patrickkanouse.com Blog

Good Poems Make You Work?

In the recent INTake article, I stated, “I think it’s partially because good poetry makes you work really hard.” I realize that, probably, my choice of the word “work” here was incorrect. Many people associate negative thoughts about “work” or at least not always stimulating and interesting thoughts about the activity to earn a keep.

I have attempted to come up with alternate words, but I run into a fairly long list (and many word combinations): Engage, provoke to thought, stimulate, etc. I think that the important  aspect I want to get to is that a poem engages the reader completely, relentlessly, and compellingly (and that last word is really assumed by the former two). A good poem does make you work by testing the aural space of sounds, by using metaphor to link two disparate ideas, by alluding to tradition (either outright rejection, incorporation, abandonment, utilization, or traditionally), by compelling the reader to consider his or her “place” in life. I’m using words I am certain many academics would frown upon, but poetry engages our deepest passions, fears, loves, and terrors. People want poetry read at their wedding, even if that is the only poem they have ever read. People want poetry read at their funeral, even when they won’t hear it. Poetry speaks to that center of human thought and desire that prose can only briefly touch, that music touches in a different manner, that painting can only briefly bring forth.

So I meant “work” in a sense that allows for entertainment, learning, feeling, etc. Poetry is the good work, the gumption normal people feel about planting some flowers in flowerbeds on the first warm days of spring. Every year they plant again and again. Some let weeds overtake and autumn is a relief. Some weed and till and work the beds all season long. Others plan to do so but only briefly foray out into the sun. Poetry is that first rush of excitement, the planning, the joy in placing hands into the dirt. Without it, we would not have such beautiful gardens, flowerbeds, or excitement. It is work, but it engages us wholly.

Henry James: A Quote

“We work in the dark - we do what we can - we give what we have. Our doubt is our passion, and our passion is our task. The rest is the madness of art.” - Henry James

INTake and National Poetry Month, Part II

The article featuring me along with several other Indiana poets hit the stands today. You can check out an online version at INTake’s site.

Neglected Masters

I recently received and begun reading Samuel Menashe’s New and Selected Poems from the Library of America. Menashe is the first recipient of Poetry Foundation’s Neglected Masters Award, of which the publication of this volume is part of the prize. I believe Menashe definitely is deserving of the prize (and Christopher Ricks’ introduction is very good at pointing out the poetics of Menashe’s genius). I will write at some future date about Menashe’s poems. Here, though, I would like to nominate my own poet for the next Neglected Masters Award. That poet is Jared Carter.

If you have never heard of Jared Carter or not read his poetry, you are missing out on some special writing. The reasons you may not have heard of him are all too common, alas. First, he lives in Indiana and often his writing uses regional folklore, history, and landscapes. However, all writing is, in the end, regional. All writing is colored by the context of the writer and wherever he or she is. To dismiss outright a Midwest writer simply because he or she does not hail from the Northeast is not only wrong but also results in a poorer literature. The second reason is that many of Carter’s poems are in the narrative mode. Sadly, the narrative poem is often viewed with hostility at the worst, disdain at the least. Let me clarify this a bit, though. These two reasons are why Carter is not known or discussed in academic circles. Carter’s poetry is formalist, narrative, accessible, and regional. While the academy may find this kind of poetry off limits, general readers find his work compelling, real, entertaining, and—horrors—beautiful. (If I am sounding too much like Dana Gioia here, apologies, but I often find myself in agreement with his evaluation of the poetry world in academics, the general populace, and the value and role poetry have.)

Carter has had more recognition in his life than Menashe, but more does not mean adequate. Carter has published several books and was invited to read at the Library of Congress by Ted Kooser (then Poet Laureate). Still, finding Carter’s works in a bookstore is difficult and his prominence is far too slight for a poet of such imaginative depth and compelling language.

To help understand the significance of Carter’s work, I would like to discuss a single poem of his from his first widely published book, Work, for the Night Is Coming, which won the 1980 Walt Whitman Award from the Academy of American Poets (I seem to recall that it was not called the Walt Whitman Award at that time). The poem is “Early Warning” and is quoted in full below:

Early Warning