Poetry Readings - Stand Up and be Counted
by Tom Henihan
The American poet Robert Lowell said, "Poetry is an event not the record of
an event" and I believe all poets would do well to keep this statement in
mind. This is especially important for those who propose to read their
efforts in public.
Some time ago I went to a poetry reading in Victoria, BC where the featured
poet performed the remarkable feat of reading for forty-five minutes without
ever using a metaphor, not even by accident. What is even more remarkable is
that this "poet" teaches poetry at a college here on Vancouver Island.
That someone so conspicuously lacking in talent would call herself a poet
is impertinent. That she can read for half an hour without using a metaphor
and never risk censure by the audience is distressing. That she teaches
poetry to college students is ridiculous.
But let me be quick to point out that she does not stand alone. There is a
multitude of men and women loitering in the wings with reams of clipped
prose, waiting to knock our socks off. There are the self-aggrandizing
poets, waving their hands to a cadence or rhythm only they can hear. The
charismatic poets who, basking in the glow of their own charm, clap their
eyes on the audience and smile to lend emphasis to a particularly witty or
pertinent line. There are the podium leaning, page-flicking, teacher poets
who have fallen in love with the sound of their own voices. And of course
the sublime poets who arrive out of the ether with Buddhist chimes, ukuleles
and shaman drums. In almost all these cases the poem takes second place to
the poet. The text is merely incidental to the performance.
Many see this proliferation of poets as a good thing but I see it as a
negative development. Most of these so-called poets wouldn’t recognize
poetry if it jumped up and had its way with them at a Canada Council picnic.
Rant isn’t poetry no matter how noble the sentiment may be. Poetry should
inspire not instruct or lead us around by the nose. It works its magic to
greater effect if the emphasis is implicit rather than explicit. Too often a
work is lauded for the sentiment expressed without any consideration given
to its artistic fulfillment.
Another ominous entity that is making a comeback in poetry circles is the
term "riff". Of course everyone knows that the superficial connection
between jazz and poetry has been "on the road" since the forties or fifties.
The trumpeter Wynton Marsalis has this to say about jazz." It is the
hardest music to play that I know of and it is the highest rendition of
individual emotion in the history of Western music."
Ironically, the use of jazz idioms where writing is concerned usually
suggests a license to be careless. It is my suspicion that most writers who
use the term riff when introducing a poem don't even listen to jazz. If
they did they would know that a lot of hard work precedes those riffs and if
they are not up to the mark, fellow musicians and jazz aficionados don't
keep that fact a secret. With poetry however, its hugs and kudos all round
no matter what kind of a show has been put on.
Poetry readings should not be afforded the same cozy protected environment
of workshops and poetry groups. We don't invite an audience to the theater
to watch the players rehearse. A performance is a lot more decisive if there
is something at stake and poets should welcome the opportunity to face down
a critical audience that responds with authority.
This lack of being accountable, the attitude that anything goes has made
poetry the creative expression of last resort, even after mime and
children's theater. There are a lot of pedestrians out there who have
reasoned that if they can't sing, dance, or play the guitar, they must, by
default, be poets.
Some years ago a guy I knew in Vancouver lost his job at an art gallery.
Due to idleness and a lack of direction he fell in with the poetry crowd and
of course started writing. His stuff was sloppy and obviously derivative
but no one seemed to mind. One night sitting over a beer I cautiously asked
him about his creative process. Without batting an eyelid, he told me that
he typed other poets work on his computer, moved the verses around and
substituted words until he had something that looked like his own. He then
enthusiastically added, "This poetry thing is a blast."
I'm all for poetry being a blast but it cannot be viable unless we are
discriminating and courageous enough not only to identify the charlatans but
also to celebrate and give momentum to poets of real accomplishment. For
too long now any criticism of Canadian literature has been seen as
tantamount to treason. Peter Gzowski during his years in the Canadian
cultural cockpit did a lot to ram this absurd edict down our throats. Canada
is no different from any other country in the world. Most of what gets
written is mediocre at best and almost all poetry is bad. Almost all! This
is why true poetry deserves to shine and endure and why it needs a more
discriminating audience.
