Here are
some of my notes & reflections on the Poetry & Empire
retreat. While John
Koethe at one point commented that I seemed to be taking verbatim notes, I
absolutely wasn’t, but was noting things down very personally, for the most
part according to what had the most resonance for my own practice as a poet. So
I need to start with a disclaimer – one could easily come up with a
Rashomon-like effect, given how many different perspectives were in the room at
once. I don’t want to pretend to have been the recording secretary. I’m
conscious, for example, that I captured very little of what the quietest
participants in the room said, such as Mei-mei Berssenbrugge’s discussion of
pesticide, and that the quietest people over 48 hours also happened to be Asian
participants, including Mei-mei, Jo Park and Bernie Rhie.
So that is a self-criticism avant la lettre. If any other participants want to add, comment
or counter anything I’ve put here, I will be happy to post it on the blog.
The retreat
itself began Friday evening with 30 people sitting, tightly packed, in a large
circle in the Arts Café section of Kelly Writers House. In the center stood a
microphone on a stand, sort of half way between a totem & a giant phallus,
that may (or may not) have picked up everything everybody said. There were some
people in the room whom I had known for 25 years or more –
The purpose
of the weekend, loosely enough stated by the organizers in convening the
retreat, was to discuss the relationship between poetry & empire & the
possibility for a post-invasion poetics. The premise of the initial evening was
simply to read poems that people had brought in response to what had been made
available in advance of the event itself:
·
the
original set of six questions, discussed in some detail here last week
·
a
link to this blog (some had never seen it before)
·
another
to Peter Middleton’s “Five
Ways of Saying ‘Poetics’ and ‘Politics’ in the Same Breath” a third to Josh
Schuster’s “Notes on War Aesthetics” (which will download as an RTF file if you
click here)
A decision
was made to proceed counter clockwise around the room & Al Filreis spun a
bottle of branded water that determined that Jena Osman should go first. Some
poets used the occasion to read works that directly addressed the Iraq debacle,
including some, such as Erica Hunt’s reading from Piece
Logic, that appear to have been composed in advance of the war. Others,
such as John Koethe, who read a work entitled “Collected Poems” about Robert
Lowell’s most recent book, picked work whose connection to the conjunction
between poetry & politics was more oblique – I would put my own work among
this group. Still others focused on other events & acts of empire that
spoke to the same general dynamic – case in point being Greg Djanikian reading
from his still-in-progress manuscript of poems about the 1915 Armenian
genocide, in which the Turks slaughtered some 30 percent of the Armenian
people. Between, say, Koethe’s measured lines – one can really hear the
Stevens/New York School influences that people mention when they discuss his
writing, but he approaches it with a calmness that is markedly different from
either – and James Sherry handing out PowerPoint slides that diagrammed such
dynamics as an “Environmental View of Humanity in Nature” as an adjunct to
reading from his epic-length long work Sorry
that strives for an environmental poetics of the city (or which at least
includes the city), the range of work was spectacular. Herman Beavers & Mark
McMorris have very little in common as poets, as one might also say about
Djanikian &
After
reading our works & having a relatively brief discussion thereon, the 30
poets had used literally 3½ hours & adjourned until Saturday morning. If
anyone in the room interpreted the second
Saturday
morning found the ranks of writers in the room had grown by two as Allen
Grossman and Bernie Rhie joined the 30 already in
attendance (pushing the circle to beyond the room’s basic capacity &
causing it to take some odd detours into an alcove in order to maintain
connectedness, a strategy that meant in turn that several people did not have a
line of sight connection with every other writer). We decided to begin first
with people who had prepared some kind of statement or had something to read as
we began this “working” session, starting with Al Filreis who had declined to
read on Friday on the grounds that he is “not a poet” (he was one of four
people making such a claim over the weekend) began by reading Mervyn
Taylor’s “A Mistake,” a poem dedicated to Bob Hass that came out of a
recognition that Taylor had misspelled Hass’ last name as Bob had misspelled
Taylor’s first. It’s an interesting choice to contemplate as a political poem –
the
Peter
Middleton countered this gentle binary, if that’s the right word (supplemented? triangulated?), offering
an advertisement from a 1974 issue of Scientific
American in which a pre-Bhopal Union Carbide promised that “Today Something
We Do Will Touch Your Life.”
