Terrific event yesterday in the Spoken Word Series. Featured two local artists, one a market researcher, one a high school teacher, both entertaining poets. This was Catherine Magia's first feature (I love that we can provide that opportunity), and S. Thomas Summers has two chapbooks to his credit. A great contrast in styles and presentation (and even in appearance), which really enhanced the event for me. You should have been there.
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I had the over (or would have, if I bet on football). But who cares?
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Finally finished reading the first of my Christmas presents: How Life Imitates Chess, by Garry Kasparov. My review is up at Goodreads, if you'd like to know more about how I liked it (which I did). Interesting polarization on the Goodreads reviews of this book: mostly 2s and 4s, some 1s and 5, few 3s. Is that typical of this site? I suppose this genre (celebrity business/advice) does tend to bend along with the star, with fans preferring the book. But I'm not sure why non-fans would even be interested to read the book. And I am I the only person who tends to dismiss ratings with no rationale posted?
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Fifteen days to Johan!
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Yes, reading the Kasparov book got me thinking about poetry and chess again. Also reminded me how far my chess skills have fallen since founding the chess club in high school and taking the club on the road to compete against other local schools. No, really.
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Super Tuesday is upon is. Not important to me who you vote for, just that you vote. I've said many times here that your politics predict little about the quality of your writing, but I do find a correlation between the ability and willingness to invest in forming quality political opinions and the willingness to invest in creating quality literary product. If you're interested, my first choices in both parties have already packed up the pamphlets for 2012; that's all you're going to get from me on the subject.
Monday, February 04, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
The Problem with Chunky Monkey
When Marjie Lambert penned her article "An American Odyssey", I don't think she was thinking of poetry. Nor was I - the first thing that popped into my head was that this article, subtitled "Rating the best and worst after traveling to all 50 states" was something I should send to my continentally-explorative sister-in-law. (Hi there, Sis!). And while it's generally a pretty good article, it contained a sentence that hit close to home, and made me think about one of the issues facing poetry.
Lambert talks about how the global availability of products and information has cost some of the rustic corners of the country their charm, and uses the following example:
"I didn't see much point in going that far to visit L.L. Bean's flagship store in Freeport, Maine, when I knew it so well from its catalogs, or to eat at the original Ben and Jerry's in Waterbury, Vt., when I'm already way too familiar with their ice cream."
Can't speak for the flannel purveyor, but in not stopping by the factory, Lambert missed out on a lot more than just a cup of Cherry Garcia. She missed the chance to see the ingenious layout of the factory (designed with the tourist in mind!); to see how the family-farm and environmentally-conscious mindset of the company extends not only to the product, but to the pallets, the cleaning solutions, the store itself; to hear how the first argument between the founders was about how thorough the mixing tank should be - with one saying "no spoonful should be devoid of chunks and "one saying it's OK as long as the next one has two." Is this terribly important stuff? I don't know. But it was interesting as hell to me, and it put the founders, the products, and company in a wholly different context than I had from just chowing down on the Chubby Hubby.
I'm getting to the point.
I think one reason poetry has an audience that is mostly poets is that most people have the same attitude about poetry that Ms. Lambert has about her ice cream. It's not an incorrect attitude, it's not even a negative one. It's ignorant, but in the most innocuous sense of the word: If you're not aware of the complexity and the context of something, it's often impossible to appreciate it. In a society where the omnipresence of information about a product leads people to conclude that awareness of a subject is binary - to know any is to know all - it behooves producers to make consumers aware of a little of its history, its making, its heritage.
Does this matter if the ice cream stinks? Not at all. But it can create a deeper appreciation for the ice cream if it is deserved.
Poets? While you should let people come to and sample your product willingly, don't just sit back in your Waterburys, letting people think they understand everything about it. First, make sure you know your product is worth consuming. Second, put it out there to be consumed. Third: Put it in some context; give it some values (artistic or social) and make people want to learn more about it, and therefore to learn more of it. Fourth: Repeat and raise it a level. The Ben and Jerry model actually applies quite directly here.
OK. I'm putting my biodegradable, recycled-parts-and-materials soapbox away now and gettin' me some Coffee Heath Bar Crunch.
A whole bunch of Ben and Jerry's trademarks are used quite liberally above. Please visit http://www.benjerry.com/ for more information on those trademarks, and to become a ChunkSpelunker.
Lambert talks about how the global availability of products and information has cost some of the rustic corners of the country their charm, and uses the following example:
"I didn't see much point in going that far to visit L.L. Bean's flagship store in Freeport, Maine, when I knew it so well from its catalogs, or to eat at the original Ben and Jerry's in Waterbury, Vt., when I'm already way too familiar with their ice cream."
Can't speak for the flannel purveyor, but in not stopping by the factory, Lambert missed out on a lot more than just a cup of Cherry Garcia. She missed the chance to see the ingenious layout of the factory (designed with the tourist in mind!); to see how the family-farm and environmentally-conscious mindset of the company extends not only to the product, but to the pallets, the cleaning solutions, the store itself; to hear how the first argument between the founders was about how thorough the mixing tank should be - with one saying "no spoonful should be devoid of chunks and "one saying it's OK as long as the next one has two." Is this terribly important stuff? I don't know. But it was interesting as hell to me, and it put the founders, the products, and company in a wholly different context than I had from just chowing down on the Chubby Hubby.
I'm getting to the point.
I think one reason poetry has an audience that is mostly poets is that most people have the same attitude about poetry that Ms. Lambert has about her ice cream. It's not an incorrect attitude, it's not even a negative one. It's ignorant, but in the most innocuous sense of the word: If you're not aware of the complexity and the context of something, it's often impossible to appreciate it. In a society where the omnipresence of information about a product leads people to conclude that awareness of a subject is binary - to know any is to know all - it behooves producers to make consumers aware of a little of its history, its making, its heritage.
Does this matter if the ice cream stinks? Not at all. But it can create a deeper appreciation for the ice cream if it is deserved.
Poets? While you should let people come to and sample your product willingly, don't just sit back in your Waterburys, letting people think they understand everything about it. First, make sure you know your product is worth consuming. Second, put it out there to be consumed. Third: Put it in some context; give it some values (artistic or social) and make people want to learn more about it, and therefore to learn more of it. Fourth: Repeat and raise it a level. The Ben and Jerry model actually applies quite directly here.
OK. I'm putting my biodegradable, recycled-parts-and-materials soapbox away now and gettin' me some Coffee Heath Bar Crunch.
A whole bunch of Ben and Jerry's trademarks are used quite liberally above. Please visit http://www.benjerry.com/ for more information on those trademarks, and to become a ChunkSpelunker.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Apostrophe Catastrophe?
"Do you adore clean, correct sentences? Do ungrammatical advertisements make you cringe?
We understand completely, and this is why the Society for the Promotion of Good Grammar and Encarta have designated March 4, 2008 as National Grammar Day.
We owe much to our mother tongue. It is through speech and writing that we understand each other and can attend to our needs and differences. If we don't respect and honor the rules of English, we lose our ability to communicate clearly and well with each other. In short, we invite mayhem, misery, madness, and inevitably even more bad things that start with letters other than M."
(via Martha Brockenbrough, a Queen (Martha)Bee at both SPOGG and Encarta)
And now, since I've endorsed this event, I suppose I really ought to write the Silk Road webmaster and ask for an apostrophrectomy.
On that note: Confusing "its" and "it's" I understand. Insisting on using an instrument to adjoin an "s" to a proper noun ("Shall we visit the Vincenti's?") when you don't use it to pluralize a common noun ("Only if they're serving those wrap's!"), I understand less, but OK. But a sign in a bakery like "Come try our bun's" give me an itch I can 't stratch. I just don't want to be imagining the things that their buns might be in possession of.
We understand completely, and this is why the Society for the Promotion of Good Grammar and Encarta have designated March 4, 2008 as National Grammar Day.
We owe much to our mother tongue. It is through speech and writing that we understand each other and can attend to our needs and differences. If we don't respect and honor the rules of English, we lose our ability to communicate clearly and well with each other. In short, we invite mayhem, misery, madness, and inevitably even more bad things that start with letters other than M."
(via Martha Brockenbrough, a Queen (Martha)Bee at both SPOGG and Encarta)
And now, since I've endorsed this event, I suppose I really ought to write the Silk Road webmaster and ask for an apostrophrectomy.
On that note: Confusing "its" and "it's" I understand. Insisting on using an instrument to adjoin an "s" to a proper noun ("Shall we visit the Vincenti's?") when you don't use it to pluralize a common noun ("Only if they're serving those wrap's!"), I understand less, but OK. But a sign in a bakery like "Come try our bun's" give me an itch I can 't stratch. I just don't want to be imagining the things that their buns might be in possession of.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Places and Labels (Pieces and Bits)
Just noticed that the good folks at Silk Road are using my poem to represent Issue One online. I thank them for the honor!
Contributed to a discussion over at Jeanine's place about the use of labels to classify poets. The gist of it was discomfort (ranging as high as offense) with Ron Silliman's use of the phrase "School of Quietude" to lump a lot of "us" together as artists failing to push the boundaries of poetry. You can read the discussion in its original form, but it reminded me of a time I described myself to a more experimental artist as a "mainstream poet", my point being that I tended to write accessibly and narratively. She barked at me: "What the hell is a mainstream poet? If it's poetry, it's not mainstream." That, to me, should be the point: even if we don't like a poem or poetics, if we recognize the craft, we should speak of it with some amount of respect. Using descriptors within the discussion of differences in style for our own purposes should be OK with us.
UOP (Unintended Offense to Poets) #1: Please don't stop at the end of the first line and ask me what it means. I don't stop in the foyer of your home and ask you to explain the coat hooks, do I?
Middle of a tiring week; more to come. But I'm not giving up this posting momentum!
Contributed to a discussion over at Jeanine's place about the use of labels to classify poets. The gist of it was discomfort (ranging as high as offense) with Ron Silliman's use of the phrase "School of Quietude" to lump a lot of "us" together as artists failing to push the boundaries of poetry. You can read the discussion in its original form, but it reminded me of a time I described myself to a more experimental artist as a "mainstream poet", my point being that I tended to write accessibly and narratively. She barked at me: "What the hell is a mainstream poet? If it's poetry, it's not mainstream." That, to me, should be the point: even if we don't like a poem or poetics, if we recognize the craft, we should speak of it with some amount of respect. Using descriptors within the discussion of differences in style for our own purposes should be OK with us.
UOP (Unintended Offense to Poets) #1: Please don't stop at the end of the first line and ask me what it means. I don't stop in the foyer of your home and ask you to explain the coat hooks, do I?
