Poetry: On the Page vs. Read Aloud

Last week, my friend Andrew said to me, “I like attending your readings, but your poetry really comes alive on the page.”

I asked my Twitter followers and Facebook friends which they prefer, and it seems Andrew is very much in a minority position. I’m speculating here, but perhaps he prefers it on the page because he’s an English major. We English majors spend four or more years at university learning how to read differently than lay readers. He may want to spend more time with each poem, deriving its meaning, analyzing my use of rhetorical devices, and so on.

As for my opinion on the topic, it depends on the poet. I attended a Billy Collins reading at the University of Tulsa a couple years ago, and, though I was already a fan, hearing him read added something extra. His cadence and tone highlighted certain images, made his frequent jokes funnier, and helped me feel connected to the poems.

Some poets are awful readers of their work, though. I found a CD at Barnes & Noble featuring 20th century American poets reading selected works. The worst reader on the disc is Robert Frost. I don’t think many would deny that Frost is among the literary greats, but his drab, rushed presentation of “The Road Less Travelled” disappoints. While I was still trying to decide which road to take, he was already finished. I didn’t feel the emotional pull that I get when I read it myself.

Then there are poems that don’t make sense when read aloud. E.E. Cummings has several like this, poems in which the form serves a necessary function. Example:

1(a

le
af
fa
ll

s)
one
l

iness

So what’s your preference? Do you like poems on the page or read aloud?

For those who prefer the audio/visual experience, here is Billy Collins reading three poems at the 2007 Aspen Ideas Festival.

That Song in My Head

This is the first post in a new series I’m calling Method Monday, in which I will discuss aspects of my writing process. The posts won’t necessarily be instructive, as I’m only sharing how I do things, but feel free to adopt any methods that may benefit your writing. Today, I’ll be talking a bit about a particular type of inspiration.

For the past couple weeks, I’ve been getting this song stuck in my head.

Good thing I like the song. It’s torture to get a bad song in your head.

The same sort of thing often happens when I’m working on a new poem. A line or two comes to me and sticks. Sometimes I write it down and find the rest of the poem. Sometimes the process isn’t so easy. I write the line down in my notebook, then I keep coming back to it over a week or two. Or a month. Or a year.

Sometimes, just like those songs in my head, I have the line(s), but I just can’t seem to find the rhythm. That’s when frustration hits. If I could just get the right beat, I could finally sing this song out of my head becomes if I could just get the right beat, I could finally write this poem out of my head. Those latter poems, the ones that replay a thousand times and won’t seem to leave me alone, become my better poems. As well they should after all that trouble.

Poetry doesn’t always come to me this way, and it may not for you, but when/if it does, don’t let that line get away from you. It may be just what you need.

Friday Favorite–Dr. Seuss

 

I have two young children, which means some days include me reading more children’s books than adult books. Thank God for Dr. Seuss. Most kid lit is awful for adults, but I enjoy reading Dr. Seuss’ limerick filled books. The fun stories, easy cadence, and unique illustrations engage both adult reader and child listener.

There’s also something about the nostalgia of reading books to my children that were read to me when I was their age. They deserve their classic status.

I think that many people overlook the wisdom contained in these works. “A person’s a person no matter how small” from Horton Hears a Who is only one example.

Too bad my children aren’t as motivated to eat what we serve them as much as they would be if we served green eggs and ham.

Friday Favorite–Billy Collins

I’ve enjoyed the work of Billy Collins for several years now, probably beginning with Sailing Around the Room (2001). I like what I assume most people like about his poetry: it’s often humorous. But it’s not cheap humor. His work shows great attention to detail and an impressive knowledge base. You may well laugh at surface level humor, but don’t ignore references to classic literature and his command of traditional forms. Billy Collins served two terms as U.S. Poet Laureate, an honor he well deserves.

Here are a few YouTube reading videos. Enjoy

Write Drunk. Edit Sober.

An alcoholic is someone you don’t like who drinks as much as you do.
Dylan Thomas (1914 – 1953) (quotationspage.com)

Dylan Thomas having a beer.

Alcohol has long held a (honorable?) place in literary culture. Sometimes it takes over. The early deaths of Truman Capote, Dylan Thomas, and many other writers can attest to that. But if you are one who can drink in moderation, go for it. Pour yourself a double and get to work on that novel, short story, essay, or poem.

Alcohol is a social lubricant for me. When I drink, I talk and talk and talk. When I drink around paper, my pen does the talking. A couple glasses of Scotch (neat, please, Mr. Bartender) or a Gin Martini (Beefeater, dry) has helped me through a few blocks.

The greatest risk when drinking while writing, for me at least, is that I lose exactness. My ideas flow as freely as the booze, but my specifics falter. I make careless grammatical errors. I present ideas out of order. I ramble.

That’s why it’s important to edit sober. Take out that draft the next day, if you aren’t too hungover, and comb through it. After you correct the mechanics, you may well have a fine draft. This is simple advice really, but I know several writers who indulge in writing drunk then fail to sober up for the editing process.

Here’s to the brewers and distillers and to good writing! Cheers!

So I have a Kindle now…

Carolyn and the kids gave it to me for Father’s Day. I got it a week early, because I guessed what my gift was and kept reminding Carolyn that I let her open her Mother’s Day gift early. We don’t do well with surprises around here.

