I can tell this is a poet I am going to return to, maybe out of sheer enjoyment rather than to learn from. This summer I am trying to experiment with how I read--I think sometimes I am too quick to judge. So I am trying to spend more time with texts and to push past initial impressions, simply because upon first impressions, I tend to dislike large swaths of poetry, and that can get frustrating and be limiting.
Which is all to say, at first read, I found Moore very difficult and with a predeliction for overly fussy diction and syntax. She also seemed didactic, and her so-called "wit" seemed rather smug and moralistic. In general, I found her old-fashioned, obscure, very lacy, calling too much attention to the appearance of her poems and their strange architechture and sounds.
But. I stuck with her. I still don't understand her very well, but the very weirdness of her language, and its intricacy, and the steel craftsmanship--I think maybe I could see Moore's poems as like diamonds, many many facets, all smoothly cut and polished, and maybe not my favorite gem but certainly awe-inspiring, mysterious, and meaningful.
Favorites: "Poetry" (how can you not love that first line--"I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all this fiddle"), "Silence" (like "Poetry," this is one of her widely anthologized; a teacher once remarked that a poet's most anthologized are her most simple, which this certainly demonstrates, but still, another amazing beginning quote); "An Octopus" (man, is this bizzare. On the first several reads, I thought it was about a real octopus, which made it that much more bizzare. Now I think the octopus is actually some sort of glacier. So many quotations in this poem!); "To a Snail" (love that last line about "the curious phenomenon of your occipital horn"); "Nine Nectarines;" "The Pangolin" (reminded me a bit of Bishop's "Armadillo." Lines I love: "...this ant-and stone-swallowing uninjurable / artichoke which simpletons thought a living fable / whom the stones had nourished, whereas ants had done / so..." Perhaps my favorite series of lines in this book--the strangeness of how the pangolin is described (ant and stone swallowing uninjurable artichoke! and yet, how accurate, for all this alien imagery!), the awesome sounds, the mythical quality of this creature. Also I like "Nevertheless" (those last two stanzas: "The weak overcomes its / menace, the strong over-/comes itself. What is there // like fortitude! What sap / went through that little thread / to make the cherry red!" What an image of a cherry, and what an idea.) I'm a fan of "Elephants" as well.
Bottom line--I feel like I just barely have touched the surface of Moore, but I am glad to be introduced to her. A much beloved teacher of mine once told me that she thought reading John Ashbery helps her loosen her writing muscles; he makes her take greater leaps and liberate herself. He didn't do that for me, but I feel like Moore might. She is so weird, yet so precise. She builds a lot of beauty in her complex poems. I'm not sure yet what I can learn from her, and I think I'll put her down for now--but maybe she can help loosen me up, and try new things? I wonder if ultimately it will be her craftsmanship in sound play--the alphabet seems such a glittering, hard thing in her hands, capable of being strung together in unheard-of combinations, but always with this flinty element that makes me see some sort of uber-sharp artistic eye beneath.