Metacritique

    It begins, as always, with an author posting a piece, asking for advice.  Let's use Sharon Hurlbut's "Specimen #31, Adult Female" (posted to Zoetrope on May 4th, 2005), as an example:

Sharon Hurlbut

Follow the fluid curve
of the iliac crest, sashay of bone
tilting into jutting hips.
Mirrored innominates flower
like twisted figure eights,
a triangle of sacrum wedged between
to form the ossified cup of the womb.

Run fingers over the narrow bridge
of the pubis, reading a braille of birth
in pits and scars. The bones, still damp
from eight hundred years in earth,
hold a smell of thick life, reeking
rich decay.

Brush away the dirt with delicate tools
until only breath and a sliver of steel
can work the grains one by one
from the secret within --
an origami of eggshell bone,
the one unborn.

     The only difference between normal workshop critique and metacritique is that, with an eye toward publishing it as an audiovisual presentation (if not performance), the poet might include a [slapdash] sound or, in this case, video file:


"Specimen #31, Adult Female" by Sharon Hurlbut (Text) uploaded by Earl Gray onto Vimeo.


     Assuming the poem is neither unsalvageable nor perfect (in which case one should say so politely and move on), critics will respond in kind, addressing multimedia and networking concerns along with the text:

Evaluation:

     This is an exquisite, understated narrative that would, even in its present form, add lustre to any of the largest poetry magazines.  To be an actual poem, though, its words--not just its storyline or message--will need to be memorable.

Voice and Presentation:

     For dramatic effect, I'm thinking of an authoritative whisper, similar to the .wav file contained in this video:


Specimen31Voice uploaded by Earl Gray onto Vimeo.

Horse head squirrel feeders.  Pun by Michael Doucette.

     Nic Sebastian at "Very Like a Whale" might be perfect for this.  Dr. Niloc is finished his wordshop initiative so he might be pressed into service as videographer.  I would have done the recitation myself but I'm feeling a little horse.

     I think the presentation would work best as docuverse:  narration, film and background noises of someone scraping, brushing and sifting. 

Rhythm:

     Creating a scientific report that happens to be a poem will require consistent cadence, especially since rhyme seems unlikely.  Depending on whether these patterns or quantified or not, this translates to either blank or [High Modern monorhythmic] free verse.  Of the three possible dominant rhythms (dactyllic, trochaic and iambic) that fit the key words (e.g. "iliac", "innominates", "sacrum", "ossified", "origami", "eggshell" etc.) only one can add diaeresis to the ending ("the one unborn"):  iambic.

Sonics:

     As is evident when we recite or hear the text, there are more tongue twisters than pleasing phoneme repetitions.

Brevity:

     The second strophe works in prose, underscoring the slow pace of excavation.  In poetry, though, such filler might be shortened or dropped without losing any of the storyline.

Text:

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #42

     Normally, a complete rewrite would be innappropriate but this is merely an example of a metacriticism (which, parenthetically, may illustrate the difference between prose and poetry renderings):

Follow the fluid curve
of the iliac crest, sashay of bone
tilting into jutting hips.
Mirrored innominates flower
like twisted figure eights,
a triangle of sacrum wedged between
to form the ossified cup of the womb.

Follow fluid curves
of iliac crests, sashay of bone
protruding into broken hips.
Symmetrical innominates still flower
like twisted figure eights,
a triangle of sacrum squeezed between
to form the ossifying pelvic cup. 

     The only significant change was in dropping "of the womb", since it gives away the ending, as would the next line as written:

Run fingers over the narrow bridge
of the pubis, reading a braille of birth
in pits and scars. The bones, still damp
from eight hundred years in earth,
hold a smell of thick life, reeking
rich decay.

     This is another problem solved by the plural:

     Run your fingers over its ridge,
reading the braille of births
in pits and scars.  The damp bones
hold a smell of thick life, reeking
rich decay.

     The plethora of stresses slow the recitation down, reflecting the pace of anthropological discovery.

Brush away the dirt with delicate tools
until only breath and a sliver of steel
can work the grains one by one
from the secret within--
an origami of eggshell bone,
the one unborn.

With delicate tools, brush away the dirt
until your breath and slivers of steel
can work each grain, one by one,
from the secret hidden within--
an origami frame of eggshell bone,
the one unborn.

     There are a few liberties taken with the iambs here, starting with ignoring the semisyllable "slivers" and with the lame feet before and after "one by one", but nothing that would be out of place in metered lines. 

     As the critical thread continues, gathering suggestions from other sources, the poet might post updates--text and, perhaps, sound or video files--in the original post.  Of course, the author makes all the final decisions.

Earl the Squirrel's Rule #6

Addendum:  Prose and Poetry:

Original:

Follow the fluid curve
of the iliac crest, sashay of bone
tilting into jutting hips.
Mirrored innominates flower
like twisted figure eights,
a triangle of sacrum wedged between
to form the ossified cup of the womb.

Run fingers over the narrow bridge
of the pubis, reading a braille of birth
in pits and scars. The bones, still damp
from eight hundred years in earth,
hold a smell of thick life, reeking
rich decay.

Brush away the dirt with delicate tools
until only breath and a sliver of steel
can work the grains one by one
from the secret within--
an origami of eggshell bone,
the one unborn.

Suggested version:

Follow fluid curves
of iliac crests, sashay of bone
protruding into broken hips.
Symmetrical innominates still flower
like twisted figure eights,
a triangle of sacrum squeezed between
to form the ossifying pelvic cup.

Run your fingers over its ridge,
reading the braille of births
in pits and scars.  The damp bones
hold a smell of thick life, reeking
rich decay.

With delicate tools, brush away the dirt
until your breath and slivers of steel
can work each grain, one by one,
from the secret hidden within--
an origami frame of eggshell bone,
the one unborn.

     Note how few changes needed to be made to turn the original outline into rhythmic, "sound sound" (i.e. sonically competent) poetry.

     N.B.:  Stating that the original is prose is no insult.  People who feel that poetry is inherently more elegant, eloquent or powerful are reading the wrong prose.  They should treat themselves to some Timothy Findley or Carol Shields before concluding that poetry has some monopoly on compression or beauty.

     Just as many will prefer the movie to the book or vice versa, some will prefer the original outline to any final poem, beginning with these suggested changes.  The difference between modes is that, if reading is our only exposure to prose, we aren't missing nearly as much.

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