Blogger Nic Sebastian writes: "Poets, do you promote poetry-not-your-own?
"Amy King asked this question on Twitter. She has just finished a marathon tweeting session on behalf of the Academy of American Poets, in which she spent many hours asking questions, promoting poets, poetry, poetry presses and poetry initiatives."
Do I promote poetry other than my own? Were I a human I would answer "yes" without thought or hesitation. After all, in addition to this blog I write critique, reviews and articles ranging from the anecdotal to the technical. I am the only one at our local open mic who has ever performed a contemporary poem authored by someone else. True, I've never blurbed but for certain poems, collections and poets I've been an unabashed cheerleader in everything other than uniform.
For better or worse, though, I'm a squirrel. Hungry hawks hovering overhead have taught us Grays to be circumspect. Let's look twice before we cross this street. Do I promote poetry other than my own? Note, as Nic did, that we aren't talking about specific poets, poems, presses or initiatives. We're talking about poetry in toto. Thus, the "not-your-own" that is central to Nic's discussion is more or less redundant in ours.
So, do I promote poetry?
Doesn't the word "promote" suggest that you are trying to expand beyond current participant levels? Doesn't "promote" suggest bringing new blood into the arena? Doesn't "promote" imply more than energizing the troops and preaching to the converted? If Wallmart has a promotion shouldn't it be aimed at more than their staff and existing customers? How about an enterprise that doesn't have customers yet? Would it make any sense if their promotions were targeted strictly at their employees?
So, do I promote poetry?
Do I really need to specify poetry consumption? With the current rate of overproduction?
So, do I promote poetry?
No. I may try but I'm just a squirrel chirping into the blathersphere.
Does anyone promote poetry these days?
Not effectively. Not in North America, at least. As with any guild, the League of Canadian Poets does a fairly good job of promoting poets to those with a modicum of interest. If anyone needs a demonstration of the difference between highlighting poets and poetry they need only watch the "Heart of a Poet" series. Blurber host Andrea Thompson does her best introducing the poets but, with a few exceptions, the poetry samples on display are bad.
How bad? Groundhog Day bad: if the public were watching we could expect six more decades of oblivion. As for attention to potential readers, never has disregard been so palpable.
Despite Christian Wiman's good intentions, the Poetry Foundation's focus is on a tiny fringe element of contemporary poetry. Both Wiman and the organization bear the scars of a losing battle against Content Regents shilling anti-aestheticism. The $200,000,000 Ruth Lilly grant insulates them against the public's concerns. The Poetry Foundation's one outreach is a remarkable idea: Poetry Out Loud, a contest to make videos of classic poem recitations. Unfortunately, their silent war with the pre-existing online community prevented them from enlisting aid, causing that initiative to suffer as the interactive Harriet blog did.
In many ways, the Academy of American Poets is the mirror image of the Poetry Foundation. With their learning resources and workshop, Poets.org is not held hostage to Content Regents. Unfortunately, their Poem-A-Day intiative suffers from inflexibility. Instead of a hodge-podge that pleases no one they could consider individual genres (e.g. Check one or more of: metrical, non-metrical, traditional, modern, contemporary, literary, popular, romance, drama, comedy, et cetera). If nothing else, the statistics might prove interesting.
To my knowledge, not one of these organizations polls the public for its opinion on defining issues. All are more interested in dictating taste than catering to it. Do we really need a degree in marketing strategy to spot the flaw here? Is it any wonder that there is no public outrage when government funding for the arts in general and poetry in particular is cut?
"Most people ignore most poetry because most poetry ignores most people."
- Adrian Mitchell
Coming Soon: Time for some good news
Want to be Earl Gray for a Day? Email your tongue-in-cheek rant to earlthesquirrelpoetry@gmail.com . Feel free to use simple HTML tags as necessary.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
EtSLoP: Earl the Squirrel's Laws of Poetry
Please do not confuse this list with unofficial versions by Dennis Hammes or Peter John Ross.
Earl Gray's Rules Of Poetry from Earl Gray on Vimeo.
The other videos are: Part I, Part II and Part III. Here is the complete text listing for #1 to 181:
Click here for the pictorial slide show version of Earl Gray's Rules of poetry.
These rules have been provided here as a public service with apologies for stating the obvious.
No need to thank me.
Signed,
Earl Gray, Esquirrel
Earl Gray's Rules Of Poetry from Earl Gray on Vimeo.
