Wednesday, August 6, 2014

NYT story on NC Poet Laureate Brouhaha

The Times a few days ago ran a story on the profusion of poets laureate across the U.S., singling out the new and suddenly former poet laureate of North Carolina.  According to the article, former NCPLs objected not just to the selection process, but its result: " . . . Gov. Pat McCrory’s choice of Ms. [Valerie] Macon — a state disability examiner with two self-published books to her credit — was an outrageous end run around the selection process, if not a cynical prelude to abolishing the position altogether."

And today, a letter to the Times's editors by the South Carolina PL says, of Ms Macon, "Lots of people 'dabble' in poetry, and that’s great, but it’s not the same as becoming a literary artist. Poetry is an art form that requires enormous effort and craft. Anyone considered for poet laureate should have achieved some level of literary accomplishment and have a record of working in the community and/or organizing literary events."

I do love the snarky jab the Times article and, now, Ms Wentworth take at Ms Macon for being an employee of the state. As if the disqualifier has been discovered!  While I am decidedly NOT a political supporter of NC Gov. Pat McCrory and his heavy-handed tactics, I am also not kindred to PLs like Ms Wentworth of South Carolina (or Ms Macon's outraged predecessors here in the Old North State).  Statements like the above are why.  I dislike the elitism on display and absolutely despise it when so-called "professionals" (Ms Wentworth's "literary accomplishment") practice it. 

If poetry, from a public standpoint, is for the people, then the State should not consider professionalism as the sole criterion for selectiing its PL.  In fact, if the State is really interested in promoting poetry among its citizens--a very noble undertaking, in my book--it might select PLs based on a demonstrated respect for the art, a willingness to be a voice and to serve, the energy to do the job, an ability to connect with citizens on the topic in all its forms, and, generally, to be a proponent of the art. 

The Ms Wentworths in the dustup mis-think in two regards: 1) the belief that only published writers and critics of poetry truly understand the art, and 2) the assumption that laureate positions are rewards for a lifetime of practice and publication (decidedly NOT self-publication, either, Ezra Pound's and Walt Whitman's early years be damned). 

PL jobs, however, are exactly that, jobs, and state PL positions are state jobs.  A good and passionate though otherwise "lay" reader of poetry, for example, might be as fit for this type of administrative/promotional role as any writer or professional critic.  But as long as the Ms Wentworths of poetry dominate the selection process for PLs, you can be sure that only these practitioners will advance.

We will never know what kind of poet laureate Ms Macon would have made--good, bad or indifferent--in spite of her "self-publication" and status as an "employee of the state" (read: crony).  What we will get to see, though, is the next carbon copy of all the former PLs.

Monday, July 21, 2014

Poetry makes NYT's Room for Debate blog!!!

I don't have enough to do.  Thus, I spend too much time reading the New York Times online -- it's just too damn available.  And I am too damn undisciplined, perhaps.

Yesterday I read the "poetry issue" of the Sunday Times Book Review.  Wow, "we" get an entire issue!  (Actually, I am grateful for it, as I should be.)  Then today, we are treated to the "debate" among a handful of poets and critics.  Personally, I appreciate Tracy K. Smith's "Wipe That Smirk Off Your Poem," if only because I've been thinking about contemporary poetry in exactly the same way the past few days, while reading back issues of the American Poetry Review.  I believe that, for all that review's reputation for iconoclasm and the new-new, one of its editors' two primary criteria for selecting poems to publish is . . . irony.  Good old-fashioned irony.  That is, stone-cold detachment.  Tracy K.'s "smirk."  If you have a copy of the May/June 2014 issue, you might look at Hannah Gamble's "I Will Explain Infidelity."  You'll see what I mean.

But I digress.  Back to the debate in today's NYT.  Tracy K. Smith gets an A for insight and speaking truth about the oversize role of irony in contemporary evaluations.  Paul Muldoon gets a B+ for . . . being ironic (actually one of his commenters, who questions why he devoted ninety minutes to a bad movie before walking out, gets the grade; Muldoon gets a C for winking too violently).  Martin Espada gets a C for an average effort to infuse his subject with purple stuff.  William Logan, probably my favorite living skewerer of bombast and laziness in poetic language, gets a D+ for bombast and laziness with statements like "People can live without poetry, just as they can live without bread, or water, or air — at least for a time," and "As for relevance, poetry does not need to be relevant. It needs to be good." 

As for the others in the debate, pablum.  They trumpet poetry's "humanity" and capacity for surprise and how that saves us from ourselves, asserting its populist nature in one breath, its challenging nobility in the next.  They're right, of course.  I can't disagree.  But have we discounted Aristotle's assessment that it's a making?  Doesn't matter whether it's good or relevant; it's somethin' we do because we have this material called language.  That's in some ways easier, some ways harder, to work than stone.

