Comments on: Numbers Trouble

By: Mary Meriam

Mary Meriam — Mon, 19 Nov 2007 03:24:35 +0000

Alicia - you might find this essay interesting, re ambiguous pronouns: The Suppression of Lesbian and Gay History http://www.infopt.demon.co.uk/suppress.htm

By: Alicia (A.E.)

Alicia (A.E.) — Sat, 17 Nov 2007 07:32:56 +0000

Thanks Marilyn very much for bringing up Strong Measures, which I do know of, but do not have it in my limited library here–a serious oversight I’m sure, and I promise to track down a copy. (And I’m without access to a research or lending library–just what I own or can have shipped here.) I make no claims to being a historian of formalism! But it did seem to me that there was something to be said from “the other side of the fence” as regards the Chicago Review article on women in innovative poetry. I’m glad you came by to help set the record straight! I’d be very interested in any further thoughts you have on the matter.
I’ve been eavesdropping here on Robin and Mary too on the interesting issue of gendered pronouns in poetry–I’ve been thinking of it in terms of Cavafy’s early poems, where he is not yet so direct about his homosexuality. Greek, like many other languages, has gender, and so even an adjective for the beloved must be eschewed if gender is to be kept ambiguous. It is interesting to see how Cavafy naviagates this. That might be worth a separate post…

By: Mary Meriam

Mary Meriam — Fri, 16 Nov 2007 16:55:22 +0000

Cool! What else, Robin? The madwoman in the attic? Do you have a link to it for the my library-less self? Can you please expound on your itch?

By: Robin Kemp

Robin Kemp — Fri, 16 Nov 2007 14:24:44 +0000

Something itches me about this discussion. It takes me back to the exchange between Helen Vendler and Susan Gubar/Sandra Gilbert/Camille Paglia in the NYTBR ca. 1990.

By: Marilyn Taylor

Marilyn Taylor — Wed, 14 Nov 2007 18:18:22 +0000

This exchange was just called to my attention by a friend, and I have read it with considerable interest after having served as Chair or Co-chair of the four consecutive seminars on women’s poetry at West Chester (2003-2006).
My primary reason for posting, however, is not to expound about sexism in poetry, but to mention to Alicia that I’m a little surprised that she makes no reference in her essay to “Strong Measures”– the 1986 formalist anthology edited by Phillip Dacey and David Jauss. It includes 42 women poets– far fewer than half, but I think the number suggests some genuine, if belated, progress in the right direction.
Interestingly (considering the concerns under discussion here), I continue to find “Strong Measures” a much stronger collection than “Rebel Angels”, which it predates by a decade. I base this conclusion on my own admittedly personal and idiosyncratic assessment of the poetry, which has nothing to do, frankly, with the ratio of male to female poets. From my point of view, “Strong Measures” is truly the seminal formal anthology, gender issues notwithstanding. And I feel that it deserves at least a mention in this exchange.
Marilyn Taylor

By: Mary Meriam

Mary Meriam — Tue, 13 Nov 2007 17:18:58 +0000

Did I misread your post, Robin? There’s so much to think about and say – I was just blogging, which seems to me a little like blabbing – about how I feel and my experience – certainly not in any complete way. Are you saying that I’m saying your poems are not lesbian enough? Is being “free with pronouns” being a literary victim? What is a literary victim? Can one really choose whether or not to be a victim? Who are these literary victims? If I were not free with pronouns, would I save myself from becoming a literary victim? Maybe Charlotte Mew was a literary victim. If she had felt free with pronouns, maybe she wouldn’t have killed herself.
It’s hard for me to wrap my mind around your questions or imagine anyone without biases, as if there is some unassailable standard of excellence.

By: Robin Kemp

Robin Kemp — Tue, 13 Nov 2007 08:40:36 +0000

I think you misread my (lesbian) post, Mary. (Add my poetry not being “lesbian enough” to the many criticisms on the list!) I refuse to take the stance of literary victim, though.
I ask again: how do we reconcile the fundamental dilemma between individual artistic excellence and proportional representation of said excellence? This is a question far broader than any of our memberships, allegiances, or identities. Is it one worth pursuing? And to what extent is this alleged bias quantifiable, as opposed to an editorial judgment call?

