Jonathan describes his "blogger's code," which "says not to criticize the poetry of another blogger who is known to me primarily, or principally, as a blogger, and is not a quote unquote famous poet."
I think I probably feel that way as well, although I've never really articulated it to myself that way. But what I've really been thinking is that Jonathan's tenets only make sense given the peculiar traits of the poetry/blog community we're a part of (although the boundaries of that community have gotten a lot blurrier to me of late). Among them:
1. No one in this community, with the possible exception of Ron Silliman, is a "famous poet": i.e. I wouldn't know them through a significant body of published and widely read work before encountering them in blogland. Those who have published books have usually published one book and/or maybe a few chapbooks. (This is getting more complicated as more established poets start to write blogs; but I'm guessing that Jonathan would not view such poets as immune to critique.)
2. The primary purpose of blogs in this community is not the publication, exchange, and critique of our own poems. Many of us never post our own poems on our blogs at all, while others keep separate poetry blogs. When I have posted a poem on my blog, I don't think I've ever received a direct comment on it. That's in sharp contrast to the way poetry circulates in other online venues (e.g. discussion groups, message boards, or even other kinds of blogs), which function as something like virtual workshops or poetry-swaps.
I don't object to this element of poetry blogging; in fact, I rather like that the poetry/poetics blogs I read are something onto themselves and not merely channels for the propagation of "real work." But I wonder why this is the case.
3. The relationship between this group of bloggers is communal rather than competitive. As Nick and others have pointed out in Jonathan's comment box, that's rather surprising: in most other spheres it's natural to view other poets as "the competition." But it seems as if most of us, in blogging, are wearing our reader/responder hats (appreciation, analysis, critique) rather than our poet hats (awe, envy, resentment, theft).
For some, this communal sense is actually a weakeness of blogging: we're all buddies who would never say a bad word about each other. The Chicago Reader (irritatingly little of which is available online) ran a story in last week's books issue on book review blogs, noting that print reviewers tended to view bloggers (among whom the author counted herself) as "one big, giddy circle jerk." I'm thinking also of a recent blog entry by Patrick Rosal on the productive value of competition, of "trying to write a better poem than someone else" (while remembering "we all got to eat at the same table").
Personally, I prize that sense of community; but perhaps that's because I'm uncomfortable with the kind of naked striving (after publication, awards, publicity) that seems to characterize the lives of many professional poets (and others, honestly; it's why I decided in college I could never be a journalist). In the one place I've seen a real, thriving poetry community--the Bay Area--it always seemed to me that a community produced work as effectively as did a bunch of individuals competing: people doing good stuff encouraged you to do good stuff too, but not necessarily to beat them.
I've always found it peculiar that my own poetry blogs -- sites I've set up to exclusively feature some already published work -- rarely get visits, whereas my chew-the-fat literary blog has gotten thousands. Like, where's the curiocity among these poets? Most of us though are in a discursive news-reading mode when surfing this community -- I must confess that often my own eyes glaze over when confronted with an actual poem, so I'm not above criticism myself in this regard. Sometimes, though, I welcome reading a poem, and comment. One reason I like Simon De Deo's blog is that it reviews actual poems, which are the ultimate thing here, eh? A few rambling reflections before I hit the sack... I imagine they're coherent enough. Are they? Cheers!
ReplyDeleteThese are issues I think about a lot, and Nick is one whose opinion about these very same issues I value enormously, because his position is a very thoughtful one. It makes a lot of sense, even though I still harbor the sense that negative criticism is somehow *necessary* in the greater scheme of things. I feel bad for coaxing an apology out of Nick so late at night! I'm sure the discussion will continue...
ReplyDeleteI'm glad the issue has turned to child-rearing. Children begin to be suspicious of false praise early on, but do thrive when their real strengths are identified and praised, as Nick points out.
ReplyDeleteSame with undergraduate students. Perfunctory, tepid praise works well enough to keep things moving along, but students know the difference between a substantive comment and a mere place holder.
My daughter Juilia, when I told her last week that a certain blogger had said her sestina was "the best ever written."
"Yeah, right." [sarcastic, preteen intonation]
Even though I happen to agree with Kasey that this is one of the best sestinas I can imagine being written by anyone, I think her skeptical response is perfectly justified from her point of view. She doesn't view that as any more remarkable than scoring a goal in a soccer game or learning to play "Ode to Joy" on the trumpet.
I am glad to have sparked such a fruitful discussion with my "blogger's code," which at best is a stop-gap measure in the evolution of my own thinking on these problems.
Hey, finally something that I too have done!---play Ode to Joy on a trumpet :)
ReplyDelete.......
From blogs, somewhere last year, I heard that Pound said it takes 20 years [before a true appraisal of a poetry can be undertaken or taken seriously.] As I commented on Jonathan's blog, half clowning, "all good poets are dead," let us keep in mind that our appraisals perhaps cannot be true for another twenty years. Food for thought.
I'm here because my forceful tactics are proving successful. More and more people are reading my blog and saying nice things about it.
ReplyDeleteNick --
ReplyDeleteYou are charmingly optmistic about both human nature and poetry. I, eeyore and half-calvinist, need more of that.
"What has value survives" -- I hope so. How we count on this.
Anne