Middle of a tiring week; more to come. But I'm not giving up this posting momentum!
Friday, January 18, 2008
Ought Eight, Part Six
Is it a truism that the busier you get, the more time you seem to have? I know for me, when I'm forced to flex my organizational skills the most, I tend to be apply them most effectively. So here I am, averaging a post every 3 days - by far my most communicative since launching this enterprise so long ago - at the same time as I'm ramping up at a satisfying rate on the day job, managing a more complex home schedule than is typical for me, actually reading some of the books in my queue, and even spent an hour (pun alert) fiddling around with songwriting, which I haven't touched in years.
If I can bowl a deuce and the Giants win Sunday, it just might be a perfect month.
The problem with all this efficiency, of course, is that it breeds opportunity, which brings with it more work. So when I was approached earlier this month about doing some grammar school poetry workshops, I couldn't resist the urge to revisit my prepackaged programs, refresh the anthologies I like to use, polish the writing exercises a little, etc. So instead of kicking back with a Blue Moon and some Numb3rs tonight, I'll be cleaning up the Burgess-Meredith-worthy piles of poetry and teaching books around the couch so my family can get near the TV tomorrow. I should know better.
But all the fiddling reminded me of the best advice I got as I was starting out with poetry workshops, which (oversimplified) is "Don't work so hard. Get the kids writing". For me, this simplifies the lesson plan: (1) Create energy. (2) Promote interest in poetry. (3) Get out of the way. Fortunately, the teachers I've worked with in the past (and present) have the same basic idea - and are sensitive to beating interest in poetry out of their students with curricula too focused on the "right answer".
That doesn't mean that this next book doesn't have a better example of rhythm and assonance, though....
If I can bowl a deuce and the Giants win Sunday, it just might be a perfect month.
The problem with all this efficiency, of course, is that it breeds opportunity, which brings with it more work. So when I was approached earlier this month about doing some grammar school poetry workshops, I couldn't resist the urge to revisit my prepackaged programs, refresh the anthologies I like to use, polish the writing exercises a little, etc. So instead of kicking back with a Blue Moon and some Numb3rs tonight, I'll be cleaning up the Burgess-Meredith-worthy piles of poetry and teaching books around the couch so my family can get near the TV tomorrow. I should know better.
But all the fiddling reminded me of the best advice I got as I was starting out with poetry workshops, which (oversimplified) is "Don't work so hard. Get the kids writing". For me, this simplifies the lesson plan: (1) Create energy. (2) Promote interest in poetry. (3) Get out of the way. Fortunately, the teachers I've worked with in the past (and present) have the same basic idea - and are sensitive to beating interest in poetry out of their students with curricula too focused on the "right answer".
That doesn't mean that this next book doesn't have a better example of rhythm and assonance, though....
Monday, January 14, 2008
Changes & Miscellany
For those keeping track on your Detective Note Sheets, there are a few recent changes to the column that disappears off the page to your right. I deleted few links to blogs of folks taking permanent or externally imposed hiatuses, and included some more compatriot art links in the Useful Sites section. Which reminds me, I just got an update from my ENIAC administrator that my main site is in need of update. Need a new cursor for my slide rule, too.
I need to apologize the good folks who have added me as friends in Goodreads. I just haven't thought to post reviews there, and I admit to having the "if you can't say anything nice" switch toggled on in my internal editor at the moment. But I'm centrally located between started and done on a variety of Christmas presents at the moment, and promise a writeup on at least one of them this month.
I'm thinking if the Giants and the Bolts can get that far, maybe I can win that contest I entered.
Saw several "seven things" lists on other bloggers' sites recently, and I started two of my own: "Seven things you should never say first after finishing a friend's new poem", and "Seven reasons engineers should make good poets". One list I'm having trouble pruning to seven, one list I'm stuck at two. You decide which is which. And come back later this week to see one of them posted.
I need to apologize the good folks who have added me as friends in Goodreads. I just haven't thought to post reviews there, and I admit to having the "if you can't say anything nice" switch toggled on in my internal editor at the moment. But I'm centrally located between started and done on a variety of Christmas presents at the moment, and promise a writeup on at least one of them this month.
I'm thinking if the Giants and the Bolts can get that far, maybe I can win that contest I entered.
Saw several "seven things" lists on other bloggers' sites recently, and I started two of my own: "Seven things you should never say first after finishing a friend's new poem", and "Seven reasons engineers should make good poets". One list I'm having trouble pruning to seven, one list I'm stuck at two. You decide which is which. And come back later this week to see one of them posted.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Eighteen
Randomness at the end of a long week. Click away now if you're looking for something profound.
For the first time in 18 years, I woke up this morning NOT owning a car made by The Ford Motor Company. For all of you who are thinking Fix Or Repair Daily otherwise Found On Road Dead, let me state clearly: I know you have ample data to support your sneers, but my two Fords served me well for a total of 215,000 miles. Actually, my Tempo was much more reliable than my Focus, but both were more than adequate for me.
Got to thinking what else was different about me 18 years ago. Wasn't married yet, so it's hard to even consider that person I was back then me. I hadn't yet submitted anything for publication other than to my college litmag. As I look back at what I was writing then, there's generally about 2 lines in each "poem" that's still interesting to me. A couple of pieces still work as a whole, but what characterizes my work today is not evident in those poems. Indeed, the ones that work are the farthest departures from my style then and my style now - experiments that found something that worked.
That year did plant the seeds for work that is just sprouting recently, though. My relationship with my father changed - for a significant number of reasons - that year. Since his death a few years agoI've started to realize all the whens and whys of those changes. Some of these have work their way into some poems. Forgetting some of the subject matter was even more fictional then than it is in the poem, I could never have written this in 1990.
It would be interesting to have someone who doesn't know me well compare this to my early dreck and tell me what's changed, and if it's as much for the better as I think. But I'm not ready to share all the dreck yet. Maybe in 18 years.
{Sorry, this poem has been deleted}
For the first time in 18 years, I woke up this morning NOT owning a car made by The Ford Motor Company. For all of you who are thinking Fix Or Repair Daily otherwise Found On Road Dead, let me state clearly: I know you have ample data to support your sneers, but my two Fords served me well for a total of 215,000 miles. Actually, my Tempo was much more reliable than my Focus, but both were more than adequate for me.
Got to thinking what else was different about me 18 years ago. Wasn't married yet, so it's hard to even consider that person I was back then me. I hadn't yet submitted anything for publication other than to my college litmag. As I look back at what I was writing then, there's generally about 2 lines in each "poem" that's still interesting to me. A couple of pieces still work as a whole, but what characterizes my work today is not evident in those poems. Indeed, the ones that work are the farthest departures from my style then and my style now - experiments that found something that worked.
That year did plant the seeds for work that is just sprouting recently, though. My relationship with my father changed - for a significant number of reasons - that year. Since his death a few years agoI've started to realize all the whens and whys of those changes. Some of these have work their way into some poems. Forgetting some of the subject matter was even more fictional then than it is in the poem, I could never have written this in 1990.
It would be interesting to have someone who doesn't know me well compare this to my early dreck and tell me what's changed, and if it's as much for the better as I think. But I'm not ready to share all the dreck yet. Maybe in 18 years.
{Sorry, this poem has been deleted}
Saturday, January 05, 2008
Changed Your Mind?
John Horgan this week posted his answer to Edge.org's The Question for 2008: "WHAT HAVE YOU CHANGED YOUR MIND ABOUT? WHY?"
Interestingly, The Question is prefaced with:
"When thinking changes your mind, that's philosophy.
When God changes your mind, that's faith.
When facts change your mind, that's science."
I don't 100% agree with this - there are facts outside the realm of science, after all - but it's close enough for the set up of an interesting question.
Like most dabblers*, I change my mind a lot as I acquire more information about an area of interest. Over the years, some of my more surprising evidence-based mind changes have involved men's gymnastics, the musical Cabaret, Bill Clinton, and the color yellow. As far as the literary arts go, here's one I've been changing my mind on, with some decisions made this year:
In the debate on "Spoken Word" versus "poetry", Diane Lockward recently commented (essentially) that works which entertain the ear but don't work on the page are missing an element necessary to define them as poetry. She's right, and here's the learning I've acquired this year. There are three buckets in this debate: Poems which are successful on the page and to the year, poems which are less successful in one or the other of page and ear but which essential contain the craft elements of both, and entertainments which are called poems but are more performance arts that lack elements of poetic craft.
Bucket 3's pretty easy to define: Think Def Poetry Jam, which is 75% entertainments. The other buckets are subjective, but I bet you can name a few poets for each one right off the top of your head. You can read the list of performers at the 2006 Dodge Festival and populate all three buckets quite easily.
Where I've changed my mind is in the acceptance of bucket 3. It's fine for me to internally note that what I'm hearing or reading is not poetry, but it's not necessary for me to set up flares around it and discredit it for anyone else. In fact, if I can use an entertainment to lure someone a step closer to the recognition of poetic craft, then it's served a purpose valuable to poetry, for which God bless it. It's like using the singsongy verse of early childhood to learn a vocabulary and appreciation for poems. Or like using the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to get a child to ask "Who was the real Donatello?" Maybe that last bit's a stretch.
Anyway, take a look at the (more meaningful) answers at Edge. It's dominated by science-related posts (which is very interesting for me, of course), but I trust there's something for everyone there. I'm disturbed at the infuriating misquote of Emerson a little way down the page, which was used by the Toronto Star to discuss The Question, but I suppose that's a personal problem.
Quick aside: Five days and 12 signatures into the new year, and I haven't written "'07" yet! Go, me! And Happy New Year again!
* - a dabbler in this sense is someone who discovers a topic and becomes progressively more immersed until his or her opinions become better informed, but who doesn't hold back those opinions in the interim. Think of an amateur Asimov.
Interestingly, The Question is prefaced with:
"When thinking changes your mind, that's philosophy.
When God changes your mind, that's faith.
When facts change your mind, that's science."
I don't 100% agree with this - there are facts outside the realm of science, after all - but it's close enough for the set up of an interesting question.
Like most dabblers*, I change my mind a lot as I acquire more information about an area of interest. Over the years, some of my more surprising evidence-based mind changes have involved men's gymnastics, the musical Cabaret, Bill Clinton, and the color yellow. As far as the literary arts go, here's one I've been changing my mind on, with some decisions made this year:
In the debate on "Spoken Word" versus "poetry", Diane Lockward recently commented (essentially) that works which entertain the ear but don't work on the page are missing an element necessary to define them as poetry. She's right, and here's the learning I've acquired this year. There are three buckets in this debate: Poems which are successful on the page and to the year, poems which are less successful in one or the other of page and ear but which essential contain the craft elements of both, and entertainments which are called poems but are more performance arts that lack elements of poetic craft.
