It’s big. It’s yellow. It’s
beautiful. It, in this instance, is the Tom Raworth Collected
Poems, just out from Carcanet,
making an early bid for the “best book of 2003” sweepstakes. The volume has 557
pages of text, plus some 18 of “front matter” & another 20 given to various
indices. At one pound, 13 ounces, it’s a brick. A brick with
a cover illustration by the late Franco Beltrametti.*
Not long ago, I had a
discussion with poet of my own generation whose work I’ve praised on this blog,
whom I informed that I longed to see a collected works of his poetry. He
argued, with surprising vigor, against the idea. His primary points were two –
first, that as a young poet he had not always known when works should be held
back & not published. There was a lot of writing in his first books that,
in his opinion, were “not ready for prime time.”** But even more problematic
from his perspective was the way in which “collecteds”
eliminate shape.
Shape is a question, I
agree, with any such gathering, as is detail. Perhaps the most notorious
example of how placement can alter & undermine the implications of a text
in such terms are the poems from William Carlos Williams’ Spring & All as they were included in his own Collected Earlier Poems. Thus did “red
wheel / barrow” become something it never could have been in context, coming as
it originally did 78 pages into a dense argument, leading directly to a discussion
of knowledge, categories, democracy, education & confusion.
There also is a distinction between collected & complete with which all
such volumes must contend. Thus there are rumors afoot at the Collected Books of Jack Spicer will some
day be supplanted by a much fuller edition. & we have just seen how
radically different the new Collected
Works of Lorine Niedecker are from her two earlier “collected” poems, T&G and My Life by Water.
There also are discrepancies
in this vast edition of Raworth’s – moments that will stop a fond, familiar
reader short. For example, the stanza-per-page structure of “Defective
Definitions” in Clean & Well
Lit runs 4-2-1 , though all are quatrains. In the Collected,
the stanzas are run together. Raworth himself credits the Clean & Well Lit formatting to
“happenstance,” insisting that ultimately there is no such thing as “correct.”
Thus Ace is a long thin poem*** in
a single column in the Edge Press edition I currently own, yet appeared in
double columns in the editions of Tottering State Tottering State Col
Which
might well be the point. As
impressively well-written as these works are – & I’m one who could be
persuaded that we live the Age of Raworth – Raworth’s poetry itself argues for
a definition of verse as “what a poet does,” a condition that offers quite a
bit of latitude. But I don’t think it’s latitude that Raworth is after, nor
does his stance have anything to do with an approach to the poem as “art
language” the way that David Antin’s performances do. Rather, the books like
the poems themselves, are arguments for a perpetual
restlessness that amounts to constant attentiveness to the conditions of the
real. It’s in this sense that the Collected
Poems represents an achievement of major proportion. These works are not
“the alps,” as Basil Bunting once characterized Pound’s Cantos, not because the accumulation is not massive, but because
there is not a sedentary moment in this book.
* Far more
beautiful & colorful than the washed-out thumbnail of it on the Carcanet
web site suggests.
** I don’t
agree.
*** I originally
typed “long thing poem” – it’s that too.
