To find the last words for the Canadian-American exchange we've been having this week, I quote Stephanie Bolster, the intrepid first editor of The Best Canadian Poetry in English 2008.
Though a reader of the Best American annuals, I’ve always balked at “best.” I don’t have the same “best” from year to year, perhaps not even from morning to night within a single day. As I read 2008’s possible contenders – each on several occasions, to increase a poem’s chances of striking me in a receptive moment – what was I looking for?
First: good writing. Awkward or rote syntax; familiar expressions, images, and locutions; or random lineation, ruled a poem out. A meaningfully rebellious and distinctive syntax or a deliberately dissonant music often ruled it in.
Second: depth and challenge, be that emotional or intellectual. If additional readings failed to yield new insights and appreciations, but, rather, dulled the flash I’d sensed the first time around, the poem lost its post-it note.
Finally, and inseparably from the first two criteria: an interesting, even strange sensibility or imagination. . . . I sought poems that excited and surprised me, that felt (boldly or quietly) necessary, often urgent. I sought poems serious and poems frivolous (though seriously frivolous). . . . I was without doubt a tougher critic than if I’d been reading fewer poems, but asking myself whether I could confidently put my name behind a particular choice forced me to be discerning.
First: good writing. Awkward or rote syntax; familiar expressions, images, and locutions; or random lineation, ruled a poem out. A meaningfully rebellious and distinctive syntax or a deliberately dissonant music often ruled it in.
Second: depth and challenge, be that emotional or intellectual. If additional readings failed to yield new insights and appreciations, but, rather, dulled the flash I’d sensed the first time around, the poem lost its post-it note.
Finally, and inseparably from the first two criteria: an interesting, even strange sensibility or imagination. . . . I sought poems that excited and surprised me, that felt (boldly or quietly) necessary, often urgent. I sought poems serious and poems frivolous (though seriously frivolous). . . . I was without doubt a tougher critic than if I’d been reading fewer poems, but asking myself whether I could confidently put my name behind a particular choice forced me to be discerning.
In the end, the best is what you feel you can put your own name to -- that's what Stephanie Bolster did, and I am grateful.
It's been a joy to write this blog, to talk to all of you--and, importantly for me, to listen. Many thanks to Stacey Harwood who added the photos to these posts, especially David Hockney's swimming pool and Mrs. Delany. Now I'm going to take a nice dive back into the 18th century.
Warmest wishes,
Molly
Thank you Molly for a most wonderful week of posts. You have been so generous. I hope we keep this discussion and exchange going. I've certainly learned a lot and am happy to be introduced to so many new and wonderful poets. I'm going to create a "Canada" category so your and other relevant posts will be easy to find in one place. Stay tuned . . .
Posted by: Stacey | January 31, 2009 at 03:55 PM
Thanks from me too, Molly, for the bordercross banter. We'll have to do a _Jailbreaks_ reading in NYC one of these days. I've been to NY state, but that was back in my days as a smalltime cross-border smuggler of cheap contraband. Never been to the Big Apple. Here's to the free exchange of art and ideas.
Cheers,
Zach
Posted by: Zach Wells | January 31, 2009 at 11:07 PM
For anyone still following this thread, Jason Guriel has posted a response to another BCP poem, over at Harriet:
http://poetryfoundation.org/harriet/2009/01/lost_and_found_a_reading_of_a.html
Posted by: Zach Wells | February 01, 2009 at 06:29 PM