By: Mary Meriam

Mary Meriam — Thu, 08 Nov 2007 04:10:34 +0000

“Mary, I’m a lesbian poet, but my poems are not necessarily lesbian, as they have neither nether parts nor travel in like pairs.”
Yes, Robin, I know it’s heresy to self-identify. I’m sorry the theorists have beaten to death the question of what makes a poem one kind or another, but I’m not as interested in what they say, as I am interested in my own reading of poems, my own aesthetics. If I really like a poem, I often want to know more about where the poem came from, i.e., who wrote it. You can call it the big picture if you want. I like the big picture. I want to be part of the big picture, too.
As for what I worry about – absolutely, I only worry about the poem while I’m working on the poem. I’m not consciously writing to or for anyone in particular. But I’m sure somewhere, way in the back of my mind, my readers are mingling, having a party, eagerly waiting to read my next thing. Anyhow, blah de blah blah… Let’s say you read a love poem, and you don’t know anything about the author, name or anything. You feel all of sudden like you really love this poem, it’s the kind of love poem you’ve always wanted to write. It turns out the poem was written by a lesbian. Surprise! When this happens to me, I take note, and file it away in my statistical analysis memory bank.
I was thinking about Mary Oliver. Now there’s a lesbian poet who, from what I’ve read of her poems, seems to have completely sidestepped the pronoun issue. A very popular poet, beloved by all sorts of people. And no pronouns (from what I’ve read). Ok! That’s fine for her. I’m just not the kind of poet who is willing to forget about pronouns. Statistically speaking (and I hope I’m not going too far off the topic), I get the feeling (not too scientific, sorry) that this places my poems at odds with non-queer editors, who can’t relate to and have no aesthetic pleasure from reading my free with pronouns poems.

By: Robin Kemp

Robin Kemp — Thu, 08 Nov 2007 00:31:07 +0000

Oh! Alicia! ANON is a great idea!… After the blind submissions process, do the editors match up each poem to its maker in print, or do readers have to guess which contributor wrote which poem? Now THAT would be a fun little exercise! (”Correct answers will appear in the back of our next issue!”)
Mary, I’m a lesbian poet, but my poems are not necessarily lesbian, as they have neither nether parts nor travel in like pairs.
Setting aside the question of what makes a poem a lesbian poem, or a woman’s poem, or a man’s poem, or a gay man’s poem, or a(n) _____ poem, which theorists have beaten to death by now, I don’t worry too much about writing poetry exclusively for this or that group. I write poems, publish them occasionally, know that some have special appeal to (a) particular audience(s), hope that all kinds of people like them as poems, know that some people won’t like them for various reasons (sound or petty). C’est la vie.
If I happen to write a sonnet, or a poem with political subject matter, or a completely ear-driven, rhythmic free verse poem, or whatever other kind of poem, I just hope that it works as a poem eventually and that it will find its own audience/home. I can’t worry about other people’s preconceptions (”You’re a formalist!” “You’re a political poet!” “You’re an academic poet!” “You’re a Southern poet!” “You’re a lesbian poet!”, etc. etc. etc., blah blah blah–I’ve heard them all, and more). All I worry about is the latest poem I’m writing. The big picture will take care of itself.
There are so many small presses and so many self-publishing companies out there that, truly, anyone can publish or be published. Whether one thinks this is in the great Whitmanic tradition or is the onslaught of the unwashed hordes, anyone really can get published, in varying degrees of non-vanity-press legitimacy.
In a way, this takes off the pressure to be prolific, to be in the in-crowd du jour, to make the circuit. Opportunities present themselves. If one is cut out, one can always start one’s own imprint, “school,” cult, clique, LLC, etc.
Back to the numbers: is the fundamental point that 1) women are for whatever reason unfairly excluded from certain prestigious mags, or 2) that proportional representation is more important than the quality of any given work? Can we really make either of these claims based on the partial stats here? I don’t think so. Aren’t these claims also based on more fundamental ideologies (e.g., social equality versus individual achievement)?
Even if the stats were complete, we still have to sort out the difficult business of whose aesthetic, whose politics, whose non-gender (e.g., Po-Biz) biases, etc. to negotiate.
Another variable that might make some difference is how many poems the poets sent to how many magazines. One rejection for one submission means less statistically than, say, ten rejections from eleven mags. In the end, we only care about the mag that says YES.

By: Mary Meriam

Mary Meriam — Tue, 06 Nov 2007 16:20:43 +0000

Lesbian poet here. You think women have problems?
Here’s a book I found interesting, in case you haven’t seen it:
Where We Stand: Women Poets on Literary Tradition
http://www.amazon.com/Where-We-Stand-Literary-Tradition/dp/0393312097
“In other words, this looks to me not so much an issue of sexism at magazines–whose goal after all should be to publish the best poems they receive, regardless-”
You seem open-minded and fair in your reading of poems, Alicia, but I haven’t had that experience with most editors. I’ve had the best reception from lesbian editors, and thank goodness there are lesbian editors at more mainstream journals these days. I’m always shocked and amazed when a non-lesbian editor accepts my poems.
Also, I read somewhere that Eileen Myles is writing about the woes of being a female poet.