.  Does the class have any questions?  No.  Perhaps you use the poem to describe its form, the villanelle.  Questions?  Still none.  If you've done your homework and researched some of the available analysis you can talk about that.  When you're done, you check the clock your watch your laptop and discover, to your horror, that only 25 minutes have transpired!  What will you do for the remainder of your 1-hour class?

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #92
     If you had chosen a postmodern poem you and your students could waste days, even weeks, guessing at the meaning of the poem--not its motif, technique, ramifications, significance or nuances, mind you, but it's actual surface meaning (if any).  Selecting a great poem like "Do not go gentle into that good night" was a mistake you won't repeat.  In the future you will ignore accessible poets such as Frost, Byron and the Brownings in favor of classical ones that let you kill time translating Elizabethan³ or earlier language into today's English...or go with contemporary cryptocrap.

     In essence, the "poem" becomes a Rorschach test and the class becomes a group therapy session.  Other than validating Law #92 and wiling away class time, what does this accomplish and what does it have to do with poetry?  No one knows.

Crap

     While their meaning mustn't be accessible, the poems themselves must be readily available and in endless quantity, such that if you need a poem about a 19th Century Outer Mongolian hemp farmer you can easily find or generate one.  The recipe is easy to follow.  The whole idea of crap is to lower the bar until enough college students say "Hell, even I can do better than that!" and register for class.  Keeping up this vanity trap works perfectly as long as Nobody Reads Poetry.  Once people are exposed to better contemporary poets and verse, such that they can pass simple tests like this one, the jig is up.

     Suppose every poem published and taught today were as good as this one.  Why, you'd never stop singing "What a Wonderful World", right?

     Hardly.  Verse is already dead on the demand side;   this could kill it on the production side as well.  We would have The Watermelon Problem on a pandemic scale.  Publications would close down because their product couldn't compete.  Whole faculties would disappear from universities because students would be discouraged and might wonder what could be learned from anyone who fails to distinguish this dreck from, of all things, poetry.  In a worst case scenario [sophisticated elements of] the public could take an interest in poetry.  That is the very thing cryptocrap seeks to avoid.

A Challenge

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #12
     The best way to uncover an addiction is to quit--even temporarily.  A few DT shakes should be enough to convince us that we really are alcoholics.  Thus, I encourage every institutional publication to reserve one edition for non-academics.  This exercise will raise awareness of the 98+% of poets from outside the Ivory Towers.  If nothing else, this will serve as a foil for what is normally published.  At the very least, it should generate controversy.

     Meanwhile, I challenge independent venues to put out a "Best of..." list of poems online, similar to this one.  By "Best of..." I don't mean "My favorite..." or "Our Best...". I mean poems that discerning readers (tanr) might enjoy based largely on objective technical merit, regardless of source [as via a URL].  It would be fascinating to compare these lists to what academic periodicals produce.



Footnotes:

¹ - Yes, we're quoting Billy Collins, including the completely redundant finale where, ironically, he beats us over the head with the moral--you know, in case we missed it being spelled out in the preceding strophe paragraph.

² - After confessional (aka "email from rehab"), of course.

³ - Shakespeare's plays may seem difficult to us in this century but his livelihood depended on illiterates in the pits understanding what was said.  It was the farthest thing from cryptology.  It observed Law #12 as distinguished from Law #2, which forms the credo of most academic writing.



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Earl Gray, Esquirrel




Friday, March 6, 2015

Independent Poetry

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #141
     In every aspect possible, independent (aka "private" or "Labor of Love"/"LoL") publications are the polar opposite of "institutional poetry" publishers.  It begins at the top, where independents tend to be privately owned and operated.  Think "Mom 'n Pop" versus Walmart.  Decisions are made by individuals without regard to oversight committees.  Because Nobody Reads Poetry, independents serve those who write poetry, as opposed to those who teach it.  At this time, a publication credit from an independent, no matter how good, will rarely make a strong addition to one's resumé.

Watermelon Convergence

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #157
     Few Labor of Love editors have any experience with or understanding of The Watermelon Problem.

    "Why," they wonder, "would any editor put a cap on quality?"

     If handed one of the great poems of our time they would do cartwheels and then publish it.  WTP?  Why overthink this?

     Different crowds.  Different goals. 

     In terms of quality, poems in academic periodicals coalesce perilously close to the Billy Collins level.  Those in private publications usually range all the way from Maz down to Amiri Baraka wannabes.  This "hit or miss" tendency is part of their charm.

     The danger in any one-person-band is that all the songs will end up sounding the same.  Similarly, independents worry about convergence, not watermelons.  There is the risk that, over time, people will do exactly what the venue's guidelines insist:  they will read what is published there and submit more of same.  One aesthetic fits all!  If the editor falls into such a rut there will be no reason for subscribers to read a second poem.  That is one less reason for them to be subscribers in the first place.  What distinguishes even the most successful independents is how they deal with convergence.

Four Noteworthy Editors

Timothy Green
4.  "Rattle" editor Timothy Green runs an NFL Fantasy Football league for poets.  Not impressed?  Well, how many versers do you have to meet before you find 14 who don't giggle at the mention of "Tight Ends"?  How many of us are acquainted with 14 poets who might know that William Shakespeare¹ played halfback for the Notre Dame Fighting Irish under the personal monicker "The Merchant of Menace"?  (I'm not making this stuff up.)  Obviously, Tim is one of the most charismatic and friendly editors in poetry.  Along with his wife, Megan, he has made "Rattle" the most recognized independent around, due in part to his masterful use of social media.  In terms of inspiring poetry production he stands without equal.

