Thursday, September 14, 2006

For the second time in three years, Lisa Robertson has been the poet whose book has been mentioned most often in Steve Evans’ annual roundup of what is currently interesting to a roster of contemporary poets. Steve has been running this project, which he calls Attention Span, off & on, since 1998, and it’s not hard to compile from Steve’s list a multiyear roster of those whose books have been mentioned multiple times in any one year. What is so remarkable about Robertson’s repeated top showing – her book, The Men, shared the honors this year with Drew Gardner’s Petroleum Hat – is that it’s unusual for any writer to show up with multiple mentions more than once, period. Robertson’s Occasional Work and Seven Walks from the Office for Soft Architecture finished first also in 2004. In contrast, the book cited most often in 2003 was Rodrigo Toscano’s Platform. Toscano has never been cited more than once in a year since.
In spite of some methodological limitations, Evans’ annual list is a fascinating look into the dynamics of contemporary poetry. Ever since he expanded his list of invited contributors from maybe three dozen to something more like 50, he’s gotten back lists that routinely itemize between 374 and 480 items. In general, he asks his contributors to list up to 11 books – CDs and other items are also possible, but not very commonly mentioned – of what is currently interesting to the respondent. This doesn’t mean that it’s necessarily their favorite books, it could even be the most troubling, and Evans’ methodology may have a bit of the snapshot problem of catching audiences right when a lot of people have ponied up for the hot new book – would Evans get the same list three months before or after? Almost certainly not. So I wouldn’t necessarily conclude from these annual lists that Lisa Robertson is indubitably the most popular poet, even in Steve Evans friendship network, nor that Rodrigo Toscano was a one-hit wonder. But there is no question that when either publishes a new book, it generates a lot of interest right away.
Perhaps more than anything, what I see in these annual exercises is a sense of just how rich our contemporary poetry scene is – year after year, we see that the most interesting books, if we define interesting as “being of interest” to more than post-avant poet or critic, are different – there is an incredible, almost overwhelming diversity here. That I think is one of the great strengths of the current moment in poetry, but it’s also one of its great challenges as well. With 199 books mentioned more than once over the past four years, I can find only one poet who has been so listed in each of those years – Elizabeth Willis, who even had two books on the list in 2005. Robertson, Juliana Spahr and Lisa Jarnot have appeared three of the four years – further evidence that the old days of poetry as a boys’ club are long past.
Evans’ invitees tend to be skewed toward his own interests – no big surprise there – so that respondents are most often younger post-avants and what they’re reading. But one conclusion I would make from these responses is not only are the big trade houses really small presses with good binding, but that they aren’t particularly effective distributors of their own poetry. In the past four years, only one title by FSG – Jeff Clark’s Music and Suicide in 2004 – and one title by Knopf – Charles Mann’s 1491, cited twice this year – have ever received more than a single vote. Wesleyan University Press, by comparison, appeared eight times in the same period, Ugly Duckling ten times, UC Press seven times, Faux four times, Krupskaya seven times, Atelos five times, New Directions eight times, Subpress four times, and Edge five. Two larger independents closely associated with the trades – Graywolf and
I’ve noted these dynamics before. In the late 1940s, the
But even in such a cacophonous polyphony as that put forward by the absolute sum of today’s books, somebody like Lisa Robertson, a Canadian poet living these days in France, is able to reach a larger number of readers, not once, but twice, than any other writer. That’s an extraordinary accomplishment. And it suggests (once again) that this whole poetry scene is ripe material for a good anthropologist or sociologist. Especially as it transitions from the clubby coherence of a scene composed of a few hundred poets into a new century peopled by thousands.
Labels: Theory
The internet may account for thousands of casual browsers who might read a bit, and even write a few poems, but one would hardly put them into the class of those 200 or so active “poets” you cite circa 1940’s. It would be wrong, I think, to conflate someone like Witter Bynner or Dorothy Parker with the hundreds of online groupies who put up blogs and conduct daily poetic “diaries” about cats and cancer surgery.
