I've got the best gig on the Sphere, and I thank all of you for participating. Alicia, Greg Williamson, Tim Steele, Sam Gwynn, Paul Lake, Dave Mason, Rhina, our Master of Memory, Golias' Razor, The first great Sonnet Bake-off by Dick Davis, Professor Hecht, more fun than a man should have! Alan and I leave Feb 3 for Key West to see the Wilburs. Please post your questions on this thread. Richard uses a 1948 Underwood and a coal-fired phone, but we'll be toting a wireless laptop. We shall select questions and take dictation from Mr. Parnassus. May I suggest that everyone think seriously about these questions. I don't want to wade through seas of ghafla, and our time with Dick will be very limited. Every questioner should begin by rereading his Collected Poems.

Then Alan and I proceed to the Virgin Islands for the balance of Feb, and the inmates will take over the asylum. Upon my return I plan to ask Deborah Warren, Clive Watkins, and David Anthony to do guest appearances. David's trade book is out, and Deborah's and Clive's are coming in February. Then I'm going to implore Rhina to adjudicate Sonnet Bake-off # 2.

When I read this, my first thought was, "I'm being messed with [the word in my head was a little more explicit than, "messed", tho]" You might as well say to me, ask the Pope or Socrates a question--c'mon, go 'head. Actually, it's a little ironic, because my teacher had just suggested I write to Wilbur after I had praised his translation of "Lot's Wife" by Anna Akhmatova, but I never suspected it could be possible.

Alright, I've thought long and hard about this question, so here goes:

I am a young poet (or would-be poet), and by young I don't mean like, I could qualify for the Yale Award for Younger Poets young, I mean that I'm only eighteen years old and won't be in college till next year. As of right now, my plan's are to go into journalism (which, unless the Norton Anthology of Modern Poetry decieves me, you yourself went into for some time in your youth) and continue to write and read poetry when ever I can--and journalism because I like it and because I feel it might help me to cultivate more experience and a broader scope of humanity. My question is, what kind of "lifestyle" should a younger poet cultivate? Should I drop journalism and devote myself to literature if I ever want to become a good poet? And from your own experience, does journalism help or hinder the creative/literary faculties? It is a great, it is a huge honor to ask you this question, Mr. Wilbur, and I will consider whatever you say with the utmost gravity (I hope that doesn't sound pretentious, but really, I will).

-Kevin Corbett

[This message has been edited by kevincorbett (edited January 25, 2003).]

I'm rather new to this board but let me say I am so impressed. Wow. What a magnificient opportunity for a wanna-be poet. I will thank you copiously in advance for sharing your time and insight with me. I am serious and sincere about wanting to hone my writing skills - it is my dream and goal to be published someday. I've read many articles that say how difficult it is to be published by a major house, unless you are very well networked with "academia" and the circles they spin. So, my question is this:

Is that your experience as well? Or is there another way?

I would also boldly take the liberty (please?)of asking you one more thing:

What is the best way for me to hone my skills? (I consider myself a knowledgeable beginner - I've only been writing poetry for about a year and a half), other than posting to internet sites like this, reading how-to books, or by reading the work of great poets - are writer's conferences (such as Breadloaf in Vermont, etc.) really worth the time and money? Should I look into taking some poetry classes at a local college? How can I find a mentor who will work with me and point out my weaknesses, plus guide me in honing my skills? I am willing to make the necessary investments in order to reach my goals. I would deeply appreciate your insight, and any other suggestions you could make, that could help me find that path.
Thank you!

Holy macaroon.

I've waited a long time for this one, Tim.

I probably won't even be able to bloody speak.

Dear Tim

This is splendid news about Wilbur. Thank you for setting it up.

(Thank you, as well, for your invitation to me. In fact, I believe my book - and Deborah's - will appear not in February but in the second half of April. Covers are being designed just now.)

Best wishes to you and Alan for your winter voyage!

Clive

Cookala, I'll answer your questions. Don't concern yourself with publication at this stage. Of the staff members here who have published trade press books, Alicia was the only youngster, at 31. I was 48, and Clive, David, and Deborah are all in their fifties.

I've looked at a few other sites, and if you're interested in writing formal verse, nothing is in the league of the Erato workshops. By all means take courses at a local college, preferably in literature rather than creative writing. Find some great teachers. Most important, don't just read great poetry, but memorize it. My undergraduate tutor had me memorize roughly 30,000 lines of poetry, and that exercise developed my memory and confered upon me a highly trained ear which simply doesn't allow me to make metrical errors.

