Showing posts with label Emily Dickinson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Emily Dickinson. Show all posts

Monday, March 10, 2025

Interview with Poet Joan Larkin about Her Book Old Stranger

Joan Larkin’s sixth book of poems is Old Stranger (Alice James Books 2024). Her previous work includes My Body: New and Selected Poems, winner of the Publishing Triangle's Audre Lorde Award, and Blue Hanuman (Hanging Loose Press). A lifelong teacher, Joan has served on the faculties of Sarah Lawrence College, Smith College, and Brooklyn College, among others. Her honors include Lambda and NEA awards and the Shelley Memorial Award from the Poetry Society of America.

Joan Larkin, poet and author of Old Stranger
Zack Rogow: Many of the poems in your collection Old Stranger are very particular to your own life and memories, and yet they resonate deeply for me. How do you present highly personal experiences so they reach the hearts of readers with different backgrounds and stories from your own? 

Joan Larkin: I’m almost never thinking about a possible reader when I write. Instead, I’m focused on trying to find words for some experience or feeling that won’t let go of me. But thinking about who might be listening does come into the revision process. The reader matters––I don’t want to be obscure,  nor do I want to explain what the images convey. To make a world the reader can enter, I work to describe what I’m seeing with an exactness and vividness that satisfies me as fresh and true, and to make a kind of “mouth music” that gives me a kind of primal pleasure. I feel surprised and lucky when a reader responds with recognition. 

 

You seem to resist making conclusions or tying up loose ends in these poems. Why is it some of the poems come across more as questions than as answers, and who are the questions being asked of?

 

Though I love to end a  poem on a strong image and want it to be a memorable one, my choice not to tie up loose ends or to provide an answer is deliberate. Sometimes I go through several drafts before seeing that I can cut a final line or lines that state something I’ve already physicalized in the poem. The poem can’t be an essay. I want to make a world that goes on spinning.


The language in Old Stranger is precise and crisp, with no wasted verbiage. You also create startling combinations of words, such as “red milk,” or “well of onions her bread signature.” Do you think the texture of your writing has changed in this book, and if so, what was the progression for you to the style in this new collection?

 

I do think that the texture of my writing has changed in this book. Less chatting. More elliptical leaps. I’m less concerned with whether a line makes sense (though I do want to make sense!) than that it be alive. Ezra Pound’s “Deliver it alive” is still the test.

 

I didn’t get there alone. One example of what changed over more than a decade of conversation with a few trusted poets: I’d written a long poem about 17th century Baroque painter Artemesia Gentileschi, line after line filled with details from my research into her life. After a long silence, my friend Jean Valentine pointed to six lines that focused on a single painting and said, “This is the heart of the poem.” Dubious, I asked, “But is it enough?” Her reply, “It is, for me,” changed the way I saw what mattered most in the poem and in many others over the years since.


A number of the poems in Old Stranger are ekphrastic, meaning they’re inspired by a particular work of art. Those include six short poems on paintings by the German artist Paula Modersohn Becker, the woman Rainer Maria Rilke addressed so personally in his major poem “Requiem for a Friend.” What is it about a particular work of art that provokes a poem for you?

 

Music and visual art––made things––have engaged and sustained me from early on. My two brief long-ago marriages were to painters, and I’ve fallen in blind love with singers and other artists, my attachment in part the result of mistaking the maker for the making-ness. Turpentine fumes and the squeak of a bow still attract me like nothing else. I’m drawn to what can I learn from the artist’s process and skill, vision and commitment, and what it can touch in me.

 

The Paula Modersohn-Becker self-portrait I chose for the cover of Old Stranger looked to me as if her face were a whitish mask she was holding up, both covering and revealing the face underneath––suggesting the play between her art and interior life. I saw the beaded necklace as the sole marker of femaleness. The expression of mouth, eyes, and hand spoke of a vivid consciousness I wanted to know more about. Modersohn-Becker painted it in the first decade of the 20th century, long before I attended literature classes in which work by women poets was absent. The college library’s sole book about Emily Dickinson was part of the American Men of Letters series. But Modersohn-Becker, like Dickinson, knew what she was: “wood, with a gift for burning” (Adrienne Rich’s self-image in her 1970s poem “Song”). Modersohn-Becker produced strong, original work before her early death from childbirth. Her cut-short artist’s life, as well as what I saw in a revelatory gallery exhibit, drew me to make ekphrastic work based on her paintings.  Similarly, Camille Claudel’s tragic career and Bonnard’s wife’s role as his barely visible model inspired poems of loss and erasure.

