Although, I am rather fond of my “Fear the Poet” T-shirt.

But sometimes it’s in the laundry.

And I do think it’s a competition-based thing, perhaps belonging to the academic frenzy for pre-eminence that dominates American poetry at the moment.

And only for the moment. That moment is fast passing. Perhaps online, non-academically based critics like Ron Silliman will help change that paradigm.

Rachel

At the risk of oversimplifying, I think we tend to miss our own use of categorization in refuting the application of “labels” to our work. For example, Yokel makes reference to a diagnostic label, and Collin uses age and academic history to define a particular group of people. Mind: I don’t think anyone’s really _wrong_ in this thread, but I think we’re not really trying hard enough to each other’s points.

Maybe this is a perspective that comes naturally to me from 20+ years of processing all kinds of data for a living, but I really believe this can be explained quite simply using a statistics analog: To rationally discuss any set of data as a group, it is necessary to define its tendencies and its limits, and to assume these define the population with sufficient confidence (measured in %) to be meaningful. However, the tendencies and limits do not in any way permit the evaluation of a single data point within that population, except to say that it “probably” is part of the population or “probably” isn’t. So whatever anyone may say about the tendencies of a poet or poetics, each poem, by definition, remains individually describable.

Geeky take on the topic, I know. And I do accept that the term “SoQ” carries with it a connotation unattractive to those who feel it applied to them (as I’m sure it would be to me, if I were accomplished enough as a poet to merit the review of my work). However, the more information you attempt to process in a single argument, the more classifications are not only helpful, they are required.

And I’ll take an XL after you hook Joanie up with that T-shirt.

I assume you realize what a fallacy it is to claim something is good because it makes people uncomfortable. But maybe you don’t.

I also assume you realize that “School of Quietude” is a snide, patronizing name equivalent to referring to all avant poetry as something like “The Nutty Nonsense Style.” But maybe you don’t.

Your positive advocacy for some writers and styles is thorough, well considered, and amazing to behold. The negative dogma you propagate under the guise of bullshit sophistry like “the simple process of naming” is ugly, stupid, and unfortunate. There certainly are ugly dogmatists with opposing views to yours, but I’ll damn well bet you know one can’t use someone else’s wrongdoing to justify one’s own.

Sincerely,
Whatever I Am, It’s not “SoQ”

I have to confess that there’s a little narrow-minded individual inside me that believes any poem that you can’t read and get something out of it a bad poem. I think he’s wrong but he does have quite a loud voice and a good case.

What annoys me more than anything is an attitude, especially prevalent in exponents of so-called experimental poetry, that if you don’t get a certain poem then the fault lies with the reader. Experiments fail more often than they succeed but how does one know if an experimental poem has failed? Surely this is for the reader to decide not the poet. I think a lot of people have the same fear that exists in the art world, no one knows enough, or is brave enough, to call a lot of modern art crap.

“Never explain” Basil Bunting advised fledgling poets “your reader is as smart as you.” No we’re not, not by a long chalk. Is a poem that’s technically brilliant but at the same time so esoteric that it can only be understood by those few scholars willing to put in the hours actually a good poem? I don’t think so. I’ll keep reading them, I’ll keep trying to understand them (I’ve just sent off for E E Cumming’s six nonlectures) but I am so often disappointed.