To some degree, what we think of today as “poet” is much broader and more inclusive than it once was. The proliferation of workshops and open readings probably has much to do with it, as well as the internet. That catholic inclusion might have positive effects in welcoming otherwise excluded voices, but it also tends to lower the bar for all kinds of writing generally. Again, this might be regarded as essentially a good thing.
Ron might feel more people reading and writing poetry is better no matter what. I’ve never felt that way. I’ve always felt the best readers were the most critical and the most demanding, though not necessarily the most restrictive in terms of the possible kinds or styles of writing.
The Quietists doubtless rue the day that “in”-formal writing was accepted into the realm of “creative writing” since it tends to legitimate all kinds of secondary stuff. It’s actually more difficult to write an interesting and original piece in “jagged” form than in a strict schematic one. Marianne Moores and Louis Zukofskys don’t occur often in the world, and it would be a mistake to think that attaining their degree of profound penetration can happen frequently and/or with little effort.
fascinating observations. When I got as far as this sentence in your penultimate paragraph -- "Discerning any shape to the overall landscape may simply appear impossible" -- I had to pause and write a responsive poem.
Paradoxically (it now occurs to me, having now read the rest of the paragraph), even if merely on the level of a mild bon-mot, your remark about poets "drawing from both schools" arguably finds direct reflection in the title of my responsive villanelle, viz., "Shards in the shade". Anyway, for poss. amusement, there it is.
<< Our favourite on ramp curving sharply round to the cement bridge, left side overhung with a small leafed tree that sprays the roof of our car with its particular vibrato shade. >>
"Our" is undifferentiated as to driving or riding-as-passenger, but the sentence describes locomotion (as opposed to mere sitting).
source: Lisa Robertson, Soft Architecture: A Manifesto
This doesn't mean that you are drinking coffee right at this minute!
Context!
In a court, there'd thus be a meritorious objection for lack of foundation for the question. And an even better objection of relevance. But I appreciate curiosity in most every form, so I'm not going to forbid anybody from answering.
As for Ron's comments on the survey, he misses the mark when he implies the 1940s with 200 publishing poets was some kind of "clubby coherence of a scene." Based on his writings, I'm pretty dang sure that Kenneth Rexroth would laugh at the idea of coherence; he ripped the academics and others. I also don't see much clubby coherence between, say, T.S. Eliot and what Patchen or Cummings was writing in the mid-1940s, and ditto for Eliot and San Francisco / Berkeley poets like KR, Lamantia, Everson, Duncan, Spicer, Maclaine, etc. By 1960, Donald Allen had broken new American poetry into five groups, and that was definitely understating the number of groups that could be described as having a "clubby coherence."
And while there's no denying that today most everything as become more iinternationalized due to improved communications (the internet), ithe 1940s were not a time of unbridgeable gulfs between poets of different nations. Breton came to America, for example. New Directions in the early 1940s published a big thick and still pretty decent anthology of Latin American poetry. The London centered magazines "Now" and "Horizon" published plenty of Americans and Paalen's "Dyn" out of Mexico City had a strong international mix (ditto "VVV" and "Hemispheres," out of NYC and Brooklyn, respectively).
What zine is that praytell?
Where are they?
It's summer, I think (green grass in distance and light clothing). She's stopped at a Shell station.
Who took the photograph? What is the nature of her relationship to the photographer?
What does it say on the box in the back of her car?
(I believe in the reconstitution of the Author from the evidence as given.)
