Who Cares?
I have been weighed down lately by this feeling of disillusionment with the very tangential place of poetry in today’s world, not to say its futility. It seems very few arts can claim a more marginal status in today’s culture, or could matter less for that matter. And the whole endeavor is so close-circuited that it seems incestuous at times, in the sense that the main audience for poetry tends to be poets, poets that are often more interested in hearing themselves than anybody else. Everybody is so eager to get published in journals that they’ve never heard of before (and hardly know where to acquire); and there certainly is more supply than demand. I am the first to admit that I haven’t read most of the other poets’ work in the few journals I have been published in; and I am sure I’m not alone. There is an ever-increasing plethora of little venues for poetry (or shall we just call it “self-expression”?): from the myriad literary journals littering the shelves of bookstores (and those are the ones that do make it to the shelves), to blogs and the infinite variations of online publication. But is anyone reading? The Poetry Foundation tried to answer this question with an admirable “scientific study”, the conclusion of which was, basically, what we’ve known all along: that almost nobody reads poetry, but those who do are essentially “better” people than the rest.
And yet, we are all here obviously for more than our love of our voices. We are here for a love—a perhaps idealized one (as all the best kinds of love are)—of a medium that we believe in, one with an ancient and profound history in perhaps every culture on the face of this slowly-simmering earth. We are here because, obviously, poetry has worked, at least for us, at one point in time. All of this reminds me of an excellent essay by Dana Gioia titled “Can Poetry Matter?” The essay is published in Gioia’s book of the same title (and which I have yet to buy/read). If you haven’t read the essay, I highly recommend it (and you can find it online at the link above). It is a very coherent and ambitious essay, and ultimately very optimistic (with its suggestion of a work plan and all). I first read it two years ago, and I don’t know if I was simply in a better mood, but the bulleted recommendations at the end of the article seemed feasible, if hopeful. Now… I obviously don’t feel that way anymore. Yes, it was a historic moment when poetry made it to The Daily Show with Jon Stewart in the form of Robert Pinsky; but it was also, to say the least, severely cringe-inducing. Maybe poetry is more at home on NPR, and in poorly attended readings at cafes and bookshops. Maybe that is why we are into poetry in the first place.
In conclusion, and in the spirit of true cynicism and self-absorption, here is my poetic riff on the matter, if anybody cares…
9 Comments
we write because it is what we do. if one poem touches one other person it is a poem that was suppose to be written. You Ashraf have touched many a person. Poetry should reach out and touch people where they live, their hearts, souls and minds. Poets should reflect society with all its beauty and flaws and that my friend is the future of poetry if in fact there is one. I do think if poets would enjoy the readings of others and not leave after their set it would be a positive sign to those who are not poets and are in attendence. I read your riff… a fine poet you are, write some more
i’m glad you point to the gioia essay — it’s had a profound impact on the way i think about poetry. but one of the things that i always think about, is that if poet’s want to be considered relevant, than they need to be relevant. it’s not enough if all of us just write our poems, put them in their envelopes, and wait idly by for someone to send a letter back telling us that our poetry matters enough to be printed in some journal (which, you’re right, we’ve probably never even actually seen in hardcopy – shame on us). what does this mean, i’m not entirely sure — i think we need to write poems that strive for connection. i think many of us do that. i think many others ARE very enamored with ourselves and our own voices (this is partly why i think poetry & blogging are such appropriate bedfellows). perhaps i’m being too critical…
but i think another thing that many of us can do is focus less on the products and more on the process. there are lots of bad poems out there, but bad or not the creation of those poems have saved the people who wrote them. helping people find their voices in poetry is something that i consider an obligation that many of us should strive to fulfill. we are fortunate to have found our voices in poetry. many many others have not. many are afraid — because poetry is shrouded in mystery. the idea that people who read poetry are “better” people, keeps many people who have less education, means, or whatever to feel like poetry isn’t for them. not to mention that the way poetry has traditionally been taught, i think, really prevents many people from making a personal connection. and well, now, with standardized tests being all the rage, I think poetry is being taught less and less — at least in any meaningful way. and what about us poets, a close female relative once told me that she had started writing poems but that she wasn’t anywhere as good as me. i struggled with what to say, because the last thing i wanted was for my poetry to intimidate her away from her own writing. i told her that it didn’t matter, i tried to talk about my process, so that she could understand that all of us struggle. real poets don’t receive poems like the holy spirit, some unexpected gift of flame and foreign language. we work, we journal, we doubt ourselves, we cross out entire pages, we tear things up, we write absolute drivel. we just keep writing. and i told her that’s what she should do.
so, for me, that’s how poetry matters. i didn’t start writing poems to become rich. sure, i’d love to have my own tent at the Dodge Festival, but that’s not why i do it either. I think most of us didn’t even start writing poems so that other people would have something to read. Like George said, its what we do. we have to.
but what keeps me going, why i think its really important to be a poet and to have poets in the world, is so that other people know that poetry is out there, waiting for them when they need it.
