Volume 49, Number 3 · February 28, 2002
I Know Where I'm Going
By Charles Simic
Sailing Alone Around the Room: New and Selected Poems
by Billy Collins
Random House, 172 pp., $21.95
Memoir of the Hawk: Poems
by James Tate
Ecco Press, 175 pp., $25.00
I remember overhearing a conversation at the conclusion of a poetry reading many years ago. Two very funny poets had read that night, Russell Edson and Bill Knott, who were in top form and had the audience laughing. 'Weren't they just great?' a woman said on the way out, and her companion agreed, 'Yes, they were.' Then, he paused for a moment and added, 'of course, you know, that was not really poetry.' It shocked me to hear him say that. He meant, I suppose, that poetry is serious and what these fellows just gave us was an evening of light entertainment. Probably, if he had been pressed to explain himself further, he would have argued that solemnity is the indication of weighty subject matter, while comedy at best is a pleasant diversion with no edifying lesson to teach. Of course, he is not alone in feeling that way. Let the poet mention the eternal beauties of nature and most readers are under the impression that something sublime is being said. Let him mention a hot dog on a bun and everybody knows instantly this man will never be Dante.
Review, 4199 words
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