Thomas Kinsella passed earlier this week. Not one of my favorite poets, I began reading his work while in graduate school but never could warm to it. His poems struck me as unnecessarily dark, dreary and defeatist. I say that even though I count Geoffrey Hill among my favorite writers of poetry!
But where Hill's poems sparkle in their darkness, Kinsella's give up no light at all.
There always seemed to be something about Kinsella's work that wasn't quite honest, at least what bit of it I could read before throwing the book aside or turning the page in the anthology or magazine. His poetry never seemed to truly believe in itself. I hesitate to say this of such a celebrated poet, but his work forever struck me as . . . sentimental and adolescent. Like the writing of a sullen teenager.
If you get the opportunity, though, you should find his poems and read them. Maybe you'll have better reading than I.
No comments:
Post a Comment