 

Some of the poems in Old Stranger strike me as being almost a new genre, poems such as “My Father’s Tie Rack.” Those poems capture a moment of precise observation that takes place at a specific time, but one that echoes down a tunnel of memories into the past. How did you come upon that form, and do you have a way of referring to it or a name for it?

 

I think of “My Father’s Tie Rack” simply as a list poem. But in the process of revising it, I also thought, What if this could be a kind of loose sonnet? Limiting a poem to fourteen lines or imposing some other rule (for example a certain number of strong stresses to the line) helps me work the language to make it more concise and alive. There’s power in limiting one’s options.


 I often don’t know what shape a poem is going to take until some sound pattern begins to recur and a form suggests itself. But with “My Father’s Tie Rack,” I had a clear idea beforehand that I wanted to write a list poem, in this case a list of images and metaphors to evoke neckties I remembered––something extravagant and unusual about them had struck my young eyes, each tie a piece of art. I didn’t know consciously at the beginning that I wanted to convey my father’s complex, rich personality. And I had no idea that I’d end up intuitively swerving toward an image of his death (“the hole”) and the hint of power or even violence contained in the final word, “belts.” In hindsight, I see that the poem is both a portrait and an encounter.


The way this poem took shape is true of others, too, where my unconscious mind was making choices. I love your discerning that a particular observation “echoes down a tunnel of memories into the past,” but in the moment of writing, I typically don’t understand or consciously control the process. The U-turns a draft wants to take often surprise me.

           

In many poems you describe a vivid incident from your earlier years, such as “All at Once.” Are there particular types of experiences that sparked those poems?

 

I’m still thinking about familial and societal expectations of girls and women, of shame and trauma held under pressure at a depth. But though difficult past experiences still ignite poems, my old ways of seeing and representing them have changed as I’ve loosened my hold on my old story lines. “All at Once” was sparked by a memory of what people used to call a shotgun wedding (do we still say that?), followed by a miscarriage in a car on a cross-country journey. What I wanted to do in that poem was to look back without attachment and evoke the physical sensations of that awful moment in the car. I wanted to find language for the life of the body––the house of pleasure and trauma, wounding and healing.

_________________________________
Zack’s new book of poetry, The Kama Sutra for Senior Citizens and Other Poems on Aging. Order in the USA    Order in the UK
Other posts of interest:

How to Get Published

Getting the Most from Your Writing Workshop

How Not to Become a Literary Dropout

Putting Together a Book Manuscript

Working with a Writing Mentor

How to Deliver Your Message

Does the Muse Have a Cell Phone?

Why Write Poetry?

Poetic FormsIntroductionthe Sonnetthe Sestinathe Ghazalthe Tankathe Villanelle

Praise and Lament

How to Be an American Writer

Writers and Collaboration

Types of Closure in Poetry



Sunday, July 7, 2024

Don’t Be the John Cleveland of Your Time

Do you know who John Cleveland was? If you don’t, you’re not alone. John Cleveland (1613–1658) was the most popular poet in the English language in the seventeenth century. His work was so widely read that his collection of poems went through twenty editions in his time—and books were luxury items then. 

John Cleveland
John Cleveland was part of the most acclaimed group of writers of his time, a school called the Metaphysical Poets. Ironically, the Metaphysical Poets were best known for their seduction poems. Think Andrew Marvell’s “To His Coy Mistress.” The Metaphysical Poets were enormously popular in the 1600s in England, but Cleveland’s work is hardly ever read these days. 

What should that tell us about how we should be writing today? Well, it could tell us that just because a poet is wildly popular in the present day, it doesn’t mean that their work will last, or even that it’s good. 

On the other hand, Emily Dickinson wrote about 1800 poems, only ten of which were published in her lifetime. During Emily Dickinson’s own era of the late nineteenth century, her work was known mainly to a small circle of her literati friends in the Northeast of the United States. Today her work is internationally read, appreciated, and discussed. So what should that tell us? Again, often a writer’s fame in their own lifetime is not a measure of the quality of their work. Emily Dickinson’s writing was so daring in its style and subject matter that she didn’t publish most of it while she was alive. Her work has endured precisely because it had qualities that made it difficult to put into print in her day. 

Emily Dickinson (1830–1886)
I take these two contrasting trajectories for a writer’s reputation as a cautionary tale. If your work is in lock step with the literary fashions of your day, that may make your writing popular for a limited time. It’s no guarantee that your work will endure, however. To my mind, the writing that lasts surprises us in its style and content, and it also resonates with the deepest human impulses, emotions, and situations—not with literary fads. 

