Showing posts with label creative process. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creative process. Show all posts

Jan 22, 2014

Mary Ruefle, Kurt Vonnegut and the Problem of Anti-War Literature


Cat with No Tail

It’s supremely difficult to raise an anti-war poem above the level of shouted, trite protest. Vonnegut succeeded in Slaughterhouse-Five, largely because he was aware that “writing an anti-war book is like writing an anti-glacier book.” He sees from the get-go that he must do something new, and he does.
Paper Mill

I’ve started exploring the poetry of Mary Ruefle (ROOF-lee), and the half-dozen or so poems I've read are brainy, but also emotional and witty. Her turns are often abrupt or extreme, but they're earned, legitimate, and purposeful, I think.  I'll have to reread to feel more confident about that, but I’m optimistic.
Lovers, Thinkers

Here’s Mary Ruefle’s poem, “The Letter,” which I particularly like. It’s a poem about the history of love, tragedy, and human transience as well as war, and that multidimensional feature is much of what I admire:   


Grackles, Florida
The generically evil, invading army in the first five lines felt a bit different, somehow more creative than most writing about evil, invading armies, but I wasn’t sure Ruefle would bring it off. Then Jocko’s frozen tear made me pretty sure the poem had me in its grip and would keep me there—once more, the power of a single detail.
Thinkers, Lovers

By the way, here’s a site that has many videos of poets reading, including Reufle. It’s a good place for an initial impression of any one of many poets.








Dec 31, 2009

New Year's Poem: "Kubla Khan" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge












Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge : The Poetry Foundation [poem] : Find Poems and Poets. Discover Poetry.

So I suppose you're saying, "What does this have to do with New Year's? This poem's about sex and creativity--the mighty fountain and all that. And everything's fertile and sensuous--he can't write about this from Michigan in winter. And he better not sing about it with that damned banjo."

Well, dudes and dudettes, Xanadu is also a place as paradoxical as it is sensuous, sexual, dynamic, creative, and fertile: "It was a miracle of rare device, / A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice." Kubla Khan made it, and like him, I have a few Abyssinian maids up my sleeve. Dulcimer and banjo, dulcimer and banjo. When it works, it works.

And here in the midst of my creations, have I not heard you singing about my works and me:

. . . Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.


Or was it George Clooney you were gonna weave a circle 'round?

Happy New Year.

Kubla Khan by Samuel Taylor Coleridge : The Poetry Foundation [poem] : Find Poems and Poets. Discover Poetry.


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Lovers' Lane