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Pif Magazine
Pif Magazine |
In Our Own Words (I and II)
Although I am a Gen X-er, I may not be the intended audience for In Our Own Words, two collections of poems attempting to capture the multitudinous voices of Generation X. "Poetry purists may wince now and then in reading through this anthology," editor Marlow Peerse Weaver writes in the introduction to the anthology's first volume. "The mission of this book, however, was never restricted to showcasing wordsmiths and their refined mechanical manipulation of words and imagery. Sought were expressions from the hearts and souls of the writers, the hearts and souls of a generation." Weaver is big into hearts and souls: "Finally, while prose can drift off into the local, rational, yes, sterile, poetry tends more to come from the heart and soul, and guts of those who wrote it." I don't know if I'm a poetry purist, but I am definitely a grammar purist: punctuation like that makes me crazy. And the sentiment makes me crazy, too. In my opinion, good writing of any genre comes from a combination of brain and viscera; it needs an emotional impetus, but it also needs to be well crafted. The paired notions that intellectual writing is automatically bad and emotional poetry is automatically good make me want to tear my hair out. The two editions of In Our Own Words were assembled in an interesting way. Weaver posted a call for youth poetry submissions on his Web site, www.evenstar.net, in early 1998. He received thousands of submissions, written by poets born between 1961 and 1982; he selected 214 poems by 145 poets for inclusion in the first volume of In Our Own Words, and Volume II contains 340 poets from 37 nations. I can't help applauding Weaver's initiative, and I'm thrilled that thousands of poems have been rolling in. I'm delighted that poetry is on the rise. But Weaver's anti-intellectual stance bugs me. It reminds me of a bright young woman I met in an online writing group, who said "I love writing poetry, but I hate reading it." She regards writing poetry as an expression of heart and soul; reading it, at least for her, is an activity of the brain. Which means it isn't fun. Which makes me sad because reading good poetry is all about brain and heart and soul and guts all combined. Combine brain and heart and soul and guts and you get a whole person, which is what I think poetry's meant to speak to - and speak from. If our young poets are not willing to read poetry, to treat poetry as a craft in which an apprenticeship might be appropriate, then where is poetry headed? If a musician said "I like writing songs, but I hate listening to music" - if an artist said, "I like making painting, but I hate looking at art" - wouldn't we find that strange? Then why are so many people (Weaver included, evidently) willing to accept the notion of poetry-as-emotional-outpouring, instead of insisting on a notion of poetry as an art form grounded in its own history? The good news is, although I disagree with Weaver's theories of selection, I like some of the poems he chose for publication. Take, for instance, these lines from "Talkin' 'bout My G-G-G-G-Generation," by C.C. Russell of Wheatland, WY.
I like these lines; I like their cynical tone, and I like the images Russell chooses. Strong, also, are these lines from "Felidae" by Joy Reid of Sale, Victoria, Australia:
I love the pops of the plosives in these lines, the way they sound aloud. |
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