So often at readings the featured reader shows up with his or her students
in tow, to marvel at the pyrotechnics of the maestro. These poets are
invariably dull. To be honest, I find the teaching of poetry a dubious
occupation and poetry workshops are a real thorn in my side.
Poets who organize and teach poetry workshops have reduced poetry to a
cottage industry. The teaching of poetry has become epidemic. The question
of having the “gift” never comes up; the assumption being that poetry can be
acquired like everything else. I have to say that the poets who head up
these little retreats are very sensitive, preferring to lie rather than give
any genuine criticism that may offend the student. You see they must keep
these aspiring poets coming back, year after year, stanza after stanza, by
shamelessly lending credence to the most flat literal efforts. I have yet to
meet anyone who has been told the truth about their work, (good or bad) at
one of these little soirées in the woods.
The blame shouldn’t go so much to the hapless souls that sign-up for these
exercises but to the purveyors of snake oil that put them on. I am not
suggesting that poets cannot teach one another a trick or two, but taking 10
to 15 aspirants to a nunnery in Sooke for a 3-day workshop is so sweet it
could make one cry. It goes up against everything radical, wild and
individual in poetry. These people would be better served and brought closer
to poetry if they got drunk, got laid, or went dancing.
The teaching of poetry whether in university, college or high school is the
single most damaging force to the creation and appreciation of the genre.
One of the underlining advantages of studying poetry at a university or
college is that if you fail to create any poetry of merit you can always
fall back on teaching it. This ensures that the damage will be perpetuated
onto the next generation. I think the people who elect to teach and
de-mystify poetry and make it accessible should keep Mallarme’s dictum in
mind. “To suggest is to create, to explain is to destroy.” This assertion
is particularly important when the explanations offered are misguided and
wrong. If someone wants to write they should work quietly, trust their
instincts and study literature.
When student poets get up to read they almost always thank their teacher
for making poetry fun. Poetry should be protected from fun. There is so
much fun in the world it isn’t funny anymore. Poetry is essentially a solemn
and devotional form. Funny poetry is a contradiction in terms…it’s the
equivalent of kneeling in a church and saying funny prayers or chanting at a
funny ritual. I am not saying that there is no room for humour in poetry but
I am saying that there is very little room. We need things that are serious.
What could be more pessimistic that wanting everything to be funny? Like
failed musicians and actors who become children’s entertainers, I sometimes
suspect that comedians that aren’t that funny decide to be poets.
Poetry and the reading of poetry should be an event of the same stature as
theater or music. Sure, it is not as easy to spot talent or the lack of it
as it is with acting or music so we have to be vigilant, outspoken, more
courageous with our criticism and more qualified in our praise. Seeing as I
began this piece with a quote from a poet, I feel it is appropriate to
finish it with a riff from the Russian poet, Anna Akhmatova:
Do not repeat - your soul is rich -
The thing that someone said before,
But who knows, perhaps poetry itself
Is just one marvelous quotation.
Tom Henihan was born in Limerick City, Ireland and immigrated to Canada in 1982.
He has lived between southern Alberta and Vancouver Island for the past 17
years. He has read his work at many of the major venues across Canada and
been a resident at the Leighton Artists studios at the Banff Centre for the
arts in 1995, 1997 and 1998.
Henihan's first collection of poetry Between the Streets was published in 1992.
His second book A Mortar of Seeds published by Ekstasis Editions was
nominated for a Writers Guild of Alberta Award in 1998. In 2002, he
published a hand-printed limited edition Almost Forgotten with Frog Hollow
Press. His fourth collection A Further Exile was published in
fall 2002, also
with Ekstasis Editions. Subsequent to the publication of Almost Forgotten,
he
became poetry editor with Frog Hollow Press.
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