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thehefnerNow, I'm not a fan of poetry. I love it when it's done right, but it so rarely is. Poetry's like the drums, everyone thinks they can do it. So I wasn't going to go to the poetry reading at first, but then I said to myself, "No, this is a famous guy, you need to go for your own good."
Billy Collins read to us yesterday.
For those who don't know, Billy Collins was the Poet Laureate of the United States 2001-2003. I dare say this guy is the most famous living American poet whose name isn't Maya Angelou. His books are all-time poetry best-sellers. All well and good, but the nagging question remained: is he any good? To hear others talk about him, they heap the usual, "his work touches us all, is universal, is blah blah blah" yeah, well whatever. The typical pretentious crap, right? Then the man himself took the stage.
Imagine if Garrison Keillor became a poet, and he read his work in a deadpan style like a slightly livelier Ben Stein. The man... was fucking... hilarious, and I can't help but wonder if maybe I found more humor in his work than most of the "serious poetry fans". I got a couple weird to ugly looks from people there at my giggling. It seemed that at the end of every other poem, there was a smattering of old people nodding and grunting an impressed "hm" as if he just noted upon something profoundly poignant. The thing was, for the most part he really didn't, but I realized that this man is a master of the music of the English language.
He could have just written gibberish, but the flow would have sounded so musical that it would still register a few "hm"s. Which makes me wonder how well his work holds up on the page, when it's not being read aloud. I am a firm, firm believer that poetry should be read aloud (except for concrete poems, of course, where the physical shape IS the art, usually pretentious crap). It's like the current English translations of 100 Years of Solitude and Dostoevsky, where the authors use the language so beautifully that even the most mundane of events can seem beautiful. I'm still undecided if what Collins does here is art or hollow, since for me, I generally care more about what's being said as opposed to how it is said. I'm a plot over substance man.
In between poems, he told a joke or two. My favorite: "How do you make God laugh? Make a plan." How true, Billy. How true.
"Oh, Billy!"
Billy Collins read to us yesterday.
For those who don't know, Billy Collins was the Poet Laureate of the United States 2001-2003. I dare say this guy is the most famous living American poet whose name isn't Maya Angelou. His books are all-time poetry best-sellers. All well and good, but the nagging question remained: is he any good? To hear others talk about him, they heap the usual, "his work touches us all, is universal, is blah blah blah" yeah, well whatever. The typical pretentious crap, right? Then the man himself took the stage.
Imagine if Garrison Keillor became a poet, and he read his work in a deadpan style like a slightly livelier Ben Stein. The man... was fucking... hilarious, and I can't help but wonder if maybe I found more humor in his work than most of the "serious poetry fans". I got a couple weird to ugly looks from people there at my giggling. It seemed that at the end of every other poem, there was a smattering of old people nodding and grunting an impressed "hm" as if he just noted upon something profoundly poignant. The thing was, for the most part he really didn't, but I realized that this man is a master of the music of the English language.
He could have just written gibberish, but the flow would have sounded so musical that it would still register a few "hm"s. Which makes me wonder how well his work holds up on the page, when it's not being read aloud. I am a firm, firm believer that poetry should be read aloud (except for concrete poems, of course, where the physical shape IS the art, usually pretentious crap). It's like the current English translations of 100 Years of Solitude and Dostoevsky, where the authors use the language so beautifully that even the most mundane of events can seem beautiful. I'm still undecided if what Collins does here is art or hollow, since for me, I generally care more about what's being said as opposed to how it is said. I'm a plot over substance man.
In between poems, he told a joke or two. My favorite: "How do you make God laugh? Make a plan." How true, Billy. How true.
"Oh, Billy!"
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Date: 2004-03-20 12:32 pm (UTC)Who's got time for that? When I see a new poem that hasn't been billed to me as The Greatest Living Whatever, is it up to the poem to announce its greatness to me?
I live in the terrible realization that if I picked up Hamlet, and had never heard of Shakespeare, I'd put it down after three pages of pointless crap. This fact haunts me.