“No more emotion without narrative. Emotion is inconsequential unless it is the result of a story. The story is communal; it is for others. The inconsequential emotion is the one felt only by the poet himself.” (from "The Reaper's Nongotiable Demands" in the Reaper Essays.
There is something here that I think I too often forget, but remembered by chance in writing a recent poem. Like all, I have been horrified by the tragedy in South Asia. But until Monday, I could find no words. Beverly sent me some pictures of people watching the tidal wave from what they thought was a safe vantage point. But the pictures relate a story of horror.
I could relate to this on a personal level. I have been such a local sightseer, and all but for the grace of the universe, that could have been me. And that was their story to tell in a poem. That was my attempt to comprehend a tragedy that is overwhelming in its scope.
So I believe Messrs. Jarman and McDowell are onto something here. I’ve been reading of the heart that resides in old folk ballads, and these gentlemen are speaking to that same old beat. It needn’t be everyone’s poetic core, as they may have us believe. But I must remember that it needs to be mine. Thanks Reaper.
GLAD YULE!
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