Recently I asked readers of Shady Dealings to weigh in on a French indifference I'd experienced concerning American Poetry. One never quite knows what to expect when opening a mailbag and my lack of expectations matched that. In total I received a little more than three dozen responses. Two-thirds of the letters contained no more than three little words, "Fuck the French". One missive even included me; not only could the French fuck themselves but I was invited to do so as well (this only leads me to believe that my mother is once again writing pseudonymously).
Instead of a proper response to what I'd written, Ruth P. of Cold Spring, Minnesota sent me a long, syrupy and utterly intolerable "baking Christmas candy" poem,
"My cupboard / overflows / with sugar / brown and white, / syrup / dark and light... / Love from The Sweet Land / of the Candy Kitchen."
I am not sure why this was sent as a response. I can only guess that she was either attempting to further alienate others away from American poetry or she wanted others to realize the devastating effects of senility.
But apart from the succinct profane abuse and the inability for energy, at times, to travel from one synapse to another, I did receive a few letters addressing the point. Our illustrious and benevolent editor, Joel, wrote the following:
"Contemporary American poetry is in a muddle not because there are too many poets or publishers, but because there are too few readers. Academics and literati may believe otherwise, but it is the general reading public that picks the stars, and without them there are no stars- there is nothing to set your compass by."
My favorite letter (here excerpted) came from Britt F. of Mankato, Minnesota,
"...we need to ask ourselves what poetry has ever meant in America and what we think it is. This is where we will begin to see cultural differences arise. My guess is that there may be people in France who read poetry, without thinking they can write it, just as one may appreciate a painting or symphony without having any artistic or musical talent whatsoever. We would be hard-pressed in Avignon or in St. Paul to find many citizens who, having viewed a movie, would attempt to make one, or having attended a jazz festival, would buy a saxophone and start blowing. So why is poetry fair game?
It is as true in our country as it is anywhere else in the world that the only physical tools required for the creation of a poem are pen and paper. Very cheap, and very accessible, to anyone. And almost everyone here can read and write, to some extent. The problem, I think, is that so many Americans think that's all it is. Words on paper.
Apparently, many of the French may regard our poetry as being watered down and tasteless, bottled in large quantities by those who are able to spell their own names. We should not expect them to "trudge though" it, "looking for what is good and who are the real poets," but it is encouraging that there is something recognized as being "good," despite everything. Given the chance, I would love to tell them (over a glass of Cognac) that there is excellent work to be found, some of right here in the Twin Cities. There is poetry, there is wine, there is beer, and there are those who are passionate for these things, and for all things. And it's getting better every day. They may have to be patient, though, which, if they read enough poetry, they surely are."
Bill C. of White Bear Lake chastised me for my elitism and arrogance (for which I have no argument) before asking a very good question:
"Did American poetry ever mean anything in France? Please point me to a time or an era and then show me the steady decline."
It's a damn good question. I don't have an answer but I will pursue one. Thank you, Mr. C.
Back into the mailbag:
"There has been nothing in the 20th or 21st century in American poetry that is very interesting. Walt Whitman was probably the last solid American poet and not much came before him. Americans have never had a firm handle on poetry."
-Kristen L. of Minneapolis
Well, for as elitist and arrogant as I am, I cannot even come close to agreeing with Kristen. America has more than its share and history of world-shattering poets. The question is where we are today. America seems to be burying too many of its current world-shattering poets underneath politics, business, and novelty. Ben S. of Minneapolis states it well when he says,
"... Art has been taken out of American poetry. How could the French, or anyone else, respect that?"
Here at Shady Dealings we will continue to explore those darkened, dust bunnied corners where poetry is abused, sullied, and made ridiculous (at least until Mr. Van Valin pulls the plug). Poetry was never meant to be treated like a step child and we recognize that. Elitist? Arrogant? Absolutely, but it's for something we are deeply passionate about - poetry.
For now, the mailbag is closed.