Rodrigo Toscano asked what political poems & similar
expressions – he called them “charms” – have achieved in the past. James Sherry
warned against getting trapped in the “narcissism of small differences” &
the “tyranny of taxonomy.” Then
Greg
Djanikian discussed the roots and problematics of his project on the Armenian
genocide. For example, since most people don’t know about it, or have forgotten
it, or don’t even know where
Erica Hunt
countered
Fanny Howe,
on the other hand, spoke of the Franciscans as revolutionaries and argued that
we needed to be able to distinguish between a process-driven search for knowing
and a more proprietary interest in knowledge. At one moment she defined Logos
as unknowability.
John Koethe
spoke “against audience” & wanted to look more deeply into Harold Bloom’s
conception that Shakespeare’s use of soliloquy is tantamount to the invention
of the human & that so much of poetry, both mainstream & avant-garde,
can be read as a mode of “self talk,” a term pointedly appropriated from
psychology.
At this
point, typing up my very cryptic notes, I feel overwhelmed at the degree to
which my description of these statements flatten out & thus misrepresent
every person cited above, but I am trying at least to give a sense of the
dynamics as they evolved over the day, a three-hour morning session followed by
lunch & a three-hour afternoon session – broken only by a fire alarm break
(we never did figure out who lit up a smoke in the bathroom – the smokers were
all in the café when the alarm went off). But as the discussion evolved, it
layered rather than ping ponged. There were possible
disagreements – Herman Beavers, perhaps the one poet in the room to actively
use personae in his writing – characterized Bloom’s conception of soliloquy as
“crass humanism.” To which Koethe readily agreed, demonstrating how he was
trying to draw the distinction precisely behind one that was “crass” &
another that in fact valued the human. Simon Weil & Joan Retallack &
Hardt & Negri were invoked. Tracie Morris spoke of the Abrahamic tradition
& the ontology of science fiction. Jennifer Moxley posed Sappho as an
example of the political.
In very
different ways, Allen Grossman and
Al Filreis
built on Kathy Lou’s comments, noting the importance politically of what he
called the non-conjunctive And, the use of the word to literally join two
incommensurate phenomena. Thus “
In a move
that would be reiterated by more than a few people over the next two days,
Herman Beaver used this moment to suggest that even as we speak we have to
interrogate our default positions, for example “interrogating the idea of
whiteness.” He drew a distinction between “having church” & “doing church,”
arguing that the latter was the more active mode of engagement. He also
discussed the function of jazz in the black community. On his notepad, I could see
the cross-hatch of a quadrant diagram: on the
horizontal or X axis, he’d written the word “jazz” & on the vertical or Y
axis, “church.”
At this
moment, Michael Fried, perhaps better known as an art critic & historian
than as a poet, told a tale about his good friend in college, the painter Frank
Stella & how, after living for a few years post-Princeton in New York,
Fried would find Stella muttering over his obsession with the jazz musician
Tim Carmody raised the figures of Brecht & Orwell for the
first time, asking us to distinguish between the laughter of shock & that
of recognition, noting that these are two radically opposed modes of humor. The
Silent Majority of the 1970s, Carmody argued, wasn’t
silent in that they let Nixon & his posse speak for them, but rather
because they wanted everybody else to tone it down & to return to a quieter
civility than had been evident in the previous decade.
Post lunch,
Frank Sherlock noted that the economy of poetry was directly linked to access
& commented that the reason the one part of the news most people remember
is the weather is because “it’s the only news where you can do something useful
as a result.” “Relevance,” Jennifer Moxley admonished, “happens when you least
expect it.”
As a whole,
the afternoon built on the terms & images put forward already in the
morning – for example the exchange between Beavers & Koethe over crass
humanism.
Erica Hunt
posed the possibility of an Idea Bank, which as I understand it would be
something akin to Bernadette Mayer’s list of experiments, only for political
action. This was an idea that people came back to on several occasions. It corresponded,
Michael
Fried noted that his greatest frustration with the rise of the right was its
cooptation of Christianity and how it had defined the church as something
authoritarian and oppressive, compared to the role of the church in the Civil
Rights Movement. Without the church as a force for change, he felt that we had
arrived at a frozen politics. “We have to unfreeze,” Erica Hunt said. “Follow
the money.” To which
At this
point people broke off for dinner and it’s worth noting how many of these
discussions continued in clusters of two & three as we ate Indian food
& got ready for the reading at the Institute for Contemporary Arts. I’m not
going to do a précis here of the reading as it will eventually be available on PENNsound, a new project
Bernstein is heading up at
By Sunday
morning, the number of participants had dwindled somewhat to 21, as a couple of
the out-of-town folks headed back to their lives elsewhere and a couple of
local participants needed to respond to family emergencies in other states.
