Saturday, October 3, 2009

The selections from Bum Rush the Page present problems of academic analysis that are difficult to resolve. The overtly political, gritty nature of the poems emphatically resist the establishment, including the “white” canon, which embodies most “academic” literature. In Bum Rush’s spoken word poems, the rift between white and black, academia and street smarts, oppressor and oppressed are kicked into overdrive; and for this reason, to interpret them using the same language reserved for the poems of academia would be to dishonor them, to strip them of their power and dilute their meaning. Spoken word poems often flout or manipulate academic “rules”, using instead their own languages, poetic devices and forms that result less from a theoretical, intellectual approach to writing poetry than with an ear toward rhythm, masculine rhyme, and the vernacular. The poem’s arrangement on the page is far less significant than the poem’s message and so the poem comes to life only through vocal expression. Spoken word poems are inciteful, not quietly reflective. Thus, for the literary critic, the question becomes: how does one explain the inner mechanism of a poem designed to thwart mechanism? To write “academically” is to approach poetry writing with an eye for theory and the traditional idea of form (I think back to William Carlos Williams’ description of the poem as a machine). The ideal academic poem contains no “useless” words. Great care is taken with line breaks, with page arrangement, with concealing rhyme cleverly, and with metrical/syllabic/quantitative considerations (generally speaking). In order to write “academically,” one must step back from the work, from the emotion that produced it, investigate it objectively and approach it with the intellect. Conversely, the spoken word poems that have the greatest effect are those that are pounded out from the heartbeat, from intense emotion, that radiate in the heat of the moment. Otherwise, they lose their power, their ability to incite. This is not to say that spoken word poems do not have form, use poetic devices, or possess great academic power. But these concerns are secondary to the raw emotion from which the poem seeks to capitalize and to its message. These poems are written out of necessity and are, therefore, necessary. 

“In Praise of the Seattle Coalition” begins with an impossible statement: “They came from around the globe to change the shape of the globe.” This opening line sets up the fantastical nature of the poem, and prepares us to receive an inventory of the poem’s impossible tasks: ending human rights violations, slavery, the marketing of unsafe food, racial profiling and senseless violence. Why am I expecting impossible tasks? One simply cannot change the shape of the globe, that’s why. From this, I would expect that the remainder of the poem will present the reader with unresolvable situations, impossible images, and unlikely resolutions. Certain “impossible” images include “the town salmon agreed to wear union windbreakers for the week” and “the air sucked up to help out” and then “dolphins swimming in mid street.” These impossible scenarios are not simply frivolous, however. They speak to the deeper themes of equality, global environmental responsibility, and the pitfalls of rampant capitalism. But the very fact that the images are impossible foreshadows the revelation that the desired outcomes are also impossible to attain. Human beings are greedy by nature, for example. Yet, the line, “Of course the corporations were defeated” seems incredibly unlikely considering our nature and the lessons we should have learned from the past. The poet says, “of course,” with a wink and a nod, knowing that there’s no certainty about it. Money always wins. It always has. The likelihood that this will change is virtually nil. This is irony. The irony, while said with a smirk, belies a deeper sadness that I believe the author knows we will never truly overcome. You can’t change human nature and you can’t change the shape of the globe. 

Even with this pessimistic realization, it is hard to determine whether or not the poem ends on a sad note. Even though we can’t change human nature, the poet tells us that we are not necessarily fighting alone. Perhaps if we can’t beat our own destructive nature, Nature itself will help us. In the poem, the mountain ranges are saluting the effort, the Pacific is roaring its approval, the air is keeping itself clean, the trees are in a stand off with the World Trade Organization, and did I mention the salmon? Perhaps the underlying message of “In Praise” is that with nature’s help and nature as the focus, perhaps we can solve these impossible tasks. Perhaps not. After all, you can’t change the shape of the globe. Or can you?

--H.K.

3 comments:

  1. HK
    when you first started this post, i worried, what is she going to do with this academic v bum rush world and you did just the right thing in this case--you recognized the place they take in the scheme of things. I do think there is some value to placement and we'll talk about this. But otherwise, you flew.
    e

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  2. so i read this when it was first posted & then again just now and have gotten two completely different readings. i imagine my first was similar to what elmaz has written because i remember thinking that i needed to come back to this & reread when i could focus & respond sans knee-jerking.

    i guess the lightbulb i had on second reading is this question of access. that a spoken word poem can include what you've called here "academia & street smarts" but still leave someone out in the cold. does that make sense? i'm on cough medicine & day seven of bronchitis, stay with me.

    i think of how folks (& by folks i really mean folks in the mfa or in the white canon or the general population of the big white castle of academia in the sky) are always trying to figure out how to add some kind of value to spoken word poetry to make it more "intelligent" or "complex on the page." some reason to take it seriously. all of this makes me ralph, because it's bullshit, but i understand what they're saying because i have also been part of the conversation on the other end, of how do we get "poetry" off its high-horse & off the page, to inspire, inform & include the people? [as if academics are not people & urban lit communities are people but not academics, psh]

    i guess what i'm saying is that you can put all the "street smarts" or "academia," all the "distant consideration" or "emotional heat" you want in a page poem or a spoken word poem & you'll still have folks from both sides that feel left out. ostracized, even. that don't feel full-access. & while i really appreciate that both page & stage poetry have their places (as well as the importance of keeping them as their own entities with their own identities & histories), i'm wondering how it is that we can let the poetry be the poetry but join the people.

    ?

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  3. it makes me also consider the function of poetry / storytelling in particular communities as part of the reason folks keep a division between spoken word and page poetry. If one's history & stories were passed down in the telling or creation of pictographs, sand paintings, geography, political gestures & song then poetry occupies a historical, ceremonial and creative space. Especially if other written forms exclude and plagiarize this communities poetic arts. Then a certain distrust of printed word or at least a tension is inherently present when writing for the page. Poetry as history/ceremony/story is a different approach from using the page as an intellectual sparring match. Where a poet is scored on their use of particular imagery or techniques while adhering to a certain form & grammatical structure. As if to write words down or form language into a particular constraint gives it value. So if there is a fundamental division between poetry as survival, history, prayer, art, political stage and poetry as an academic pursuit or intellectual platform then it's value and acceptance depends on who is writing and performing the work. I think form, content and performance don't have to be exclusive categories of one style of working. And where both page poetry and spoken word can intersect are in the emotional intensity, detail specificity and political positioning. True they might present very differently on the page/stage but still contain an urgency, a demand to see, a tension and a unique voice pulling toward a social reality. Splitting work into either or categories is a powerfully maintained tactic both in the Mills MFA and publishing worlds. I wonder also in such rigid division what sort of 'norms' are established for both page and spoken poetry and where neither is willing to explore?

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