The other videos are: Part I, Part II and Part III. Here is the complete text listing for #1 to 181:
Cut off the last line! This will make your poem better! (If this doesn't work, keep cutting off the last line.) |
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"If you don't think your poetry is competing against the works of others you're probably right." |
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Triteness is a minor flaw, easily remedied (should nothing else occur to you) by adding a mysterious reference to a goat in the last line. |
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Poetry's only selling point is that it is cheaper than tear gas. |
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Never compare a poet's work to Ferlinghetti's unless you're a better shot than target. |
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Any poetry reading longer than 20 minutes is a hostage situation. |
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Poetry details the unspeakable obvious. |
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Intelligence is the difference between planting and burying. |
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Two is a contrast. Three is a trend. |
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Good poetry haunts the reader. |
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Poetry is about how you say it. Diplomacy is about how you avoid saying it. | |
Now it has constituencies. | |
A poem contains a thousand pictures. | |
They are coroners and accountants. | |
(Pearl's Paradox) | |
Practice makes permanent. | |
Now it's the opposite. | |
Good actors pause for thought. | |
never a worse time to be a good one. | |
usually believe in poetry without poetry. | |
amounted to an argument that the thing in front of you is, in fact, a car? | |
Great poetry is unforgettable. | |
a poem has already failed. | |
it isn't. | |
Experienced poets don't want one. | |
than the critique you receive. | |
the exclusivity of the one with three. | |
Theirs certainly don't. | |
People reread poetry because they remember them. | |
then no one is in for a pound. | |
be infamous. | |
We can't sell crap by a lazy ignoramus. | |
"Being bad includes not knowing you're bad." | |
It is pretension itself. | |
Ask if and why it will be remembered. | |
"How can we tell where the disingenuity ends and the stupidity begins?" | |
We can't work with the clueproof. (Be teachable.) | |
The question isn't: "Have I seen this before?" The question is: "Do I want to see this again?" | |
"If you don't know how poetry is performed you don't know how it is written." | |
only tools and fools. | |
Sadly, others have better taste. | |
it will need more heir conditioning. | |
you need to go first. | |
than the need to deny it. | |
Now it is religion. | |
and they don't read what we call "poetry". | |
[When performing...] Tell, don't show. | |
It's what others remember hearing. | |
to sell scripts in a civilization without theaters. (Pssst! You have to build the theaters first.) | |
Learning breeds curiosity. And vice versa. | |
not a cause, not an affect. | |
than fools from fact. | |
It's about saying something originally. | |
just slightly less stupid than everyone else. | |
Rule #1: Don't. (Instead, listen to it.) | |
is that we should be listening to poetry. | |
as too much sunlight has on vampires. | |
It's an oxymoron. | |
- Michael Lind | |
- Pearl Gray | |
- Michael Lind | |
Poetry is timeless. | |
It isn't just prose you agree with. | |
The number of poetry publications read is lower than the number sold. | |
Poetry has a lot of those." | |
a nearby printing press and a corrupt janitor." | |
not just silly. | |
be accessible without being accessible." | |
then you will be their last. | |
depends on how the author uses it, not on the manner in which it's phrased." - John Boddie (on Gazebo) | |
Poetry is about everything. | |
is the notion that this is poetry being alive. | |
Not bitter. | |
Bad verses. | |
Those who perform cannot write; those who write cannot perform; those who learn cannot teach; and, those who teach cannot learn. | |
it's not. - Pearl's Paradox #2 | |
- Pearl's Paradox #3 | |
don't conceive many. | |
"'Pandering'? WTF do you think I was doing?" | |
- Pearl's Paradox #4 |
Earl the Squirrel's Rule #0 |
Click here for the pictorial slide show version of Earl Gray's Rules of poetry.
These rules have been provided here as a public service with apologies for stating the obvious.
No need to thank me.
Signed,
Earl Gray, Esquirrel
Monday, April 18, 2011
Who Killed Poetry?
This mystery survived for almost a century after the crime. Forensics determined that the fatal blow was struck in the 1920s, the patient lingering for a while afterwards. Suspects and speculations were legion. My favorite crackpot theory is that bridge was to blame. You know, the card game. It's not quite as outlandish as you may think. The timing is right: bridge was invented in the late 1920s. The demographics are right: bridge supplanted poetry as a social medium for young sophisticates before the 1970s and is still the favored diversion of retirees. Perhaps most importantly, bridge became the venue for celebrities including, among many others, John Wayne and Omar Sharif 30-40 years ago, Bill Gates and Alan Alda today. By contrast, poets didn't tend to be as photogenic or refined. In the 1980s I suppose you could, with some effort, dress up Charles Bukowski and Alan Ginsberg but you certainly couldn't take them anywhere.
