[John Whitworth]

A selected what, Orwn?

[Orwn Acra]

Book of your poems, John.

[E. Shaun Russell]

A little off-topic, but whenever I see the title of this thread, I'm reminded of Auden's excoriation of Longfellow in Forewords and Afterwords (short version: Auden thinks he's the dumbest of all poets). I've never been able to read Longfellow with a straight face since.

[Julie Steiner]

Heh, Shaun!

On a similar note, I love the "good bad poems" passage near the end of Orwell's contemptuous essay on Kipling:

A good bad poem is a graceful monument to the obvious. It records in memorable form — for verse is a mnemonic device, among other things — some emotion which very nearly every human being can share. [...] Such poems are a kind of rhyming proverb, and it is a fact that definitely popular poetry is usually gnomic or sententious. One example from Kipling will do:

White hands cling to the bridle rein,
Slipping the spur from the booted heel;
Tenderest voices cry ‘Turn again!’
Red lips tarnish the scabbarded steel:
Down to Gehenna or up to the Throne,
He travels the fastest who travels alone.

There is a vulgar thought vigorously expressed. It may not be true, but at any rate it is a thought that everyone thinks. Sooner or later you will have occasion to feel that he travels the fastest who travels alone, and there the thought is, ready made and, as it were, waiting for you. So the chances are that, having once heard this line, you will remember it.

One reason for Kipling's power as a good bad poet I have already suggested — his sense of responsibility, which made it possible for him to have a world-view, even though it happened to be a false one. [...] It is a great thing in his favour that he is not witty, not ‘daring’, has no wish to épater les bourgeois. He dealt largely in platitudes, and since we live in a world of platitudes, much of what he said sticks.

(Full essay here.)

Oh, and I'm reminded of James Kenneth Stephen's hilarious critique-in-verse of Wordsworth, too--one of my favorite sonnets ever.

[Andrew Mandelbaum]

Originally Posted by Ian Hoffman

I find much of the best work I've read from you, Ann and Wendy to be, well, "light". And I don't mean that in a negative sense—it is very good, clever, accomplished, even ingenious and moving, too. But it somehow—and this may just be a personal tick—doesn't reach for the same "seriousness" as some of Alicia's poems (not all, of course).

Or maybe I'm just not familiar enough with your ouvre.


Ian

I disagree that Ann's work lacks in seriousness.

[James Brancheau]

I don't know Ann's work enough, tho liked what I've read. Alicia gets thrown around here and there. She's an artist who happens to write formally. There's something else that distinguishes her. But really you know that.

[Roger Slater]

Originally Posted by John Whitworth

That's the lady. Jolly good but not IMO way out ahead of everybody else.

I consider myself as good as Wendy, Ann, and Sophie. Do you think they are better, Jayne?

Someone who is modest has usually (as in the case of Clem Atlee) plenty to ne modest about.

Name we a modest poet. Pshaw!

The thing about declaring yourself to be wonderful, however, is that it's a no-win situation. Those who agree that you're a wonderful poet don't need you to tell them, and those that disagree will just think you're a deluded hack. It's safer just to let other people form their own opinions.

[David Anthony]

Originally Posted by Julie Steiner

Heh, Shaun!





Oh, and I'm reminded of James Kenneth Stephen's hilarious critique-in-verse of Wordsworth, too--one of my favorite sonnets ever.

Yes, it's a fine sonnet, and skewers Wordsworth.
I was thinking of his "Westminster Bridge" though, the other day. One of the best sonnets I know.

[Roger Slater]

Basically, his earlier stuff was great and then he entered into a literary senility that lasted decades.

[Andrew Szilvasy]

Originally Posted by Ian Hoffman

I'd snatch one up.

Me too.

Ian, I'm largely in accord with your post right before this. Alicia Stallings is sort of ahead of everyone in that list, for me.