Sunday, November 6, 2011

I want some more of Moore

Marianne Moore is a breath of fresh air. Her style and poetry meets the reader in a genuine and thoughtful way. Her work "Poetry" begins by frankly stating "I, too, dislike it" referring to the very thing she has devoted her life to. Ironically, for me this allowed a feeling of relief: the poet herself understands me and my frustration over the difficulty in understanding poetry! She breaks the ice and finds common ground where all can stand on. However, she doesn't end here. She states that by having a "perfect contempt" for poetry offers, in fact, a place for genuine understanding.

Clearly, Moore is in a tizzy over the haughty interpretations critics approach poetry. When they attempt to intellectualize poetry down to its core, their response becomes "unintelligble." Because we cannot admire what we do not understand, we mare its significance and its beauty for what it is.

To describe the beauty in peculiar things, she offers allusions to nature--a bat resting upside down, an elephant pushing, a tireless wolf under a tree. In the middle of these descriptions, she cleverly puts in "the immovable critic twitching his skin like a horse that feels a flea." Putting this in is comical, because the first image that came into my head when reading this line was that of an animal. I instinctively read "critic" as "critter." Perhaps, she is mocking the "high society" class of criticism in poetry?

She calls poets that aim too high in their craft, "half poets." What must happen for a "half poet" to become whole is to take on the "literalists of the imagination." Imagination, then, is key to all poetry. Her phrase "imaginary gardens with real toads in them" is a catchy phrase and a fun image. Moore finishes her poem with saying that one is interested in poetry if one demand's that there be both rawness and genuine qualities.

I think Moore is saying that the imagination is the root of all rawness and ingenuity. The imagination cannot be contrived or perceived as anything but your own mind. The imagination is what brings poetry to life. When critics try to force imagination out of poetry, they kill the very art of poetry itself.

Similarly, in her poem "The Mind is an Enchanting Thing" describes the ethereal quality of the human imagination and intellect. It helped me to put the poem into a bullet point:

The Mind is an Enchanting Thing like...
1) the glaze on a katydid-wing
2) Gieseking playing Scarlatti
3) apteryx-awl

The mind is an enchanting thing that...
1) has memory's ear
2) has the power of strong enchantment
3) tears the veil

The first three examples are certainly "enchanting" things --a hero of Greek myth, a Classical Greek, and a flightless New Zealand bird. On top of these words' actual meaning, I believe she picked these three things because they are unique words and had particularly interesting pronunciations and articulations.

Near the end of the poem, she says that the mind "tears off the veil." This could very well be an allusion to Jesus' death where the veil tore in two. I believe this to be true because the end of her poem relates to the biblical story of Salome and the beheading of John the Baptist. She ends the poem with "it's not a Herod's oath that cannot change." The back story behind Herod is that he made a promise to his step-daughter Salome that he would give her anything she wished...and she chose the head of John the Baptist (sheesh, most daughters would ask for a husband, wouldn't ya think?). Herod gave an oath he couldn't return--unlike what the mind can do. I think what she's trying to get at here is that the mind is not nearly as rigid as a promise. It can move in every which way, having feelings and emotions that alter and vary. It is truly man's greatest tool, but also must be used wisely, as it can vary so that it can go to many extremes.

Moore's poetry is enchanting. She wrote at a particularly telling time in history in the 1920s-1960s where women were gaining prominence in literary circles. She wrote in a unique manner where stanzas were counted by syllables. She was subtle in her approach, but resonates deeply when one takes the time to truly appreciate her work. It is obvious that she does not try to be someone other than herself in her work; the honesty she presents is what makes her so endearing. When you know that a person is truly writing from their soul, that is when you can distinguish between the half poet and the whole.



4 comments:

  1. Garrett, I like the point you make at the end of your post about Moore not trying to be anyone but herself in her poetry. I think that is helpful way of thinking about her work, for she does have an interesting poetic voice that seems to have resonated with all of our bloggers this week.

    You get the impression that Moore's work flows naturally from her mind. She certainly is more immediately accessible than, say, Pound or Eliot. But she never sacrifices wit or imagination in her works, which is indeed significant.

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  2. I agree with you, Garrett, that her poetry seems much more accessible. It is always nice when a poet seems to be much more "real" by admitting their own "contempt." It is interesting to read Moore after Eliot, who intentionally tried to be difficult. This juxtaposition brings to light the question of what is truly valuable in poetry - complexity or raw emotion.
    While I agree with much of your post I would have to disagree with the notion that "we cannot admire what we do not understand." There are many things in this world that I know I will never fully understand, great artwork, poetry and nature, yet I can admire its beauty.

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  3. It was a nice change in scenery to read Moore's work. I did feel it was somewhat easier for me to understand, yet I struggle to understand most poetry. I also agree that it is hard to admire something without understanding it. I think if you don't even have some understanding of it, you can't even appreciate its beauty. It just becomes a pointless piece. I've seen "art" that was merely a giant blank piece of paper. I don't understand how that could be art, and therefore have no appreciation of it. The same thing with poetry. A person may just write a random conglomeration of words and call it poetry, but if there is no understanding of it, anyone could make something and say it is wonderful without there actually being any substance to it. So I believe at some level there has to be somewhat of an understanding in order to appreciate the matter of the thing.

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  4. I can't help but compare Moore's description of poetry that poetry creates "imaginary gardens with real toads in them" and compare it to the Romantics. As we just read in Shelley, the imagination is central to the poet but he associates the art form with prophets and lawmaking, heady stuff of consequences. Comparatively, real toads in a fake garden seems anti-climatic to say the least. I wonder if the art of poetry has changed over the time between Shelley and Moore, or if it's simply just a matter of culture and how we talk about art (or life, for that matter) changing. I don't have an answer to it, but it's an interesting thought.

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