Bucket 3's pretty easy to define: Think Def Poetry Jam, which is 75% entertainments. The other buckets are subjective, but I bet you can name a few poets for each one right off the top of your head. You can read the list of performers at the 2006 Dodge Festival and populate all three buckets quite easily.
Where I've changed my mind is in the acceptance of bucket 3. It's fine for me to internally note that what I'm hearing or reading is not poetry, but it's not necessary for me to set up flares around it and discredit it for anyone else. In fact, if I can use an entertainment to lure someone a step closer to the recognition of poetic craft, then it's served a purpose valuable to poetry, for which God bless it. It's like using the singsongy verse of early childhood to learn a vocabulary and appreciation for poems. Or like using the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles to get a child to ask "Who was the real Donatello?" Maybe that last bit's a stretch.
Anyway, take a look at the (more meaningful) answers at Edge. It's dominated by science-related posts (which is very interesting for me, of course), but I trust there's something for everyone there. I'm disturbed at the infuriating misquote of Emerson a little way down the page, which was used by the Toronto Star to discuss The Question, but I suppose that's a personal problem.
Quick aside: Five days and 12 signatures into the new year, and I haven't written "'07" yet! Go, me! And Happy New Year again!
* - a dabbler in this sense is someone who discovers a topic and becomes progressively more immersed until his or her opinions become better informed, but who doesn't hold back those opinions in the interim. Think of an amateur Asimov.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Ms. Gillan's Grandmother
Delighted to find a poem by Maria Gillan on today's Writer's Almanac. She reads this one frequently (or at least, I've heard her read it a few times here in The Jersey) . Nice to have the King of Ordinary recognize.
A bit from the middle, formatted improperly, as always:
.....Was her heart a bitter
raisin, her anger so deep
it could have cut a road through the mountain? I touch the
tablecloth she made,
the delicate scrollwork, try to reach back to Donna Laura, feel
her life shaping itself into laced patterns
and scalloped edges from all those years between her young
womanhood and old age.
A bit from the middle, formatted improperly, as always:
.....Was her heart a bitter
raisin, her anger so deep
it could have cut a road through the mountain? I touch the
tablecloth she made,
the delicate scrollwork, try to reach back to Donna Laura, feel
her life shaping itself into laced patterns
and scalloped edges from all those years between her young
womanhood and old age.
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Resolutions, Part 1
Happy new year!
I hope all six of my loyal readers have had a great holiday season and are poised for a great 2008.
I'll be back soon to begin acting out my NYR's, which include:
Reposting on the relationship between writing and playing chess. It's really simpler than I made it.
Finishing any one of the drafts I started sitting in the airport when my mother's plane was delayed before Christmas. Maybe even posting one here.
Sending out overdue submissions.
Ceasing to worry if my chapbook contest submission actually arrived in December. I mean, it had to. Surely, right?
I hope all six of my loyal readers have had a great holiday season and are poised for a great 2008.
I'll be back soon to begin acting out my NYR's, which include:
Reposting on the relationship between writing and playing chess. It's really simpler than I made it.
Finishing any one of the drafts I started sitting in the airport when my mother's plane was delayed before Christmas. Maybe even posting one here.
Sending out overdue submissions.
Ceasing to worry if my chapbook contest submission actually arrived in December. I mean, it had to. Surely, right?
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Christmas Dance
Panic in your face, you write questions
to ask him. When he arrives,
you are serene, your fear
unbetrayed. How unlike me you are.
Maria Mazziotti Gillan, the great talent who has given me (and many others here in NJ) much to learn from as both artist and host is represented by her poem "My Daughter at 14: Christmas Dance" this week at The Writer's Almanac (first stanza above).
Reminds me: Time to get cracking on that old yuletide versification. Check back near Chrismas and see if I found something to write about.
to ask him. When he arrives,
you are serene, your fear
unbetrayed. How unlike me you are.
Maria Mazziotti Gillan, the great talent who has given me (and many others here in NJ) much to learn from as both artist and host is represented by her poem "My Daughter at 14: Christmas Dance" this week at The Writer's Almanac (first stanza above).
Reminds me: Time to get cracking on that old yuletide versification. Check back near Chrismas and see if I found something to write about.
Friday, December 07, 2007
Science = Metaphor?
Via Ron Silliman, I just finished reading an interview with Rae Armantrout wherein she says
I find that thinking about contemporary science takes us to the border of what we imagine we know—which is a good place for poetry to be. Science generally ignores poetry, of course. But science, like all human communication, depends on metaphors. I sometimes think scientists would do well to study poetry to become more conscious of the way metaphors work.
My first instinct was to say "umm, no." Science, in the sense of discovering the laws of nature, is the opposite of metaphor. It's the paring down of all interactions until unalterable truths are stated a minimum of ambiguity. But articulating that thought made me realize that this is not necessarily the opposite of metaphor. In fact, the demonstration of scientific findings to nonexperts through models and simulation does seem to be to contain some of the stuff of metaphor. And in that sense, Ms. Armanttrout is right: scientists could benefit from a fluency in meatphor to express their concepts better outside the fraternity of technogists.
I have drafted a Grade 6-8 program called "Poetry and Science" in which I use science concepts as poem starters and exercises. This simple statement has me thinking I could also go the other way: Start with language that captures a nugget of a scientific concept and have students expand on it, seeing if they get close to the law described or not, and discussing what the process teaches about separating "fact" from "idea" in the poem.
Interesting....
I find that thinking about contemporary science takes us to the border of what we imagine we know—which is a good place for poetry to be. Science generally ignores poetry, of course. But science, like all human communication, depends on metaphors. I sometimes think scientists would do well to study poetry to become more conscious of the way metaphors work.
My first instinct was to say "umm, no." Science, in the sense of discovering the laws of nature, is the opposite of metaphor. It's the paring down of all interactions until unalterable truths are stated a minimum of ambiguity. But articulating that thought made me realize that this is not necessarily the opposite of metaphor. In fact, the demonstration of scientific findings to nonexperts through models and simulation does seem to be to contain some of the stuff of metaphor. And in that sense, Ms. Armanttrout is right: scientists could benefit from a fluency in meatphor to express their concepts better outside the fraternity of technogists.
I have drafted a Grade 6-8 program called "Poetry and Science" in which I use science concepts as poem starters and exercises. This simple statement has me thinking I could also go the other way: Start with language that captures a nugget of a scientific concept and have students expand on it, seeing if they get close to the law described or not, and discussing what the process teaches about separating "fact" from "idea" in the poem.
Interesting....
Monday, December 03, 2007
Salmon Revives the Poem of the Week
Jessie Lendennie's mailing list came back to life this week with a sample from the newly released Salmon: A Journey in Poery 1981 - 2007. I discovered Salmon searching for the poems of Ray Bradbury a while back and am glad the Salmon Poem of the Week is active again.
Salmon Poetry (not to be confuse with salmony poetry) is primarily a publisher of contemporary Irish Poetry, though as the Bradbury book confirms, they are open to other authors writing in English, and they have an Advice for Writers page that's pretty good as a refernce for beginners.
This week's poem, celebrating the new anthology is "The Day The Horizon Disappeared", by Nadya Aisenberg:
Cast out, flung to the furthest rim of neediness,
then caught there in the branches of the danger tree,
where meaning dwells, out of reach, attached
on its green stem at the very edge of dreaming,
a sign repeating itself through branches
surging in air. Wind surrounds and blows through us.
And whose hand is tearing strips from the sky,
And whose hand will seed wild grasses
on the worn nap of the threadbare world?
Salmon Poetry (not to be confuse with salmony poetry) is primarily a publisher of contemporary Irish Poetry, though as the Bradbury book confirms, they are open to other authors writing in English, and they have an Advice for Writers page that's pretty good as a refernce for beginners.
This week's poem, celebrating the new anthology is "The Day The Horizon Disappeared", by Nadya Aisenberg:
Cast out, flung to the furthest rim of neediness,
then caught there in the branches of the danger tree,
where meaning dwells, out of reach, attached
on its green stem at the very edge of dreaming,
a sign repeating itself through branches
surging in air. Wind surrounds and blows through us.
And whose hand is tearing strips from the sky,
And whose hand will seed wild grasses
on the worn nap of the threadbare world?
Saturday, December 01, 2007
Thoughts on the way back from the Post Office
Why are they removing the stamp machine?
Do people really buy their envelopes standing in line to send their mail?
Did I spell the editor's name right?
Wow, the Christmas stamps are of questionable artistic merit this year.
Did that guy really expect his Hummer to fit in that spot?
Wait a minute -- I just entered a chapbook contest! What did I do?!?!
Hey, look - a Twix bar!
Do people really buy their envelopes standing in line to send their mail?
Did I spell the editor's name right?
Wow, the Christmas stamps are of questionable artistic merit this year.
Did that guy really expect his Hummer to fit in that spot?
Wait a minute -- I just entered a chapbook contest! What did I do?!?!
Hey, look - a Twix bar!
Thursday, November 29, 2007
What I keep forgetting
"A poet's pleasure is to withhold a little of his meaning, to intensify by mystification. He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it."(E. B. White)
This was a recent Poetry Calendar page, and it comes at a good time, reminding me of an important variable to consider in the final selection of poems for the chapbook contest (deadline Saturday!) that I've finally decided to enter. Fewer qualms about this submission than past ones, as it's a contest that gives me a better "in" than most contests, but I've set expectations to - 0 - as usual.
This is an interesting challenge for the writer who has technical writing among their other disciplines (eg: as their day job) - to be able to move seamlessly from the necessarily complete to the delibertely incomplete. Jeff and Jeannine have credentials that suggest it is possible, so I have hope.
Anyway, check back in Monday and see if I made it to the post office!
This was a recent Poetry Calendar page, and it comes at a good time, reminding me of an important variable to consider in the final selection of poems for the chapbook contest (deadline Saturday!) that I've finally decided to enter. Fewer qualms about this submission than past ones, as it's a contest that gives me a better "in" than most contests, but I've set expectations to - 0 - as usual.
This is an interesting challenge for the writer who has technical writing among their other disciplines (eg: as their day job) - to be able to move seamlessly from the necessarily complete to the delibertely incomplete. Jeff and Jeannine have credentials that suggest it is possible, so I have hope.
Anyway, check back in Monday and see if I made it to the post office!
Monday, November 26, 2007
Twas Brillig... Good Grief!
How have I never noticed Lewis Carroll and Charles Schulz share a birthday? Surely this means something. I have always loved and recited Jabberwocky, and I've quoted Peanuts almost constantly since grade school (don't tell anyone, though, lest my apparent wisdom be diminished).
