Defining "Light"
 

An interesting discussion has arisen in the Light Verse Bakeoff up at Distinguished Guest. One of the poems is, in my view, and the view of a few others, decidedly NOT "light verse", though others contend that it is. I love the poem -- it's full of dark cynicism and it casts a rather pointed light on human nature. It's done in a slightly bemused, slightly accusatory tone, but has a fairly jaunty meter with a few amusing rhyme pairings. But overall, I think the poem isn't light verse, due to the depth of subject matter.

Ultimately, I'm now a bit perplexed as to what one would consider "light verse". I've always thought of light verse as humorous and without a lot of depth -- geared more towards snickers and guffaws than deep contemplation; slapstick comedy versus satiric drama. I don't see how heavy / deep subjects with cynical tones can be considered "light", regardless of the meter or rhyme scheme.

I should point out that this is by no means a criticism of John selecting this particular poem for the Bakeoff...I'm just curious as to where folks draw the line between "light verse" and other forms of poetry.

The best place to view the possibilities is in the Auden-edited version of The Oxford Book of Light Verse, which includes such surprises as "Danny Deever" and "Upon Appleton House." Auden suggests there are 3 kinds of light verse--poetry written for performance, poetry meant to be read, but having for its subject everyday social life, and nonsense poetry with general appeal. I am glad he included that last qualifier. I read a lot of nonsense poetry without general appeal.

RHE

Well of course Auden was trailing his coat. See Kingsley Amis in his ppreface to his own Oxford Book of Light Verse. But if Auden is (perhaps) too inclusive, KA is too exclusive. Anyway, certain bastards over here say I am a Light Verse poet. This used to piss me off but now I go with the flow. If I am a Light verse Poet then anything I write must be light verse. Which means Auden rules.

Well, to no one's surprise, Auden is paramount to me (as if my avatar wasn't enough of a clue...), but there's not a lot of his work I'd consider "light", really. His tone is often very light, but the gravity of much of his subject matter is anything but. So I guess for me, I think of "light" in terms of subject matter, while others think of light in terms of tone and the jauntiness of meter etc.

Is Betjeman consistently light? "Slough" certainly has a jaunty rhythm, some amusing images and a remarkably tongue-in-cheek tone...but doesn't the gravity of the subject matter prevent it from being considered "light verse" as opposed to a standard, meaningful poem?

How about Robinson? Some of his character sketches make you want to laugh aloud, and yet at the same time, they delve into deep-rooted flaws in man himself. Hardly "light" stuff, is it?

I guess we all have our visions of what "light" means. But I don't blame you, John, for having taken offense at being considered a "light verse" poet. In my view, that's a dismissive categorization of any poet, basically indicating that you're a one trick pony...and you're certainly not.

Or are we pretty much setting our definition of light here in order to justify the banal tripe that so often gets published under that banner? Where's Lord Rochester when you need him?

Sheesh.

I'm with Quincy on this one. If someone asked me to make a list of Light Verse poets, it would start with Herrick, Ovid, Catullus, Chaucer and Martial.

Sheesh is right! ;)

Thanks,

Bill

I don't think "light verse" can be defined in a way that everyone will agree with, because each person has a different level at which a poem becomes too heavy to be considered "light." I always tend to see the darkness behind so-called light verse: Dorothy Parker's little ditty about suicide methods, "Résumé," for instance, which I would say is definitely light in tone even though she really did try to commit suicide repeatedly. Satire is one of the hardest cases in point, because it can be funny or can be as subtle as a bludgeoning. The same poem will evoke different responses from different people, since we all have a different sense of humor from one another. Light verse often has a very serious point, so I would lean toward accepting Wendy Cope's suggestion of looking at the funny/unfunny spectrum to try to define light verse.

Susan

Are light verse poets born or made? My favorite description of the process is this,
"Admitted to the bar in 1865, [Calverley] fell heavily on his head while skating and was forced to retire and devote the rest of his life to polite letters."

RHE

Everyone's so eager to classify things; I guess it makes everyone feel safe.

PS. If we have to classify, light verse is better than non-light verse. Comment on the human condition all you'd like, but if you can make it funny and entertaining you've one-upped the rest of them.