George, thank you for the reassuring comment! I realize this post was, in a way, asking for it. But I was also hoping to get to the pragmatics beyond the “love of the game”, though I perhaps didn’t phrase it very well. What did you think of the findings of that Poetry Foundation study? Were they surprising to you? Do you personally wonder about such questions from time to time? And what did you think of Gioia’s suggestions for revamping poetry? Or do you think any such action is needed and/or useful?
Autumn, I’m glad you brought up the idea of the relevance of poetry, and I understand the emphasis on the process. But do you think that what is undermining the relevance of poetry is a certain lack of criticism? For the caliber of the product does have a large impact at the end on its relevance. I personally admit that I have the hardest time being critical; if I don’t like a poem, I would prefer not to say anything than criticize. Part of that is my awareness of the highly subjective nature of poetry. But I fear that this uncritical attitude might be undermining the relevance of poetry.
In the end, I am glad you both care very much. As a point of clarification, the title of the post wasn’t intended as a flippant remark as much as a valid question about attitude towards poetry OUTSIDE of the small sphere of poets.
Ashraf: I agree with the recommendations of Gioia. Poetry needs to reach out as I said before and relate to people providing a voice to those without and reflecting society as a whole. I read a lot, I do not limit myself to blue collar poets like myself but also search for good works by academics. The academic stranglehold on poetry however is having a negative effect. Groups such as the Mad Poets mix blue collar and academic poets together which is a good thing. Skin radio is giving a voice to poets in the Philadelphia area that was never provided before. The internet has provided a new outlet for poets as print options continue to decline. That being said, I have enough rejection letters from print and electronic journals to know it is not easy to get published in either venue. The poetry foundation study has confirmed my own unofficial findings on the current state of poetry.
At the last Oxford Valley Mad Poets reading I read two works by other poets, one from Justin Barrett and one from A.D. Winans. Both were well received by the small audience and by those who were listening from the stacks. I agree more poets should read other works at readings as it adds an extra dimension to the readings. So to the question of “Who Cares?” People do care, poets just have to reach out and find them.
Ashraf –
I absolutely think that the lack of really critical criticism has something to do with poetry’s lack of relevance. As much I laud the importance of process, and the need for people to write bad poems rather than no poems at all, I think there’s a problem with coddling in American poetry, and perpetuating the status quo. The only review can be a good review — oh and it can only be a review of someone that everyone’s already heard of. That’s a pretty useless practice. As much as I enjoy writing critical prose, I don’t like to read much of it, because it rarely says anything. Back in the day, a review was a review. Good or bad, you got what you had coming to you. And I think that kept poetry honest. Now, it feels like everyone’s jockeying for tenure and/or that primo publication, so nobody wants to step on anyone’s toes — even if what they’ve written is total crap.
George, yes, I am very happy for the existence of venue such as the Mad Poets Society and Skin Radio that mix the academic with the blue collar, as you call it. And I am not doubting the presence of voices out there that deserve to be heard. If anything, I am lamenting the fact that they are not getting the exposure that I believe they deserve. But I think efforts such as this blog are an attempt to, at least partially, alleviate the situation.
Autumn, I completely agree. And I think part of it might be because the poetry world is such a small (and endangered?) universe, that people feel protective of each other. Which is understandable, but leads, unfortunately, to adverse effects…
we’re probably going to be talking about this for ever. not to say that we shouldn’t keep talking about it. the topic, the self-doubt, keeps us and poetry fit. or, at least, it tries to.
the poetry foundation study is interesting; the key findings in particular.
i like knowing that people read poetry when there is only one poem there and out of context of the poet-i-sphere. all those poems in the New Yorker. poems in news papers. contest winners. but how often does that happen?
i get the sense, from this new knowledge that people read one-off poems, of helplessness. why? because as poets we can only produce the one-off. we are then at the disposal of the editor of whatever paper or journal to allow our poem to be the only one.
we’re at the disposal of the potatoe chip company to put our poems on the back of every bag or the resturant that prints poems on its napkins.
but this hopelessness is sided with fantasy… what if people read more in general? what if poems could be found on the back of bags of chips or on soda cans or napkins or cereal boxes?
people would read them.
then i go back to doubt… to, do people actually read that stuff? or is it just me?
how many people look at the ingredients?
then… if only people that read the ingredients are likely to read poetry or visa versa, why not supliment ingredients for poems?
((i’m not adding to the discussion much, am i?))
katy,
i love this point… i think the funny thing is, nyc asked the question: what if there was poetry on the subway? i don’t know if people read it. i don’t know how you would measure that. but i’ll bet they did. and they enjoyed it, and they looked for it when they got on each time. or were at least comforted when their eyes landed on a poem, instead of a reminder to get tested for HIV or an ad to apply for a low-cost mortgage.
I read ingredients! Especially if I have nothing to read while eating. That’s why I think your idea for putting poems on chips bags and cereal boxes is brilliant! Like the subway poetry in New York, it was one of the most sublime experiences, to see something so otherworldly yet so relevant, when you are crammed underground with nowhere to look but up!
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