For an on-line intro to contemporary Formal poets, try www.poemtree.com and The New Formalist's e-books, both of which are anthologies which feature a great deal of work by senior members of the 'Sphere. The Conference on Form and Narrative a West Chester University in Pennsylvania is terrific and worth every penny (it's much cheaper than Breadloaf!)

Finally, be very patient. Though I wrote and published in my teens, the earliest extant poem in my first book was written at age 25, simply because it took 8 years for me to get the most fundamental grasp of meter and rhyme.

Now, some additional thoughts for everyone. When I say our time will be limited, I mean very limited. So the questions I pass on will be few in number, and I'll respond to others directly, as I have above. I'm also going to select half a dozen poems by our members, post them here, and have Richard critique those efforts. He has a knack for saying more about a poem in two sentences than most people can in two pages, and I think this will be the most valuable aspect of his brief visit.

This is a preposterous exercise in Solomonic Judgment, worse than picking 12 sonnets for the Bake-off! I'm going to ask Dick to discuss poems by eight of our members with whose work I expect him to be utterly unfamiliar (which rules out many of us). Cherryburn by Clive Watkins, Night Train by Shekhar Aiyar, Evening Benediction by Oliver Murray, Cervantes' Death In Life, tr. by Roger Slater, Wild Immanuel by John Beaton, The True Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes by Richard Wakefield, The Water Bearer by David Anthony, and Hic! by Jim Hayes. In making these choices I am seeking a wide range of matter and method. Given the central concern of Dick's recent work, I am favoring poems that raise Christian concerns. And I have sought poems of surpassing merit.

PS. Just noticed that only two of our poets are American. The notion that we are all in instantaneous contact, all over the English-speaking world, will astonish our distinguished guest!

I sent Tim an email congratulating him on having Richard Wilbur participate as a lariat and telling him what I would like to know. Tim asked me to post it here. This is the relevant part of the email:

Congrats to you on Wilbur lariating. I will be looking forward to reading what he has to say. I do hope someone asks him about revision: how he targets what he revises in a draft, how many drafts a poem will take, when he knows to leave something sit and vegetate, when it is time to attack and what to prune. People don't tend to talk about revisions, which I think is a shame since most writing is done in the rewriting.


And really, if any other lariart past present or future would like to respond on here I would be happy to hear what you say. I would bet I am not the only one.

Thanks!

A huge welcome to Richard Wilbur and thanks to Tim for persuading him to share a little of his time and knowledge with us. Erato is honored and I am delighted.

Carol

A beautiful gift, Tim.

Ask him what he thinks of Golias's Razor.

Bob

I agree with Nyctom. Revising is the most important part of writing a poem. I'm interested in what Richard Wilbur has to say about this - how he does it; how long it usually takes him to revise a poem; and when he knows he's done.

I'd also be interested in who has influenced his thinking over the years - any particular religious thinkers, their books.

Safe journey down to the Keys, Tim and Alan. And enjoy your visit with the master.

>Revising is the most important part of writing a poem.<

Wouldn't that depend on how good the poem was to start with?

My question for Richard Wilbur concerns how much of his talent and success he attributes to his unique gift and how much to refining that gift through study and dedication to the craft of writing and other factors over which a poet has control.

"Mr. Wilbur, when you published The Beautiful Changes in 1947, it must have been apparent to all that you had a great gift. Did you recognize your extraordinary talent from the beginning, and did you foresee its development over these last fifty-five years? How have you nurtured your gift, who has helped you, and what would you choose to do differently if you were starting out now?"

Carol Taylor

On the revision process - and Richard Wilbur in particular -there's a book most recently edited by Robert Wallace/Michelle Boisseau called Writing Poems that has an excellent section on revision and tightening, and even shows some of the various steps of Wilbur's "Love Calls Us to the Things of the World" as he revised it. Very interesting. Just figured I'd throw that out there, because that's one of the few poetry books I've ever found that actually showed that kind of thing.

Another book that shows evidence of revision by about 100 major English and American poets: Rodney Phillips, The Hand of the Poet: Poems and Papers in Manuscript (Rizzoli 1997). It includes extensive essays by Dana Gioia and two poems by Wilbur, "Zea" and "All These Birds."

Cheers,

This is an amazing treat (and feat), Tim! I will look forward to it, and hope Wilbur will talk about dramatic writing too. Whatever he wants to say!

Smooth sailing, bon voyage!

