My case for poetry: How to approach a poem and why you should read more poetry.

Ask me anything.

In response to my previous newsletter, Akshata wrote to me,

“Hey Samiksha,

Akshata here. I loved the last poem. It touched my heart and I will carry it with me.

These days, I read a poem everyday. Earlier, I used to find it tough. Poems used to not make sense to me. They seemed like codes that are too tough to crack. But now I’ve given up on on the idea of “cracking” them. I let the words and rhythms do their magic. Reading poetry has become a much more rewarding experience for me. But I think I still have a lot of scope for improving my poetry reading skills.

I have two questions for you.

1. Do you think reading poetry involves a certain skill set that people need to know to appreciate it fully? Or can anyone who knows a language appreciate the poetry composed in that language?

2. How do you generally approach a poem?”

First of all, I love how you’ve chosen to stick to reading poetry and have started enjoying it more and more over time. I want to let you know that I too have thought of the same questions when I was younger, so I’m happy to be answering them today. I hope you, and our community will find this perspective interesting. I’m writing this on December 8, but when this newsletter is published, I will open the chat (I mean I’ll try, I’m still not sure how to do it) so that everyone in our lovely little community can join in on the conversation. :)

And look, I’ve made myself a warm cup of hard black coffee to answer your question.

Akshata, if I were to simplify, the answer to the first question is both yes and no.

But first, the Yes.

Yes, because like every normal (Indian) person ever, I too found poetry tedious at school and even went a step ahead and absolutely dreaded the paper. I didn’t enjoy Keats, Shelley or even Wordsworth, didn’t want to read about Grecian urns, or the West Wind or Daffodils - none of it made enough sense, and I simply couldn’t see the point! Back at the time, I didn’t even know what a ‘Grecian urn’ was, and I didn’t care to know either (now I know), I didn’t like fancy language and soo many references to other literature etc. etc. Through it all, I kept thinking, “What do I care?!” because none of the poems mattered to me…until I read Sylvia Plath’s ‘Daddy’ that like other poems, did use multiple references to Nazis or the World Wars but despite all of that, something in my head switched on - here was a person who wrote honestly and without language that was overtly fancy and convoluted. This poem made sense to me. I felt I understood it. I cared to look up references I didn’t understand. I enjoyed it. But then I forgot about it and moved on with life.

It wasn’t until I started writing poetry that I started to read it (yeah some of us are weird like that). I read more widely than before and surprisingly (shockingly) came across poems that made much more sense. They talked about real things like heartbreaks and not Grecian urns (ooof!). They were written in a manner that I understood. Something sparkled in my brain again. I thought of Plath’s Daddy, and also went back to read other poems I had read back in school. Now they made a little bit more sense to me. I understood them better. Sometimes, I looked up references. Maybe I found new elements to enjoy in them, that I hadn’t before, and I might have also admired the lines, “Oh, lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud! / I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!”

This is to say, no, if I understand English, it does not necessarily mean I will necessarily understand every poem written in English at every point in time, and yet it does not mean that my knowledge of a language won’t help me in understanding a particular use of that language, i.e., that poem. (How else would I read any poem at all?) What I’m trying to say is that poetry is a use a of language, and every poem is a particular use of language, which is why you understand some poems easily, while others might not make sense and bore you! (Another reason is, it’s simply a matter of taste.) Every poem requires you to come to an understanding, a negotiation between the language in which the poem is written, and the use of that language (the poem). But that is not all you need to understand or appreciate a poem - in some cases, you might also need know elements like rhythm, tone, structure, context etc. to understand or enjoy it.

So yes, a certain set of skills is required to understand poetry, but any language in itself is a set of skills too - the primary one (you can’t simply read a poem off the page that isn’t in your language and understand it). Yet, while reading poetry you must not consider poetry in general, as a genre you do not understand because of its other elements, (which I believe, is a mistake we make because we are taught there are rules for poetry and forms and rhythms and what not) because this creates a mental block in your mind and makes you believe a generalization, “Oh, I do not understand poetry.” “Poetry is not for me.” “I haven’t learnt poetry, so I do not understand it” and makes you not approach a poem when you see it. Are you sure you don’t understand any poem at all? Perhaps you understand only two poems out of a 100. Good! You understand two uses of that language. Is it impossible for you to understand the other 98 in the same language? No, I don’t believe that.

But poetry can also be understood and enjoyed in parts - perhaps you understand only half a poem or three lines of it. Good enough. You’ve already understood and enjoyed some poetry.

But that’s not all that you asked, is it? You’re asking - Does reading poetry only require one to know only one skill: the language? Or more? So let me go back and expand my previous statement that “poetry is a use of language.” Poetry is a use of language that is enriched with other elements that must be decoded for that particular poem. These might be rhythms, metaphors, etc. that you might sometimes need skills to understand or appreciate. Sometimes though, they come easily. For example, when your ex wrote a poem for you telling you he’d do anything ANYTHING just to spend one minute with you because his love for you was as deep as the ocean, you already knew it was an exaggeration, a hyperbole. The poetry was busted. But if he’d compared your hair to Athena’s hair, would you need to know who Athena was? Yes and No. Because of the context (of love. Unless you were in a fight) you’d know whoever Athena is, her hair’s lovely and so is yours, and your ex is expressing his love by comparing your hair to Athena’s. But then you’d also definitely look Athena up the internet, and the statement would suddenly make much more sense to you - your hair really is as thick as hers, and he really wasn’t kidding. Now you understand and enjoy his ‘poetry’ and his compliment, better.