The prime suspect had always been Modernism in general, non-metrical poetry in particular. This theory fails for a simple reason: the suspect wasn't within a continent of the crime scene. Indeed, the two are not even in the same dimension. Before giving up entirely, trade magazines and newspapers published almost exclusively popular verse. Free verse and prose poetry are and were largely limited to literary magazines. Poetry's death scene was far more public than that. Thus, when we say "poetry is dead" we really mean "commercial poetry is dead" or, if you prefer, "'popular poetry' is an oxymoron". Academic poetry is doing just fine, thanks to the largesse of taxpayers and, occasionally, patrons.
Question: If John Q. Jones pumps a dozen bullets into someone and, much later, an attending doctor removes life support, who killed the victim?
Today, we will finally unmask the gunman, whose identity will surprise many. We will reveal his motive as being, essentially, what we now call "identity theft". We begin, though, by unveiling the physician who put the patient out of its misery by removing the lifeline.
Ah, the lifeline. That was the clue. There are so few people who were alive when poetry mattered that our CSI team was forced to rely on historical accounts. Our investigation indicates that poetry's lifeline--its lifeblood--was the free and open exchange of verse among those who loved it. This knowledge led to us to the physician.
The doctor was born in Berne, Switzerland, in 1886, and graduated on July 1, 1909. Starting on January 1st, 1923, as a precaution against possible pandemics, this physician initiated a worldwide quarantine, preventing the free proliferation of poetry. This isolation, which was intended to protect poetry, cut it off from its life source. Worse yet, because poetry could not breed in captivity, it perished without issue.
Discovering the role of Copyright Law didn't bring us much closer to the shooter, though. Who and where was the mysterious Mr. John Q. Jones?
"Follow the money."
Who profited from this unspeakable crime?
Our historical research proved that before WWI people could recite dozens of recent poems but could sing along to only a few contemporary songs. Why? Convenience. Poems appearing in magazines and newspapers might be heard in bars or parlors later that same day. Songs required either a touring band or the purchase of sheet music and considerable practice. One rarely heard the same song more than once a week.
Radio reversed this, starting in the early 1920s. With the drop of a needle listeners from L.A. to New York could hear the same song. If a hit, they'd hear it again and again. Immediately, the poetry/songs ratio reversed. Today, the average individual can recite the words to thousands of contemporary songs but nary a single contemporary poem.
Indeed, the complete disappearance of poetry has given rise to conspiracy theories, speculating that poetry staged its own death, had a makeover and is living on in lyrics.
Songwriters who have profited from poetry's demise or metamorphosis don't deny this.
Do you, Mr. Jones?
Coming Soon: Time for some good news
The prime suspect had always been Modernism in general, non-metrical poetry in particular. This theory fails for a simple reason: the suspect wasn't within a continent of the crime scene. Indeed, the two are not even in the same dimension. Before giving up entirely, trade magazines and newspapers published almost exclusively popular verse. Free verse and prose poetry are and were largely limited to literary magazines. Poetry's death scene was far more public than that. Thus, when we say "poetry is dead" we really mean "commercial poetry is dead" or, if you prefer, "'popular poetry' is an oxymoron". Academic poetry is doing just fine, thanks to the largesse of taxpayers and, occasionally, patrons.
Question: If John Q. Jones pumps a dozen bullets into someone and, much later, an attending doctor removes life support, who killed the victim?
Today, we will finally unmask the gunman, whose identity will surprise many. We will reveal his motive as being, essentially, what we now call "identity theft". We begin, though, by unveiling the physician who put the patient out of its misery by removing the lifeline.
Ah, the lifeline. That was the clue. There are so few people who were alive when poetry mattered that our CSI team was forced to rely on historical accounts. Our investigation indicates that poetry's lifeline--its lifeblood--was the free and open exchange of verse among those who loved it. This knowledge led to us to the physician.
The doctor was born in Berne, Switzerland, in 1886, and graduated on July 1, 1909. Starting on January 1st, 1923, as a precaution against possible pandemics, this physician initiated a worldwide quarantine, preventing the free proliferation of poetry. This isolation, which was intended to protect poetry, cut it off from its life source. Worse yet, because poetry could not breed in captivity, it perished without issue.
Discovering the role of Copyright Law didn't bring us much closer to the shooter, though. Who and where was the mysterious Mr. John Q. Jones?
