Postmodern poetry - tell me what you know!
Kristiina Prauda
I am supposed to write a 20-page paper on the theory of postmodern poetry
in a Master level English seminar, concentrating on American postmodernism.
As a part of it, I would like to find out what ordinary reading people
think of postmodern poetry - what does it mean, what features does it
include, what poet(s) could be classified as postmodern...
I am not asking you to do my theory for me; I will do my own reading.
What I ask is your views and opinions as they are, to see what is generally
known of postmodern poetry among people that read a lot and perhaps write
themselves. Even if you know very little or nothing, that is also valuable
information. I only want an impression of how widely and well this hard-
to-define trend of poetry is (probably not very well).
Below are some questions: you can answer them, or write freely whatever
thoughts you have. Reply to this post or email me (the address is the
same), or if you think this subject is worth a more general discussion,
post to the net. I have also posted a similar query to alt.postmodern
and rec.arts.books (I don't think crossposting is a good idea - gets
confusing in the long run).
If you are interested, I can let you know what kind of results I get
from this very informal survey, and also how my paper turns out.
Thank you beforehand for your help!
Questions:
- What is postmodern poetry? How would you define it? Or can it really
be defined as a separate subgenre of poetry at all?
- What technical features and devices make a poem postmodern? What
thematical features?
- What poet(s) would you consider postmodern?
+ Do you have any suggestions for good reading on the subject?
+ Please state how much experience you have on literature (e.g. just
generally read a lot; some University level courses; a lit. major...)
and on postmodern poetry (nothing or general knowledge; reading on the
subject; general literature courses; separate course(s) on postmodernism
or some postmodern poet...).
Once more, thank you!
Kristiina Prauda
University of Helsinki, Finland
pra...@dol-guldur.hut.fi
R o d Johnson
>I am supposed to write a 20-page paper on the theory of postmodern poetry
>in a Master level English seminar, concentrating on American postmodernism.
>As a part of it, I would like to find out what ordinary reading people
>think of postmodern poetry - what does it mean, what features does it
>include, what poet(s) could be classified as postmodern...
I'd like to help, but I'm afraid postmodernism as I know it and poetry
(in fact, literature) as I know it don't overlap much. Postmodernism
for me depends on the myth of Modernism, and literary Modernism seems
to have a much more circumscribed meaning in literature than it does
in art or architecture. Much of twentieth-century American poetry
seems either trivially Modernist (i.e., in the tradition of
Yeats/Pound/Eliot/Williams/Moore/etc.) or trivially postmodernist
(i.e., having moved on from the concerns of the defining Modernists).
What I take to be the defining characteristic of postmodernism--
getting out from under the all-conquering doctrines of Modernism,
opting out of its aporias rather than wrestling with them, getting out
of that suit and having some *fun* for a change--doesn't seem of great
concern in modern English-language poetry.
No doubt, though, everyone has their own sense of the postmodern, as
usual, and someone is going to cite Etheridge Knight or Frank O'Hara
or Alan Dugan or Mina Loy or Ron Padgett or Mark Leyner or some random
person as the quintessential postmodern poet, for some random reason
or other. But these reasons are never clear and often reduce to
"Generation X"-level hipness value or "my teacher says"-type received
ideas. Or worse, the kind of too-clever-by-half superciliousness and
infra-dig that makes alt.postmodern such a waste of human life.
(Oops, kinda slid into rant mode there! Sorry. Read on.)
I know a book that argues Pound--the very person most often taken as
the father of the Modern--was postmodern in method, even. It's not an
absurd idea. Modernist monuments like The Cantos, "The Wasteland",
David Jones' "Anathemata", all use standard "postmodern" strategies:
parody, pastiche, quoting, telescoping history, multiple voices. But
how could these be "postmodern" if "youngsters" like Jeff Koons, Keith
Haring, John Adams, Philip Johnson (there's a joke here somewhere) are
also postmodern? Are music, art and architecture just catching up?
Is there some kind of radical disjunction in the meaning of
"postmodern"? Or was the "Modernism" of the New Critics, "The Sun
Also Rises", "Le Sacre du Printemps", the late Eliot, Le Corbusier and
Analytical Cubism a *retreat* from the frightening, intoxicating
possibilities raised by "Hugh Selwyn Mauberley", "The Love Song of J.
Alfred Prufrock", the Church of the Sagrada Familia, "Tender Buttons",
"Gurrelieder", "Les Demoiselles d'Avignon", and "L.H.O.O.Q"--a kind of
neoclassicism? William Carlos Williams thought so.
In other words, the Offical Story of Modernism and the postmodern is a
mess. All of them.
So I'm at a loss. Perhaps this discussion could be eased if you would
provide a couple examples of the poets you're labelling "postmodern"
as a benchmark (rather than trying to elicit what is sure to be a
confusing and superficial set of resonses), and we could talk about
what this label is trying to get at.
Whew.
--
Rod Johnson * r...@caen.engin.umich.edu * (313) 764-3103
"The spaceship looked utterly like itself" --Robert Sheckley
Joe Green
>In article <PRAUDA.92J...@dol-guldur.hut.fi> pra...@dol-guldur.hut.fi (Kristiina Prauda) writes:
>
>>I am supposed to write a 20-page paper on the theory of postmodern poetry
>>in a Master level English seminar, concentrating on American postmodernism.