Light verse is what fools mistake for shallow verse. It engages us and we don't notice that it's every bit as profound as solemn verse.

I was t/walking on the beach with my nearest and dearest who spent his life in publishing--journalism and non-fiction. He said that if he were still in the business and had enough capital to risk on poetry he wouldn't publish these slim volumes but great big fat volumes with a variety (not too many) of poets in them and there'd be a leavening of what we call "light" poems and most of them would rhyme. He was thinking commercially not critically. He said poets had brought about their own publishing downfall. He said people wanted their money's worth and they wanted something they could pick up again and again and search through and I remembered how he came to my notice many centuries ago because of his (A) record collection but above all because of his (B) collection of humorous poetry anthologies. All of the Penguin poetry publications. I read Louis MacNeice's "Bagpipe Music" http://www.artofeurope.com/macneice/mac6.htm in one of those.
He didn't and doesn't read poetry except as an occasional divergence. I think there are a lot of literate thoughtful people who would read a lot more poetry if it were as intelligent and entertaining as Louis MacNeice.
But he can also quote more "non-light" poetry than I can. By dividing poetry into proper and silly we have bored the pants off the public. That's why no main stream publisher will risk publishing poetry.

Byron was as political as Christopher Hitchens and as funny as Stephen Fry. And yet he could rival Berlioz in expressive and romantic phrasing.
Was Shakespeare "light" or "serious"?
Let in the light!

John Whitworth has a few things to say about Light Verse in The Chimaera #5. And Ann Drysdale's 'The Case for Light Verse' sheds some... erm... light on the subject.

Gavin Ewart said the distinction was between the Light Brigade and the Heavy Brigade.

Yep. And her "And if it rains, a closed car at four" {you'll need to scroll a little} is one of the most delightful things I've read in quite a while! ;)

Thanks,

Bill

All this light vs. heavy, funny vs. unfunny stuff doesn't strike me as all that useful. Certainly, I'm in general on the "heavy" side of things, but really, particularly if one breaks the twenty-line barrier, it's quite likely that one will have elements of all of the above. The poetry I tend to like, in any event, is the stuff that doesn't easily fit into a particular category. It looks like light verse, but it's depressing as hell in theme, say, or it is generally serious with some humorous elements. The single funniest line in a poem by someone I actually know comes from a decidedly non-light poem by Nemo--"Princess Diana, who was so sweet retarded people used to lick her face." Or something like that. Strict adherence to template=complete and utter boredom, really.

And as far as what's funny and what isn't... some people like Bob Saget and some prefer Bill Hicks.

Quincy, I suspect, though am not sure, that you're being overly hard on Bob Saget. I've heard that his stand-up (as opposed to Full House and the Home Video show) is actually pretty funny. Of course, we may all still prefer Bill Hicks.

I'm surprised at the attempt to define "light" vs. "heavy/dark" verse based primarily on subject matter. To me it seems more a matter of style, or handling--whistling past the graveyard is different from singing a dirge. But definitions of this sort are pretty much impossible to get right anyway.

Surely we can all agree that it's lovely when poems make us laugh, and when they make us cry--maybe it's best when we do both at once?

Chris

Useful? Probably not. Then again, US Open threads and threads about Obama probably aren't "useful" either. I'm not writing a manifesto here -- I'm just curious as to how people view certain types of verse. I'm all for ridding the world of ANY labels, but the reality is that when I'm thinking of sending material to, say, Light Quarterly or entering a light verse contest, it helps to have an idea of what tenor of poetry makes the grade in that context. It's at least discussion worthy, in my view.

Nothing kills a joke like explaining it, and I suppose the same is true of light verse...but my favorite light verse poems, like my favorite jokes, have an element of surprise.

I love solemn pieces that end on irreverent punchlines, or bouncy little nonsense poems that suddenly make chilling sense at the end.

Julie, do you believe that light poems must have or be jokes?

No, but I do want to be surprised. I suppose "Pippa's Song" would be generally considered light verse, it being cheerful (though not humorous)...or perhaps not, since the mood is more ecstatic than cheerful...

[...Oh, never mind, that little snippet is part of a much longer and darker dramatic work, so it's not quite the same thing...really bad example...I'll return to this tomorrow, I hope...]

