Poetry: Serious. Not That Serious.

Wallace Stevens: Pro's & Con'sI've been reading Wallace Stevens' The Palm at the End of the Mind: Selected Poems and A Play. Or I guess you could say trying to survive it. But while I began writing this post in a player-hating fashion, I came to realize there are substantially more reasons to love Stevens than want to tear my hair out. Or maybe these two feelings are co-existent. Or symbiotic. I don't know, but either way, you can understand why there's a website devoted to both friends and enemies of Wallace Stevens. Does he frustrate me because he challenges me? Or does he frustrate me because he frustrates me? Why Wallace Stevens Is So Frustrating1. The rhythms and the music are so beautiful, but you spend so much time trying to figure out WTF the man is trying to say—big words, BIGGER concepts—you can't enjoy it. It's like going back in time to dance with the most handsome man at Gatsby's party, and realizing he's expecting you to foxtrot, waltz, and jig, when all you know how to do is 1-2 step and a bit of ornamental grinding.2. They're too long. Say what you will about our ADD age, but I just can't pay this much concentrated attention to poems that have I II II IV parts, go on for ten pages, and expect me to be operating on a Nobel level the whole time. It's really not what I go to poetry for. Stevens throws too much on the heap to give me that transformative experience I'm jonesing for.3. What is with all the references to random historical figures or obscure characters from mythology and previous works of literature (this coming from someone who happens to know quite a bit about both these categories)? I don't like having to constantly google names while I am in middle of reading a poem. It takes me out of the experience. Additionally, sometimes it is unclear if Stevens has made up a character, or if it's a reference to a pre-existing literary mainstay. I am so sick of having to ask myself the question: “Am I supposed to know this?” In general, I hate poems and poets that ask me to have extensive background knowledge to understand what they're getting at. Even if I don't know some of the references, I should still be able to comprehend WTF the writer is getting at.I Guess There Are Some Good Parts, Too (A Concession)1. The problem is, I find some moments of lucidity in Stevens, and those moments make me feel like I'm missing out on other gorgeous, right-to-the-soul pieces. And I hate missing out on things—parties, trips, French fries. Here's one MOL (Moment of Lucidity) from Stevens' The Comedian as The Letter C (AN 18-PAGE, 6 PART POEM) that made me step back and go, DAMN HOMIE:How many poems he denied himselfIn his observant progress, lesser thingsThan the relentless contact he desired;How many sea-masks he ignored; what soundsHe shut out from his tempering ear; what thoughts,Like jades affecting the sequestered bride;And what descants, he sent to banishment!This is one of the reasons I go to poetry! Because I am like, oh my god! Somebody gets it! Somebody understands exactly how I feel. Stevens is addressing the tension many writers feel, between experiencing things/living your life like Rhianna said (“observant progress”) and doing the writing which stems from that experience (“How many poems he denied himself”). This stanza addresses all the writing writers miss out on by living, and all the living writers miss out on by writing (“How many sea-masks he ignored; what sounds/He shut out from his tempering ear”). 2. The language, oh, the language! Stevens' poems are DELICIOUS to read out loud, like eating a big juicy steak (or vegetarian “chicken” nuggets, whatever you're into) under a glittery palm tree in the middle of a subtropic paradise. From The Place of the Solitaires:Whether it be in mid-seaOn the dark, green water-wheel,Or on the beaches,There must be no cessationOf motion, or of the noise of motion,The renewal of noiseAnd manifold continuation; ”¦Now say that ten times fast. Your mouth will water. You will feel energized. Then you will feel calm. 3. AND THE COLORS! Stevens works with colors like no other before or since. He makes colors an integral part, a focal point, an obsession, of his poems. Often, when he's not being obtuse and using words like “panoply,” his work resembles that an impressionist painter. He makes you want to close your eyes and “see” what he is describing—and of course, what you see will be different from what your friend sees when she hears the poem and does the same thing. Which is cool to think about, AMIRITE? A great example of Stevens doing this can be found in Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock:The houses are hauntedBy white night-gowns.None are green,Or purple with green rings,Or green with yellow rings,Or yellow with blue rings.None of them are strange,With socks of laceAnd beaded ceintures.People are not goingTo dream of baboons and periwinkles.Only, here and there, an old sailor,Drunk and asleep in his boots,Catches tigersIn red weather. 4. Conceptually, Stevens does some really interesting things, such as in Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird, which describes—you guessed it—thirteen ways of looking at a blackbird in thirteen mercifully small parts. As a writer, he challenges me to try to see the same thing in many different ways, and to attempt forms or viewpoints I have never considered.--Lucy Hitz