I was skeptical about e-readers for a long time, but I can’t be a Luddite forever. Then again, it is working out fine for the Amish. I digress. I haven’t had the Kindle long enough to have any definitive opinions about it. I already feel comfortable with it, though, so that’s good. I wonder how the battery life is. Maybe I will test it by reading Infinite Jest or Ulysses. Or both. I don’t think I will ever stop buying paper books. Here’s to a mixed library!

In other news, the June 2011 edition of Third Thursday Poetry Night is this week at Ida Red in Tulsa, OK. Our featured poets are MistyRose and myself.

I’ve been talking to my poet friend Monty Wheeler about driving down from the Ozarks for a future month’s event. Hopefully that will work out. I think you’ll really enjoy his writing. If you’re interested in reading at Third Thursday Poetry Night, email me thirdthursdaypoetry@gmail.com

Event: Third Thursday Poetry Night–June 2011

I just created the Facebook event page for Third Thursday Poetry Night–June 2011. It is this Thursday, June 16 8pm at Ida Red.

Our poets this month are:

MistyRose

MistyRose is a frequent reader at Open Mic Night at Gypsy Coffee House. She was also a semi-finalist at Living Arts Tulsa’s Annual Poetry Slam.

Randall Weiss

Randall Weiss is the organizer and host for Third Thursday Poetry Night. You can read selected poems at his blog. www.randallweiss.wordpress.com

For more info about Third Thursday Poetry Night, including information about being a featured poet, click here.

Friday Favorite–Joseph Heller

“There was only one catch and that was Catch-22, which specified that a concern for one’s own safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind. Orr was crazy and could be grounded. All he had to do was ask; and as soon as he did, he would no longer be crazy and would have to fly more missions. Orr would be crazy to fly more missions and sane if he didn’t, but if he was sane, he had to fly them. If he flew them, he was crazy and didn’t have to; but if he didn’t want to, he was sane and had to. Yossarian was moved very deeply by the absolute simplicity of this clause of Catch-22 and let out a respectful whistle.

“That’s some catch, that Catch-22,” he observed.

“It’s the best there is,” Doc Daneeka agreed.”

The above passage is from Joseph Heller’s novel Catch-22 and is only one example of Heller’s distinctive tone and style. Heller is an author who is difficult describe, so I’ll just give more quotes from Catch-22, and you can decide for yourself whether he’s worth your time.

“Havermeyer was a lead bombardier who never missed. Yossarian was a lead bombardier who had been demoted because he no longer gave a damn whether he missed or not. He had decided to live forever or die in the attempt, and his only mission each time he went up was to come down alive.”

“This time Milo had gone too far. Bombing his own men and planes was more than even the most phlegmatic observer could stomach, and it looked like the end for him. … Milo was all washed up until he opened his books to the public and disclosed the tremendous profit he had made. “

“There was no established procedure for evasive action. All you needed was fear and Yossarian had plenty of that. “

Happy reading,

Randall

Open Letter to V.S. Naipaul

I had a Friday Favorite post ready to go, but I’ve decided to instead post an open letter to V.S. Naipaul regarding his recent assertion that no female writer is his equal.

Dear Mr. Naipaul,

Let me first say that I enjoy your writing. I’ve read several works and found each quite moving. You are certainly deserving of the Nobel prize in literature and other awards you’ve won, but it seems this recognition has led to arrogance instead of literary statesmanship. Arrogance is a particular damaging vice; it takes those who have previously displayed intelligence and shows that they are instead quite stupid.

And that is what your recent comments about women writers has done. You have made yourself a fool.

Your argument relies on two supports, that women writers display “sentimentality, the narrow view of the world” and “inevitably for a woman, she is not a complete master of a house, so that comes over in her writing too.”

Allow me to respond to these points in order. Much has been said about sentimentality, and it is often considered a weakness in writing, but I disagree. I will concede that too much sentimentality can be detrimental to a work, but so can complete denial of sentiment. Someone who doesn’t feel, who isn’t emotional moved by people and places, isn’t fit to be an author. Maybe he or she would be the perfect journalist, just reporting the facts, but that person is not fit to be novelist or poet. I guess this leaves the question of whether women are more likely to be too sentimental in their writing. I’ve read enough to know that some are too sentimental and some aren’t. Some men are too sentimental, too. Assuming that all women are too sentimental implies that women lack rational thinking processes. This assumption is terribly misguided and shows that you are the one who has a “narrow view of the world.”

Regarding your “master of the house” argument, let me remind you that you are often classified as a “postcolonial” writer. You write from a perspective and about issues pertaining to a culture that is oppressed. How is this different than women writing about oppression by patriarchy? The oppressed always will and always should write about their oppression. It is part of the process by which they are empowered. You, of all people, should understand this process. I hope that you realize this and, instead of continuing their oppression, join their struggle.

By the way, even though women often write about their struggle against our male-dominated society, that isn’t all they write about. If you actually read them, you would know that.

If this letter finds you, I hope it finds you well, and I hope that you reconsider your previous statements. You, sir, have much to learn from women.

Regards,

Randall Weiss