Nah, you're right probably means nothing at all.
Nah, you're right probably means nothing at all.
Friday, November 23, 2007
In Which I Admit I'm a Turkey But Move On Past Thanksgiving Regardless...
Geez, another month off for me. I sense a new year's resolution coming on. Anyway. Things of note?
My kids have been getting a long introduction to the fine art of storytelling listening to two of the best: Joseph Bruchac and Dovie Thomason. I've heard both at the Dodge and find them to be outstanding at their craft. It's really quite remarkable to see the impact good storytelling can have with a creative child.
The kids have also been working on what may be the best project ever at school. Every two months, they (essentially) have to "scrapbook" two pages of poetry. It can be original or researched, and the only rule is it can't all come from "The Internet". The one rule is, I guess, encouragement not be lazy in research; there wasn't any risk of that in this house. We're having a great time with it. I'm late in joining in, but I think starting in December, I'll join them and use this space as my scrapbook.
Me, well, busy with new stuff on the day job and recently completed a couple of family projects of some importance, so the usual comment of "many good excuses" applies. However, I've also found time to weed the manuscript down for chapbook contest submission with a December 1 deadline in mind. It's in the "settling stage", where I leave it in the briefcase for a couple days undisturbed and hope it still feels done when I look at it again Sunday. I'll let you know then.
Oh, and you should definitely read Matthew Baldwon's consiedarion of the point of giving thanks.
Condifential to the radical left: Permit yourself to remember the joys while others ritualize the sorrows. This is the gift you are best poised to bring.
My kids have been getting a long introduction to the fine art of storytelling listening to two of the best: Joseph Bruchac and Dovie Thomason. I've heard both at the Dodge and find them to be outstanding at their craft. It's really quite remarkable to see the impact good storytelling can have with a creative child.
The kids have also been working on what may be the best project ever at school. Every two months, they (essentially) have to "scrapbook" two pages of poetry. It can be original or researched, and the only rule is it can't all come from "The Internet". The one rule is, I guess, encouragement not be lazy in research; there wasn't any risk of that in this house. We're having a great time with it. I'm late in joining in, but I think starting in December, I'll join them and use this space as my scrapbook.
Me, well, busy with new stuff on the day job and recently completed a couple of family projects of some importance, so the usual comment of "many good excuses" applies. However, I've also found time to weed the manuscript down for chapbook contest submission with a December 1 deadline in mind. It's in the "settling stage", where I leave it in the briefcase for a couple days undisturbed and hope it still feels done when I look at it again Sunday. I'll let you know then.
Oh, and you should definitely read Matthew Baldwon's consiedarion of the point of giving thanks.
Condifential to the radical left: Permit yourself to remember the joys while others ritualize the sorrows. This is the gift you are best poised to bring.
Friday, November 02, 2007
Gastroanomintime for Christmas!
Hurray! James Lileks' new book, Gastroanomalies, is being released in time for Christmas, and can be preordered now for early December deliveries. If you haven't read The Gallery of Regrettable Food, Interior Desecrations, or Mommy Knows Worst, you are the poorer for it. There are some online samples of those first two books - revivals of bad 50's cookbooks and the best (by which I mean the worst) of 70's living rooms - on Lileks' website - go read them, then go order the books!
Not convinced? Here's the intro from Interior Desecrations' online adjunct ("Horrible Homes from the Brass Age of American Design")
Sweet smokin’ Judas, what were they thinking? Welcome back to Interior Desecrations, a brutal examination of the unlovely, unattractive, unlivable and unforgivable homes of the 1970s. All eras have some bad taste, of course – but it took the 70s to make bad taste triumphant and universal. It took the 70s to convince everyone to stick foil wallpaper on the wall, paint the bathtub purple, smother the floors in shag so deep it tickled the tops of your ankles, and hang art that managed to clash with everything, including itself. I mean, look at this picture – what is that? A dissected Rubiks’s Cube attempts to threaten a potted plant and his child, I guess. Love the rug, too. They didn’t even make AMC cars in those color combinations. They didn’t dare.
Don't tell me you don't want to see the photo that inspired this. You know you do.
Not convinced? Here's the intro from Interior Desecrations' online adjunct ("Horrible Homes from the Brass Age of American Design")
Sweet smokin’ Judas, what were they thinking? Welcome back to Interior Desecrations, a brutal examination of the unlovely, unattractive, unlivable and unforgivable homes of the 1970s. All eras have some bad taste, of course – but it took the 70s to make bad taste triumphant and universal. It took the 70s to convince everyone to stick foil wallpaper on the wall, paint the bathtub purple, smother the floors in shag so deep it tickled the tops of your ankles, and hang art that managed to clash with everything, including itself. I mean, look at this picture – what is that? A dissected Rubiks’s Cube attempts to threaten a potted plant and his child, I guess. Love the rug, too. They didn’t even make AMC cars in those color combinations. They didn’t dare.
Don't tell me you don't want to see the photo that inspired this. You know you do.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Where Does The Time Go When It's Not Around Here?
(apologies to the great Barenaked Ladies for appropriating one of their myriad brilliant lines)
Oh, good gracious, My posting habits have led me deep into Jets Country now: well beyond the point of excuses. What's been going on:
The Spoken Word Series continues. If you're near Hoboken this Sunday, please join me at Symposia Bookstore at 3PM to hear from the prolific and talented Kate Greenstreet. This will be my first live hosting appearance of the season; my gracious co-host Siobhan Barry-Bratcher has handled the first two installments. The February reading will mark year seven for us. I hear that's an accomplishment; regardless of others' opinions, I know I'm proud to have gotten this far.
Would love to say I've been voraciously reading and spewing poems by the ream, but that would be complete salmon. I have been working on a project that combines several sides of my pu-pu-platter of a personality, but I shan't discuss that here yet for fear of releasing its energy.
And finally, I happened across an online copy of one of my favorite poems, Meg Kearney's "Creed". This poem, which according to Meg was inspired by a similar idea from Jack Wiler, was one of the key bits of kindling in the ultimate revival of my college writing hobby. Read this poem and then spend a few quite minutes letting it settle over you. I hope it does for you what it did for me, and does again every time I read it.
Oh, good gracious, My posting habits have led me deep into Jets Country now: well beyond the point of excuses. What's been going on:
The Spoken Word Series continues. If you're near Hoboken this Sunday, please join me at Symposia Bookstore at 3PM to hear from the prolific and talented Kate Greenstreet. This will be my first live hosting appearance of the season; my gracious co-host Siobhan Barry-Bratcher has handled the first two installments. The February reading will mark year seven for us. I hear that's an accomplishment; regardless of others' opinions, I know I'm proud to have gotten this far.
Would love to say I've been voraciously reading and spewing poems by the ream, but that would be complete salmon. I have been working on a project that combines several sides of my pu-pu-platter of a personality, but I shan't discuss that here yet for fear of releasing its energy.
And finally, I happened across an online copy of one of my favorite poems, Meg Kearney's "Creed". This poem, which according to Meg was inspired by a similar idea from Jack Wiler, was one of the key bits of kindling in the ultimate revival of my college writing hobby. Read this poem and then spend a few quite minutes letting it settle over you. I hope it does for you what it did for me, and does again every time I read it.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
The Sonnet of the Strong Safety
"Sport is not considered art. Instead, it is invariably dismissed as something lesser — even something rather more vulgar — than the more traditional performance activities."
Really exceptional piece by the great Frank Deford today asking why sport isn't considered an art, or at least a field of study for students who wish to become expert. I'm still processing my opinion, but I think it's a great question. Especially when you think of how cerebral some sports have become, the way that understanding of probability and of prowess have become inextricably linked - especially when you think of the volume of study that goes into understanding of techniques and methods for both coaching and training, I think there's a valid question here. No, I'm not saying every student athlete should be permitted to take courses like "Linebacking 101", but that there may be a field of study behind all the sweat.
Having had success as an instructor and coach in both technological and artistic endeavor, and understanding first hand the disdain instructors on each side have had for the "softness" of the curriculum on the other, I'm open to the idea that there's a football curriculum waiting to be designed.
Maybe it will even explain how coaches who haven't seen a sonnet since tenth grade can use phrases like "poetry in motion" to explain the grace of a wide receiver at the apex of his leap, mean it as the highest of compliments, then tell their students poetry is for dweebs...
Really exceptional piece by the great Frank Deford today asking why sport isn't considered an art, or at least a field of study for students who wish to become expert. I'm still processing my opinion, but I think it's a great question. Especially when you think of how cerebral some sports have become, the way that understanding of probability and of prowess have become inextricably linked - especially when you think of the volume of study that goes into understanding of techniques and methods for both coaching and training, I think there's a valid question here. No, I'm not saying every student athlete should be permitted to take courses like "Linebacking 101", but that there may be a field of study behind all the sweat.
Having had success as an instructor and coach in both technological and artistic endeavor, and understanding first hand the disdain instructors on each side have had for the "softness" of the curriculum on the other, I'm open to the idea that there's a football curriculum waiting to be designed.
Maybe it will even explain how coaches who haven't seen a sonnet since tenth grade can use phrases like "poetry in motion" to explain the grace of a wide receiver at the apex of his leap, mean it as the highest of compliments, then tell their students poetry is for dweebs...
Saturday, October 06, 2007
Thursday, October 04, 2007
A Geekity Gold Mine
In a spare moment this week I was looking for online instructions for the Faber-Castell slide rule inherited from my father (which replaced the junior version he gave me when I was 6), and I happened across (by way of the unaffiliated MoHPC) the online repository the HP Journal - a magazine presenting the technological advances produced by the scientists and engineers at that illustrious company. Few companies have been as successful as HP has over the years at reducing to practice (which isn't quite the same thing as innovating, just as technology isn't the same thing as science - but I digress) and if you're at all interested in the technological advances of the past 40 years, you MUST go look through these great journals.
My favorite find so far: an interview with the team lead for the development of the first "electronic calculator", discussing the industrial design requirements to keep the device "pocket sized", and how it "would eventually be competitive" with the slide rule despite its $395 price tag.
That's 395 in 1973 dollars, by the way.
The same page also provides access to the Digital journal, which takes me back to being thrown out of my high school's computer lab because sophomores couldn't be trusted at the PDP-11 terminals; that privilege was reserved for seniors. Good times, good times....
Thanks to the Hewlett-Packard company for making these available.
And yes, I am this big a nerd, and I can still use my slide rule a little. Don't believe me? Multiplication: C over D, cursor on C, read on D. So there.
Anyone up for a little Reverse Polish Poetry?