There are other reasons why Cleveland fell out of favor, and Dickinson has staying power. Cleveland’s style feels outmoded today since he often wrote in heroic couplets (ten-syllable, clinkety-clankety verses that predictably rhyme AABBCC, etc.). He was also an avid supporter of the monarch Charles I, who was beheaded in a revolution because of his insistence on the divine right of kings, so Cleveland was on the losing side of history as well. Dickinson, on the other hand, was an independent and bold woman long before that was looked upon favorably, she was an iconoclast in her religious beliefs, and she invented her own style that still feels modern, using slant rhyme and unexpected diction. Writers who are ahead of their time in their technique and ideas also stand a better chance of being read in the long run.  

I don’t mean to suggest, though, that John Cleveland’s poetry is completely unworthy of readers. He’s a minor writer, to my mind, but I do enjoy a couple of his poems. I particularly like “Fuscara, or the Bee Errant,” where a bee sensually explores the exposed arms of the speaker’s beloved. When the bee alights on

The mystic figures of her hand,
He tipples palmistry and dines
On all her fortune-telling lines. 
_________________________________
Zack’s new book of poetry, The Kama Sutra for Senior Citizens and Other Poems on Aging. Order in the USA    Order in the UK
Other posts of interest:

How to Get Published

Getting the Most from Your Writing Workshop

How Not to Become a Literary Dropout

Putting Together a Book Manuscript

Working with a Writing Mentor

How to Deliver Your Message

Does the Muse Have a Cell Phone?

Why Write Poetry?

Poetic FormsIntroductionthe Sonnetthe Sestinathe Ghazalthe Tankathe Villanelle

Praise and Lament

How to Be an American Writer

Writers and Collaboration

Types of Closure in Poetry

Sunday, January 7, 2024

Contemporary Poetry in China: An Interview with Ma Yongbo

This post is an interview with Ma Yongbo, a Chinese poet, translator, editor, and scholar. Ma has authored or translated more than 70 books. He is a professor in the Faculty of Arts and Literature at Nanjing University. His translations from English include works by John Ashbery, Emily Dickinson, May Sarton, Walt Whitman, William Carlos Williams, and others.

Poet Ma Yongbo

Zack Rogow: I understand there are a great many poets in China. Why is writing poetry so popular there?

Ma Yongbo: Before the internet became popular in China around 1999, poetry was considered an art for a select few. With the freedom of the internet for writing and publishing, the population of poets exploded. People of all ages and backgrounds delved into poetry, turning it into a mass movement with diverse voices.

 

In 2021, the China Internet Network Information Center (CNNIC) released a report showing that China had over 500 million people engaged in online literature. Poets transitioned from penning verses in study chambers to composing on computers, smartphones, and other mobile devices. Poetry has become ubiquitous, from websites, forums, blogs, and microblogs to social media platforms like WeChat, Weibo, MeiPian, and Little Red Book.

 

The Chinese Poetry Network publishes 10,000 poems monthly, with 170,000 registered poets. The platform has reached 500,000 visits per day, and an average of 3,000 poems are submitted each day.

 

On WeChat, almost every poet has their own public account, essentially editing their own online magazine. Every aspect of life can be turned into poetry. An extreme example is "Enter Key" poetry, randomly breaking up prose into lines of poetry. It is challenging to determine what is and isn't poetry.

 

Or take the website Xiaohongshu (https://www.xiaohongshu.com/explore?m_source=pinpai). There are over two million poetry posts on this platform, contributed by nearly 900,000 creators. Over 25 million people read poetry-related content on that platform each week.

 

Traditional print publications also play a significant role, with over 50,000 poems published annually in officially circulated newspapers and magazines, more than in The Complete Poems of the Tang Dynasty. There are more than 250 publicly circulated literary journals, and it's challenging to count the number of newspapers featuring poems.

 

Each year, the number of poetry collections published by national mainstream publishers exceeds 1,200 books, more than the number published during the entire period of modern Chinese literature before 1949.

 

There are also unofficial, avant-garde networks of Chinese poetry, including self-published works read within a literary circle. Especially in the pre-internet era, these publications thrived as the primary means for exchanging the work of various literary movements and groups. While the number of self-published journals has decreased with the convenience of online platforms, there are still uncountable publications of this type. About 10,000 self-published journals have appeared since 1978, and the number of self-published poetry collections exceeds 10,000.

