Poetry Meme

1. The first poem I remember reading/hearing/reacting to was…

Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken. Weirdly enough, the poem was in a Jilly Cooper book, and after reading it in there, I bought a book of collected poems by Frost.

2. I was forced to memorize (name of poem) in school and…

I don’t think I had to actually memorise any poetry in school, but I do have a few memories of poetry classes –reading ‘Upon Westminster Bridge’ by Wordsworth (as a country girl I was even then disgusted by the notion that ‘Earth has not anything to show more fair’ than London city), analyzing what turned out to be a list of poetry titles because one teacher was curious about how we perceived poetry, and a class where we all had to pick a poem to share with the class, and I chose one by Emily Dickinson (predictably I cannot now find or recall the poem in question).

I also especially remember this sonnet by Keats, because it expressed some of my feelings when I was about 15 and having more thoughts about things than my head was able to contain.

3. I read/don’t read poetry because….

it adds to my life. Every time I re-read a favourite poem after a long interlude, it feels like coming across a loved friend I haven’t seen for ages and stopping to catch up with them, and finding them as wonderful as I remembered.

4. A poem I’m likely to think about when asked about a favorite poem is …

Puedo Escribir by Pablo Neruda. I know it is cliched to like Neruda, but ever since I discovered his poetry in Borders one day, I’ve been utterly in love with the man. I used to say I’d marry the man who bought me my own library (unless I earn enough to buy my own library first, of course), but I’d settle for the man who wrote me love poems like Pablo Neruda.

5. I write/don’t write poetry, but…
I don’t write poetry because I don’t believe I could ever express my thoughts and feelings as well as the poets I most admire, and possibly do not want to suffer the disappointment of trying and failing. But, I wish I could.

6. My experience with reading poetry differs from my experience with reading other types of literature…

Poetry is more personal, I think. There are some poems that seem to be universally popular, but when it comes to it, reading collections of other people’s favoured poems is never as satisfying as reading your own favourites. Maybe it is the space for interpretation each poem leaves, or the way in which the poet moulds language to their purpose, or even just the memories associated with a certain poem in the mind of the reader. Also, the delicacy of poetry. Prose is often clumsier and almost always far more explicit. I am a dreamer, and I prefer poems that make my mind wander after reading them.

7. I find poetry…

more fulfilling than prose in some instances. Hard to explain; both have their places. Prose captures life and poetry captures the things we take through life with us – feelings, memories, reflections. The things that make us us.

8. The last time I heard poetry….

I was quite into journalism at university, and for one of my feature pieces I went to hear Andrew Motion, the poet laureate, give a reading of some of his works from Public Property. I bought the book as preparation for the interview I was to conduct with him after his reading, and was unimpressed with his poems. Until I heard him read some aloud – then they came to life, and I understood why poets like to read their work aloud. I particularly liked his poem Serenade but unfortunately I couldn’t find it online.

9. I think poetry is like…

Art. It depicts beauty and truth. There are a lot of pretentious fools out there, but the real good quality stuff is instantly discernible. I also think it is like any other literature; some good, some not so good; some complex, some not so much. In my opinion the best poems are those that capture something everyone shares; a common experience (which is why Frost’s poem is so popular), an epiphany everyone has had at some point, feelings everyone had experienced. The best loved poems, if you will, are those that frame the beauty in something common or ordinary in an exceptional way. Who doesn’t have their own golden memory that always makes them smile, like Wordsworth and his daffodils?

Woman At Point Zero

If anyone still bothers to read this, I’d like to apologise for my general lack of posting last week, mainly due to laziness/the winter blues/time spent sitting around and moping. Enough is enough! Pick yourself up traveller, give yourself a dust off, and get back on the road. Louise Bagshawe has been a literary version of Fiji – relaxing, fun, non-taxing, all in all a nice break. (It is possible I may be extending my whole world travels via literature thing too far here…)

Anyway, following my chick lit diversion, I delved into another ‘prison novel’, if I can use that term. It isn’t prison fiction in the same way that This Blinding Absence of Light was, although I hardly need state that the obvious central theme of confinement remains. Nawal el Sadaawi has been imprisoned for her controversial writings and activism for change in Egyptian society. Woman At Point Zero is a partly fictionalised tale of a woman Saadawi met when she paid a visit to Qanatir prison. Firdaus, the woman whose story Saadawi tells, was imprisoned and executed for murder. In telling Firdaus’ tale for her, Saadawi raises many questions about liberty, death, the repression of women, the morals of murder. The novel isn’t about prison walls of stone; it’s about the prison men have made for women in society and the punishments meted out to those who dare to try and break out.

I found Woman At Point Zero an interesting contrast to recent works I’ve read; both The Blinding Absence of Light and So Long A Letter were about confinement and restriction and punishment, and all three are from different parts of Africa with different cultures, albeit a shared religion in the form of Islam. All three books have been exceptional reads, and reading books which take such similar central themes yet take those themes in such different directions has encouraged me to think a lot about the world we live in. Sounds corny, I know, but there is always a new perspective to consider, always a new take on an old situation, and there is always some kind of relevance to our lives or our own society if you choose to see it. And I think I’m still young enough to be a bit naïve about the world!