My favorite find so far: an interview with the team lead for the development of the first "electronic calculator", discussing the industrial design requirements to keep the device "pocket sized", and how it "would eventually be competitive" with the slide rule despite its $395 price tag.
That's 395 in 1973 dollars, by the way.
The same page also provides access to the Digital journal, which takes me back to being thrown out of my high school's computer lab because sophomores couldn't be trusted at the PDP-11 terminals; that privilege was reserved for seniors. Good times, good times....
Thanks to the Hewlett-Packard company for making these available.
And yes, I am this big a nerd, and I can still use my slide rule a little. Don't believe me? Multiplication: C over D, cursor on C, read on D. So there.
Anyone up for a little Reverse Polish Poetry?
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
I just need a minute...
Someone get FPA on the line, and see what he thinks of Tom Glavine.
This is the greatest of September swoons
Somebody wake up The Mets
Looking for pitchers? Hire some baboons -
That just might wake up The Mets
Ruthlessly rushing like men late for dinner
Acting like Marlins are saints, Mets the sinners
Somehow converting the Phils into winners
Oh just shut up 'bout my Mets.
(With apologies to Tinker, Evers, and Chance and their claim to fame, I think this verse is of roughly the same quality as Jose Reyes' final at bat this year.)
Like Willie, I will be back next year, but oh Sweet Myrtle how this one hurts.
Thank Heaven I have Gang Green to root for now. That should keep me occupied until Halloween.
This is the greatest of September swoons
Somebody wake up The Mets
Looking for pitchers? Hire some baboons -
That just might wake up The Mets
Ruthlessly rushing like men late for dinner
Acting like Marlins are saints, Mets the sinners
Somehow converting the Phils into winners
Oh just shut up 'bout my Mets.
(With apologies to Tinker, Evers, and Chance and their claim to fame, I think this verse is of roughly the same quality as Jose Reyes' final at bat this year.)
Like Willie, I will be back next year, but oh Sweet Myrtle how this one hurts.
Thank Heaven I have Gang Green to root for now. That should keep me occupied until Halloween.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Wisdom from Parker and Hood
Smile, and the World will smile back at you;
Aim with a grin and you cannot miss;
Laugh off your woes, and you won't feel blue.
(Poetry pays when it's done like this.)
Reading Not Much Fun - The lost poems of Dorothy Parker, which after a quick thumbing seems more interesting for its abbreviated biography than Parker's poems. But she had a great gift for pun, which (for me) is always worth a closer look.
Great dialog about "giving up writing" over at first draft. I'm not really enough of a writer to be taken seriously when I propose to give it up, but the writers engaged in discussion in that corner of the world have some insights you might be interested in.
Aim with a grin and you cannot miss;
Laugh off your woes, and you won't feel blue.
(Poetry pays when it's done like this.)
Reading Not Much Fun - The lost poems of Dorothy Parker, which after a quick thumbing seems more interesting for its abbreviated biography than Parker's poems. But she had a great gift for pun, which (for me) is always worth a closer look.
Great dialog about "giving up writing" over at first draft. I'm not really enough of a writer to be taken seriously when I propose to give it up, but the writers engaged in discussion in that corner of the world have some insights you might be interested in.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Two weeks later, the phone rings....
Oy. Just when you feel like you've got time to pick up a book.
Numerous good things this weekend if you're puttering around NJ looking for poetry:
George Witte and Tina Kelley are reading at 1978 Maplewood Arts Center on Friday night.
Opposite them, unfortunately, Joel Allegretti relaunches the North Jersey Literary Series at Blend Cafe in Rutherford (note courtesy of the never-idle John J. Trause, who also support poetry at the Williams Center). Of course, you could catch George and Tina and still make Joel's late set
And just in case this isn't enough poetry for one weekend, spend Saturday at the Warren County Poetry Festival. Linda Pastan, Kurtis Lamkin.... something for everyone, guaranteed.
As for me, I need to get to the TV immediately...
Numerous good things this weekend if you're puttering around NJ looking for poetry:
George Witte and Tina Kelley are reading at 1978 Maplewood Arts Center on Friday night.
Opposite them, unfortunately, Joel Allegretti relaunches the North Jersey Literary Series at Blend Cafe in Rutherford (note courtesy of the never-idle John J. Trause, who also support poetry at the Williams Center). Of course, you could catch George and Tina and still make Joel's late set
And just in case this isn't enough poetry for one weekend, spend Saturday at the Warren County Poetry Festival. Linda Pastan, Kurtis Lamkin.... something for everyone, guaranteed.
As for me, I need to get to the TV immediately...
Saturday, September 15, 2007
A Word From My Inner Ed Sullivan
One marvelous thing about hosting the Spoken Word Series is that I get a chance to meet some extraordinary artists and to have them play for a moment in my sandbox (they bring their own sand, of course, and take it with them when they leave, but now I've completely shattered what was once a promising metaphor).
Anyway, there have been a couple times - just a couple - when the series has been a small part of a truly remarkable artistic moment, and I heard recently from visual artist Nancy Tobin of the continuing momentum of one of those moments.
Last year, due to that magical combination of serendipity and familial obligation (just kidding!), we were able to host a collaboration between Nancy and the great Jerome Rothenberg as part of the Visible Word, an annual event at which we select visual artists and solicit new ekphrastic (sp?) poetry in response to their art. That collaboration is now available in a beautiful edition through SPD, and their joint work is also part of an exciting anthology called "Viz Inter-arts Event A Trans-genre Anthology".
By the way, not only are these terrific pieces of verbal and visual art for to have on my shelf. Also, for me, these books will be reminders of having had the chance to meet and work with Nancy and Jerome, who were just phenomenally friendly and accommodating throughout the process. I don't mean to imply that my offer of a stage and some wall space was essential to their creations. But I respect the legacy of the Really Big Shoeman enough to know how special it is to be there at those great moments in the arts. Even if all you do is recite the names and step to the left.
Anyway, there have been a couple times - just a couple - when the series has been a small part of a truly remarkable artistic moment, and I heard recently from visual artist Nancy Tobin of the continuing momentum of one of those moments.
Last year, due to that magical combination of serendipity and familial obligation (just kidding!), we were able to host a collaboration between Nancy and the great Jerome Rothenberg as part of the Visible Word, an annual event at which we select visual artists and solicit new ekphrastic (sp?) poetry in response to their art. That collaboration is now available in a beautiful edition through SPD, and their joint work is also part of an exciting anthology called "Viz Inter-arts Event A Trans-genre Anthology".
By the way, not only are these terrific pieces of verbal and visual art for to have on my shelf. Also, for me, these books will be reminders of having had the chance to meet and work with Nancy and Jerome, who were just phenomenally friendly and accommodating throughout the process. I don't mean to imply that my offer of a stage and some wall space was essential to their creations. But I respect the legacy of the Really Big Shoeman enough to know how special it is to be there at those great moments in the arts. Even if all you do is recite the names and step to the left.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Mister Congeniality
Another pleasant and encouraging rejection this week, with a request to try the journal again. I appreciate these notes. I do believe that even form rejections come in flavors - the "What were you thinking?" variety through the "This guy gets it, but just missed" kind, and my most recent rejections were of the latter sort. I have a goal of having two submissions pending at all times, and this last flush brings me back down to one, so it's time to fire the engine back up. I do have to packages to prepare for editors who have requested specific poems they've heard me read - but I'm not letting myself consider those submissions, since even the nicest editors (and these two are just tops in the nice department) don't ask for what they don't want. Back to the portfolio.
Interestingly, both these recent rejected packages contained poems that had once before received the "You're so close..." rejection once previously, and now I'm thinking that my whole body of work tends to fit this description. Maybe it's time to take a serious look at the last couple years' production with this thought in mind. I wonder.
Interestingly, both these recent rejected packages contained poems that had once before received the "You're so close..." rejection once previously, and now I'm thinking that my whole body of work tends to fit this description. Maybe it's time to take a serious look at the last couple years' production with this thought in mind. I wonder.
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Watch the Watch
Spent a lot of time in traffic with my cousins yesterday and - as tends to happen with this bunch - a joke-telling fest was called for. Usually, I find myself sitting back and laughing - I'm a fair storyteller, but don't have a memory or knack for jokes. As things got going, an old joke leaped out of my mental file cabinet and into the room. Happened again a short while later. And when we had a quiet time a few minutes following I realized the connection between the jokes was that my father had told me them both. And a minute after that I looked down at my wrist, at the tuxedo watch I took from my father's jewelry box after he passed away. First time I had worn the watch (at least in a couple years), first time I remembered any jokes during joke time (at least in a couple years).
No, I don't know what that means.
Confidential to Yonkers: My father says "Face it: This one, you hit right".
No, I don't know what that means.
Confidential to Yonkers: My father says "Face it: This one, you hit right".
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Bits II (The Back From Vacation Version)
Just getting back from a week on the gulf coast of Florida, swimming, eating, (two words which interestingly can be easily combined into "sweating") and visiting some great local attractions (among which I do not include the surprisingly many street corners featuring early stumpers for Ron Paul). Didn't keep tabs on the blogroll while away, which seems to have been consistent with the plans of most of my listed-at-right writers.
Some things to regain my momentum for the coming months:
Some things to regain my momentum for the coming months:
- I posted my first review at Goodreads this morning. Just 340 more and I'll have caught up to Jeannine's three-month total (she'll be up to 527 by then).
- On that note, I'm finally getting around to reading some of the books I picked up at the NJ Journals Festival in May. Vacation is good for that, as opposed to work and kids, which had dominated the summer to that point.
- Due to schedule confusions, we had to postpone the annual ekphrasis event of the Spoken Word Series; Robert Milby is our replacement artist for October. Hopefully in the Spring.
- Another thing vacation is good for is writing. I don't know if it's the time, the pressure, or just sufficient marination, but an idea for a poem sequence that I've been kicking around nearly forever burst forth in the form of 6 drafts in 6 days. That's an explosion of output for me, and its momentum dragged forth 2 drafts on unrelated subjects. I'm thinking of building the sequence into a submision for Missouri Review - I really like that journal and their website (editorial entries/essays, especially) is outsanding, but the submissions guidelines have always intimidated me ("TMR publishes poetry features only--6 to 14 pages of poems by each of 3 to 5 poets per issue. Please keep in mind the length of features when submitting poems. Typically, successful submissions include 8-20 pages of unpublished poetry (note: please do not send complete manuscripts--published or unpublished--for consideration)".
