The book provides a history of poetry (oral, story origins; song, meter; rhythm and rhyme – way back when), and breaks down the various forms of poetic expression. The author says that poetic lines are “a unit of meaning,” creating pauses, emphasis, and points of transition; that the beginning letter of each line does not have to be capitalized (it’s an aesthetic choice); and that titles “can be the key to unlocking the meaning or concept of the poem.” Poets have a concept. They have something to say. They see things not seen by others. They distill and paint with words.
Elsewhere, the author writes that poets “render their feelings and thoughts into verse such that a reader is able to understand and feel clearly what the poet meant.” “You are not the maker of puzzles,” she writes. “If your reader is baffled, you’ve not done your job….” “Your reader should not have to decipher your poems – no one wants to work that hard.” “Better that your reader understands what you’re writing about than be mystified and put down your work. Unless you’re writing a riddle, come right out and say what you mean.” That’s all good advice for a poet, though it doesn’t seem to match up with the poetry that’s out there. In that regard, the author also writes later that poems “can be baffling if you don’t know what to look for or what to appreciate.” Given that contradiction in Moustaki’s advice, it must be that poetic expression ranges from simple song-like poems to those with complex language, structure and meaning (e.g., I suppose, The Wasteland).
Moustaki states more than a few times that feeling and senses are evoked in poems by things not by “concepts and ideas.” She repeats the common advice to “Show, don’t tell.” For example, instead of saying someone has “nice legs,” a poet (William Carlos Williams) might say, “Your thighs are appletrees whose blossoms touch the sky.” In examples like that, one might prefer to stick with nice legs. Though neither fresh nor original, it’s two clear words versus nine words that create cognitive dissonance. Her advice might be a matter of taste. For poems that must be studied, do they evoke feeling and senses? Can’t conceptual insights evoke feeling and senses? Aren’t many of Will Durant’s lines on the lessons of history expressed poetically? The author also advises the budding poet to use “poetic conventions,” but fails to tell us what these are. The book itself suggests that poetry is largely free form, individualized expression, though these collectively might be categorized in some general ways. For editing and revising, the author quotes William Faulkner as the source of the “Murder your darlings” advice, which has an interesting controversy associated with it regarding attribution. Some state that Arthur Quiller-Couch was the original source of this quote.