4 Jan 2021 Ars Poetica #02 Poets Writing Poems About Poetry

Publishing a volume of verse is like dropping a rose-petal down the Grand Canyon and waiting for the echo.                    

Don Marquis

I've had it with these cheap sons of bitches who claim they love poetry but never buy a book.

                            Kenneth Rexroth

Ye who write, make choice of a subject suitable to your abilities.

                            Horace

Poems About Poetry? Yes, indeed. Don’t doubt it. That’s what Horace’s Ars Poetica is all about. Writing is a difficult venture, and writers can use all the guidance they can get. This is especially true of writing poetry, which many believe is more challenging still. Taking that to the logical extrapolation, writing poetry about poetry may be over the top. That said, dozens and dozens of poets – famous and obscure – have tried their hands at the task. Today, as in all future posts in this series, we feature a poet who has also applied native talent to the task of writing a poem about poetry – not about a single poem – although there are plenty of those as well, but a poem about the creative act itself, and what goes beyond when the poem is freed, like a rising bird, into the world.

Horace was a poet, but it is his epistle on the art of poetry, the dos and don’ts, the tools, the temperament, the shame, and the glory that arguably is the most well-remembered. (Remember that the original epistle was written as a poem in Latin.) Tough business! Today, we continue our exploration of Horace’s Ars Poetica, his foundational theory that examines the poetic art, gives advice to poets, and by way of the shared love of word-crafting, to all writers.

Interestingly, soon after I wrote the first installment of this series, posted 28 December 2020, I began to notice a change in my attitude and demeanor when writing my own poetry. Misplaced words and expressions leapt off the handwritten page (watch those phrases fly!) landing with a splat on the desk and floor. Ick! Don’t worry. This is a good thing. The chief lesson came from Horace’s initial caution to “keep it simple, stupid,” and focus on uniformity. A poet – any writer – must have a command of technique, no matter the mesmerizing fancy “purple patchwork.”[1]

This new, fourth category of the Monday posts explores the artistic range of poetry and its technical craft. As I pointed out in the first post of this new series, we will intersperse guest poets and when time and inspiration collide, verses by yours truly.

Note: A few technical details referenced by [#] appear at the bottom of this post for those of you who enjoy that sort of thing.

Below, we present the second excerpt from Ars Poetica. Words in bold are my own emphases on what seems to me to be Horace’s key teachings. Throughout the epistle, his advice tries to build up the imperatives that working together create a “good poem.” After all, that’s what we’re after – but pause – not until we’ve accumulated all of Horace’s lessons will we be able to explicate what and why that “good poem” pleases.

 

Second Excerpt from Horace’s Ars Poetica [2]      

The great majority of us poets, father, and youths worthy such a father, are misled by the appearance of right. I labor to be concise, I become obscure: nerves and spirit fail him, that aims at the easy: one, that pretends to be sublime, proves bombastical: he who is too cautious and fearful of the storm, crawls along the ground: he who wants to vary his subject in a marvelous manner, paints the dolphin in the woods, the boar in the sea. The avoiding of an error leads to a fault if it lacks skill.

A statuary about the Aemilian [3]  school shall of himself, with singular skill, both express the nails, and imitate in brass the flexible hair; unhappy yet in the main, because he knows not how to finish a complete piece. I would no more choose to be such a one as this, had I a mind to compose anything, than to live with a distorted nose, [though] remarkable for black eyes and jetty hair.

Ye who write, make choice of a subject suitable to your abilities; and revolve in your thoughts a considerable time what your strength declines, and what it is able to support. Neither elegance of style, nor a perspicuous disposition, shall desert the man, by whom the subject matter is chosen judiciously.

This, or I am mistaken, will constitute the merit and beauty of arrangement, that the poet just now says what ought just now to be said, put off most of his thoughts, and waive them for the present. 