- This week and for months before, I've been carrying around my father's copy of Fermat's Enigma. It was the last book I bought for him before he died, and I know how much he enjoyed it. I've wanted to read this book since long before I sent him a copy, but I can't seem to get through the first page. I guess vacation can't cure everything.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Bits
I've been wholly preoccupied with work and my fantasy baseball team (trade deadline 19 August!), but here are a few things to add to your background noise:
- Looks like the new 5AM just arrived at VerseDaily. Kelli Agodon had a terrific poem from 5AM featured there yesterday, and today's selection is also from that journal. Well done, Kelli.
- Ray Bradbury has a new book coming out in a couple weeks: It's shorter work (two novellas), which I think is the form that suits him best - I have all his short stories on my shelf, and I'll be adding this one in short order.
- Have I talked here the new season of the Spoken Word Series yet? Gabrel Welsch? Kate Greenstreet? Timothy Liu? David Tucker? Local artists Catherine Magia and Scott Summers and Walking English? I've always been proud of our presentations (and of still being alive as a series going into our 7th year), but this year we've set a new standard for diversity of voices without sacrificing talent bit. This hear I'm joined by cohost Siobhan Barry-Bratcher in delivering the verbal arts to Hoboken.
- I've got two of my poems picked out for the Deb Ager Stanztember Challenge (I'll keep suggesting names until you tell me to stop!). In good faith, I will admit I have their openings lines in memory already from frequent quoting, but I won't store anything else until Labor Day - to be compliant with what I imagine the rules to be.
Well, that does it for freebrain time for this week. Be seein' ya.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
The Gift of No
Just received a great rejection from kaleidowhirl. Editor Cynthia Reynolds referred to one the poems I'd submitted and commented "{name deleted} is very close to what I am seeking for kaleidowhirl; I welcome your submissions during future reading periods."
This was a stretch submission for me, and I don't mind the rejection at all when it comes with feedback like this. It came in 4 weeks and contained guidance and encouragement. What more can you ask for? An uncommented acceptance would actually be less satisfying. Well, maybe...
If you haven't been there, give kaleidowhirl a read, including the abcdarium of wordplay and other resources and links there.
Thank you, Cynthia. I look forward to your next issue, and I'll be trying you again.
This was a stretch submission for me, and I don't mind the rejection at all when it comes with feedback like this. It came in 4 weeks and contained guidance and encouragement. What more can you ask for? An uncommented acceptance would actually be less satisfying. Well, maybe...
If you haven't been there, give kaleidowhirl a read, including the abcdarium of wordplay and other resources and links there.
Thank you, Cynthia. I look forward to your next issue, and I'll be trying you again.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
I will assume that by now you are familiar with the Funky Winkerbean storyline about the recurrence of Lisa's breast cancer. Lisa has had quite the life in this strip, from her teenage pregnancy and the giving up of that child to adoption to her reunion and union with Les to her first bout with the illness that (it has been announced) will claim her this autumn. And if you have a newspaper of any size that still has a decent Comics section, you probably have had at least one article like this one from my local paper.
There are a couple issues to tease out here, and I think they have direct relevance to poetry, and poetry manuscripts in particular.
First, the gut response that "this isn't a subject for the comics". I think this is an emotional reaction that expresses a personal use of the comics: as pure escape. It's certainly fair not to want your flight of fancy tinged with tragedy. However, it is equally unfair to hold an entire art form accountable for one's own purposes. Yes, there are comic strips that are pure whimsy. There are also poets that tend toward pure whimsy (Ogden Nash comes to mind). But I'm surprised that people who object to the presence of the unfunny in the comics consider themselves "traditionalists", ignoring the difficulties presented in "serious" strips like Mary Worth, The Phantom, and Prince Valiant (a personal favorite).
Which leads us to point two: you should enjoy the comics you enjoy, and I will enjoy the comics I enjoy. Neither of us should feel the need to tell our newspapers to take the other's comics away. How is it a reasonable response to tell a publisher not to serve someone else? There is an intelligent position here, one already practiced by many papers six days week with Doonesbury: Put the subject comic in appropriate context. Doonesbury runs on the editorial page in most papers in this area.
So what’s the application to poetry and poetry manuscripts? First: The simple getting over of what’s “appropriate for poetry”. Diane Lockward recently blogged about an expectation of niceness in poetry that some people have. That needs to be gotten over – anything can be the subject of a poem. I could personally stand to see fewer about death and George Bush, but that’s my preference.
And preference is how we get to context. A manuscript – generally – has a consistency to it. A tone, if not a theme, though I tend to prefer thematically linked books (or collections with some good narrative sequences, at least). Within the manuscript, a poem that’s way off on theme or tone can disrupt the experience of the collection in a way that subtracts from its value – even if the offending poem is itself good! That’s my issue with some poets’ later collections – they mix their experiments into the pages in a way I have trouble enjoying – and it’s my sole complaint against the newspapers running the Lisa’s Cancer story. My complaint’s not with Funky Winkerbean writer Tom Batiuk, but with the editors who haven’t adjusted to his content. It’s a different collection – not part of the one it’s stuck in with now.
But then who reads the comics any more anyway (wait, there’s another similarity to poetry…..)
There are a couple issues to tease out here, and I think they have direct relevance to poetry, and poetry manuscripts in particular.
First, the gut response that "this isn't a subject for the comics". I think this is an emotional reaction that expresses a personal use of the comics: as pure escape. It's certainly fair not to want your flight of fancy tinged with tragedy. However, it is equally unfair to hold an entire art form accountable for one's own purposes. Yes, there are comic strips that are pure whimsy. There are also poets that tend toward pure whimsy (Ogden Nash comes to mind). But I'm surprised that people who object to the presence of the unfunny in the comics consider themselves "traditionalists", ignoring the difficulties presented in "serious" strips like Mary Worth, The Phantom, and Prince Valiant (a personal favorite).
Which leads us to point two: you should enjoy the comics you enjoy, and I will enjoy the comics I enjoy. Neither of us should feel the need to tell our newspapers to take the other's comics away. How is it a reasonable response to tell a publisher not to serve someone else? There is an intelligent position here, one already practiced by many papers six days week with Doonesbury: Put the subject comic in appropriate context. Doonesbury runs on the editorial page in most papers in this area.
So what’s the application to poetry and poetry manuscripts? First: The simple getting over of what’s “appropriate for poetry”. Diane Lockward recently blogged about an expectation of niceness in poetry that some people have. That needs to be gotten over – anything can be the subject of a poem. I could personally stand to see fewer about death and George Bush, but that’s my preference.
And preference is how we get to context. A manuscript – generally – has a consistency to it. A tone, if not a theme, though I tend to prefer thematically linked books (or collections with some good narrative sequences, at least). Within the manuscript, a poem that’s way off on theme or tone can disrupt the experience of the collection in a way that subtracts from its value – even if the offending poem is itself good! That’s my issue with some poets’ later collections – they mix their experiments into the pages in a way I have trouble enjoying – and it’s my sole complaint against the newspapers running the Lisa’s Cancer story. My complaint’s not with Funky Winkerbean writer Tom Batiuk, but with the editors who haven’t adjusted to his content. It’s a different collection – not part of the one it’s stuck in with now.
But then who reads the comics any more anyway (wait, there’s another similarity to poetry…..)
Monday, July 30, 2007
Jersey Writing Stuff (Non-Fiction)
Newspapers may be going the way of the mammoth, but I happen to live in a zone with a pretty good one. What's more, the columnists of my local Newark Star-Ledger are beginning to establish a credible presence in the 'sphere.
Stephen Whitty, the terrific film reviewer and columnist who has read for the Spoken Word Series, has always been very interactive with his readers, but now has a blog that accelerates those interactions into a real dialog. I'm not as much of a filmgoer as I used to be (though that's starting to change as the kids become suitable viewing partners), but I find his reviews extremely well-crafted and enjoyable even when all I know of a movie is its television hype. His profiles of film stars are great reading.
It helps to be interested in NJ politics, but even if you're not you'll appreciate the craft in Paul Mulshine's columns and now in his blog. Mulshine is a devout Parrothead (if a non-member of the following may be permitted to use the word) and defender of the sanity and responsibility of the individual in NJ, and his essays are infused with cultural, political, and personal insight.
They're not blogging -- yet -- but the columns of Kathleen Shea and Kathleen O'Brien (the Jersey one, not the Texas one or any of the others that lurk beneath the surface of Google search) are available at the NJ.com site, and if you're not as fortunate as I to live within their circulations, I really encourage you to stop by. The former Kathleen's Bad Mother Reports have a tremendous following (ardent enough to get people to a reading in Hoboken who had never attended a live reading OR been to Hoboken!), and she's great fun to work with. The latter can wander anywhere from behavioral evolution in society to next-stall celluar etiquette. Wait, that's pretty much the same thing, isn't it?
I have been tending toward non-fiction (the historical sort) in most of my non-poetry leisure reading for about a year, and I've really come to appreciate good practitioners (because there are some awful ones - particularly executing parenting and 20th century history books). These four writers are consistently good, entertaining and insightful, and I recommend them, their still-fine newspaper, and their burgeoning web presences to you.
Next up: Weighing in on the weight of the comics. Sneak preview: The only rational argument also applies to editing an anthology or your own manuscript.
Stephen Whitty, the terrific film reviewer and columnist who has read for the Spoken Word Series, has always been very interactive with his readers, but now has a blog that accelerates those interactions into a real dialog. I'm not as much of a filmgoer as I used to be (though that's starting to change as the kids become suitable viewing partners), but I find his reviews extremely well-crafted and enjoyable even when all I know of a movie is its television hype. His profiles of film stars are great reading.
It helps to be interested in NJ politics, but even if you're not you'll appreciate the craft in Paul Mulshine's columns and now in his blog. Mulshine is a devout Parrothead (if a non-member of the following may be permitted to use the word) and defender of the sanity and responsibility of the individual in NJ, and his essays are infused with cultural, political, and personal insight.
They're not blogging -- yet -- but the columns of Kathleen Shea and Kathleen O'Brien (the Jersey one, not the Texas one or any of the others that lurk beneath the surface of Google search) are available at the NJ.com site, and if you're not as fortunate as I to live within their circulations, I really encourage you to stop by. The former Kathleen's Bad Mother Reports have a tremendous following (ardent enough to get people to a reading in Hoboken who had never attended a live reading OR been to Hoboken!), and she's great fun to work with. The latter can wander anywhere from behavioral evolution in society to next-stall celluar etiquette. Wait, that's pretty much the same thing, isn't it?
I have been tending toward non-fiction (the historical sort) in most of my non-poetry leisure reading for about a year, and I've really come to appreciate good practitioners (because there are some awful ones - particularly executing parenting and 20th century history books). These four writers are consistently good, entertaining and insightful, and I recommend them, their still-fine newspaper, and their burgeoning web presences to you.