Does this look like light verse? Three possible answers:


1.Well, it's funny-looking.
2.Sure does. Your printer must be low on ink.
3.Ask Quincy. I have no idea what the **** he means.

Quincy doesn't have to mean:
He's awfully profound—
Not so much in semantics
As in polished plonking sound.

____

(What is plonking?)

Plonking must be what a plonker does. A plonker is a dimwit, ninny, dunderhead, slow and stupid person. Our Prime Minister is a plonker.
Some people connect it with the penis, but then some people will connect anything with the penis given half a chance. Others suggest it has something to do with cheap wine (plonk from plink-plonk vin blanc) but I cannot see how those who consume cheap wine can be characterised as dunderheads - unless they consume a good deal of it. The great Keith Waterhouse who died at the weekend consumed enormous quantities of wine, cheap sometimes and expensive sometimes. Nobody would characterise him as a plonker.

I though plonking was the sound made by something (not too heavy, but not too light either) when striking water.

Nemo

No, that's plopping. Plonking's when it lands on something solid. When you dive into a pool you expect to plop. If you plonk you're in big trouble.

But - revenons a nos moutons - I have divined by observation that the term "light" is usually applied, often with overtones of relief, to verse that is readily comprehensible. Verse that is written to be read rather than studied. Verse that engenders pleasure - though not necessarily laughter.

Ah but Ann,
There's Jabberwocky. The easiest poem to commit to memory that I know.

Good gracious - yes! I see what you mean - I think. But on reflection I realise that I've thought from the very first time I read it that I understood it perfectly. Hurrah! - another hat in the ring! I shall think harder...

Do you know, I always thought I did too. I think we do.

On the balloting thread for the Light Verse Bake-Off, Maryann said:

Should we be surprised that variations in personal taste are more pronounced among readers of light verse than heavy? The same absurdities that strike one person as hilarious may strike another person as pointless, or even downright depressing.

What I found interesting was how this bake-off has also underscored the differences in how much a given reader is willing to overlook in terms of repetition, development of an idea over the course of a poem, and technical points like metrical substitution and off-rhyme, when the piece is lighter. Some of us give a lighter poem more of a pass in these departments, while others demand MORE perfection of a lighter poem, and are far less forgiving of missteps.

What did I mean, Max? I meant that it is possible, even frequently desirable, to take techniques associated with one type of verse and use them to write a different sort of verse. That is to say, one might whistle while walking past a graveyard, but it's one thing if one is whisting "Oh, What a Beautiful Morning" and another if one is whistling an oddly upbeat-sounding rendition of "Sabbath, Bloody Sabbath."

I don't think the point is especially hard to grasp.

Sorry if I offended you, Quincy. We all say inadvertent things at times; I certainly do. I was just having fun with your inadvertent statement, which if taken literally would have been well worth questioning. Saying your favorite poetry "looks like light verse" implied that light verse looks different than other verse, but I'm certain (even more so after you avoided the issue in your subsequent post) that that isn't what you meant.

Cheers.

This discussion is of interest to me because so much of my own output is called "light verse" whether I thought of it that way when I wrote it or not. I've always thought it was just because my poems were
A) Formal
B) Accessible
C) Truthful (on the theory that "mankind cannot stand very much
reality" without laughing).

Anyway, after years of writing "darkly cynical" stuff and being laughed at for my pains, I finally accepted that I was a "light verse" poet &
have been one ever since.

(PS: I'm not in the bakeoff, so it's not me you're discussing).

Light and dark are woven fine,
a clothing for the soul divine;
light and heavy have similar powers -
hellish moments push up flowers.

I'm afraid I can't be much help on this one as I've never quite figured out the difference myself. Many poets are helpful in self-labeling certain of their poems as light verse. I've always liked the original sense of the term "vers de societe" and how Larkin plays on the literal meaning of the title in his own brilliant poem. A lot of light verse is topical and thus has a short shelf-life: "not for all time but for an age."

If the world were a fair place, I'd like to see some of the poets who disparage the term do some themselves. I don't think I've ever seen an attack on the sonnet by a poet who could write a passable one.

Oh, mercy, don't say that on Erato--someone is bound to take it as a challenge!