Skip to main content

Poem by Charles Bernstein

Eyewear is very glad to welcome Charles Bernstein (pictured) this Friday. I happen to think he's one of the most significant poets now writing in the English language, and that his recent collection, Girly Man (newly out in paperback this April 15th) is one of the key poetry books, so far, of the 21st century.

Like the music of minimalist Glass, much of the effect is in the shifting tones, the space between the lines, the comedically-timed, exquisite swerving what-comes-next of it all. But in maximalist manner. Bernstein combines (as no British experimental poet currently alive perhaps does - Empson did) the highest and lowest of registers, and the full range of verbal possibilities in his work - from silly pratfall music hall tricks to deadly serious matter.

As such, his poetics clouds minds, and befuddles issues, but makes something clear: no language is out of bounds for a poet, no matter who she is. I find his work bracing, tough, hilarious, sometimes totally out of line, and often inspiring. He's the future of poetry, now. It should be said, many students, fellow poets, and critics, take his oeuvre of manifestos, polemical writings, and texts, with utter seriousness.

And that's fine, and as it should be. He's one of the generators of that much-discussed, oft-misread "school", of L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E Poets - whose indeterminate refusals of complacency or empirical/lyrical traditional form extended the WC Williams/ Olson franchise, combining Yankee open form with (often French) other traditions, without becoming merely an annex or branch of Ashberyian abstract lyric postmodernism. I happen to believe, and this may surprise him, that his work, like Yeats,' will one day be read, with much of the scaffolding of the theory burnt away (just as the Occult and mythic elements of Yeats are often now), and enjoyed, as magnificently pleasurable poetry of energy, style, and high wit.

But for now, the work continues to have political and forceful social purposes in its refusals to be certain things to some readers - so the fascinating tension (even paradox) of his work, and figure, continues - how to be both avant-garde, and so darn entertaining. Not that Bernstein is simply some hipper, smarter Billy Collins, but that highly-theoretical (and often anti-lyrical) poetry has rarely been so stylishly presented.

He'll be reading in London with others on May 14, 2008, as part of the Openned series. If you can, go see him. Few readers make the oral occasion of the performance so richly-textured a part of the process of closely listening to words.

One More for the Road

Like comedy never strikes the same place
More than a couple of times unless you
Change costumes and dance with me, dance

Till the furniture turns to props and
All the mops are a chorus of never
Before heard improbabilities, honeyed alibis

For working too hard, mowing the Astroturf,
Cranking the permafrost, watering the microprocessors
On the kids’ conveyor belts. The bird never

Flies as high as an old-fashioned kick
In the carbonization. --They gave me till
Friday to let them know if the job would

Ever be complete. We’re getting there, just
Fall a little further behind by day
And after dark it’s a mule’s paradise.

from World on Fire

The poem above appears here with the kind permission of the author, and is from Girly Man.

Comments

Unknown said…
Hoo-eee! He's some dude - I've just had a peek at his website... and I'm going to get the book(s).

Popular posts from this blog

IQ AND THE POETS - ARE YOU SMART?

When you open your mouth to speak, are you smart?  A funny question from a great song, but also, a good one, when it comes to poets, and poetry. We tend to have a very ambiguous view of intelligence in poetry, one that I'd say is dysfunctional.  Basically, it goes like this: once you are safely dead, it no longer matters how smart you were.  For instance, Auden was smarter than Yeats , but most would still say Yeats is the finer poet; Eliot is clearly highly intelligent, but how much of Larkin 's work required a high IQ?  Meanwhile, poets while alive tend to be celebrated if they are deemed intelligent: Anne Carson, Geoffrey Hill , and Jorie Graham , are all, clearly, very intelligent people, aside from their work as poets.  But who reads Marianne Moore now, or Robert Lowell , smart poets? Or, Pound ?  How smart could Pound be with his madcap views? Less intelligent poets are often more popular.  John Betjeman was not a very smart poet, per se.  What do I mean by smart?

"I have crossed oceans of time to find you..."

In terms of great films about, and of, love, we have Vertigo, In The Mood for Love , and Casablanca , Doctor Zhivago , An Officer and a Gentleman , at the apex; as well as odder, more troubling versions, such as Sophie's Choice and  Silence of the Lambs .  I think my favourite remains Bram Stoker's Dracula , with the great immortal line "I have crossed oceans of time to find you...".

THE SWIFT REPORT 2023

I am writing this post without much enthusiasm, but with a sense of duty. This blog will be 20 years old soon, and though I rarely post here anymore, I owe it some attention. Of course in 2023, "Swift" now means one thing only, Taylor Swift, the billionaire musician. Gone are the days when I was asked if I was related to Jonathan Swift. The pre-eminent cultural Swift is now alive and TIME PERSON OF THE YEAR. There is no point in belabouring the obvious with delay: 2023 was a low-point in the low annals of human history - war, invasion, murder, in too many nations. Hate, division, the collapse of what truth is, exacerbated by advances in AI that may or may not prove apocalyptic, while global warming still seems to threaten the near-future safety of humanity. It's been deeply depressing. The world lost some wonderful poets, actors, musicians, and writers this year, as it often does. Two people I knew and admired greatly, Ian Ferrier and Kevin Higgins, poets and organise