Like the man Hemingway describes going bankrupt gradually and then suddenly, I realised the other day that I can no longer keep up. I’m talking about poetry, what we might loosely call ‘the poetry scene’. I don’t think I have left it (I’m not sure I ever joined), and nor do I think it has left me. But I do know I no longer have a working day-to-day knowledge of who is who and who has done what, like I used to.
(But then again, I’m not sure the poetry scene exactly knows much about who I am, either. Last year a very nice editor, no, two of them actually, wrote on their rejections how amazing my poems were for someone they had never heard of. Or words to that effect. Perhaps I should go back on Twitter, I thought. But then again, around the same time, another poet confessed to me they’d never heard of James Schuyler, so I suppose a) WTF and b) I’m in good company.)
To illustrate: there is a pile of very good books of poems in my office which, while not quite unread, is a little less thumbed than it might be. This isn’t a case of Poetry Exhaustion, I think; it’s a case of too-much-of-everything exhaustion. The aformentioned pile is by people I know, or have read with, of feel some kind of loyalty towards, their having been nice to me in a review or reading at some point. As we might say, I am invested in them. They might not like the idea, but in some slender way, I consider them my team. The problem is, no sooner do I finish the magnificent Selected Poems of Hubert Moore, than I spot out of the corner of my eye that Ailsa Holland has published her full first collection. How am I supposed to find space for what’s on the T. S. Eliot prize shortlist, let alone any of the others, let alone the collections friends (or their friends) recommend randomly? And I haven’t even mentioned the poetry that gets reviewed.
I don’t know what the answer is. I remember a time when… Well, I won’t go there. I will start to sound maudlin, or worse, angry, and I am not ready to put on the red trousers just yet. Also in this pile are books by Mark Robinson and Christopher Southgate. They are utterly wonderful. You should buy them. Now. You see how all of this keeps going round?
Lifesaving Poems 
Totally get this; I don’t currently feel like I’m keeping up with anything! — even commenting on your blog posts, which I always enjoy. I particularly loved On Going Back In. And thank you so much for mentioning my book! I hope you like it if it ever reaches the top of the pile. 🙂
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Thank you so much Ailsa. I’m relieved, kind of, that you face it too. I’m glad you liked On Going Back In. And your book. Well, wow, thank you! It is completely terrific.
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That has made me very happy! Thank you Anthony ☺️
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You are not alone! Although I read quite a bit of poetry almost every day it’s impossible to keep up. It’s hard enough to keep up with one’s own cohort. There are so many new voices clamouring for attention (but I don’t always even get the drift of what some of the younger poets are doing with their assemblages and divigations).
As for younger people not knowing the older generation of poets, I met someone only a bit younger than you and pretty well versed in contemporary poetry who hadn’t heard of Tony Harrison. Not just not read one or two of the more well-known pieces, but not even heard of him. No shame on him for that, though – it’s just to illustrate the nebulousness of any idea of canon.
All we can do is keep reading, keep listening, keep sharing what we think worth sharing.
Thank you for what you do.
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Hello Anne. Thank you for your taking the time to lend your insights. On one level, I’m glad I’m not alone. On another, I’m shocked, not least by the Tony Harrison story. Schuyler I can just about understand. We all write in reply or reaction to something or someone. But if that’s only our direct contemporaries, we have a problem. But you know this already.
Thank you again
Anthony
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Dear Dr Wilson, I greatly enjoyed your blogpost today. Unfortunately, having not kept up with the blogosphere, I have no idea who you are. Sincerely, J Harris
Dr Jim Harris
Teaching Curator
Ashmolean Museum of Art and Archaeology
Research Fellow
Somerville College
University of Oxford
jim.harris@ashmus.ox.ac.ukjim.harris@ashmus.ox.ac.uk
+44 (0)1865 288 288
+44 (0)796 885 3328
https://www.ashmolean.org/people/jim-harris
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Dear Dr Harris
Thank you for your kind comment on my blog.
Are you the same Dr Jim Harris of world-leading Caponology fame?
I am honoured to have you stop by.
I think we first met at the Polytechnic of Hatfield in 1986, when, in search of the Gents, I stumbled into one your seminars by accident. Happy times indeed.
Yours with good wishes
Dr Wilson
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It’s just a question: but do we need to be part of anything to be seen and heard? I don’t think Bukowski ever wanted to be considered part of the Beat generation and was quite happy with his typo, his wine and his cats. The rest, as they say, will take care of itself. Sorry, that’s a bit pith and doesn’t (I know) do justice to your post but it’s what came to mind. Take care, Julian
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Thank you so much Julian. The Great Examples (Bukowski; for me, Schuyler) are great, and a problem, for a reason, in that they are sui generis and therefore inimitable. I do think most of us want to be known and loved, and feel our frail words have made a connection, even if we only sell a handful of books. With thanks for your insights as ever
Anthony
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Yes, absolutely impossible to keep up. Impossible for me to afford to buy all the books of the poets I’ve heard of (or know personally), let alone the ones I don’t. Impossible to fit them on the shelves. I keep a pile of books on each stair so they feel they are on their way upstairs to the bookshelves that have no space for them. So my stairs have turned into substitute bookcases. Quite dangerous, really, and not in the least alphabetical. Meanwhile, equally impossible to read all the poetry-in-waiting well (and what other kind of reading could be appropriate…). Also I have heard (can you believe this?) there are people writing MORE of it. They say on the radio that poetry is more popular than it has ever been. In order to write it myself, which is less popular than it has ever been, I have to wear ear-muffs, so as not to hear the sound of others scribbling.
Time for a nice morsel of well-turned prose, containing helpful punctuation. Anthony Wilson’s blog will do nicely thank you.
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Hello Nell, and thank you for your dispatch from the frontier of writing, reading and scaling the stairs. I hear poetry is wildly popular, too. I have been hearing it for 20+ years now. I am relieved this isn’t my problem alone.
Always a joy to know you are reading and nodding along, and thank you again, Anthony x
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I agree, Antony. I always have a feeling of overwhelm. I have a pile of virtually unread poetry books and magazines. I have read your latest book, Antony, and have been meaning to say for a while that I enjoyed it very much. It’s honest and powerful with a brilliant use of form.
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Thank you for taking the time to comment, Pam. And thank you for buying and reading my book. I am delighted that you enjoyed it. Your words mean a great deal. Thank you again, and good wishes as always, Anthony
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I am not a poet. But I blog. And train my dog. And I play in a community band and am that group’s librarian and sit on it’s board and I advocate for safety and am on the board of Truck Safety Coalition, and attend their stuff in DC and thank goodness I no longer have a job because this being retired thing is sometimes just oo much to keep up with. I get it. And I’m so glad I found you.
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Thank you for saying so, Dawn. Your list of activities reminds me of the old joke about using your spare time… to become hyperactive. I’m so pleased you saw this post. With best wishes as ever, Anthony
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