So, in a way, having the ‘skills to read poetry’ might help you understand and appreciate it more than ‘not having the skills,’ but it’s not like we require ‘the skills’ every time. Poetry can be enjoyed, and understood at least in part, even ‘without the skills.’ In fact, it can also be enjoyed ‘without necessarily having to ‘understand.’ In fact, in this interview, Ada Limon briefly talks about the ‘failure of language.’

Also read this poem by Rafael Alberti:

On the Day of His Death by an Armed Hand

Come right out and tell me if those weren’t the good old days.
5 x 5 was not yet 25
nor had the dawn considered the pointless existence of knives gone dull.

I swear to you by the moon I won’t be a cook,
you swear to me by the moon you won’t be a cook,
he swears to us by the moon we won’t even be smoke in such a sad kitchen.

Who died?

The goose is sorry for being a duck,
the sparrow for being a professor of Chinese,
the rooster for being a man,
and I for having talent and marveling at how miserable
the sole of a shoe usually is in winter.

A queen has lost her crown,
a president of a republic his hat,
and I...

I believe that I have lost nothing,
that I have never lost anything,
that I…

What does buenos dias mean?

Did you understand all of it?
Would you understand more perhaps if you looked up the context? Yes, maybe. Perhaps Rafael makes a reference to a specific president and a specific queen. Maybe this is a ‘historical’ poem written for a historic point in time. Perhaps it is ‘postmodern,’ and the poet has used the technique of fragmentation to convey the agony of his times. Or perhaps this is an ‘absurd poem’? Or maybe, just maybe, the poet was just having fun? Maybe if you tried to understand everything about the context, you’d understand it better, and enjoy it better too, but did you also not enjoy reading it just now ‘without the skills?’ You do not necessarily need to understand EVERYTHING in a poem to understand it, and more importantly, appreciate it. To be honest, I love this poem and get a kick out of ‘not understanding’ it. Because of that, I appreciate it more (Yes, I did not look up what it meant - bad habits die hard, and some do not die at all :)) and I highly suspect this is an ‘absurd poem.’

By this time, I have either given you the answers you’ve been looking for all your life (yes, I like putting this dramatically) OR I have confused you so badly, that you just want me to stop writing any more. Either way, I’ll summarize and give you a rule:

THE RULE
The only rule is that there is no rule to approach a poem. Do not go with preconceptions. Don’t try to know if it is a sonnet or a free verse or whatever already. And also, do think of every poem the same way - each poem is different. We are all people, but there are soo many different kinds - think of every poem as a unique poem, even if it can be clubbed into a ‘form.’ And do not always try to understand it’s ‘deeper meaning.’ Let me demonstrate my last point to you poetically. Read this:

Introduction to Poetry
by Billy Collins

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem’s room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author’s name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.

Makes so much sense, right? I hope it does.
Moving on to summarize:

1. Does one require ‘skills’ to understand and enjoy a poem?
Yes and No. Language itself is a skill though, and yes other skills might help too. But that does not necessarily mean that apart from language, other skills are required to understand or at least enjoy a poem.

2. So, are you saying that understanding and appreciating are different?
Yes and No. Appreciation often comes from understanding and is the only way to be able to appreciate a particular poem sometimes. But other times, understanding might not be required to appreciate a poem and might even damage the enjoyment of the poem a little bit.

3. What do you mean when you say, poetry or rather a particular poem, is a particular use of language, enriched with other elements?
I’m just trying to simplify this for you, so you don’t think of poetry as one big ball of whatever, that you do not understand. Perhaps you don’t understand a poem because of its use of a language you do not know. Perhaps you don’t understand it because you don’t understand the use of the language you do know. Perhaps you don’t understand it fully because you don’t understand the other elements. Perhaps you only understand it in bits. Perhaps you don’t understand it because you have a different taste. Perhaps you don’t even need to understand it. But if you apply the rule I mentioned above and treat every poem as an individual, and with respect, I think you will both, understand and appreciate it more than you otherwise would.

4. So how should I approach a poem when I see one?
When you see one passing by, wave your hand, say hi, go talk a bit. Understand what you can, enjoy what you can, take it easy - the point is to have fun, not pass your exams (though that is a valid point too). Think of encountering new poems more as experiencing them. The more you experience a poem, the more you understand it and enjoy its company. Or maybe it isn’t worth your time, maybe you don’t like its company today; but either way, it will add to your experience of experiencing poems in general, and perhaps you will have learnt a lesson (trait) or two that feel familiar to you when you come across the next one. And that makes you go “Oh, I know this. I’ve seen this happen before” and now it makes a bit more sense, which is to say, perhaps revisit the one that didn’t work out earlier, (it’s not your ex, so it’s safe to ;)) it might just make more sense.

And now, I think I’ve also answered your second question too :)
I hope it makes sense to you Akshata, and to you too, community.
As always, my comments are open for your interpretations and views, and so is my chat (let’s hope, I’ve worked it out by now). You can also email me privately, by simply replying to this email, or share this newsletter with a friend with similar/different. opinions.

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Until next time!
xoxo
Sam.