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larryhammerI have what has sometimes been described* as an unfortunate taste for bad poetry. I relish it the way some people enjoy bad movies or bad novels. As in, while I may not list it as an interest, I do watch ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
reallybadpoetry. We're talking about the sort of stuff where, if you meet a line like Of compost shall the Muse disdain to sing?1 the answer will invariably and unfortunately be No.
Just as there are certain qualities of badness that make a bad movie enjoyable, so for poetry. The best bad verse reaches beyond the creator's abilities. Ye average teen angst verse has nothing on William McGonagall. I mean really -- just check out his Description of New York. Mere technical incompetence is not enough, however. There must be more.
Such as bathos -- the "art of sinking," as Pope & Co. called it. High-flown imagery soaring into a mundane thump is a wondrous thing.
Before dipping into the pool for more, be warned: ye average volume of bad poetry has a higher body count than a teen slasher flick, deployed to much less emotional effect. Yes, there are volumes -- poeple collect this stuff. The above are all culled** from The Stuffed Owl ed. by Wyndham Lewis and Lee, which is one of the essential collections for poets*** -- as object lessons, if nothing else. There are other important books, of course: the recent, not quite bad enough Very Bad Poetry ed. by Petras and Petras and the semi-classic Pegasus Descending -- which is the actual point of this post. Which is to say, I justgot my grubby paws on acquired a copy of this, and am delighted. Er, I mean horrified. Yes, horrified.
Though not perhaps enough. Its final pages do not live up to The Stuffed Owl's, which has the Best. Index. Ever. Even if it doesn't explain what a reboantic Norn is.
---L.
* By me.
** Much like predators cull the weak from the herd.
*** Much like The Unstrung Harp is for writers of all types.
Citations:
1. James Grainger, The Sugar Cane.
2. Robert Peter, On Time, Death, and Eternity.
3. Julia Moore, Lord Byron's Life. Quotes are original; ditto the grammar.
4. Thomas Chivers, The Poet's Vocation.
5. "Owen Merideth," Going Back Again.
6. Julia Moore, The Author's Early Life.
7. Robert Merry writing as Della Crusca, The Interview. The supposed speaker was in her mid-forties, and had not yet met the poet in person.
8. John, Lord Hervy, Epistle to Mr. Fox, from Hampton Court, which is almost as boggling as the lines themselves -- a young poet telling his beloved "The birds and fishes do it, why can't you?" can be forgiven, where by "forgive" I mean "publicly mocked," but this is a Lord Privy Seal writing to his middle-aged friend.
9. Margaret Cavendish, A Posset for Nature's Breakfast.
10. Joseph Cottle, The Malvern Hills.
11. George Everleigh, Science Revealed — which, as this extract demonstrates, is a work of natural theology.
reallybadpoetry. We're talking about the sort of stuff where, if you meet a line like Of compost shall the Muse disdain to sing?1 the answer will invariably and unfortunately be No. Just as there are certain qualities of badness that make a bad movie enjoyable, so for poetry. The best bad verse reaches beyond the creator's abilities. Ye average teen angst verse has nothing on William McGonagall. I mean really -- just check out his Description of New York. Mere technical incompetence is not enough, however. There must be more.
Such as bathos -- the "art of sinking," as Pope & Co. called it. High-flown imagery soaring into a mundane thump is a wondrous thing.
But ah! when first to breathe man does beginAnd then there's disjoints between style and substance:
He then inhales the noxious seeds of sin,
Which every goodly feeling does destroy
And more or less his after-life annoy.2
"Lord Byron" was an EnglishmanVictories of sound over sense:
A poet I believe,
His first works in old England
Was poorly received.
Perhaps it was "Lord Byron's" fault
And perhaps it was not.
His life was full of misfortunes,
Ah, strange was his lot.3
In the music of the morns,Tin ears:
Blown through Conchimarian horns,
Down the dark vistas of the reboantic Norns,
To the Genius of Eternity,
Crying: "Come to me! Come to me!"4
When I came to the little rose-colour'd room,Underbaked diction:
From the curtains out flew a bat.
The window stood open: and in the gloom
My love at the window sat.5
And now, kind friends, what I have wrote,Overheated diction:
I hope you will pass o'er,
And not to criticise as some have done
Hitherto herebefore.6
"Ne'er will I quit th' undeviating line,Unfortunate kennings:
Whose source thou art, and thou the law divine.
The Sun shall be subdued, his system fade,
Ere I forsake the path thy fiat made;
Yet grant one soft regretful tear to flow,
Prompted by pity for a Lover's woe,
O grant without revenge, one bursting sigh,
Ere from his desolating grief I fly—
'Tis past,—Farewell! Another claims my heart;
Then wing thy sinking steps, for here we part,
We part! and listen, for the word is mine,
Anna Matilda never can be thine!"7
Would any feather'd maiden of the wood,Incompatible metaphors:
Or scaly female of the peopled flood,
When lust and hunger call'd, its force resist?
In abstinence or chastity persist?8
Life scums the cream of Beauty with Time's spoon9Depleted banalities:
Still I toil.And thundering bores:
How long and steep and cheerless the ascent!
It needs the evidence of close deduction
To know that I shall ever reach the height!10
Thus, if a Government agrees to give,
Whenever Public Companies are formed,
To each a dividend—say, six percent
Per annum ... 11
Before dipping into the pool for more, be warned: ye average volume of bad poetry has a higher body count than a teen slasher flick, deployed to much less emotional effect. Yes, there are volumes -- poeple collect this stuff. The above are all culled** from The Stuffed Owl ed. by Wyndham Lewis and Lee, which is one of the essential collections for poets*** -- as object lessons, if nothing else. There are other important books, of course: the recent, not quite bad enough Very Bad Poetry ed. by Petras and Petras and the semi-classic Pegasus Descending -- which is the actual point of this post. Which is to say, I just
Though not perhaps enough. Its final pages do not live up to The Stuffed Owl's, which has the Best. Index. Ever. Even if it doesn't explain what a reboantic Norn is.
---L.
* By me.
** Much like predators cull the weak from the herd.
*** Much like The Unstrung Harp is for writers of all types.
Citations:
1. James Grainger, The Sugar Cane.
2. Robert Peter, On Time, Death, and Eternity.
3. Julia Moore, Lord Byron's Life. Quotes are original; ditto the grammar.
4. Thomas Chivers, The Poet's Vocation.
5. "Owen Merideth," Going Back Again.
6. Julia Moore, The Author's Early Life.
7. Robert Merry writing as Della Crusca, The Interview. The supposed speaker was in her mid-forties, and had not yet met the poet in person.
8. John, Lord Hervy, Epistle to Mr. Fox, from Hampton Court, which is almost as boggling as the lines themselves -- a young poet telling his beloved "The birds and fishes do it, why can't you?" can be forgiven, where by "forgive" I mean "publicly mocked," but this is a Lord Privy Seal writing to his middle-aged friend.
9. Margaret Cavendish, A Posset for Nature's Breakfast.
10. Joseph Cottle, The Malvern Hills.
11. George Everleigh, Science Revealed — which, as this extract demonstrates, is a work of natural theology.