Battle in Print: Debating Matters on poetry

David Bowden, 27 September 2006

It seems fitting that, for a medium so often concerned with matters of mortality and loss, poetry is only ever talked about these days in terms of its inevitable demise. For all the oft-voiced concerns about the dumbing down of our society, it should be noted that great (and often not so great) literature continues to provoke debate and inflame passions – be it from the pen of Zadie Smith or Dan Brown. Major theatres still play to large audiences; events such as the Edinburgh Fringe generate more column inches and public discussion than the plots of some soap operas.

But who could look at the world of poetry without feeling that its ‘paths of glory lead but to the grave’? Long gone are the days when every schoolboy or girl would instantly recognise those lines from Thomas Gray, or Dylan Thomas’ arrival on American shores would provoke frenzied scenes rivalling any modern celebrity. Poetry is still read today, and is on the national curriculum, but it is admired in much the same way that one might admire a well-crafted Athenian bowl, or fossilised remain – pretty, but pointless outside the realms of the classroom.

Was it always ever thus? One must not get carried away overstating the demise of poetry in the national consciousness – it was from its very beginning a lonely, poorly paid pursuit, with poems published in small numbers and read by an even smaller intellectual elite. Geoffrey Chaucer wished to be remembered for his diplomatic services to his country rather than the poems he wrote to fill time during his many periods of unemployment and exile; the Reverend John Donne would probably be baffled that his Holy Sonnets have warranted such close critical attention, while his finely honed and crafted sermons gather dust.

There was a time, however, when even ‘the man on the street’ would at least recognise the names Philip Larkin or WH Auden, even if not the work. Who could say the same now for Paul Muldoon, or even Andrew Motion? The fall of poetry’s stock is not even confined to its casual fans either – the last decade has seen more poetry collections published than ever before, met with consistently falling sales figures, discouraging literary sections of leading newspapers from finding space to even mention the slew of new releases. For Raymond Tallis – himself more famous in the fields of medicine and philosophy than in poetry – ‘poetry’s chief problem is that the supply of poets far outstrips the demand of readers’.

Poets are, at least, a dogged breed. As a new challenge has been lain down and their demise predicted, so a generation rises to fight back. Performance is the latest strategy. If the readers will not come to them, then they shall go to the readers. Gone are the days when a shy, mild-mannered poet could publish a small collection before quietly returning to other projects – today’s poets are expected to be hard-working professionals, willing to perform their work at poetry readings across the country and organise workshops with which to nurture or inspire a new audience. Poetry no longer exists on the printed page, with its meanings and complexities being drawn out by an isolated, introspective reader – it now breathes in theatres and bars, at literary festivals, or on podcasts delivered from the author’s personal website.

The most visible example of this emphasis on performance has been the rise of ‘slam’ poetry. Originally developed in the jazz cafes of Chicago in the mid-eighties, poetry slams are competitive events where poets are marked by a panel of judges for performance and content, with prizes for the winners. As with any competition, there are various regulations (dependent on the organisers) regarding time and use of props, and the breaking of these lead to point deductions or disqualification.

Although slams are technically open to any kind of poet who wishes to perform their work aloud, even Poetry Slam Inc – promoters of the National Poetry Slam – concede that the genre has become synonymous with the harsh, confrontational style of hip-hop music, and appeals to a largely young and urban male audience. The genre is often associated with political and racial subject matter, and has a strong disregard for literary tradition: DreadlockAlien, a leading slam poet and Birmingham’s current Poet Laureate, proudly announces that ‘he doesn’t really read much written poetry’ and often ends his set with a poem denouncing the attention afforded to Wordsworth and other ‘dead white men’.

While slams have been successful in drawing attention to the oft-overlooked world of poetry, and have broken out of the insular literary community (taking place at Glastonbury and WOMAD) the genre is not without its critics. Sean O’Brien, award-winning poet and critic, describes the appeal of art as having ‘something to offer…of which the audience is not already in complete possession’, suggesting ‘enlightenment, a sense of wonder’ or ‘an extension to the map of experience’ among the many possible rewards. A poetry slam does not, in contrast, offer the audience much other than to sit as passive observers and occasionally pass judgement – the work belongs only to the poet, who performs it in their voice, describing their experience and their interpretation.

Poetry readers are right to be wary of the term ‘performance’ poetry. Think of all the great tools at a poet’s disposal – irony, form, metaphor, assonance, onomatopoeia. This is where real ‘performance’ lies. Emphasis on the spectacle of recital forces us to take the work only at face value. This suggests a poem can’t have multiple interpretations beyond the poet’s original meaning, and that the exploration of these sometimes conflicting ideas is not integral to poetry’s enduring appeal.

It would be wrong to blame slam poetry entirely for this reductionist attitude, for it can be seen in exponents of the written form. Poets are constantly encouraged to produce works or anthologies with the emphasis on ‘relevance’ and ‘accessibility’. Poems are increasingly seen as instruments capable of serving particular purposes. The recent anthology 101 Poems to Keep You Sane, for example, offers poems to ease you through the stress of modern life, from ‘dodgy DIY’ to ‘non-existent trains’.

The problem is that, if nothing else, poetry’s role is to be neither one thing nor the other. Elizabeth Bishop’s famous poem ‘One Art’ is about dealing with the death of a loved one, but does it not also consider the role and purpose of a poet in their work, and the conflict between a rational acceptance of death and the irrationality of grief? Poets need readers not just to buy their books, but to hold opinions and interpretations of their own, to argue and tease out meanings of which the author may not be aware. Debate is the essence of poetry and the day anyone can comprehensively answer the question ‘What is poetry for?’ in a few words is the day poetry shall truly die.

David Bowden is a student of English Literature, University of Exeter

 References

O’Brien, S. (1998). The Deregulated Muse. Newcastle Upon Tyne, Bloodaxe.

Poetry Slam Inc.: http://www.poetryslam.org/

 Festival Buzz

"The audience were the stars of the Battle of Ideas - engaged, informed and enthusiastic. As a panellist, I felt both ashamed and educated. Exactly as it should be."
John Street, professor of politics, University of East Anglia