Monday, August 27, 2007

Poetry Syllabus

Decided to radicalize my approach to the Poetry Workshop. My perception is that poetry is mired where it is, that poetry invites questions about its relevance, because it regards society from the middle of society, prizes what society prizes, wants the rewards that society gives. I thought we might try it this time from a little outside. I thought we might turn ourselves into poets before we attempted--or at least while we attempting--the work of poetry


Poetry Workshop Syllabus, Autumn, 2007

I’ve made a mistake in the past by assuming that poetry is, for this century, the record--albeit in heightened expression-- of everyday life. I bought, if only partially, into the dogma that the materials of poetry are unavoidably mundane, and that the inspired, the particular, the sacred are somehow effete or fantastical or against the solid American grain. This semester I am going to try an experiment, with you as my partners and co-conspirators. The experiment is to see if perhaps Shelley and Keats and Milton and Blake and Whitman and Yeats were right that poetry is not merely heightened craft, but heightened perception as well, even a finer tone in the living of life. I am going to ask you not only to write poetry, but to live like poets. We will talk in class about what that could possibly mean. There are a few things I am sure of at the outset:
1) I am going to ask you not to watch television.
2) I am going to ask you not to read the Citizen-Times, or any publication which aims primarily at excitable 7th graders.
3) I am going to ask you to choose a poet from before 1950 as your guide and mentor. Any language, any nationality. Read him. Know him. Understand what he meant poetry to be.
4) If drugs or alcohol or cigarettes are a problem to you, if you think about them more than a few minutes a day, I’m going to ask you to give them up. You cannot serve two masters. Well, maybe two, but more than that gets iffy.
5) I am going to ask you to impose on yourself a discipline. Milton said an epic poet must live simply and drink water out of a wooden bowl. Yeats recommended fly fishing. But reach into your soul and see what you need, what you are capable of, and choose a discipline you can be loyal to. Examples? Become a vegetarian. Do not eat after 3 PM. Meditate nightly. Fast two days a week. Give up drugs and alcohol. Run three miles a day No Matter What. Become the best friend of the kid in the hall whom you really, really hate. Walk the streets of Asheville of a night and do not come home until you’ve done a good deed. Learn every plant or tree you encounter in the Botanical Garden, and not only the ones with signs on them. Learn yoga REALLY. Learn how to give your devotion to Shiva (Jesus, Buddha, Ahura-Mazda, the Great Mother) and do it. The discipline you choose can be anything. It can be arbitrary. It can relate intimately to your history and life goals. You may share your discipline with anybody, but you MUST share it with your workshop partner (see below) so you can keep each other on the straight and narrow.

Now, for the actual class:

A) I don’t want to see anything you did before this semester. We’re starting new.
B) You will keep a journal (you probably already do) in which you consciously and conscientiously record the experiences and observations out of which you will make your poems. You may also choose to record the unfolding (or the failure to unfold) of your chosen discipline.
C) You will choose a workshop partner, who will be your critic, confessor, mentor, friend, sidekick, model through this semester. Each week you will meet with your partner BEFORE class and critique each other’s work for that week. You will then revise the poem according to the recommendations made by your partner and the revelations achieved by yourself during the process. On Monday afternoon, you will hand the class:
i) the first draft of the poem, the one you gave your partner to look at,
ii) the written version of your partner’s critiques and recommendations
iii) your revised draft.

The full class will then critique the revised draft, giving you a second critique of your poem.

iv) Judging by the class’s reaction, you may choose either to bring the same poem to your partner and then to the workshop the next week for further revision, or to present a new one, but each time your offering must go through the same process.

Meetings with your partner are part of the process. Don’t shortchange yourself. Don’t meet five minutes before class time. USE him or her, and be willing to be used in return. You are wise. Give your partner the benefit of that wisdom. You don’t have to talk only about poetry. If you talk about other things worth sharing, don’t hesitate to share it with the rest of the class, too.

v) Remember that “revision” means TO SEE AGAIN. Don’t tinker. Use a flame-thrower, a battle axe, if you need to. A scalpel, a single hair, if you need to.

vi) Go to as many poetry readings as you can. Talk them over with your partner. Dissect them in your journal.


GRADES will be based on 1) Your loyalty and adherence to the rubric above, 2) How good your poems are, 3) Attendance and class participation.

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