 

Poetry events are frequent nationwide, with an average of no less than three events daily, including seminars, readings, sharing sessions, and launches, varying in form, scale, audience, and levels of sophistication.


Poetry reading in China
There are a plethora of poetry awards, with prizes named after famous authors and poets such as Lu Xun, Guo Moruo, Xu Zhimo, Wen Yiduo, Bian Zhilin, Chang Yao, Ai Qing, and Haizi, to name a few. The poetry scene is highly active, but in essence, it’s thriving without flourishing. The quality of poetry has sharply declined, with a multitude of pseudo-poetry and amateurish poetry inundating the internet, overshadowing poetry written in a more professional vein.

The work that has garnered widespread attention in recent years is poetry related to hot topics. Labels like “Migrant Worker Poet,” “Express Delivery Poet,” and “Suicide Poet” are constantly emerging, attracting the majority of readers and making genuine poets feel isolated. Online writers often express dissatisfaction with the existing social order. Most poets prefer short and quick lines and poems, catering to online platforms. Many poets focus on expressing themselves without delving into the artistic aspects of poetry, at most borrowing some techniques from classical poetry. They show little interest in the latest developments in Chinese and world poetry, resulting in a false “authenticity” that I find amateurish. Avant-garde and experimental poetry has severely shrunk, and no one is paying attention.

 

Q. With so many published poets, how do you and other poets in China decide which poets to read, review, and talk about?

 

As Borges said, poetry is always for the “infinite few.” Poetry that gains public attention because of social phenomena, often linked to current events, may not endure. Which poets enter our field of vision is sometimes accidental and sometimes a matter of “fate.” I often read not the award-winning or popular poets, but rather those who are quietly unknown or from the lower strata of society. Due to limited energy, I naturally pay more attention to the poems of friends—I’m familiar with their work. I’m particularly interested in writing styles and tendencies different than mine.

 

Q. Are there particular themes or topics that contemporary poets in China write about?

 

Classical poetry mainly focused on universal themes such as pastoral scenes, homesickness, farewells, the sorrows of spring and autumn, and border defense. Contemporary Chinese free verse has inherited these themes, but places greater emphasis on individual experiences and reflections on the collective destiny of humanity. It pays more attention to personal emotions, in contrast to T.S. Eliot’s depersonalization.

 

Classical Chinese poetry is a product of agrarian civilization, while current vernacular poetry is a product of modernity. Industrial themes and urban imagery are key subjects for modern poetry. The barren state of modern civilizations in both the East and the West is also something contemporary Chinese poetry has to confront, an aspect absent in classical poetry. In the Tang and Song dynasties, humans and nature coexisted harmoniously, but now we humans have become the adversaries of nature.

 

Chinese poetry has always focused on reality, following the tradition of Du Fu. Contemporary Chinese poetry is no longer a deciphering of political slogans, nor is it an appendage to propaganda. It has genuinely entered the unique inner world of the poet, expressing the poet's personal thoughts and feelings.

 

What is more crucial is that Chinese poetry has shifted its emphasis from merely conveying content to valuing language itself. For instance, poets in the past often used the sunflower as a symbol of power worship. Nowadays, poets hope to restore the sunflower to being the sunflower itself. This change is related to the influence of phenomenology of Martin Heidegger and Edmund Husserl.

 

Another significant development since the 1990s is “themeless” poetry. Contemporary Chinese poetry has freed itself from "thematic writing.” From the traditional expression of emotions to the expression of experiences inspired by Rainer Maria Rilke and Eliot, and then to the expression of the “experience of experience” inspired by Ashbery, contemporary Chinese poetry has shown a trend toward “themelessness.” Poetry now creates concrete details, novelistic narratives, and dramatic situations and scenes. It even explores the generative process of poetry itself.

 

Q. Do all the poets write in Mandarin Chinese, or do some write in local dialects, such as Cantonese?

 

Most poets write in standard Chinese (Mandarin), with occasional influences from regional dialects. Poets who use dialects are rare and mostly limited to ethnic minorities. I haven't come across poets exclusively using Cantonese, as most Chinese people use Mandarin, and few understand Cantonese. Dialects are more closely associated with other forms of artistic expressions such as films, folk songs, and dance, where there might be readings of poetry in dialects. Even if the audience doesn't understand, it adds an artistic element.

 

Many ethnic languages are rapidly disappearing, and poetry might be an effective way to preserve them. The efforts of Native American poets in the United States, for example, are valuable in this regard. Similarly, African American poetry often has connections to jazz, creating significant cultural value.