"Follow the money."
Who profited from this unspeakable crime?
Our historical research proved that before WWI people could recite dozens of recent poems but could sing along to only a few contemporary songs. Why? Convenience. Poems appearing in magazines and newspapers might be heard in bars or parlors later that same day. Songs required either a touring band or the purchase of sheet music and considerable practice. One rarely heard the same song more than once a week.
Radio reversed this, starting in the early 1920s. With the drop of a needle listeners from L.A. to New York could hear the same song. If a hit, they'd hear it again and again. Immediately, the poetry/songs ratio reversed. Today, the average individual can recite the words to thousands of contemporary songs but nary a single contemporary poem.
Indeed, the complete disappearance of poetry has given rise to conspiracy theories, speculating that poetry staged its own death, had a makeover and is living on in lyrics.
Songwriters who have profited from poetry's demise or metamorphosis don't deny this.
Do you, Mr. Jones?
Coming Soon: Time for some good news
Friday, April 15, 2011
First, the really bad news
Why is it important to revitalize the public's interest in poetry?
Pick a number between 1613 and 1915. Don't argue. Just humor me.
That number represents a year between Shakespeare's retirement and T.S. Eliot's debut. Now look at every poetry anthology published in the last fifty years. How many poems from the year you chose are being preserved in reprint? Or on required reading lists? Fewer than a half dozen, I'll wager, and probably closer to one or two. Now survey every anglophone on the planet, asking each of them how many of these poems they can quote. How many of the poems from that year have been preserved in our collective memory? One, maybe two. Probably none.
Looking forward, this number--zero, one or two--represents how many poems from 2011 rate to survive until 2111.
Pretty bleak, no? As the song says, "You ain't seen nothing yet!"
Factor in the rampant and growing generational narcissism that ignores history entirely. Fewer than 50% of high school graduates can name the major combatants in WWII. If they know so little about a world-wide conflagration from 70 years ago, what chance is there that they will know or care about a poem written in centuries past?
Can the news get any worse? Well, actually, it can and does.
We need to consider that, before WWI, people cared about poetry. They memorized scores of poems as they appeared in magazines and newspapers. They performed them in parlors and at parties, perhaps hoping to catch the eye of a prospective romantic partner. This popularity gave poems and poets their first push into posterity. No, it didn't work with Thomas Tusser (who?) and it didn't happen with E.A. Poe or Emily Dickinson but, for the most part, contemporary champions helped a poet's chances of immortality.
Today, most people can't recite a single line of serious poetry written in the last half century.
Thus, there is virtually no chance that any poem written this year will be considered significant in 2111 or beyond. In short, there is no such thing as posterity anymore. The most frustrating thing is that quality isn't the issue. Does it really matter how pretty that tree falling in the forest is?
Think of how depressing it is for a poetry editor to know that nothing published today will stand the test of time. As for a contemporary audience, if Giles Coren is correct--and I suspect he is--even poets don't read the editor's offerings. Repopularizing poetry is important, if only to talk editors down from the ledge.
As was pointed out in The Guardian's article, "What's wrong with popularising poetry?", some academic types don't want poetry to be popularized. You've seen these ostriches rolling their eyes and making droll, dismissive jokes whenever anyone mentions the truth about poetry's irrelevance.
Imagine the irony if these were the same folks who complain about English departments being downsized!
Next: Who Killed Poetry?
Coming Soon: Time for some good news
Want to be Earl Gray for a Day? Email your tongue-in-cheek rant to p.gardener123@gmail.com . Feel free to use simple HTML tags as necessary.
Pick a number between 1613 and 1915. Don't argue. Just humor me.
That number represents a year between Shakespeare's retirement and T.S. Eliot's debut. Now look at every poetry anthology published in the last fifty years. How many poems from the year you chose are being preserved in reprint? Or on required reading lists? Fewer than a half dozen, I'll wager, and probably closer to one or two. Now survey every anglophone on the planet, asking each of them how many of these poems they can quote. How many of the poems from that year have been preserved in our collective memory? One, maybe two. Probably none.
Looking forward, this number--zero, one or two--represents how many poems from 2011 rate to survive until 2111.
Pretty bleak, no? As the song says, "You ain't seen nothing yet!"
Factor in the rampant and growing generational narcissism that ignores history entirely. Fewer than 50% of high school graduates can name the major combatants in WWII. If they know so little about a world-wide conflagration from 70 years ago, what chance is there that they will know or care about a poem written in centuries past?
Can the news get any worse? Well, actually, it can and does.
