Phew
Bill has saved me the task of trying to say why one might consider this poem perfect by saying it in a way I couldn't even begin to.
If I had to clutch at "why"s they would include indeed the poem's sense of faultlessness, and even effortlessness. But this wasn't an exercise in saying "I, PQ, have the secret formula by which I judge this poem to be perfect" (there would be paydirt in that!) nor even an exaggerated way of saying (to borrow Rose's expression) "this one floats my boat" (although it does, bigtime).
Nor is it hero worship. Because, while I admire Merwin's choice to live (rather than just write) poetry, a great deal of his poetry irritates the living **** out of me, and again that isn't because it is impenetrable, but because of the language in many cases.
The "perfect" thing is a sort of gut reaction, the same one I get with say Beethoven or Sibelius. Given a hundred years I wouldn't have come up with even the main opening theme of say the Pastoral Symphony, but when I listen to it I can't help thinking every time "yes, of course that's what you'd do - of course it has to go that way".
So in a muddly way I suppose I'm saying that it's a sort of "rightness" which isn't diminished by "obviousness". It is only obvious once you know. So I suppose the "I wouldn't change a word" criterion is also a bit of it.
There is a poem by Carol Ann Duffy (Valentine) that makes me want to razor out the word "wobbling" and replace it with almost anything else, it is just SO wrong.
In the Merwin poem there is no line or phrase I can point to in isolation and say "how brilliant" or "see what he did there". It is a ribbon of words that leads inexorably (and attractively) to an exactly, but gently stated conclusion.
Inter-alia I should say I agree re: James Wright (who has a similar poetical pedigree).
It may be significant (or not) that on my shortlist of "perfect" poems no two are by the same poet. The ones that come to mind immediately are:
Lawrence Durrell's "Water Music"
Wrap your sulky beauty up,
From sea-fever, from winterfall
Out of the swing of the
Swing of the sea.
Keep safe from noonfall,
Starlight and smokefall where
Waves roll, waves toll but feel
None of our roving fever.
From dayfever and nightsadness
Keep, bless, hold: from cold
Wrap your sulky beauty into sleep
Out of the swing of the
Swing of sea.
(most of Durrell's stuff seems affected to me and too littered with classical references)
Also one by Ted Hughes "October Dawn" (which I can't lay my hands on electronically).
Perhaps I have a particular penchant for "purity" of language, or language without jagged edges, I don't know. But I go back to this one of Merwin's more than any other.
I'd be interested to know whether anyone else has such a poem lodged in their brain.
No biggy
Philip
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