One thinig all these poets can agree on, though, that I can agree on as well: they wouldn't have had their day in the RFD blog were they not players, with a trail of publications, awards, and other recognitions.  For here is a truth of poetry in the West today: you get the microphone and the podium just as soon as you get the published work.  Then you get to define the art, it's role in society, politics and culture.  And you get the stipend to boot.  And then you get to determine who else gets all this stuff.

Here's an idea.  Next time we have a debate about poetry--in person or virtual--let's turn the microphone toward the audience and dispense with the podium.  Just a bunch of makers talkiing about making.

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Summer reading: Barrow Street

Among the poetry magazines I picked up toward the end of spring for summer reading: Barrow Street.  I've always liked Barrow Street because more than any literary review I know, it takes poetry seriously enough to exclude other genres.  And still publish a high-quality number.  I know, I know.  Poetry has something to say here.  So do others.  But Barrow Street is devoted to poetry, more or less, to The Poem.  And not the poem by the rock star. 

The 2013/14 Winter issue (not yet online) assembles more than 200 pages of poems by over 100 poets.  Talk about your festschrift of what's happening right this minute in poetry!  Can you imagine the amount of work required to assemble 200+ quality pages of poems by 100+ quality poets?  The contributors are arranged alphabetically by name; most are represented by one piece, usually no longer than a page or page and a quarter.  The shortest poem is "Gide," by Adam Day:

Our cat
tactfully

survived fame
slept strictly

guarded in black
photographs

Three of the contributors--Sharon Dolan, Page Hill Starzinger, Aafa Michael Weaver--are featured through works in progress or book excerpts of up to seven pages.

This issue includes three poems by Clark Moore.  Clark!  Dancing in a circle, arms waving above the head.  A Clark!  I'm feeling tribal.  Well, vicarious.

Find a good bookstore (i.e., one with more than one shelf of poetry and one that carries poetry mags, like Quail Ridge Books in Raleigh, North Carolina, and pick up a copy.  Always good reading.

Friday, July 4, 2014

July 4, 2014

Tonight, I sit on my patio as the light goes out in the neighborhood sky and listen to fireworks all around.  Kids, mostly, with M-80s and bottle rockets, or whatever they use nowadays.  It all sounds the same: crack crack crack.  Wide eyes turned skyward, shrieks of joy and astonishment. It's the special night each year you get to set them off without driving your neighbors shrieking into the cellar or a bunker. That's freedom, right? 

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

"Stalking the Typical Poem" by Jan Schreiber


I stumbled upon this essay in the Contemporary Poetry Review, by Jan Schreiber.  He articulates some problems and possible ways of looking at them that everybody wrestles with who thinks about contemporary American poetry.  I would add the attribute “absurd” or “absurdist” to his list of commonalities among a certain "type" of contemporary American poem, though this is possibly what he means by "fantastical":
    • unmetered and unrhymed
    • focused on a particular event
    • details are slightly fantastical but not incomprehensible
    • invites metaphoric or symbolic interpretation
    • can be reduced to a simple, unsurprising observation
    • ends inconclusively
He's quick to acknowledge that there are more types than the one described by these attributes. 
 
Poets deploy strategies for making language, the material which they “work,” visible.  Which to me is the chief virtue of poetry.  Poetry may be distinguished as the only verbal art in which language is approached in this way, as opposed to an instrument with which to manage/shape material (i.e., content).  Incomprehensibility is certainly one of those strategies, and can be a force in encouraging readers to attend to the language of the poem, what's being done to/with it, its effect upon the ear, and the limits of its elasticity.  To me, this is a noble undertaking and keeps language alive.  It's certainly why I continue to read poetry.

Monday, June 30, 2014

Allen Grossman has died.  For all his "poet's poetry" and scholarly persona, he declared, “The making of poems is a practice — a work human beings can do . . ."  That is, not so much an act of eruditon, but of humanity.

A practice.

A doing.

Good-bye, Prof. Grossman.

Sunday, June 15, 2014

Take a look at this poet

Sara Deniz Akant has eight poems featured here by Pen America, and two more appear in jubilat 25 (not yet online).  I am new to her writing, and I'm intrigued by it.  The two poems in jubilat ring like Hopkins: that is, their sprung rhythm.  I hope to hear them read.

Here's a sample from jubilat . . .

Gammadin

the rollings changed, gone
as soon as they came to
conceal, dense trees.

so often the case in our dreams.

there seemed no end to these dimless
woods : immense, in-hammered,
in solid-start : in gammadin we stood.

A good start to summer reading.  Looking forward to the rest of the season!
 

Thursday, June 12, 2014

My semi-annual blog post

Every once in a while, I remember that I set up this blog years ago.  Why, I don't know.  Okay, I do know.  Everybody else has a blog, so why not me?  I must get with the times. The problem is that I can't stay with the times.  It's boring.  And a verbal selfie.