Free
Verse Mind: Part 1
I
want to take a few posts to think about what I sometimes call ‘free verse
mind’. What I mean by ‘free verse mind’
is an inability to see the function of form.
More, I mean the inability on the part of free verse practitioners to see
the beauty of form and why form has a power which transcends any particular
example of that form. At times I think
of this as akin to being deaf; only in this case it is being deaf to form.
This
is not universally true. There are
significant free verse poets who also compose formal verse; Dana Gioia and
Edith Shiffert come to mind. So I’m not
saying that writing in free verse inevitably leads to form deafness. But there does seem to be, at least in my
observation, a connection between form deafness and writing free verse
poetry. Perhaps the relationship is
something like this: if someone is form deaf and they become attracted to
poetry, then such a person will write free verse. On the other hand, someone who is not form
deaf may or may not also write free verse.
Perhaps
it will be clearer what form deafness means by exploring what it means to
compose poetry using the parameters of a previously existing form. I think the best example for English poetry
would be the Sonnet. To write a Sonnet
in English means to enter into a conversation with the Sonnet tradition. I mean by ‘conversation’ that a Sonnet writer
will be aware of the heritage of the form; to a greater or lesser degree. In general Sonnet writers know of famous
English Sonneteers who have preceded them; such as Shakespeare, Wordsworth,
Dunne, Millay, etc. Often a contemporary
Sonnet writer will have previous Sonnet writers in mind; at times they may have
a particular previously composed Sonnet as an ideal. It is my experience that sonneteers have
often memorized their favorite sonnets.
When Sonnet writers get together, either in person or online,
discussions of the tradition and how previous poets have constructed their
Sonnets are the main topic. There is a
strong sense of being embedded in a tradition.
And there is a strong sense of being part of a living community based on
that Sonnet form.
With
free verse, it seems to me, the situation differs. There is a tradition of free verse. There are also favorite free verse poets from
the past; e.g. Whitman. But the
discussion differs from the kinds of discussions that take place with formal
verse, it seems to me. Though there is a
free verse tradition it is not a tradition of form. In a sense it is a tradition of
anti-form.
The
difference I am pointing to partly centers on the hope of being original. If I am writing a Sonnet I am not primarily
focused on being original with the parameters of the poem. For example, if I use a Shakespearean rhyme
scheme, that is a rhyme scheme that is given, inherited; I didn’t invent
it. Others have used it and now I am
using it as well. The rhyme scheme is
not my property, achievement or something I can own, nor is it distinctive of
my personal expression. It is part of
the inherited Sonnet Recipe, if you will.
In contrast, if I write a free verse poem in the style of Whitman (say
by engaging in a long series of parallelisms that mimic some of Whitman’s
poems), that would be seen as being derivative; it would be looked at as a flaw. Or if I adopted some of Bukowski’s syntax, that
would also be seen as derivative and unoriginal. My point here is that by its very nature free
verse poetry undermines the idea that mimicking the structures of past poets in
the free verse tradition is something to aspire to. It is, rather, something to be avoided if one
wants to make a name for one’s self in the field of free verse poetry. In contrast, with formal poetry, adopting the
structural features of previous poets is part of what makes formal verse formal
verse.
Part
of what I think constitutes free verse mind is a certain unexamined view of the
past. It is a characteristic shared by
both moderns and post-moderns that our current time and age are in some
important sense different from ages past.
I refer to this view as ‘chronocentrism’; I mean by ‘chornocentrism’ an
exaltation, or inflation, of the present at the expense of the past.
In
contrast, traditionalists tend to look at the past as offering lessons, advice,
examples both positive and negative, which one can apply to one’s own
life. Underlying this traditionalist
view is that our time is not that different from times past, that people
haven’t changed in any basic way. If one
has this kind of traditionalist view then those who lived in the past are part
of an overriding humanity, part of a community that is inclusive of one’s
self.
Another
aspect, connected to chronocentrism, of free verse mind is a kind of hyper
individualism. One can see this, at
times, in Whitman and I think Whitman has set a kind of precedent for this
hyper individualism. I mean by this
those long passages in some of Whitman’s poems where he goes on at length about
himself in praiseworthy verses. To be
honest, at times I find it embarrassing; but I know I’m a minority here.
Working
with an inherited form undermines hyper individualism. Instead there is a tendency to see one’s own
efforts, say in the Sonnet, as just one contribution among many. There is an inherent modesty in working with
an inherited form.
All
of this combines, I think, to make the transcendental beauty of form something
that many free verse poets simply are unable to access; the psychological
barriers are too great. If, as a poet,
you think of yourself as a rugged individualist, and your goal is primarily
self-expression, it isn’t too difficult to see that this would make one
inclined to reject pre-existing forms because a pre-existing form limits the
range of self-expression. In addition,
if one believes that one’s own time is fundamentally different from past eras,
that would effectively raise a barrier to using a form from the past because
the past has nothing to offer this new era in which we live.
The
above analysis is not universally applicable.
It has been my observation that for many younger poets today, trained at
universities and various poetry workshops, connected with the contemporary
poetry ‘scene’, free verse is simply the way they do poetry. I mean that for many younger poets there has
been no opportunity to learn about formal verse and their acceptance of free
verse norms is thoughtless. I don’t mean
‘thoughtless’ in the sense of lacking in intelligence; rather I mean not really
considered or weighed. Many younger
poets have never been introduced to formal verse (metrical or syllabic) and
write free verse simply because that is what they have been taught.
One
can, however, observe how strong the psychological barriers are to formal verse
in an individual when they are shown how formal verse works. This sometimes happens accidentally by
running across some formal verse that is also contemporary, or through an
auspicious friendship, or, sometimes, a teacher they respect. If the poet responds to this kind of
information with openness, then the above analysis does not apply. If, on the other hand, they respond with
sarcasm, or trumped up ideological critiques, then, I suspect, something akin
to the above analysis probably applies.
Most
poets I know, including myself, who compose syllabic verse in specific forms,
came to formal syllabic verse from free verse.
In my own case, recognizing the potential of syllabic verse came slowly;
it was a long process. Others I know
have plunged right into a syllabic approach.
So the transition is possible and, from what I have observed, rewarding.
But
for the free verse poet who is trapped by their own chronocentrism, such a
transition remains highly problematical.
For such a poet to compose poetry in a pre-existing form would mean,
from their perspective, to be ‘going backwards’; a phrase I have heard several
free verse poets use. They mean that
formal verse is in some sense backwards, of another time, or not relevant. Because they remain trapped in their own
chronocentric ideology, they literally are unable to see the beauty of form and
its attractiveness.
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