Next up: Weighing in on the weight of the comics. Sneak preview: The only rational argument also applies to editing an anthology or your own manuscript.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Welcome, Diane!
Diane Lockward - excellent poet, organizer of one of the best poetry events in NJ, and generous supporter of the writing communities she has helped develop through her teaching - has joined the blogosphere.
She was reluctant at first, noting: "I resisted in the past, thinking blogging was perhaps a waste of time and perhaps a bit self-indulgent. Maybe it is. But I've also realized lately that a blog is a good way of joining the larger community of poets."
I think she's right on all counts. And I'm sure she will have something to add to the mix.
Coincidentally, Poetic Asides chose this week to post an excerpt from the 2008 Poet's Market interview with 5 poet-bloggers with some guidance on how poets might want to approach blogging. The good news is, their list contains at least one piece of advice to support just an any approach Diane (or any of us!) should choose.
Please welcome Diane with a visit. The link is to your right.
She was reluctant at first, noting: "I resisted in the past, thinking blogging was perhaps a waste of time and perhaps a bit self-indulgent. Maybe it is. But I've also realized lately that a blog is a good way of joining the larger community of poets."
I think she's right on all counts. And I'm sure she will have something to add to the mix.
Coincidentally, Poetic Asides chose this week to post an excerpt from the 2008 Poet's Market interview with 5 poet-bloggers with some guidance on how poets might want to approach blogging. The good news is, their list contains at least one piece of advice to support just an any approach Diane (or any of us!) should choose.
Please welcome Diane with a visit. The link is to your right.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Publishers, Is This What You Really Think of Fathers?
OK. I have come to accept that the "Poetry" section in most commercial bookstores is going to contain the works of Jewel, Shakespeare, Maya Angelou, and two local authors. But I also accept that - for the most part - contemporary poetry is a limited-appeal art form and a bit of an acquired taste. As a pledge to the fraternity of the word, I feel comfortable admitting this aloud.
But parenting? Is there really an acquired taste for being a good parent? An attentive spouse and caregiver? My local paper recently ran a microreview - a positive microreview - of something called "Dad's Own Housekeeping Book" (Link deliberately omitted). Author David Bowers is a stay-at-home Dad and in general seems to be a creator of useful books, and I hope he won't take this personally, but:
Oh, please.
I'm sure it's filled with useful advice (to be fair, I'm reacting to the review, not the book), but how many more books do we need that assume male parents haven't progressed past Ricky Ricardo? The publisher's description of the book (via BN.com) opens with "Just because you’re born with a “Y” chromosome doesn’t excuse you from cleaning the bathroom, especially in this day and age when time’s at a premium and partners have to be, well, partners." Excuse me, but which of us knuckle-dragging cavemen in the 45 and under category hasn't been living this since we first dropped to one knee?
Maybe my ire is misdirected. What I'm really aggravated about is when friends anticipating their first blessed event turn to me for resources (knowing my first approach to just about anything is to acquire baseline knowledge and the right vocabulary), and I have just the one suggestion: Armin Brott. Don't get me wrong - Brott's books are pretty good, and I learned much from each of them (except for some of the deliberate redundancies of Father for Life). But are these really the only books available that don't assume that we (fathers) are stupid, reluctant, incompetent, depressed, belligerent, or some appalling combination of these? Maybe I'm missing the forest here, but for every "Be Prepared: A Practical Handbook for New Dads", I see 6 "Keeping the Baby Alive till Your Wife Gets Home: The Tough New 'how-to' for 21st Century Dads". I mean, even the (presumably) well-intentioned anthology Fatherhood displays a dismal lack of awareness by including Plath's "Daddy". I'm not looking for pollyanish, sunshine-and-saccharine treatments, just ones that don't think me an imbecile, a jerk, or a monster. Isn't there market for a book about caring, positive, literate fathering experience?
Are there good books out there I just haven't found? Or is this my call to arms? Or, more accurately, to pencils?
But parenting? Is there really an acquired taste for being a good parent? An attentive spouse and caregiver? My local paper recently ran a microreview - a positive microreview - of something called "Dad's Own Housekeeping Book" (Link deliberately omitted). Author David Bowers is a stay-at-home Dad and in general seems to be a creator of useful books, and I hope he won't take this personally, but:
Oh, please.
I'm sure it's filled with useful advice (to be fair, I'm reacting to the review, not the book), but how many more books do we need that assume male parents haven't progressed past Ricky Ricardo? The publisher's description of the book (via BN.com) opens with "Just because you’re born with a “Y” chromosome doesn’t excuse you from cleaning the bathroom, especially in this day and age when time’s at a premium and partners have to be, well, partners." Excuse me, but which of us knuckle-dragging cavemen in the 45 and under category hasn't been living this since we first dropped to one knee?
Maybe my ire is misdirected. What I'm really aggravated about is when friends anticipating their first blessed event turn to me for resources (knowing my first approach to just about anything is to acquire baseline knowledge and the right vocabulary), and I have just the one suggestion: Armin Brott. Don't get me wrong - Brott's books are pretty good, and I learned much from each of them (except for some of the deliberate redundancies of Father for Life). But are these really the only books available that don't assume that we (fathers) are stupid, reluctant, incompetent, depressed, belligerent, or some appalling combination of these? Maybe I'm missing the forest here, but for every "Be Prepared: A Practical Handbook for New Dads", I see 6 "Keeping the Baby Alive till Your Wife Gets Home: The Tough New 'how-to' for 21st Century Dads". I mean, even the (presumably) well-intentioned anthology Fatherhood displays a dismal lack of awareness by including Plath's "Daddy". I'm not looking for pollyanish, sunshine-and-saccharine treatments, just ones that don't think me an imbecile, a jerk, or a monster. Isn't there market for a book about caring, positive, literate fathering experience?
Are there good books out there I just haven't found? Or is this my call to arms? Or, more accurately, to pencils?
Thursday, July 19, 2007
RIP Sekou Sundiata
I am very surprised at the degree to which reading of Sekou Sundiata'a passing struck me just now, and I'm trying to understand it. I was introduced to his work at the first Dodge festival I attended, and I had a chance last year to sit in on a couple of his smaller events. People have been referring to him as a "performance poet", and he certainly was that - in his craft discussion, he mentioned that he tended to want to produce a CD, not a book, when he was compiling his poems. But when I asked him what might be different about writing for the ear as opposed to the page (which is how I interpreted his comment), he gently pushed back on my assumption. He clearly wanted his work to be an experience in print or in person - an event no matter how it was encountered - he just seemed to think of the CD as the way he would present the work first.
He had a quiet but forceful presence at the microphone, the kind that for me that makes clear the distinction between confidence and arrogance. Arrogance says "I have had these experiences and I know things better than you and I will tell you them now. Sit down and listen." Confidence says "I have had these experiences and I'm going to talk for a while now. You might want to listen." His presence was augmented by a great set of pipes - the kind of effortless bass that baritones with aspirations of C like me can't help but envy.
I've been looking for links to audio files of some of what he presented in his Dodge appearances so I can talk more about how he adjusted his work in real time, and how the crowd began to create our own rhythms in response to his, but I can't find them. Maybe later.
In the meantime, here are a few links. If you never heard him speak, find some audio below and give a listen. You won't be disappointed. I'm going to go stick Longstoryshort in the player and close my eyes.
Some links:
He had a quiet but forceful presence at the microphone, the kind that for me that makes clear the distinction between confidence and arrogance. Arrogance says "I have had these experiences and I know things better than you and I will tell you them now. Sit down and listen." Confidence says "I have had these experiences and I'm going to talk for a while now. You might want to listen." His presence was augmented by a great set of pipes - the kind of effortless bass that baritones with aspirations of C like me can't help but envy.
I've been looking for links to audio files of some of what he presented in his Dodge appearances so I can talk more about how he adjusted his work in real time, and how the crowd began to create our own rhythms in response to his, but I can't find them. Maybe later.
In the meantime, here are a few links. If you never heard him speak, find some audio below and give a listen. You won't be disappointed. I'm going to go stick Longstoryshort in the player and close my eyes.
Some links:
- Wikipedia's (already updated) entry
- A Fresh Air interview with Terry Gross
- His TV appearances.
- An AAP article.
- His CD Longstoryshort with some audio samples.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Expanding Your Sources
I came to my current marginlly serious approach to writing by a circuitous path. While I've always played with words (my earliest "serious" effort being a novella penned in the fourth grade about a villanous plot to make Mars invisible to the Earth for nebulous and never-detailed nefarious purposes). But I was always more active as both participant and practitioner in other art forms. I've been a chorus and band performer in since first grade, played the accordion since the 4th (more bands, but as a serious solo for the first time, acted in and directed plays and conducted musicals since high school, and devoured books of all genres for as long as I can remember - including those 4 glorious summer of commuting into Manhattan, where I averaged 2 books a week (one I particularly remember was Ed Koch's Mayor - not to date myself or anything...).
My point is this: my poetry today is heavily influenced by sources other than poetry. If you surf the body of my work, you'll of course find weak echoes of Stevens, Frost and Williams, and some more contemprary influences as well. But you might also detect the influence of Loesser's lyrics, any number of prose authors of any period (Twain, Bradbury and Zelazny, to form one non-obvious group), and one I'm often surprised to find myself turning toward, Woody Allen.
If you only know Allen from his movies (or worse, from his more recent, more average movies), you are avoiding the company of brilliance. He has a new book of essays out, his first since 1980, which I'm going to pounce on this week.
...UPDATE BEGINS HERE...
Having always been enjoyed books, plays, and movies in that order, I first came upon Allen in a copy of Side Effects stolen out of my Uncle Frank's bedroom when I was 13. That copy has since been stolen from me, which makes a sort of sense. But I still have my Without Feathers, which has any number of examples of how all great writing has elements that poets can learn from.
Excellent poems are often built around phrasing which is both unexpected and perfect. As in this line, opening "The Early Essays (On Seeing a Tree in Summer)": "Of all the wonders of nature, a tree in summer is perhaps the most remarkable, with the possible exception of seeing a moose sing "Embraceable You" in spats".
What I love about that line is how it starts in ordinaryness (banality, even), and wrenches you to someplace completely different and unanticipated. We can debate whether it's funny (I know, Mother, I know), but there's no debating its originality and craft.
Another example: Allen's names are designed to dive through the ear and create tangible and complete characters by the end of the sentences in which they are introduced. Names like "Sir Osgood Mulford Twelge" and "Kaiser Lupowitz" seem to come with headshots attached.
The point is that Allen is brilliant at dropping you someplace you could not have anticipated. It may not be taking the top of your head off, but remember what Mr. Allen had to say about another of Ms. Dickinson's quotes: "How wrong Emily Dickinson was! Hope is not "the thing with feathers". The thing with feathers has turned out to be my nephew. I must take him to that specialist in Zurich."
