There seems to be a subtext running through this thread concerning the merits of formatted poetry versus free verse (it may well be that this subtext colors all current debate on poetry). I’d like to see if I can judiciously season that discussion without making the discussion too hot.
Personally, I feel that poetry has mirrored painting through the nineteenth and twentieth centuries; a tearing down of prerequisites for what is considered art to provide more freedom of artistic expression. This, in my humble opinion, has generally been a good thing and has added dramatically to the range of artistic expression.
The experiments in tearing down established views of artistic paintings has resulted in abstraction, geometry, throwing the paint at the canvas, etc, etc, and even the minimalist extreme of the blank canvas. I argue that a similar path has been followed with verse.
Here is my minimalist poem:
words
(I would have titled it “Untitled,” but that would have been unnecessarily restating the obvious.)
But, seriously (or at least semi-seriously), if everything is art, then nothing is art. For art to survive it must eventually be redefined. I think we may be at that point in the history of verse, the point where poets are struggling to redefine what it is that causes their art to be art.
While I’m not a Neo-Formalist, I can sometimes easily pretend I am after reading a particularly galling issue of a popular and respected journal. It can seem like everybody is standing back and slinging paint at the canvas. While this can produce exquisite results, does it mean everybody has to use that style to the exclusion of all others? In some ways, Mondrian’s work is art because he did it first. It doesn’t mean I can paint squares on canvas and claim to be his equal. The same thing applies to Sandburg and Plath (oh, how the inept wordsmith loves to use her as a model) and dozens of others. But, merely using a brush and oils to attempt portraits of photographic quality doesn’t make one any better of an artist. I absolutely agree that a shortage of talent is somewhat easier to cover when using free verse than metrical verse, just as modern art styles can sometimes hide an inability to draw. A poorly constructed formatted poem is usually much more hideous than it's free verse counterpart. But the ability to draw, in and of itself does not make an artist. If the truth were known, there are probably many painters who produce compelling results that can’t draw worth beans. In my humble opinion, paintings should be pleasing to the eye and poetry pleasing to the ear. Both should touch a spot in us that makes the artistic spirit soar, or at least look upward.
How does this relate to the discussion of the merits of the villanelle? The villanelle is merely a technique, like using a knife with oils or airbrushing with acrylics. I think the popularity of the villanelle (sestina, triolet, etc.) is twofold. They are challenging to construct well, and for many challenge equals fun. The other is that a lot of “real poets” have used these forms and it’s sort of a bandwagon thing for those who want to be considered real poets, like the sonnet in the nineteenth century and possibly contributing to it’s resurgence of the sonnet as a popular form today. (Can you really be considered a poet if you’ve never written a sonnet?) The problem is that this particular technique (the villanelle) is very limited in its poetic scope, and if one is going to attempt it, they had better know how to draw well. But, just because one can draw with perfection, doesn’t mean the results will be worthwhile if they are outside the scope of the medium. It can be like airbrushing the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel on a t-shirt. An accomplishment, but not art. So, I guess essentially, I am in agreement with you, Quincy.
Most humbly,
David
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