 

Q. How does a writer get published in a literary magazine in China?

 

Currently, the circulation of official literary magazines has declined sharply, with some provincial publications printing only a few hundred copies, and they lack significant influence. Few people actually read the official journals. People generally just casually flip through the poems of friends they know. Poets don’t pay much attention to each other; they often form small circles, reading and even praising each other.

 

Magazines now mostly accept online submissions. However, due to the sheer number of people writing poetry, possibly millions, editorial inboxes are flooded. With limited staff, editors can't possibly go through all the submissions. To get published, you often need to submit directly to an editor you know. In China, getting published is not about quality; it's about interpersonal relationships. That’s a serious and troublesome issue.

 

Poets don’t pay much attention to official magazines now because publishing in social media and non-official publications serves the same purpose and reaches a broader audience. Poets value non-official colleagues’ publications more because these are self-funded, and organizers are more serious about selecting works. Good poetry is found among the people. Due to political reasons, publication principles, and editorial aesthetics, it's difficult for good poems to be published in official journals. Poets who don’t enter the editors’ social circles have practically no chance to publish; they can only communicate on social media platforms.

 

Editors make necessary modifications to manuscripts, mainly regarding political concerns. Experimental and avant-garde poetry have no space in China and can only survive at the grassroots. Poems criticizing reality have little chance of being published, and satirical poetry as a genre is extinct in China. Poems published officially are generally safe and uncontroversial.

 

Renowned poets and emerging poets may get opportunities to publish their work. How these opportunities arise remains a mystery. Chinese society relies heavily on personal connections; without them, progress is challenging. Success based solely on the quality of one's work is extremely rare and nearly impossible.

 

Q. How does a writer get a book of poetry published in China? How many copies do most poetry books sell in China?

 

Publishing a poetry collection is a task more challenging than reaching the heavens. Only a handful of popular poets receive remuneration from publishing houses and get their works published. How they attain their popularity is a mystery. Another way to publish a poetry collection is by being a poet sponsored by various levels of writers' associations.

 

In contemporary China, there are essentially two types of poets who have the chance to publish collections. One is the popular poet relying on market appeal, and the other is the poet favored by the authorities, relying on official financial support. The poets caught in between face a dilemma. Because they delve into the depths of the human spirit, their work is unlikely to have a large readership.

 

There's another category of poets who can publish collections: wealthy poets who can afford to buy an ISBN (International Standard Book Number). For a book with 200,000 characters, the author needs to pay the publisher 100,000 RMB. Genuine poets are often financially strained, making it difficult for them to come up with that kind of money. It is normal for poets to be poor because, as Robert Bly said, it's good to be poor and listen to the sound of the wind.

 

China currently lacks a poet who is universally recognized. If there is one, it might be Bei Dao.


Poet Bei Dao
Some poets gain fame merely because they have more public exposure opportunities; they align themselves with power and capital. The greatest poets are currently underground. Very few readers are aware of their existence. They cannot be popular or widely known, and they have minimal opportunities for publication. Fortunately, with social media and private publication, good poetry still has a chance to be read.

 Most poets can only afford to self-publish their collections, limiting them to private circulation, such as giving copies to friends or donating to libraries. Very few poetry collections make it to bookstores, and even fewer enter major online retailers like Dangdang and JD. Generally, poetry collections have few buyers, with a few hundred copies being a significant breakthrough. If a published collection can sell two to three thousand copies, the publishing house can break even. My collection, Travels in Words, published by Huacheng Press, had two printings and sold more than eight thousand copies, rare among serious poets.

 

Q. Are poetry books reviewed in other publications, such as newspapers or poetry magazines?

 

In academic journals and literary publications, you find reviews, and some newspapers’ book review columns also review poetry. However, poetry remains the most marginalized genre in the literary world. In universities, whether in Chinese or foreign language departments, scholars researching poetry are on the fringe, receiving little attention. Publishing research papers on poetry is challenging. University faculty members seeking promotions and fulfilling so-called research workloads need to publish papers in “high-level” journals. Consequently, the number of university professors researching poetry is decreasing; there are only a few hundred in the entire country.