Do her shoes have leather in the straps?
ah, betwixt Volvo and Völva, quite a span. (The latter was evidently a girls' club.) The three taps of the distaff is an interesting detail in the Wikipedia item on same. I also like the "sitting outdoors" part: << All Völvas were not surrounded by the same retinue and preparations as Þórbjörgr, but she could also perform the seiðr alone, which was called sitting outdoors. >>
In fact, things ended badly for the guys:
<< Men who practiced sorcery or magic were not received with the same respect, because they were dealing with a practice that was held to be the privilege of women. The Saga of Eric the Red relates that one of Harald Fairhair's sons by the Sami woman Snöfrid was a seiðmaðr. The king had him burnt to death inside a house with eighty fellow male practitioners. >>
Talk about censorship.
"What zine is that praytell?"
I believe Ron is referring to Jacket. The latest issue is #30, which focuses on Zukofsky:
http://jacketmagazine.com/30/index.shtml
Btw, thanks for sharing the quote from "Soft Architecture: A Manifesto." I picked up a copy of Occassional Work and Seven Walks from the Office for Soft Architecture" when I was in Vancouver this summer. The sentence you quoted is from one of my favorite paragraphs of the manifesto. The preceeding sentence is a beauty, too: "At the centre of the tent encampment, the density of the temporary in a tantrum of action; on peripheries over silent grass of playing fields the fizzy mauveness of seed-fringe hovering."
peace, love and understanding (never give up!)
Steve Petermeier
no man's land
minneapolis, mn
usa
Interesting to note ratios in Ron's numbers: from 1940 the population swelled from 150,000 to 300,000, basicily doubling, but the number of books published went from 8,000 to 174,000, a bit more than doubling, and the number of published poets went from 200 to over 10,000, also a bit more than doubling; the books and poets published ratios much more perverse than the doubling of the population.
I took an interest in LR but when i read the line in the wiki link, 'Her work is a deep questioning of language, history and gender that can help a reader to feel the world as constructed by words in new ways, sometimes uncomfortable, often beautiful.'
Once I read the word 'gender'right after 'history' she had lost me.
It is popular for our local papers to publish what the clebs and politicos are reading and I often distrust those lists. I think they mention books that they heard about or they wish they were reading or they think they should be reading. I distrust Evens list in the same way.
This is not to take away from the point of Ron's post (although I'd like to see sales figures to verify as Ron says that Robertson, '... is able to reach a large number of readers.') for he points out the somewhat inbred nature of the selectees.
They may constitute some hipster colony of their own minds or be connected by way of literary programs and workshops and be a self-supporting network of some type, maybe the type that is so often railed against in the Foetry website.
It is difficult for me to judge the reason why Roberston is mentioned more than other poets, but Ron could go into more depth on the books that were mentioned, and why he thinks they made the list, and on the poets who were included as selectees. I would be interested in this topic explored in more depth.
So you think it was ‘clubby’ then, Ron, only then, (?) where have you been sleeping?
As a professional fine arts photographer, I recently had a conversation with a grad student in the photography program at RISD, who explained to me that though he was completely self-taught he felt it essential to get a validating degree from a prestigious fine arts college. His parents are, coincidently, professors at a prestigious mid-western university. This student patiently explained to me that he wished to forge a career steeped in all aspects of photography: practice, theory, and teaching.
So I guess to that end he entrusted his soul to the academics. His conservation reflected that, steeped in PC, liberal politics, and a mind-numbing ignorance of the evil loose in the world at large. Presented with a series of meaningless photographs he had a theoretical validation for each one.
I only bring this up because in following Ron’s links, I chanced upon Mr. Steve Evans, progenitor of the list, subject of Ron's post, who reminded me of this photo student I mentioned. Mr. Evans too has forged a career in fine arts poetry, theory, teaching and I guess practice. I don’t fault Mr. Evans passion, I believe it is genuine, but I also believe that he may be one of the ones who have unwittingly hijacked poetry, just like some zealous Muslims have hijacked Islam or some born again fundamentalists have hijacked Christianity.
They believe, but they themselves have been hijacked and they are too invested to ever admit it or to turn back.
