I found out today that April is national poetry month. Poetry is sadly neglected in modern life. It is an art form solely dedicated to beauty, expressed in language. What is it about modern life that we think we don't need more beauty?
In celebration of the month, I intend to scribble a poem every day. I will publish some of them here. Maybe all of them. Depends on how much Jameson's Irish whisky I take as I compose.
The first one is a limerick I composed on the fly for my son when his schoolteacher told him to write a limerick for a school assignment and he asked how it was done. I dedicate it to the pastor at our local church, Fr. Michael Flannery, who was born in Limerick, Ireland. What the heck.
There was a fine fellow named Gore,
Who hungrily ate more and more.
He scarfed twenty beets
And four cases of meats
And threw them up on his new floor.
For example, when Paul McCartney was first asked by a member of the press how he felt about the murder of John Lennon, his simple reply was, "It's a drag, isn't it?" Some people thought that line was callously flip -- those people are idiots. The response was perfectly beautiful, restrained, and forced the listener to imagine what McCartney might have been thinking.
McCartney himself perfectly defended the point a few years later in an interview with Playboy, when he said, "If I said anything about John, I would have to sit here for five days and say it all. Or I don't want to say anything." Exactly.
Or how about the final line of Randall Jarrell's poem "Death of the Ball Turret Gunner"? "When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose." Cold and simple, far from the experience of a brutal death, and yet very, very close to it. Because we have to imagine the words the dead soldier might say about the way he died. The pain he might have felt. They are not given to us.
What of Robert Duvall's great lines in Apocalyspe Now, always the biggest laugh-getters for any audience seeing the movie for the first time: "I love the smell of napalm in the morning," and the immortal "Some day this war is going to end"? Neither line comes anywhere near expressing what it says, and the huge gap between the words and their implications is where the humor lies.
None of this is to say that I am a minimalist. Or that I think words in art should not be chosen very carefully. But when I am reaching for an emotion, or seeking an effect on the audience, I don't think it is necessary to aim close to the emotion. Sometimes aiming far away is more useful.
This is, by the way, why I find political speeches, even the ones the pundits praise, so tiresome. Political speakers always try to get to the heart of the matter, they try to express the feelings of the audience with precision. This leaves me with a bored feeling. I don't want anyone talking for me. I want them to show they know what I am feeling without trying to put my feelings into words.
"But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract." -- A. Lincoln.Yes.
"I feel your pain." -- Bill Clinton.No. Hell no.
Truman Capote, In Cold Blood, p. 79