>>As a part of it, I would like to find out what ordinary reading people
>>think of postmodern poetry - what does it mean, what features does it
>>include, what poet(s) could be classified as postmodern...
>
>
What you need to write about postmodernism is in this poem.
The Moon, A Cat, Chuck Berry, The Poet Goethe
The Duke of Erl
The moon was walking his cat under a mulberry tree.
Chuck Berry came up.
"What you doing with that funky cat, Mr. Moon?"
"That ain't no cat," said the moon.
"I know that," said Chuck, but it was too late.
Before he knew it he was playing at the Bongo club.
Just then a poet named Wally found the moon.
"Fuck this," said the moon and turned him into
a neon palm tree in the window of the Bongo.
Chuck Berry played "Maybelline." Helplessly.
The poetpalm drizzled color helplessly into the rainslick street.
You drove by. In your black limousine.
The moon drove his silver buckboard across the sky.
Whistled "Lilliburo."
The cat said: "Just once I wish that nobody would fuck up."
The mulberry tree dreamed that the moon was out walking his cat.
________________________________________________________________________________
The moon wanted to visit her favorite star. She called her up.
"Just now I'm with the poet Goethe," the star said.
"Ok," said the moon and went down to visit a dying child.
The child saw the moon standing on her bridge of ice.
"Oh, Papa," she cried. "Look, look at the moon!"
"Oh, no, no, no!" said the Father.
_____________________________________________________________________________
The poet Goethe wanted to visit the moon.
He wanted to see what she'd say about his theory of colors.
He wanted her opinion on architecture as frozen music.
He wanted to squeeze tangerines over her
breasts while she wore nothing but a
dress of crushed velvet.
Also, he thought, there should be tango dancers.
He arrived in a golden coach with a letter of introduction
from her favorite star.
"Hey, Goethe", the moon said, "Hop in."
The moon was driving her silver Duesenberg.
"Wow," said the poet Goethe. "Nice car."
And he told her some poems hoping to start the
evening off right.
The moon was wearing pearly silver driving gloves
and a mulberry-colored thong. Her nipples glinted
starglitter. She spoke moon talk which is mostly
words like "auranthe" and "dillydally" and "tiara."
"What's that, dear boy?" the moon said glancing at the
bulge in his silken trousers and incidentally hitting
the Hubble telescope.
The poet Goethe blushed and continued to blush as
they skimmed over the Atlantic and finally pulled
up in front of the Bongo club.
The poet Goethe hobbled from the Doozy and pretended
to be fascinated by the neon palm tree as it drizzled
red green brown and a transparent orange never yet seen
on land, sea, or in the sky on the sidewalk.
He stumbled into the club. The moon was already seated
at a little table up front. She was drinking a pink
daiqueri and chatting with Chuck Berry.
"Go, Chuck, go," a transvestite named Jacques called from
across the room.
"Break's over, I guess," said Chuck. "Nice to meet you
Goethe." The moon patted Chuck on the ass. Goethe wriggled.
They danced till 4.
Chuck left counting his money.
The moon and Goethe went upstairs with Brandy and
the moon watched as Jacques did things to the poet
until he was crawling on all fours and yelping like
Chuck Berry.
The moon left and walked on her ice bridge.
The little girl was dead. The father watched helplessly.
The moon had a last smoke. Flicked the cigarette
across the sky. It fell like this...
.
.
.
It was a dying fall.
Copyright 1992 Owl Oak Press
--
Dani Zweig
>As a part of [a 20-page paper on the theory of postmodern poetry], I would
>like to find out what ordinary reading people think of postmodern poetry
Then you should direct the question to a newsgroup read by ordinary people.
Kristiina Prauda
>Rod Johnson complains that he it at loss with my questions and would
>like me to explain what I mean.
Rod,
thank you for your comments. Believe me, you are not the only one at
loss! :-)
And I know it IS somewhat superficial to try to put the label of
postmodernism on any poetry, because the term does not seem to be
a) very clearly defined b) suitable for poetry, but much better for
prose or architecture (so I have heard). But my teacher thinks it can
be done (she's American herself, and a very serious scholar), and I
have to believe her.
There are not very many critics that have written about this stuff,
because most of them seem to think it just isn't relevant. That is
why I am trying to find out whether anyone knows anything at all about
the whole subject, or whether there is anything at all to know. Some
people do think that the term "postmodern poetry" is possible and
even sensible as a research subject - I'm not sure I will be one of
them once this is over... :-) But there is at least one poet who is
considered a "typical postmodernist poet", I just would not like to
say who before other people have made their comments. Rod, email me
if you like to continue the discussion about that further.
And to everyone - I am being a bit vague on purpose, because I don't
want to put ideas into your heads. I want to hear what you had there
yourself. :-) When I've had a bit more responses, I could try
elaborating a little. But what I want now are more first impulse
comments. There are no right answers! This is like those test at the
beginning of a semester, where the teacher just wants to find out what
the students know beforehand, so he'll know where to start.
So, any others?
Kristiina Prauda
pra...@dol-guldur.hut.fi
P.S. I'm not particularly fond of that dreaded word myself... :-) But
I'm determined to survive this course alive <sigh>.