NOTE: All quotes are from Woody Allen's Without Feathers, 1975 edition. Also stolen from my Uncle Frank.
My point is this: my poetry today is heavily influenced by sources other than poetry. If you surf the body of my work, you'll of course find weak echoes of Stevens, Frost and Williams, and some more contemprary influences as well. But you might also detect the influence of Loesser's lyrics, any number of prose authors of any period (Twain, Bradbury and Zelazny, to form one non-obvious group), and one I'm often surprised to find myself turning toward, Woody Allen.
If you only know Allen from his movies (or worse, from his more recent, more average movies), you are avoiding the company of brilliance. He has a new book of essays out, his first since 1980, which I'm going to pounce on this week.
...UPDATE BEGINS HERE...
Having always been enjoyed books, plays, and movies in that order, I first came upon Allen in a copy of Side Effects stolen out of my Uncle Frank's bedroom when I was 13. That copy has since been stolen from me, which makes a sort of sense. But I still have my Without Feathers, which has any number of examples of how all great writing has elements that poets can learn from.
Excellent poems are often built around phrasing which is both unexpected and perfect. As in this line, opening "The Early Essays (On Seeing a Tree in Summer)": "Of all the wonders of nature, a tree in summer is perhaps the most remarkable, with the possible exception of seeing a moose sing "Embraceable You" in spats".
What I love about that line is how it starts in ordinaryness (banality, even), and wrenches you to someplace completely different and unanticipated. We can debate whether it's funny (I know, Mother, I know), but there's no debating its originality and craft.
Another example: Allen's names are designed to dive through the ear and create tangible and complete characters by the end of the sentences in which they are introduced. Names like "Sir Osgood Mulford Twelge" and "Kaiser Lupowitz" seem to come with headshots attached.
The point is that Allen is brilliant at dropping you someplace you could not have anticipated. It may not be taking the top of your head off, but remember what Mr. Allen had to say about another of Ms. Dickinson's quotes: "How wrong Emily Dickinson was! Hope is not "the thing with feathers". The thing with feathers has turned out to be my nephew. I must take him to that specialist in Zurich."
NOTE: All quotes are from Woody Allen's Without Feathers, 1975 edition. Also stolen from my Uncle Frank.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
I don't know how long they've been around, but Writer's Digest has a number of pretty active blogs now. Seems the poetry one is pretty new, with posts from Nancy Breen and Robert Lee Brewer from the WD Books cast list. I discovered Poetic Asides through a comment made over at Jeannine's place and visited with some trepidation. I gave up on WD a little over a year ago, when it became clear to me that their opinion of meaningful poetry content wasn't aligning with mine (also when Nancy Kress's contributions became less frequent).
It's early, of course (though relative posting rates being what they are, Poetic Asides will have reached the word count of this humble establishment before summer's end), but I think it shows some promise. I think anyone who frequents one or more of the poet's blogs at right will find the content a little light at first (the concept of the spam prompt, for example, are quite old to established poet-bloggers), but remember these blogs aren't for the established "blogosphere", they're for WD aficionados learning what blogs are and are not, what they are capable of and who they can reach.
Which leads me to a question. Many of us began the discovery our voices through relentless imitation. Some of those imitations must have, at times, found a way to an audience (publication, workshop, friend-of-a-friend), and that audience may not have recognized the imitation. For example, a good hunk of my early work aspires to be After Apple-picking or Birches. But a good hunk of my "immediate audience", having a knowledge of Frost that ended at the edge of the woods, therefore learned of the original through my works. Is that bad? Does it mean my work is less meaningful? Less useful? Sure, to one "schooled in the art" my work brought nothing new, but for some people, my work was the key to deeper knowledge of Frost. And to me, those same poems were the apprentice work that helped me hone my sense of rhythm, of sound, of line, etc. that have become something of my own voice.
So: Imitation of the past greats: good or bad? Useful? If so, to whom? Does it deserve positive, negative, or no attention from those who discover it? Enthusiastically joining the blog party without deep, knowledge of what earlier-arriving guests brought with them: good or bad? Useful? If so, to whom? Does it deserve positive, negative, or no attention from those who discover it?
My answer: Poetic Asides may bring new readers the long way around to the places Ron Silliman et al have been working in for years. It will definitely add a new voice, even while it searches through what came before looking for a place to settle in.
(Quick aside, poets only): first submission in almost 2 years went out yesterday. Got any luck you feel like sharing?
(Another quick aside, SF fans only): If you haven't already, go read the July Asimov's - Nancy Kress's novella is terrific.
(Final quick aside: computer nerds only): Any idea why Blogger is resisting accepting a title for this post?
It's early, of course (though relative posting rates being what they are, Poetic Asides will have reached the word count of this humble establishment before summer's end), but I think it shows some promise. I think anyone who frequents one or more of the poet's blogs at right will find the content a little light at first (the concept of the spam prompt, for example, are quite old to established poet-bloggers), but remember these blogs aren't for the established "blogosphere", they're for WD aficionados learning what blogs are and are not, what they are capable of and who they can reach.
Which leads me to a question. Many of us began the discovery our voices through relentless imitation. Some of those imitations must have, at times, found a way to an audience (publication, workshop, friend-of-a-friend), and that audience may not have recognized the imitation. For example, a good hunk of my early work aspires to be After Apple-picking or Birches. But a good hunk of my "immediate audience", having a knowledge of Frost that ended at the edge of the woods, therefore learned of the original through my works. Is that bad? Does it mean my work is less meaningful? Less useful? Sure, to one "schooled in the art" my work brought nothing new, but for some people, my work was the key to deeper knowledge of Frost. And to me, those same poems were the apprentice work that helped me hone my sense of rhythm, of sound, of line, etc. that have become something of my own voice.
So: Imitation of the past greats: good or bad? Useful? If so, to whom? Does it deserve positive, negative, or no attention from those who discover it? Enthusiastically joining the blog party without deep, knowledge of what earlier-arriving guests brought with them: good or bad? Useful? If so, to whom? Does it deserve positive, negative, or no attention from those who discover it?
My answer: Poetic Asides may bring new readers the long way around to the places Ron Silliman et al have been working in for years. It will definitely add a new voice, even while it searches through what came before looking for a place to settle in.
(Quick aside, poets only): first submission in almost 2 years went out yesterday. Got any luck you feel like sharing?
(Another quick aside, SF fans only): If you haven't already, go read the July Asimov's - Nancy Kress's novella is terrific.
(Final quick aside: computer nerds only): Any idea why Blogger is resisting accepting a title for this post?
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Independence!
Independence from a tyrannical June, that is. A difficult month for a number of reasons which, for tradition's sake, I will not detail here. So. Draw a little picket fence (which is what we used do to between frames of a really bad line of bowling to indicate a fresh start - when we kept score with pencils, that is. Remember those terrific overhead scoring "systems" where you wrote with a nice soft pencil on an acetate and projected it overhead? But I digress...) and let's start this blog new.
Spent Independence Day at the Grover Cleveland Birthplace for their annual 4th of July Ice Cream Social. They really do a nice job - aside from the freezer for the ice cream and the guy on playing Mala Femmena on the synthesizer, they provide you the experience of a party they way it would have been when Cleveland was a boy. My kids rolled hoops, played marbles, enjoyed the game o graces, and dressed up in time-appropriate garb. A delightful afternoon overall.
During my hiatus (which clearly began long before I declared it here), it's occurred to me that I may be a sort of Ed Sullivan as regards the poetry world. After 20 years on and off and 6 years of serious pursuit, I'm confident to say that - even if my career someday shows me to be a B+ practitioner of the art myself - I have a good ear and sense of the craft, have realized some terrific luck recruiting some really fine poets to read in my series in Hoboken, have had some success "discovering" artists in some way. Case in point: the pairing of poet John J. Trause with painter Michael Filan in our Visible Word event. When the fruit of your ideas is good enough to get picked up by objective third parties, you gain a little confidence. And I am just as pleased to see my idea flourish in recognition for other artists as I am to have my own words recognized; in my mind this is one of the things that distinguishes managers and mentors. If you will: Confidence in the skills, independence from the ego.
Speaking of which, I won't have time this year for the annual watching of William Daniels' wonderful portrayal of John Adams in 1776. Good thing I have it memorized.
Spent Independence Day at the Grover Cleveland Birthplace for their annual 4th of July Ice Cream Social. They really do a nice job - aside from the freezer for the ice cream and the guy on playing Mala Femmena on the synthesizer, they provide you the experience of a party they way it would have been when Cleveland was a boy. My kids rolled hoops, played marbles, enjoyed the game o graces, and dressed up in time-appropriate garb. A delightful afternoon overall.
During my hiatus (which clearly began long before I declared it here), it's occurred to me that I may be a sort of Ed Sullivan as regards the poetry world. After 20 years on and off and 6 years of serious pursuit, I'm confident to say that - even if my career someday shows me to be a B+ practitioner of the art myself - I have a good ear and sense of the craft, have realized some terrific luck recruiting some really fine poets to read in my series in Hoboken, have had some success "discovering" artists in some way. Case in point: the pairing of poet John J. Trause with painter Michael Filan in our Visible Word event. When the fruit of your ideas is good enough to get picked up by objective third parties, you gain a little confidence. And I am just as pleased to see my idea flourish in recognition for other artists as I am to have my own words recognized; in my mind this is one of the things that distinguishes managers and mentors. If you will: Confidence in the skills, independence from the ego.
Speaking of which, I won't have time this year for the annual watching of William Daniels' wonderful portrayal of John Adams in 1776. Good thing I have it memorized.
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
This Here Little Unintentional Hiatus
Well, just in case anyone is still dropping in here from time to time, let the notion that I'll be posting meaningfully any time soon be gone from your head. June is shaping up to make May look like the slothful Sunday at the heart of a long weekend.
The corner deli ("Your source for Cosmic Liverwurst since 2003") will reopen on July 4th, which hopefully will signify my independence from some current time-consuming activities in addition to portending a sleepless evening for my kids and the delicious overnight smell of sulfur.
Among the things you have waiting for you upon our return:
The corner deli ("Your source for Cosmic Liverwurst since 2003") will reopen on July 4th, which hopefully will signify my independence from some current time-consuming activities in addition to portending a sleepless evening for my kids and the delicious overnight smell of sulfur.
Among the things you have waiting for you upon our return:
- Tidbits from the Celebration of NJ Journals
- Upcoming publication news
- Details on an exciting Spoken Word Series 07-08
- Complaints about Bobby Abreu's batting average
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