The Literary Art

Is anybody out there?

In today’s media marketplace, the activity of audience participation has become a popular form of entertainment. Examples that come to mind first, are extravagant quiz shows offering millions that I generally pass over while channel surfing, and of course American Idol. Now, at the start of the week the venerable CBS Evening News with Katie Couric is offering its viewers the opportunity to select, by majority vote, one of three personal-interest stories that, if chosen, will be aired at the week’s close.

This, no doubt, is democracy in action. But is the appreciation of art – say poetry – a democratic activity? Are all opinions, like votes in a democracy, of equal value?

Some of you may also like to watch the annual championship dog show, “Best in Breed,” from the Madison Square Garden in New York. Here, to the contrary, there is not voting, no debate. There is a single judge. An expert, this person is usually in his or her fifties and sixties; has in mind the form or idea of the perfect animal, and judges all individual candidates against it.

Wishing to be a forum of discovery, this column desires not only to be contemporary with its culture but informative and intelligent. It therefore requests, please, that its readers participate in it. It wants them to participate though email (www.literaryed@lagniasppe.com) by sending critical and aesthetic reactions to the following two poems, as if poems were candidates on American Idol or the CBS Evening, or at the New York Kennel Club.

Reader response should consist of your choice of favorite poem and the reasons for this choice. Hopefully, the collective response will form the substance of a subsequent column. All responses will remain anonymous.

If you are unsure as to how to defend, or explain, your choice, here are some guidelines. The single defining characteristic of poetry is that it is condensed (says “much in little”) in the sense that condensed orange juice is so, or Tang, with their almost too powerful, bitter-sweet taste. The reader adds the waters of his mind and experience, so to speak, to explain the poem to himself. Compression gives poetry its specific density, its power.

Thus, first question: is it sufficiently compact? Too loose? Or, evcn, too compact?

Next, the subject. Is it a humanistic subject that somehow relates to us, when we’ve given it thought, yet also expands our consciousness of the matter? Is it very important, or trivial? How is it handled? Tritely, profoundly?

Then, the language. Precision of language = precision of feeling. Is it adequate or appropriate to its subject? To the poem’s intention? Is it plain, familiar language, or a godlike gift well above most mortals? Poetic or prosaic diction?

Does the poem touch us, get to out heart, mind, and the essence – the irreducible epitome – of our humanity in ways that advertisements, after-school specials, or even fine movies or novels, with their length, have failed to do?

Is the poetic line used to maximum effect, yet subordinated to the aesthetic whole?

Is it rhythmical? Is the full poem rhythmical?

Bush Song

A cock is the cry of morning,

cat is mousing the house,

among the mango trees,

Titi, the goat, is running,

in the creek,

because he thinks we want to eat him!

A goat is a man

who knows nothing of

the vanity of desire,

loneliness of time.

A lizard strides

in the morning sun.

My children laugh and scream and run,

across a continent,

across sea shells,

at noon,

and over the cool grasses

on sleepless nights, when

in the green

of drum beats,

in every dream,

Titi, the goat, is running,

because he thinks we want to kill him.

===============================

At Mother’s Grave

Tremor or shock,

Now bright, now clean,

This grain, this rock,

Will one day lean;

Aloof above

The body’s wear,

It keeps the grieved

Back from despair.

But should I find

The warp of stone

To maim the mind

As cancer bone?

Time will accept

Things as they are,

The least adept

The funeral car,

For it knows how

Things ought to be,

Sycophant’s bow,

Sensual spree,

The grain’s ripe vow,

The stone’s decree.

We pay $10/published poem. We are also eager for readers to recommend new or newish books, poetry, novels, memoirs, short story collections, etc., as well as neglected classics, worthy of review here.

Jeff Goodman is Lagniappe literary editor. Contact him at literaryed@lagniappemobile.com.

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