Commentary by JPSavage:
The purpose of writing in the tradition of ars poetica, a meditation on poetry and using the forms and techniques of poetry, is in the final analysis, an attempt to usher into the world poets who are capable of writing better – or “good” – poems. But when it comes to guidance on these matters, let’s keep in mind that the ars poetica was extremely popular in ancient times. Apparently, folks were as prone to doling out advice back then as they are now. Even with only a tad of knowledge, people imagine themselves as experts, but some like Horace, actually are exceptional advice-givers. How many rules and norms laid down for writers to observe have been around as long as those of Horace. The genre of ars poetica typically include pointers on authorial techniques. Interestingly, such treatises regularly took the form of lengthy didactic [4] poems.

In the first paragraph presented, Horace outlines the difficulties of conciseness v. obscure, of sublime v. bombastical [sic], and of fearful v. “marvelous.” This last he expresses as “. . . paints the dolphin in the woods, the boar in the sea . . .” or placing an image in the wrong context in an effort to appear courageous and gutsy. Hitting the middle way among all these opposites is one of the challenges – or two or three – of poets and writers. The most important of these, in my opinion is “fear v. courage.” Rather than seek the very best metaphor or a muse-inspired word, rely on simple experience – that is actually Horace’s first recommendation from last week’s post.

Our guide through the circles of writing hells, quickly goes on to suggest what might make possible the skills of the previous paragraph. “Know thyself”, as spoken by another great thinker. In modern days, this would be like a “skills inventory” or a “strengths test”. Don’t overestimate yourself, but don’t doubt your worth either.

Finally, Horace eases up a bit, suggesting that we need only find the right word(s), and everything will be fine. Le mot juste! Ha!

 

POEM
Next, is an example a poem by Pablo Neruda wherein he tries to explain the art he practices. This is the second of many poems to come wherein the poet attempts to explain what poetry is to him. What strikes me most about the poet is his humility. For interest, see if you can find the words that express this. Also note how the poet examines himself as the subject of the poem.

 

?Poetry         

 by Pablo Neruda

And it was at that age ... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.
I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names,
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire,
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating plantations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.
And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
for myself a pure part of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.

(Translated form the Spanish by Alastair Reid) 

 

Background
An ars poetica poem is a poem examining the role of poets themselves as subject, their relationships to the poem, and the act of writing. Hopefully, this post has examined a little more of what that means.

The stereotype of the poet paints a picture of a thin, frail person sitting slumped over papers on the desk, pencil in hand, other hand against the forehead, holding up the head. The poet rarely goes out; the apartment (more likely a room) is a shambles, and most likely a straggly cat stalks the littered floor. True? If it is, it is because as Michael Weigers writes, “To write about poetry is to believe that there are answers to some of the questions poets ask of their art, or at least that there are reasons for writing it."[6] For a biography of Neruda, go here.

Exploration 1: If you were seriously writing poetry and also were the son of Horace, would you, so far, take his advice?

Exploration 2: In Neruda’s poem, identify how he assesses himself when poetry “finds” him, and then how it challenges him.

Exploration 3: Does the stereotype of the poet in the “Background” section ring true to you. If so, why? If not, why not?

 

Technical & Clarifying Notes:

1. In literary criticism, purple prose is prose text that is so extravagant, ornate, or flowery as to break the flow and draw excessive attention to itself. ... When it is limited to certain passages, they may be termed purple patches or purple passages, standing out from the rest of the work. (first cited in 28 Dec 20 post.)
2. See Horace’s bio at the end of the 28 Dec 20, below the usual “Explorations.”
3. At the end of the row of stalls down by the Aemilian gladiatorial school
4. Didactic poetry, which was not regarded as a separate genre by either Greek or Roman theorists, embraces a number of poetic works (usually in hexameters [5]) which aim to instruct the reader in a particular subject-matter, be it science, philosophy, hunting, farming, love, or some other art or craft.
5. Hexameter is a metrical line of verses consisting of six feet. It was the standard epic metre in classical Greek and Latin literature, such as in the Iliad, Odyssey and Aeneid. Its use in other genres of composition include Horace's writings.
6. Michael Weigers, editor of the anthology This Art: Poems about Poetry (Copper Canyon Press, 2003).