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It's never too late, though. If you're interested in poetry, both reading and especially attempting to write it, I strongly urge you to read this essay by Walt McDonald. I'd really like to hear your own "take" on his advice.
http://www.valpo.edu/vpr/mcdonaldessay.html
Nice one, Auntie. Thank you. It reinforces the mantra you have been repeating in this forum: show not tell.
I like what he wrote about abstraction.
"He's gay; I see the dainty grace of his pinkie."
I went back to edit after reading the essay.
"He's gay; his dainty pinkie won't curl with the rest.
Do you think there's a difference?
The exaltation of imagery and the damnation of abstraction has lead to more bad poetry in the 20th century than any other dictum out there. I understand why Pound and the imagists latched onto imagery as a paradigm, because they were coming out of a long tradition of frequently interminable abstract ramblings. In such a context, paring everything down to images was like a breath of fresh air. But that fresh air has turned equally moldy from overuse. As Coleridge said: "Every reform, however necessary, will by weak minds be carried to an excess, that itself will need reforming." Imagism has been carried to excess by weak minds and is badly in need of reforming.Quote:
Originally Posted by AuntShecky
I think the basic idea of "going in fear of abstractions" could be applied to almost any tool of any art-form. Go in fear of excess of any tool, and go equally in fear of complete ignorance of any other. Imagery and abstraction are both just tools for expression, and both have their uses and their limitations. When you think of the great lines of poetry, there's a good chance that most of them will be quite abstract;
"To be or not to be; that is the question"
'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.'
“The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.”
“Better to reign in Hell, than to serve in Heaven.”
"DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,"
"While with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things."
"To err is human; to forgive, divine."
The list could go on. Not to mention that a great poet like Donne wrote the vast majority of time in abstractions; with him, it's the complexity of his conceptual thought and metaphors that makes him memorable, not powerful imagery. Personally, I feel the best usage of imagery and abstraction are as contrasts. Some of the most powerful poems I know of are written almost entirely in abstractions or imagery, but saves the other for a key moment. One example of the "abstraction leads to image" is Shakespeare's Sonnet 29:
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
Shakespeare saves the only solid image in the poem until the key moment at L11-12. The effect it has is one of a release from all of the negative abstractions that have come before it (one could also point out that they're the only line to be enjambed); it really does feel as if it's "breaking away" from all the negativity. An example of the opposite is James Arlington Wright's "Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy's Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota:"
Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly,
Asleep on the black trunk,
blowing like a leaf in green shadow.
Down the ravine behind the empty house,
The cowbells follow one another
Into the distances of the afternoon.
To my right,
In a field of sunlight between two pines,
The droppings of last year's horses
Blaze up into golden stones.
I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on.
A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home.
I have wasted my life.
While it's not as skillfully managed as Shakespeare's poem, it basically uses the same idea of building itself up with imagery and saving the abstraction as a gut-punch on the last line. What makes these two poems work is that wonderful contrast at just the right moment. One might say that Wright's piece feels slightly more gimmicky in its usage than Shakespeare's (I think it makes an impact once, but doesn't reward rereadings), but all the more evidence that neither imagery or abstractions alone make for a good poem. It's more about the timing and what any individual poem is trying to accomplish.
I agree. The article itself seemed an example of too much "telling" and not enough "showing". I don't need to be told what Pound said over and over again. I need to be shown enough examples to become convinced he was right.Quote:
Originally Posted by MorpheusSandman
It seems to me that in art one has to both show and tell and the combination of these is what makes the work successful or not.
More generally, I see telling as what one does when someone quotes an authority. This is necessary because it saves time. The showing is the evidence that brings in new insight which is then summarized in telling a new conclusion.
The most abstract is probably Wordsworth, who is often so vague. Just trying reading Tintern Abbey - all abstractions. It is still a great poem, because they work together to make a sort of confusing pun - the loss is lost in the inability to describe.
Well, I suppose by many people's definition, I enjoy bad poetry. It wins awards and is published by some respected presses, but I guess it is still bad.
I've never been able to grasp the concept of abstract. I just don't get it. Sometimes, I've been given a very clear example, but it is an example because it's an exemplary instance and clear to understand, not because that's how abstractions actually work in most poems.
I also don't write in images. Sometimes, there may be images, but they usually aren't very detailed. More often, I am playing with language.
Whenever I hear this idea of "show, don't tell" describe, I imagine a poem that is only description.
What I think Walt McDonald meant about abstractions was that beginning poets often bite off more than they are prepared to chew by taking on the big profound topics: love, beauty, death, loss, freedom, etc. and since the meanings of these decidedly less than concrete terms are vague, with differing connotations for each reader and writer, we should be wary of abstractions. Instead of trying to describe these idealistic notions, it's better for young writers to start with the specific, using concrete terms rather than to expound on generalizations .
Probably easiest to think of abstraction in writing as anything that can't be imagined through the senses. You can't see/smell/touch/taste/etc. "love," but you can do all of those things to a rose, so "my love is like a red, red, rose" turns an abstraction like "love" into a tangible image of a "rose".Quote:
Originally Posted by TenderButtons
Poems like Pound's In a Station at the Metro or Williams' The Red Wheelbarrow are good examples of imagism as they ARE poems of pure description.Quote:
Originally Posted by TenderButtons
No, I understand what he's saying, but I just think it's bad advice. Instead of teaching writers to avoid abstractions he should be teaching them how to utilize them effectively. I honestly don't think there's anything inherently BETTER about specific, concrete terms at all, or that young writers are going to get magically better by avoiding abstractions and writing in concrete images. One can write poems doing nothing but listing such concrete images, but they're rarely good or memorable unless there's some abstraction to tie them together.Quote:
Originally Posted by AuntShecky
I think your example of "My love is like a red, red rose" demonstrates how to deal with abstraction through the use of a concrete image. My interpretation of the article seems very relevant to some of the poetry posted that begins with the big ideas but fails to relate it to a real image as Shakespeare does in the quote.
I also think you are underestimating Pound's In a Station at the Metro. It is not purely description, but uses the image of the people -petals - to hint at their being something more beautiful/ fragile than the environment they are in - the station/ black bough. He's not beginning with an abstraction of their fragility/ beauty, but demonstrating it through the concrete image. I see this is the point of the article too - you can point the reader towards the poetic idea rather than stuff the abstraction in their face without an orientating image.
I didn't meant to imply that there wasn't anything else suggested by Pound's poem, but merely that on the literal level it is pure description. Pound and the imagists felt that images alone were enough to carry connotations, themes, and subtle meanings without the aid of abstractions, so even when they wrote poems of "pure description," there are always deeper implications behind the description.
Yes - I agree with that. The way forward with writing poetry is to try to accommodate the abstract themes within a series of relevant images. I agree that a list of iages doesn't make for a good poem usually, and that the poetic idea of the poem needs to be something more than the mundane for it to be worthwhile.
Why more than the mundane? Mostly that is our lives so poetry should deal with that too.
Does the mundane make interesting poetry? I think the mundane may very well be the setting for a poetic idea, but who wants to read what I had for dinner unless it has some significance other than as a list of what I ate, when and how?Quote:
Originally Posted by Eiseabhal