This is a book-length poem divided into seventeen section. The form is all couplets and the content mainly concerns man-made garbage and vignettes from the speaker’s life. As these vignettes are occasionally about teaching poetry, I think we can gather that the vignettes are from the author’s life. Many of these vignettes have to do with minor nature encounters (a stray cat eats a chipmunk that likes to frequent the speaker’s yard; a bird shits on the speaker, etc). Intertwining all of this is ruminations on language and poetry, especially regarding meaning and excessive meaning and ways to make meaning (if you are thinking that there would be a lot of room here to make connections between garbage-making and word-making, you are right! Ammons repeatedly goes there).
I have many thoughts on this book. The diction is purposefully clunky and unbeautiful and stripped of most types of figurative language. Sentences can go on forever, syntax usually complicates and does not clarify. In short, there seems to be a real goal to use “unpoetic” language. Why? I am not sure. This goal interests me, although I can’t see myself ever pursuing it in my own writing.
At the same time, many of the seventeen sections are structured the same way. Musings, musings, musings, then bam! sharp turn into some real emotional ground. Now, does this poetic device contradict the above? i.e. can Ammons in good faith practice an anti-lyrical stance, indeed, an anti-poetry stance, while still employing a few of poetry’s trademarks (i.e., a repeating structure?)
This poetry is also pretty meta—Ammons likes to reflect on what he is doing while he is doing it. Usually, that annoys me. Here, it did give me some grounding. I would be thinking to myself, oh, the poet is being purposefully messy and vague and abstract because he wants to make some sort of (loving? despairing?) comparison between detritus of words and physical detritus. Then Ammons would say something that would exactly confirm this—he’d say something about how this poem is meant to be “dust with a few sharp corners” (well, he never said exactly that, but something like that).
So this book was satisfying in the way that some project books are satisfying, in that the whole thing spins off of one main subject. And the poet’s commentary on what he was doing was like shining the project up and making sure I got all of its individual facets.
I did find this book charming—I’m not that interested in recycling as poetic subject matter, and, honestly, Ammons treated this subject pretty lightly—he was more interested in piling up words of icky doodads than going deeply into the science of use, reuse, etc. However, should he have gone more deeply into what garbage is? Was his gentle gloss of the subject laziness?
I was talking about this book with my boyfriend, and he raised a good point. A book like this, which talks around its subject and refers back to itself, tells us again and again what it is creating. But a poet like Celan uses language to actually create a new world or a new way of thinking. In other words, while the former describes world-making, the latter actually does it.
Thinking more about the “meta” elements and the belligerent everydayness of the language and content made me think how in many ways, “Garbage” could be viewed as self-indulgent. A lot of books from its era (it was published in 1993) and now do the same thing—in one way or another, they issue a command of, enter into my mind! I won’t try to filter or screen or consolidate, because that wouldn’t be an adequate reflection of this incomplete, inarticulate, purposeless world!
I’m getting sick of books like that. Yeah, the world might be all of those things, but I get bored reading the unsmoothed, unedited wanderings of someone’s mind. Why is art no longer allowed to make some kind of order out of chaos? That’s a generalization, but there is a real trend of this meandering, mundane writing.
I did nevertheless kind of like this book. Garbage is an interesting subject, no matter how you treat it; I enjoyed the moments of truth that often concluded sections; there was some humor; and I’m interested by some of the questions this book raised for me about project books, “process” as a subject, anti-poetic language as a goal, etc. Plus this book has one of the coolest covers I’ve seen in a while.