Friday, April 25, 2003

Nick LoLordo, who teaches at UNLV, had several thoughtful comments about my take on Emily EakinsNew York Times article concerning Critical Inquiry’s conference on Critical Inquiry in the 21st Century. Other than correcting the spelling of Eakins’ name, I’ve made no edits to the body of the letter – the ellipses are all Nick’s.

 

Dear Ron:

 

“Long time listener, first time caller,” as they say on the radio. Some thoughts on today’s blog. (If you're swamped by angry messages from profs disagreeing with you, does that affect your argument? – I'm not one of those hypothetical angry profs, but I do think you're setting up a straw man.)

 

Why trust the Times? [I know you apologize for your source, but you then go on to assume its accuracy in the polemic that follows...] Would you trust their account of contemporary non-quietudinous poetry? When Emily Eakins tells you that they didn’t talk about literature at that meeting, this, I think, is code: she’s scolding them for “not teaching Shakespeare,” for not sticking to their job description, a rhetorical strategy that is part of a tradition of conservative criticism in the media going back to the culture wars, Roger Kimball, etc...

 

On your account the only way for theorists to encounter the contemporary world is through contemporary writing, because that’s the field that defines their professional existence.

 

I agree entirely with you that the academic “neglect” of contemporary poetry is real, is a problem, has consequences within the institution in that certain types of intellectual work get ignored or misunderstood – I noticed it as soon as I got to grad school, and I got to grad school not knowing much at all about contemporary poetry and yet knowing a lot more than most of my peers.

 

[An aside here: your move with the Frost book seems unfair; the alternative, say, Mary Margaret Sloan’s recent piece in Talisman that under various categories lists groups of poets in huge slabs of names (borrowing your strategy from In the American Tree), seems also inadequate: there are always more names .... why would Frost choose to cite every writer you named? If she cited half of them would that be enough? Respect for those writers one admires and the desire to be inclusive, if reified in the form of huge lists, are not entirely unproblematic...]

 

But I don’t completely understand your remarks about academics moving away from literature to talk about what they’re not qualified to talk about. English departments have been focal points of interdisciplinary work for quite a while now; the causes and effects of that are complicated. In what sense is Jameson not qualified to talk about politics? Because he read Perelman badly?

 

As for your larger argument against “theorists”, surely any such argument applies to all academics. Academics by definition can’t exist widely through the society – they exist in the academy. The diversity you ascribe to poets is that they are employed by a wide range of institutions while all identifying as poets. [Of course, some poets who work in the academy aren’t comfortable identifying as academics....]

 

Any social efficacy of poets re. the war surely had/has to do not with their variety of job descriptions but with the shared identity of “poet” and an ad hoc organizational strategy; poetry becomes a site of symbolic resistance to the war because of a history of spontaneous organizing linked to the fact that poets aren’t professionals – both the praise and the dismissals of Hamill’s project assumed the “amateurism” or “purity” of poetry. Poetry is mediated, just like every other kind of writing.

 

Finally, I don’t understand your conclusion. Whether or not it admits great living poets, the discipline doesn’t achieve social impact without being mediated through the university. If you mean only to suggest that the discourse of academic literary criticism doesn't “matter” in the sense that some other activities do matter (achieving visible effects within whatever timeframe we call “the political”) I’d probably agree with you; so, with varying degrees of sorrow and glee, would many academics.

 

But that doesn't mean that nothing a professor of lit, or anything else, can do “matters.” I’d even argue that there are many things I can do within the university that ultimately have an effect in what (some) academics call the “real world.” If I go to the humanities librarian and convince her to order 100 contemporary poetry titles from the SPD catalog for the university library – many of which will be the only copy of that book in Las Vegas – will those books necessarily become “schoolwork”? Separated from the avant-garde communities in which they were produced, will they fail to bear the values of poetic experimentation that nourished them, and become mere commodities, losing their street cred? (Too late – I did it!) A sociological argument (Bourdieu; Steve Evans) greatly oversimplified might look something like this: the literary field is a system of shifting differences where the avant-garde is defined against both the mainstream and the academy – but there’s no necessity that this particular set of oppositions will remain adequate....

 

Which leads me to a final question. What would happen if academic critics of poetry generally demonstrated, to your satisfaction, an adequate grasp of the contemporary moment?

 

I appreciate your blog, and learn from it constantly; In The American Tree was just about the first avant-garde work I ever saw. Thanks for writing...

 

– Nick