This shifted the gender breakdown of the group somewhat, from the 19 men, 13
women of Saturday, to 15 men & six women on Sunday. One of the questions
that Erica Hunt, now absent, had communicated on several occasions the previous
afternoon & evening, reinforced by James Sherry and others, was a need to
commit to something so that this energy doesn’t all turn into so much
discursive smoke, post-retreat. A discussion was held at the outset about the
need to build & some consensus was reached to expand on the retreat website at the
very minimum.
can exclude
readers, yet many of us (myself certainly included)
use names regularly in our work. John Koethe discussed Frank O’Hara’s use of
names & how their presence in his work contributes to an
openness, rather than a closing off of the reader. Readers may not know
the individuals, but they sense the positioning of the work within a community.
Rodrigo
Toscano argued that this was a question of how you use information within the
poem. “Do you put the info out first?”
he asked. Other examples were raised, ranging from Amiri Baraka to Alexander
Pope. Understanding what to do with references,
At this
point, James Sherry suggested a new quadrant diagram for values in a poem, with
a horizontal axis of temporality – “my poem will be understandable today, but
in 50 years nobody will remember Rumsfeld & Cheney” – ranging from the
immediate to the long-term & a vertical access along the psychological (I
don’t think James spelled out the terms here, but I suspect it must range from
the most private at one end to the most communal at the other).
Tracie
Morris noted that consciousness is indeed a question of communities,
communities of reference. People feel more disenfranchises in an interpretationist perspective, because it sets up an
intermediary between reader & text.
Peter
Middleton then noted something that seemed apparent the second he said it (and
implicit in some of what Tracie Morris had been saying), that the entire
discussion of hermeticism was “doing a lot of cultural work here,” standing in
as it did for a tremendous amount of anxiety about the different levels of
education in the U.S. (reflected in the room with its various PhDs as well as
folks whose terminal degree is a high school diploma, such as Toscano or
myself) and how these reflect divisions of class & race.
A more
pointed discussion of the critique of hermeticism itself then ensued, starting
with Herman Beavers’ elaboration of pop culture quotations (“the Woody
Woodpecker song”) in the music of Sonny Rollins & followed up with John
Koethe’s account of John Ashbery’s Tennis
Court Oath, which only looks hermetic. Tracie Morris reminded people that
hermeticism also serves another purpose, as a protective code to ensure
survival. Frank Sherlock noted that we need to know why we are being hermetic. Josh Schuster wanted to insert the idea
into the Speed vs. Scale discussion of the day before, arguing that hermetic
terms function as interruptions and that interruption directly intervenes in
the Speed/Scale nexus.
Rodrigo
Toscano proposed a typology of speech act-like tropes for any interaction,
including a text: flirt, truce &
a third that he alternately termed hostility
or aggression. Confusion occurs
whenever you get interactions out of a predictable order, going, for example,
directly from hostility to flirt without an intermediating truce.
We have
evidence of a considerable will to destruction to overcome, Tim Carmody reminded everyone.
Jennifer
Moxley noted that we think we can bring “the modern world” or the present to
Which is the point at which my notes stop, and essentially the end
of the retreat. It was simultaneously exhausting, thrilling and frustrating, as
events like this always are. Allen Grossman, who only stayed during the day on
Saturday, complained at more than one point that we were only talking about
what we agreed upon, that we could talk about Bush but dare not discuss the
implications of one another’s poems. There may have been some truth to that,
but, if so, I think it applied almost entirely to the Saturday session and not
to Sunday. In retrospect, I suspect that we were simultaneously finding out
common voice that first full day and a half – given just how radically
dissimilar some of our poems are. At one point,
Where any
of this goes from here will depend really on the 30-plus members of the
community. And the others who get involved.
* Other
words that were defined during the day because not all were familiar with them
included blog, flarf and flash mob. You will have to look up Blee in the OED yourself, although I warn you the definition is not quite as
funny as Peter Middleton tells it.