We need to consider that, before WWI, people cared about poetry. They memorized scores of poems as they appeared in magazines and newspapers. They performed them in parlors and at parties, perhaps hoping to catch the eye of a prospective romantic partner. This popularity gave poems and poets their first push into posterity. No, it didn't work with Thomas Tusser (who?) and it didn't happen with E.A. Poe or Emily Dickinson but, for the most part, contemporary champions helped a poet's chances of immortality.
Today, most people can't recite a single line of serious poetry written in the last half century.
Thus, there is virtually no chance that any poem written this year will be considered significant in 2111 or beyond. In short, there is no such thing as posterity anymore. The most frustrating thing is that quality isn't the issue. Does it really matter how pretty that tree falling in the forest is?
Think of how depressing it is for a poetry editor to know that nothing published today will stand the test of time. As for a contemporary audience, if Giles Coren is correct--and I suspect he is--even poets don't read the editor's offerings. Repopularizing poetry is important, if only to talk editors down from the ledge.
As was pointed out in The Guardian's article, "What's wrong with popularising poetry?", some academic types don't want poetry to be popularized. You've seen these ostriches rolling their eyes and making droll, dismissive jokes whenever anyone mentions the truth about poetry's irrelevance.
Imagine the irony if these were the same folks who complain about English departments being downsized!
Next: Who Killed Poetry?
Coming Soon: Time for some good news
Want to be Earl Gray for a Day? Email your tongue-in-cheek rant to p.gardener123@gmail.com . Feel free to use simple HTML tags as necessary.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Regents, Freaks & Ghosts
- The Content Regent
A Content King or Content Queen is one who believes in substance over form. Typically, a Content Regent will pay lip service to technique but, in truth, they believe that the value and definition of writing lies in its profoundly intellectual, emotional or humorous nature. Examples of the latter extend from the bawdy doggerel we'd encounter in men's magazines to shaggy-dog tales with linebreaks. "Emotionally profound" can amount to the overwrought fare found in high school yearbooks or jingoistic anthems. Rounding out the triumvirate are the artless word puzzles and philosophy lectures with linebreaks found in literary magazines. In short, we have the silly, the sentimental and the pseudointellectual.
Archetypes: Billy Collins, Maya Angelou & Lawrence Ferlinghetti - The Technique Freak
If you know that "We Real Cool" by Gwendolyn Brooks is a bacchic monometer curgina you may be a form-over-content Technique Freak. This is a rare but, strangely, unprotected species. The natural habitat of these odd birds is the online workshop, where discussing subject matter is considered inappropriate. Their mating call scans into accentual, accentual-syllabic and quantitative meter. Content Regents form their diet.
Archetypes: Algernon Swinburne & Ezra Pound. - The GoStWeTo
"...it's like that first guitar I played:
at the center is a hole,
at the center is a longing."
- from "A Girl on the Road" by Ferron
In the center stand those who look for a Good Story Well Told. Just as nearly everyone rates themself an above average driver, most poetry fans claim inclusion in this group. In fact, GoStWeTos are so rare as to be called "G[h]osts". This becomes evident when we read criticism. The Content Regent's reviews read like blurbs or annotation. The Technique Freak concentrates on whether or not the writing is poetry, good or bad. Only the GoStWeTo addresses whether or not it is poetry worth reading. The notion that some excellent verse will be of no interest to anyone [other than technicians] is lost on the TechFreak.
"Ginger Caputo
And Dorian Gray
Oughtta stay out of pictures
If they got nothin' to say"
- from "Forbidden Jimmy" by John Prine
Archetypes: Shakespeare & T.S. Eliot.
Let us redivide the poetry pie along other, more basic biases: good versus bad and commercial versus aesthetic. Were we talking about the best contempory versers we could be comparing the ever-popular Leonard Cohen with the esteemed academic Seamus Heaney. In a recent Guardian article entitled
"What's wrong with popularising poetry? Well, the poets don't seem to like it . . ." we saw two promoters of bad poetry squaring off.
Garrison Keillor and August Kleinzahler
Leaving aside the fact that they look like two psych patients on bath night, we see an Edgar Guest being attacked by a typical Content King. The distinction between them is less than meets the eye: someone with poor taste versus someone with no taste.
What galls Content Regents is the fact that bad poetry trumps non-poetry.
Want to be Earl Gray for a Day? Email your tongue-in-cheek rant to earlthesquirrelpoetry@gmail.com . Feel free to use simple HTML tags as necessary.