I read an entry on MrEspy’s blog where he asked “How does one introduce oneself [to] or acclimate oneself with poetry? Also, how does one teach their children this lost art form?” to which one of his blogo-riffic buddies posted the response of his poetry professor. Her wisdom was thus expressed: “I think the first step to acclimating yourself to poetry is to become familiar with the poetic devices employed, which can seem boring, but when understood can make poetry much more intriguing.”

For your reading pleasure I will now proceed to (savagely) critique said opinion with my characteristic tact (or rather irreverence for institutional credentials like PhDs and those who hold them).

The recommendation of the professor represents the archetypal approach of the institutionalized psyche. To her, poetry is a discipline to be studied and dissected, categorized and graded. In her world, syllables are meticulously counted and an increasingly complex arcane technical vocabulary must be studied to approach poetry with sophistication. The world of poetry is the world of books, the literary dungeon of an archaic tradition kept alive almost exclusively in the halls of universities. All this represents a seething subtext of power, control and legitimacy. These “scholars” are the guardians of the Western tradition, the ones who determine what is or is not “great poetry,” the ones who determine what should be included in the canon of Western literature. They edit anthologies and divide them into chapters arranged in various contrivances; all of them inappropriate. The scholarly study of poetry can tell us much about its people but it would be too presumptuous to speak authoritatively on poetry itself. It belongs, after all, in the realm of the commons, a popular art, dare I say, a democratic one.

(Speaking of presumptuousness, the attentive reader will realize that much of the preceding paragraph was extremely presumptuous of this particular professor, who I will admit I know very little about, as well as the whole body of professional scholars of literature. Am I at all concerned about this seemingly hypocritical analysis? I am concerned with that just about as much as I am with the appropriateness this atrocious paragraph entirely enclosed, rather disgracefully, within parenthesis in violation of every principle of writing I can think of. Which is to say, I am not very concerned at all.)

So how can we understand the true nature of poetry? Is it what it has become in the modern West, as our professor friend understands it? If poetry’s historic role is fully grasped one would discover that it is an organic art form that flourishes in a community setting. It is emotional, personal, cultural and, at least for the vast majority of its practitioners; still, largely an oral tradition. Much of poetry is also about performance and thus expression is also tied to the manner of the author’s recitation. Every word and verse is given life through vivid inflections, tones and even elocution.

In order to demonstrate how this dynamic operates one can contemplate a play. Surely no one believes that plays should be read. Rather they are performed and thus infused with emotion, passion and life (at least if the actors are good). Consider a Shakespearean play in its archaic English. The language is notoriously difficult to penetrate for the untrained modern reader. But the modern spectator can still extract a great deal of meaning simply by observing the characters’ gestures, facial expressions and tone of voice. This also holds true for poetry. For example, ancient Greek schoolboys would recite and listen to the recitation of poetry with great enthusiasm. These boys, who were memorizing and studying Homer, did not understand the meanings of many verses due to the difficult language. Yet that did not prevent them from deeply appreciating these epics because the manner of their recitation evoked such powerful feelings. It can be imagined that the poems were delivered quite eloquently with dramatic gesticulations and sophisticated “voice acting.” Studying this poetry was also, more than an academic exercise. The poems they studied were part of the living cultural heritage of the Greeks and this literature embodied the deepest held values and greatest ideals of that society. These epic poems were part of the canon of a shared mythical history that could be referenced to evoke powerful emotions or invoke the example of heroes. They could even be quoted for as banal a reason as making a joke.

Throughout history and to the present day amongst certain traditional cultures, poetry has played a major, sometimes crucial, societal role. It is the medium through which news is shared, social norms are reinforced, the arrogant are humbled and even how disputes are resolved. The Inuit, for example, participate in drum duels where two parties settle their quarrel by insulting each other in verse to the accompaniment of drums. The audience and their reactions to the poetry decide the matter in favor of the more eloquent of the adversaries. This is not exactly justice but it is an illustration of the power and role poetry can take. One can imagine that eloquence in such a society would surely lead to great social advancement.

Once poetry is understood to have a social and thus a necessarily oral dimension we can more critically examine our honorable professor’s advice. Is the first step to acclimating oneself to poetry the study of its mechanics and poetic devices? Though I agree that doing so will lead one to have a more sophisticated understanding of crafting a poem it is certainly not the “first step” unless your goal is to forever alienate a child from poetry. Regarding directly teaching poetry to children it was wise of the questioner to first begin with himself. Indeed, the first step is to immerse oneself in poetry. But poetry must become a living tradition for it to thrive in any meaningful way. This means joining a poetic community or creating a poetic culture in your home or amongst a circle of like-minded friends. You certainly cannot transmit anything to your children if you do not yourself possess it.

The actual teaching of poetry to children is both possible and impossible depending on what you mean by teach. In my experience, poetry is a powerful tool for improving children’s literacy, vocabulary and pronunciation. But this is mainly through memorization of great poetry. Teaching children to write poetry is too much of a contrived exercise. The ancient Greeks believed that the capacity to write eloquent poetry could not be taught, rather, it was direct inspiration from the Muses that produced moving verse. The ancient Arabs believed that eloquence came from those possessed by jinn (otherworldly spirits). Though I would disagree with our ancestors to an extent, it is instructive to note that the same faculties that produce eloquent oratory or prose do not necessarily correspond with those that produce great poetry and the understanding of the ancients reflects this wisdom.

So what does the enthusiastic parent do? It is simply a matter of sharing their own immersion into poetic culture with their children. As they grow older, attending poetry recitals, hearing their family, neighbors, friends and role-models gushing poetry, they will naturally want to gain acceptance and renown in this community by composing their own poetry and sharing it. Children are very imitative creatures and all they need is a model to get them started. Keep in mind that human activities should always be useful, even if only subtly. For example, humor serves to entertain, bind people together in camaraderie, communicate criticism in a disarming way and even shame people into abiding by various social conventions. The more meaningful poetry becomes for a particular community the more enthusiastically one’s child will participate in it. From this engagement in poetry there will be a more natural progression from amateur dabbling to more dedicated study into the mechanics and devices employed by master poets. However, with sufficient exposure to quality poetry, most of what a novice would learn would simply be the names of things that she is already familiar with. This represents an advantage because the capacity to put a name to something is the first step towards controlling one’s own poetry and being able to imitate, experiment, innovate and manipulate personal style and expression.

Most importantly, the child’s attachment to poetry will grow naturally and out of genuine interest. But if the child disappointingly shows little or no interest in eloquent verse then they are free from benevolent parental authoritarianism which too often leads to the opposite of what was intended.

So is the first step towards appreciating poetry to learn poetic devices? I don’t know. I never got a PhD in poetry and it would be presumptuous of me to even try and answer.

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