     Most people assume that poetry editors study the craft and engage in critical discussions.  In truth, very few have any interest in matters technical and many are downright hostile to critique.  One prominent institutional publisher won't accept any poems that have been offered up for informed, objective online critique.  Many private publishers feel the same way.  This lack of sophistication--especially in the original sense of the word--shows in the final product.  Quaint narratives with linebreaks might be more interesting than thinly veiled philosophy lectures but can make a publication seem like the Readers Digest with narrowed margins.

John Amen
3.  Independent verse tends to be more fancentric and may even have [gasp!] stage value.  For example, "The Pedestal", one of the few Labors of Love that pays its poets ($20?), is put out by John Amen, an occasional participant in open mics and slams. This makes the poems he chooses slightly less prose-like than most of his competitors'.

     Previously, at least, John would employ guest editors, thus staving off the threat of convergence while adding an element of unpredictability to his periodical.   By widening the perspective, John or one of the temporary editors will occasionally find a gem.  Thus, while nowhere near as consistent, the average poem in "The Pedestal" edges out its counterpart in "Rattle".

     The question arises:  "Why have 'The Pedestal' or 'Rattle' not made the quantum leap into the top two?"


     Unlike some of his guest editors, John hasn't raised his profile among the best² poets and in places where rising stars can be found.  The old model of an arbiter passively waiting for good stuff to arrive over the transom is long gone.  The key to producing a first rate 'zine--even on a $0 budget--is no more complicated than knowing where to find stellar sources.  Having done so, you hope the best writers will send you their better works, lest you suffer the fate of the New Yorker. 

Christine Klocek-Lim
2.   Private venues tend to be more form-friendly and inventive, with no reservations about including a curgina, corata, DATIA, cada línea, reverser, multimedia or cliché collage.  While institutionals present [allusive] hypertext in the figurative sense, indies might do so literally, as in "Elegy for Eva", published in Autumn Sky Poetry #12.  By contrast, in academia "experimental" means "incoherent".

    Inclusion in the list of "The Ten Most Influential People in Poetry Today" does Christine Klocek-Lim scant justice in general, let alone as the owner-operator of "Autumn Sky Poetry" and, most recently, "Autumn Sky Poetry Daily".  She is everything you'd expect but don't get in other editors.  She is intelligent, gracious, tactful and trusted.  Her two tours as administrator of the Poets.org critical forum established her geek credentials.  (As a SciFi fan and writer, she is also a nerd.  Christine is among the very few poets who can recite the Ferenghi Rules of Acquisition as easily as our Laws of Poetry.)  She may be the one person in poetry who is cherished and revered as much as Maz.  Her "Autumn Sky Poetry" was the most consistently good and diverse source of poetry in the world.  Her unique approach involved going beyond the biggies (i.e. Eratosphere, Gazebo or Poetry Free-For-All) and into the "friendlies".  It seems that every aspiring unknown on the planet took performance enhancing drugs in order to create their career best poem and submit it to Ms. Klocek-Lim. 

     The problem is that the brighter lights weren't as forthcoming.  This was an awkward situation.  To those who adore her, the merest whim from Christine was like a command from on high.  Seeing this, she became the least demanding person on the planet.  On occasions when we could inquire of her talented friends why they failed to contribute more often we always received the same reply:  "She didn't ask." 

Michael Burch
1.   Michael Burch asked.  He approached people collectively on sites like Eratosphere and privately.  He did features, including the poet's best work regardless of whether it had been published or not.  In short order, "The Hypertexts" became a "Who's Who" of skilled poets and the single best source of contemporary poetry in the world.

     He managed this despite being Ms. Klocek-Lim's mirror opposite.  His lack of interest in technique accounts for the clunkers on his site.  His political and religious stridency is alienating and continues to cost him goodwill and attention.  Nevertheless, he usually heeds aesthetic advice from reliable sources, thus benefitting from bird-dogging and referrals.

Solicitation

     Reflecting their focus on poets rather than poems, institutional and literary³ venues often request poems or articles from well-known poetry teachers, including some current contributors.  Such celebrities are usually listed in an "About [Us]" section, along with one or two glaringly
godawful gargoyles (one of whom managed to parlay a BA into a 5-year stint as a university professor emeritus) to "represent" the non-academic world.  The honored instructors spark interest among colleagues, alumni, and students on a school-by-school (literally or aesthetically) basis.

     It is like college football, complete with cheerleaders.

      Independents tend not to have such pantheons.  Why?  It's not like poets don't have heroes and heroines among their peers and predecessors. 

     Soliciting poems from established authors is controversial because those who submit through normal channels, expecting work to be judged solely on intrinsic merit, view celebrities as jumping the queue.  This conflicts with the editor's need to produce exemplary verse.  The solution is to do so discreetly and either at startup, to make a splash, or when the quality of submissions has dipped below acceptability.  Posting a list of people whose work the editor will favor would be counterproductive, if not suicidal.  Thus, the practice that encourages participation in academia discourages it elsewhere.

     Becoming the world's best poetry editor seems straightforward enough.  Learn to use social media as well as Tim Green, familiarize yourself with performance and pinch-hitters as John Amen has, approach experts individually as Michael Burch does and do everything else like Christine Klocek-Lim.



Footnotes:

¹ - He claimed to be a direct descendant of the Bard before and after failing sophomore English.  When the Pittsburgh Steelers took him in 1936 he became the third person ever drafted in the NFL.

² - Not the best known.  The best.

³ - Literary magazines, which include prose and poetry, are often constituted like independents (i.e. with specific owners rather than committees) but they tend to act like institutionals, their poetry (if not their prose) efforts serving only the academic community. 



Links:

1. Institutional Poetry

2.Independent Poetry