May 13, 2018
The Future of Poetry (and why It Is Bleak)
Matthew Arnold has made a famous, as-of-yet-unfulfilled prediction regarding the future of poetry.
The future of poetry is immense, because in poetry, where it is worthy of its high destinies, our race, as time goes on, will find an ever surer and surer stay … Our religion has materialised itself in the fact, in the supposed fact; it has attached its emotion to the fact, and now the fact is failing it. But for poetry the idea is everything; the rest is a world of illusion, of divine illusion. Poetry attaches its emotion to the idea; the idea is the fact.
What Matthew Arnold failed to take into consideration was the paralyzing mediocrity that has overwhelmed this world. Not only has poetry not eclipsed religion (perhaps the term ‘dogma’ is easier to grasp in this context), but it has indeed become virtually extinct itself. The future of poetry looks grim, because the future of humanity looks grim itself.
The Future of Poetry Looks Bleak in a Prosaic World
Prose used to be the “lesser” form of literature, with poetry considered what any serious writer should produce. Things changed over the years, and prose has justifiably created its own space. I find good prose highly imaginative, engaging, and fully worthy of a serious author’s time. But things have changed there, too.
Gone are the times when by “prose” we meant a full-length novel with realistic, deep characters, and a sense-making plot. Now we see chaotic, nonsensical plots, and little skill in storytelling. Even worse, we see how what rises to the top is often not the best but actually the loudest. But brace yourself! Because there is even worse*, namely snubbing writing altogether.
* I’m being my natural self, that is, pessimistic. For a more optimistic take on the future of poetry, feel free to read Alicia Butcher Ehrhardt’s response
As I mentioned in my article about the deterioration of writing skills, we’ve reached the point where people don’t even bother with texts anymore. You take a photo, upload it on Instagram, then write (or, rather, copy/paste) 40 hashtags, and that’s it.
Even Existing Poetry Has Become Lazy and Uninspiring
Poetry used to be an ambitious affair. Who can forget the timeless Iliad or Odyssey, or the magnificent poetry of the Romantic poets, who weren’t afraid to take on larger-than-life projects. When Lord Byron wrote Don Juan, even the dedication is metered and rhyming.
Bob Southey! You’re a poet, poet laureate,
And representative of all the race.
Although ’tis true that you turned out a Tory at
Last, yours has lately been a common case.
And now my epic renegade, what are ye at
With all the lakers, in and out of place?
A nest of tuneful persons, to my eye
Like four and twenty blackbirds in a pye
[…]
Today’s poetry is rarely metered and even more rarely rhyming – that makes them easier to translate, I suppose. Here’s a random example, a poem titled “Beyoncé is Sorry for What She Won’t Feel”, by Morgan Parker.
The Capital’s so icy, I see my
perfect breath. It looks like a body
on its knees. Most days I strut
my figure on lock. A Nation
of Weaves assembles at my
Jimmy Choos, gazes into green light
and falls asleep. First Lady of desire,
I pant for our future. Like America
and wine, I am all legs. A sheepskin
bleached and dyed, left in the sun.
[…]
What Real Poetry Looks Like
To me this comes off as sloppy, lazy, and entirely absent of ambition. I can’t help but feel dejected comparing this with the excellence and brilliance of older poets. Here’s another example by Lord Byron, “The Destruction of Sennacherib”.
The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen:
Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.
[…]
Not even close. Notice how the anapestic meter (every third syllable emphasized) conveys the impression of a galloping horse. This is poetry.
6 Comments
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That Beyoncé-inspired poem is simply prose broken at points. It has nothing that characterized poetry over the millennia. Because, let us not forget, poetry as a visual division of text in verses is a late 19th century invention: think Un Coup de Dés Jamais N’Abolira le Hasard by Stéphane Mallarmé. Before that and for so long it reaches back to Homer, poetry was defined by certain assemic constraints on language: be it the phonetic coincidence of rhymes or the phonetic variation of intensity via rhythm and meter. Still by the early 19th century, with the romantic poets, poetry was a primarily sound practice, that is, meant to be read out loud (especially at social situations, be it poetry soirées, public events, academic meetings, etc.). Poetry, it seems to me, is losing its power because of the solitude to which contemporary poets have adhered, and the leaving behind of aural factors whilst privileging visual aspects.
On another note, the assemic constraints producing meaning – mostly word choice and placement in order to achieve correct meter, rhythm and rhyme – seems to me like a political theory in disguise. And by politics I mean ethics, for since Spinoza (and made explicit by Deleuze or his contemporaries, say, Badiou) they form one unity. The meaningless, the expelled from mainstream reason, not only produces meaning, but it also sustains it. Sense rests upon the abyss of nonsense. Or, as (I think) Bataille said: what we do not know will forever remain much more infinite than all we can ever come to know.
You make many excellent points here. In terms of understanding the current bland reality, the observation on solitude and the aural/visual gap is an intriguing one. It also made me wonder where modern music fits in all this — as you have mentioned elsewhere (upcoming post; “as you will have mentioned”?!) poetry and music began as two facets of the same expression; not even facets, rather, but tautologies.
The thing is, in ancient Greece (and elsewhere) there was no divide between lesser music/poetry and highbrow music/poetry. To put it simply, there was no pop music, because music was pop(ular).
As for the last few sentences, and how meaninglessness creates meaning by virtue of its social expulsion, I think that’s also related to the dynamics of popular expression — including music. As I’ve said before, you can’t be original nowadays if you are in the people-pleasing business, because popularity is precisely predicated on unoriginality.
I do agree that there are an abundance of lazy free verse poems out there. However, a lot of this post fails to understand there is still a sonic component to poetry written without meter or rhyme. Rhyme and meter are not really even the pinnacle of sonic devices in poetry. I would even go so as far as to say rhyme often detracts from and disrupts the sonic value of a poem. I’ve seen poems produced around rhyme schemes and even classic poems written with rhyme schemes which merely produce an abhorrent clanging. Even well-written rhymes make obvious and crude stopping points in the ear which are a distraction and a boring and easy conclusion to a line. Also, meter is a deadness, a grave made in predictability which inhibits the true urge of the poem.
Thanks for your input 🙂
I just happened to stumble across blog. A friend showed me a video by the band jinjer.. i love poetry , literature and music..so real never have i thought of how poetry and music , I have no idea why, I was a avid reader all my life until I became a nurse working 12 hour shifts. Those days have changed for me as well, but you reminded of the love I always had for the meaning, the depth, of a song , a poem or really good book. I think i will pick up Ovid and reread the metamorphosis. Thank you, sincerely ..just a small town southern girl from Georgia
Many thanks for your inspiring comment 🙂