Terese

First, to Ralph and eaf: a hearty thank you for the suggested reading. The New York Public Library has the Phillips book, and I will try to pick that up later today. Your courteous responses are much appreciated.

Second, for Richard Wilbur via Tim and Alan:


In an interview with Peter Davison of The Atlantic Monthly (September 9, 1999), you stated:

It pleases me always to endanger whatever form I'm working in. I've written very few sonnets, but when I work in the sonnet, I try to threaten the form, expressively, in the way that my hero John Milton always did. Milton's sonnets freely overrun the tidy divisions of the sonnet form for expressive purposes, and therefore if his poems are "perfect," they're not perfect in the sense of being neat. They're perfect in the sense of treating the form in such a way as at all times to put it at the service of the meaning.

In what ways do you believe form is elastic and/or able to be manipulated? How far do think you can endanger or threaten a form before it becomes something else? Could you elaborate on the interplay between form and meaning?


In a related question, what do you think of the American dichotomy and hostility between practioners of formal and/or metrical verse and those who write free verse? How would you suggest these camps be brought together--or should they remain separate?


Thank you.

The one question that comes first to my mind is related to Tom's quote of Wilbur concerning "stretching the form." The poem A Wall in the Woods: Cummington contains the delightful stanzas that follow:

<dir>There is no tracing
The leaps and scurries with which
He braids his long castle, ra-
Cing, by gap, ledge, niche

And Cyclopean
Passages, to reappear
Sentrylike on a rampart
Thirty feet from here.</dir>

I am curious about the audacious line break on "ra- / cing." How does one make such a decision in such a poem as the poem in question? It's positively remarkable, quite effective.

Curtis.



[This message has been edited by Curtis Gale Weeks (edited January 28, 2003).]

Great question, Tom.

Also see S1 of Wilbur's "The Catch."

From the dress-box's plashing tis-
Sue paper she pulls out her prize,
Dangling to one side before my eyes
Like a wierd sort of fish

Alan and I once sent Dick a note on this matter:
Wish you
hadn't
hyphen-
ated
tissue.

To which Gwynn replied:
It
may
be
no
great
is-
sue,
but
Gwynn
likes
that
-
in tis-
sue.

I'm always struck by how amazingly visual is the word "tissue" in that poem, and have attributed it to the odd break in the word and that o so lovely capitalized S. Have always wondered how on earth he knew this would be so effective.

Eaf, "Writing Poems" is a terrific resource. Was the first handbook I ever bought, and remains one of my favorites.

Tim, we're so fortunate to have you, your poems, your stories, and your influence here, I sometimes have to pinch myself.

Congrats to those whose poems were selected for review by RPW. Wonderful choices, Tim, and I'm sure the selection was difficult, but I groan that no women 'sphere poets were selected. I don't speak for myself, but surely Susan McClean, Terese Coe, ALICIA...ah, well. I hope next time such an opportunity arises, the women here are represented.

I also hope Tom's (hi Tom !!!) questions re: revision are answered, and I would follow up by asking Mr Wilbur if he's published poems which simply spilled forth as gifts that required no reworking at all.

It would also be interesting to discover what poems of his Mr. Wilbur is most attached to, and which he's most contemptuous of.

I've never quite grasped the Plath inspired poem in "Mayflies," and any discussion of it would be wonderful.

I'm hoping Mr. Wilbur will discuss how his poetry (ie, the writing process) has confirmed and/or widened his spiritual path, and although I risk hearty sneers and jeers, whether he's read any Rumi and if he has,
what he makes of Rumi's general view re: the spiritual and the poetic.

Please thank him for the many hours of pleasure, wisdom, and company he's provided this humble reader.

Wendy, Alicia and Rhina and Deborah were all ruled out because Dick knows their work. Choosing between a Coe and a Slater or a McLean translation was very difficult. Believe it or not, though I'd noticed the nationalities of the lucky ones, it didn't even occur to me that they were all male. Duh! In defense of this board let me point out the three winners of the Great Sonnet Bake-Off were all women, and there were shrieks of outrage from certain of the gentlemen. Finally, what poem in Mayflies is Plath-inspired?

Sorry, Tim, I misspoke, it's Cottage Street and I'm sure it's in the New and Collected. Is there documentation out there of how Wilbur actually felt (feels) about Plath's work ? I see the poem as one of profound compassion, frustration, and one which affirms the depths and the limits of one's own faith. One simply cannot gift Hope to one whose religion is Despair. On the issue of Plath's poetry, though, (and its ability to endure), there does seem to be some ambiguity.