As Curtis Faville said of Stephanie Young,
‘I see ample precedent for Stephanie Young’s style of writing, but I regard it as only a pedestrian attempt at employment. She’s obviously very intelligent, and she’s been to school with some—if not all—of the avant writers of the last 50 years (in English).
The key words there being, ‘been to school with’. . . ,
So it is with Evans coterie of selectees. They too have been to school. With self-serving teachers who teach how to make the most of connections made in writing programs. See Wolf, Ramke, Jorie Grahm, et al for corruption in poetry contests. I don’t want to paint all with a broad brush, but it seems that poets with pedigrees from programs or with connections get ahead in much larger proportion than poets without fine arts degrees. Since when in the history of poetry is a MFA degree a pre-requisite to being a poet?
I’m surprised that you, Ron, are not more in tune with the baser aspects of the po biz viz a vi who gets published, who makes lists, given that you seem to be a poetic, ethical purist.
Just a thought.
David Buuck
Your argument would carry more weight if you mentioned writers and works of a quality that you feel merit attention and who were maybe ignored because of their race.
When will this sad little cottage industry go away?
I can’t think of a single work of merit that ever needed the protection of its “diversity” to shield it from neglect.
On the contrary, it almost always results in the promulgation of mediocrity.
pardon if I indulge in pleasantry:
this could possibly seem a case of the ivories calling the porcelain white.
(okay, it's not really that; but the saying seemed to call for such a subversion or at least revision)
;-)
Think about it folks!
Curtis: How "we" define "works of merit" is exactly the point. It's like saying if writers of color would just write better books then "we" wouldn't need to have this conversation. Assuming that such 'works of merit' will somehow appear to 'us' allows us to continue to ignore other radical traditions which are active all over the world.
Or to put it another way: Do you believe that you are best able to challenge yourself as a writer/reader/whatever by limiting your reading to only white Euro-American writers? How so? How does turning a blind eye to writing from the rest of the world make you a better writer/thinker/etc?
It is against this kind of thinking--all too prevalent in the institutions of learning in our fair land the last 30 years--that I speak. It is shallow thinking, wrong thinking--it is not even thought at all, but idle bitching and moaning. Until one can see that liking or approving or admiring the work of one such as Cullen depends NOT upon the color of his skin, but upon an appreciation of the quality of the work alone, one must remain mired in a tiresome, stupid bias.
Show me the money!
It isn't so black and white. An appeciation of the quality of a particular work is not entirely divorced from "the color of [the writer's] skin."
Consider please Langston Hughes' "Harlem" aka "Harlem:A Dream Deferred."
That poem most would agree is powerful. And it would be powerful regardless of who Hughes was. The power of the poem is different, though, enhanced I would suggest, given who Hughes was. What exactly that difference is can be discussed. Some might say who Hughes was makes the poem's power more poignant, more deeply serious, more politically charged, and/or more likely that one of its lines would reverberate for years and be used as title of the first play by a black woman to be produced on Broadway. Who Hughes was elevates this poem from a one of many powerful poems, even powerful poems of social protest from that period (cf. Rexroth's poems of the time), into a mid-20th Centiry American classic, a poem that must be read by anyone who wants to seriously know the poetry of that era.
Context and origin can be key to an assessment of quality or value.
Hughes' work cannot stand on its racial context. That neither helps nor hinders it. A man wrote those poems, not a whole people, not a class, not a neighborhood, not a sex. Either the work is valid and interesting, or it's not. Period. History is not art. Only what we make of it.
Divorce Hughes' 'Dream' from the context of a poem written by a 'pissed off nigger' and would we still consider it a great poem?
I say yeah.
It may have been written by a 'pissed off mick' in Boston in the 1800's -- Hughes mentions no race or color in the poem.
If the poem is good, it doesn't need to be an example of privileged minority entitlement.
Dumas was at least 50% African. Does that color his work for us? I don't think so. The Count of Monte Cristo is a masterpiece nonetheless.
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