 

Q. Are many international poets published in China? Who are the most popular international poets?

 

Translated poetry collections are relatively easier to publish than original poetry in Chinese, although it is still challenging for marketing reasons. There is an old saying in China, “A visiting monk can recite the scriptures well,” meaning there is curiosity about the exotic. In recent years, quite a few collections of work by foreign poets have appeared in China, especially Nobel Prize winners, and publishers vie for their works. Additionally, winners of prestigious awards such as the U.S. National Book Award, the Critics’ Circle Prize, and the Pulitzer Prize may also find opportunities in China. Poets who have previously received acclaim in Chinese, known for various reasons, have an easier time getting translated and published. Other poets face difficulties publishing collections, even if their poetic quality surpasses that of Nobel laureates and other awardees. This is primarily for marketing reasons.

 

My interest in American poetry began during my university English classes. I translated several poems by African American poets and received praise from my teacher. In the early 1990s, I began systematically translating contemporary American poetry, especially postmodern poetry. I compared American poetry with Chinese poetry, hoping to find commonalities and differences. I believed that Chinese poetry and American poetry are mirrors reflecting each other. Unresolved poetic issues in Chinese poetry may find solutions in American poetry, similar to how Ezra Pound found inspiration from classical Chinese poetry.

 

I spent thirty years introducing John Ashbery to China, and his influence has been significant, possibly making him the most famous American poet in China over the past two decades. Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton have also gained substantial recognition in Chinese. Rilke had a considerable reputation in the 1990s, but he is rarely mentioned now.

 

Chinese readers prefer poets like Tagore, perhaps the most popular in Chinese. Readers of avant-garde and experimental poetry are few, but personally I believe these writers are more valuable. They allow Chinese poets to understand trends and developments in world poetry. Without these reference points, Chinese poetry lacks nourishment. Since we have already severed ties with classical poetry, Chinese poetry is still growing under the influence of international poetry. It has been challenging to break free from this influence, and Chinese writing has struggled to establish its own poetics.

 

With contemporary Chinese poets, we often strongly sense the influence of international writers. For example, the impact of confessional poetry on women’s writing, the influence of Russian Silver Age poetry, and Auden's influence on academic poetry are easily recognizable. It will take a long time for Chinese poetry to truly find its own path with national characteristics and build a native poetics free from European traditional influence, the way William Carlos Williams did in North America,

  

Q. Who are the most widely read English-language poets in China? Are poetry readers in China aware of the very diverse range of writers here in the United States?

 

The most well-known English-language poets are still Byron and Shelley, regardless of how many English poets have been introduced in recent years, such as Eliot and Pound. This is related to the deficiencies in aesthetic education, as the textbooks in middle school still follow the old curricula. Unfortunately, Whitman is less popular than Byron and Shelley,.

 

Professional poets are well aware of the diversity of American poetry. They are familiar with various schools of contemporary American poetry, such as confessional poetry, the New York School, the New Surrealism, Deep Image, the Black Mountain School, the Beat Generation, etc. However, ordinary readers are not likely to be familiar with these, and at most, they may know Whitman and Dickinson, or perhaps Frost. Less accessible poets are rarely explored, for example, Wallace Stevens.

 

International poets hoping to publish poetry collections in Chinese face enormous challenges. Especially in recent years, if a book doesn't sell more than three thousand copies, publishers incur losses, and they might refuse to publish, even if the intrinsic value of the poet's work is high. There are often unclear reasons behind the emergence of translated poetry collections— it's hit-or-miss. Authoritative translators may have some chance of convincing editors to take the risk of publishing a particular international poet's collection.

 

In China, poetry seems to have no hope or future and can only serve as a source of self-entertainment. The description of China as a "poetic nation" is far from the truth; in fact, the Chinese people are now overly pragmatic, completely losing the spiritual pursuits seen in the Tang and Song dynasties. As a result, poetry remains a niche and marginal art form. Despite the influence of the internet, leading to millions of people engaging in text-based writing, poetry is still the pursuit of a minority. Other media are more popular, allowing poetry to become the lonely guardian of language and the soul—an isolated watchman—and this is perfectly normal and a good thing.


_________________________________
Zack’s new book of poetry, The Kama Sutra for Senior Citizens and Other Poems on Aging. Order in the USA    Order in the UK
Other posts of interest:

How to Get Published

Getting the Most from Your Writing Workshop

How Not to Become a Literary Dropout

Putting Together a Book Manuscript

Working with a Writing Mentor

How to Deliver Your Message

Does the Muse Have a Cell Phone?

Why Write Poetry?

Poetic FormsIntroductionthe Sonnetthe Sestinathe Ghazalthe Tankathe Villanelle

Praise and Lament

How to Be an American Writer

Writers and Collaboration

Types of Closure in Poetry