I know I should like and appreciate poetry. But I never hear anyone quoting, let alone reading it. “You should read poetry” has the same ring as “You should it your vegetables.” It sounds good and would make me healthier, but maybe I’m just a “meat and potatoes” guy when it comes to books. Stories please from history or fantasy, I’ll pass on the poetry.
Well, no longer. I want to start to understand poetry, and maybe I’ll even start to like it. One nudge in the right direction came from Dana Gioia’s book, “Poetry as Enchantment”. This book, as a collection of essays and reviews, felt like I was setting down with someone who not only understands the importance of poetry, but actually likes it. Gioia confronts the problem I’ve had for so long: Poetry is just for the elite, for the intelligent. Poems are opaque to ward off the faint of heart, the uninitiated.
“Not so”, I heard Gioia say. Poems have been around since the beginning of civilization. They weren’t meant primarily to be analyzed, but to be experienced. The musical arrangement of words spoken to others was to delight and inspire. “The power of poetry”, writes Gioia, “is to affect the emotions, touch the memory, and incite the imagination with unusual force.” As I kept reading the other essays, reviewing poems and poet’s work, I started to feel this “unusual force”.
This book was a wonderful invitation to work toward that delight, that enchantment. Moving forward, I will always read a poem first to experience it before trying to analyze. I think Gioia would approve. “In poetry, intellectuality without physicality becomes dull and barren, just as intuition untethered by intellect quickly becomes sloppy and subjective. We need to augment methodology with magic.”