On the other issue, because of the aformentioned shrieks, I'll forgive you neglecting your femme side, this time.
http://www.ablemuse.com/erato/ubbhtml/rolleyes.gif

wendy



[This message has been edited by wendy v (edited January 28, 2003).]

I thought it was Cottage Street. Alan has challenged Dick's public statements on this and discusses his exchange with him in Islands of Order, his big Wilbur essay at www.crucat.com. We are both of the view that though the poem is deeply compassionate, it is also deeply critical.

The first Wilbur poem I read was “The Gambler” (New Yorker about 1982-83). I was captivated to find such urbane and fluent language in a metrical piece. I have been a fan ever since. Congratulations and thanks, Tim, for bringing this aging master to us.

------------------
Bill

Tim, WOW! This is an amazing gift! Thank you so much! I would ask this--

Mr. Wilbur, I was recently caught up in a discussion about what makes a poem a poem. One person in the group believed that anything metrical/verse was a poem ( with a qualifier, that the intent to write a poem was there) Another person argued that it is a compression of language the craft of the line, etc. They gave an example of nonsense verse they had written, they maintained that although it was regular in meter, it could not be called a poem. Both cited the numerous examples of both techniques used to produce the plethora of bad poetry often seen on the internet and elsewhere.
Both sides shared the view that a poem and poetry are the same.
I thought both views are right in the sense that either way one can produce a poem, but I believe most poems are not poetry. As if a poem is the cause of the writer and poetry is the effect upon the individual reader. What is your definition of a poem and/or poetry?

Respectfully,
Donna

Thought I had absorbed that essay of Alan's,
but obviously I had forgotten that he had something
to say about "Cottage Street," so I'll go back
and re-read it as soon as I'm done here.

At a birthday fest/reading
at Bard College two years ago, a fine critic (whose
name, I blush to admit, I have forgotten) strongly defended
Wilbur's choice of "unjust" as he sat there and beamed
on genially at the proceedings. I got the strong
impression that he approved of what she (the critic)
was saying. I.e., the poem was deeply sympathetic
and yet ultimately rueful and tender about having to
call the poems unjust. This is a view I am sure is
strongly influenced by Wilbur's religious faith.

Bill: Are you thinking of the "Gambler" that came out
a couple of years ago in the "New Yorker" (I could swear
I read it in 1998 or 1999) and was included in "Mayflies"?
Of course, it could just be a senior moment for yours truly.

To fulfill a request, a bit of doggerel re what used to be called, no doubt rather superficially, a "gender gap":

Love-All

Though it may seem quite appalling
When the numbers come up short,
It is not a case of stalling
But conditioning the court.

For it isn't "us" and "them,"
And it isn't black and white;
It is turn and turn again
Till we all can get it right.

If the waters form an eddy
Round the words of OUR Tim,
He's big-hearted as he's ready—
Honors her and honors him.

Terese



[This message has been edited by Terese Coe (edited January 30, 2003).]

Almost forgot—my questions for Richard Wilbur:

During the early productions of your timeless, superb Moliere and Racine translations, were you present during the rehearsals? If so, did you often revise lines as a result of hearing actors speak them? What was it like to experience those rehearsals and/or the opening nights?

Terese

Len: I'm pretty certain within that date-range because of other things that were going on in my life at the same time. Perhaps the '98-'99 was a reprint. It was included in "Mayflies", which purported to begin at a later date than I recall (1984 I think). However, I too am given to the occasional senior moment - quite prematurely I hasten to add.

------------------
Bill

Thanks, Bill !

I wanted to include two other very ambitious poems, still under construction, for our Guest Lariat's delectation. The first is Patricia's "Etiquette Lesson," which is now finished to her satisfaction (and mine.) Posted nearby. Hope to have the other this weekend.

Mr. Wilbur, welcome to Eratosphere, and thank you for honoring us with this visit!

I have a question about translation, an art I've been trying very hard to learn. When you translate, how do you rank such conflicting obligations as fidelity to the sound but also the sense of the original; the creation of the best poem in English you can make--which will be, willy-nilly, your own--while conveying the work of another poet; the need to use English to reproduce the music of a poem in another language, whose poetic practices may be unfamiliar to English readers; the urge to "sell" the original to new readers, and yet resist the temptation to take excessive liberties and "improve upon" that original? What do you consider your most binding obligation as a translator? Are there liberties you will never take?

Mr. Wilbur, my question: Which methods do you use to choose rhymes, and which do you prefer? Also, how often do you revise your rhymes as you work?