Thanks, Kevin! I had just got to the end where I was going to say that many times even the poet doesn't know all of what's in a poem, when I got to your post.
The whole point about writing poetry - well, okay, part of it - is that you're channeling your unconscious. I think, really, time and again in these kinds of discussions, the external terms of reference just seem at odds with the creative process. You an't notice every effect you use in a really good poem. Some of it just has to happen.
More generally, I think a poem, a good, successful one, is like a piece of fabric. It's a made thing. It has its own shape, it has become an object in its own right. You can fold it, bend it, see through it if you hold it up to the light, but it is still what it is. What this means for interpretation of poems is that you can see what the author intended - it's 3' square, it has red and purple flowers - but you can still identify other things with it - your umbrella when you were a kid had similar flowers, or you know this kind of pattern was popular in the sixties, or you're familiar with the designer's other products, or whatever. One person will be sensitive to the three shades of green in the foliage, another will notice the contrast with the brown background. One will think red & purple clash, another won't, a third will say it clashes ironically. One will love its translucence, another will think it looks cheap. Of course fabric doesn't usually have subtext, but you get my drift. I think a well-made poem will still be in its own shape once a reader's done with it. Part of education is learning what to do with it & what will shrink it.
KEB
|