|
May 12: Geof Huth's blog entry for 10 May is a response to Ron Silliman's earlier entry for the same day. Subject: sentimentality in poetry. Actually, that may be only one of the main subjects for both, but it will be my main one for today. I believe (at the moment; with further thought I may change my mind) that every lyric poem is an expression of some sentiment, some felt view of existence. A poem is sentimental to the degree that the route to its core sentiment has (1) too many too overt arrows helping an engagent along it; and (2) too few brambles, pits, gaps, false turns and other obstacles hindering an engagent.
An example, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, from memory so probably inaccurate: "So many gods, so many creeds/ So many paths that wind and wind/ When just the art of being kind/ is all this sad world needs." At the age of 18 or 19, I wrote that on the ceiling of my bedroom--as a gesture of sarcasm.
This poem's core sentiment is the view that a world without competing outlooks in which everyone was kind to everyone else would be a good thing. Does it have too many overt arrows pointing to it? That would be a matter of opinion. I think the first two lines indirect enough. One isn't likely to know what they're leading to. The first line has no obstacles between it and the core sentiment to come, but the second line is (mildly) metaphorical, so can be considered somewhat a hindrance for the engagent. The last two lines are absolutely direct, though. Furthermore, the view that the conflictless world posed as an ideal would be a good one has an extra arrow pointing to it, the adjective "sad," which is used to describe the world as it is, with all its competing gods, creeds and paths.
The worst sentimentality of the poem its claim that all we need to do to bring this ideal world into being is to be kind. Why? Because, as the final leg of the poem's route to its core sentiment, it is so simplistically free of obstacles. No mention of the difficulty of determining what kindness is in some many real-world situations. No mention of the difficulty of effectively being kind, even when you know what you should do. No mention of the possible unanticipated side-effects of universal kindness.
Expect more on this. I don't feel I've gotten a proper grip on what I want to say. One thing is bothering me. I think I've tried too hard to reduce sentimentality in poetry to two things. Probably, I should divide poetic sentimentality into two kinds; aesthetic sentimentality and conceptual sentimentality. Sentimentality of technique, and sentimentality of foreburden. Maybe I can come up with something better on this tomorrow. If I return to the subject.
|
|
e.mail me HERE |