Penguin Anthology of 20th Century American Poetry

I used to be a poet. Of sorts. At least I used to think of myself in that way when I was young. Now as an adult I rarely find time for poetry, rarely make time to think high thoughts and enjoy language for its primary purpose: intimacy. We tend to favor language for persuasion and information, but those came long after its first purpose of raw communication. When people say “Did I use that right?” or “Is that even a word?” they’re worried about information or persuasion. Typically in those moments where we worry about the “right” word, communication was already achieved and the usagery of proper-fide grammatics matters little. Ironically poetry, one facet to the language of intimacy (a space shared with coos, sighs, moans and prayer), depends on “the right words in the right order.” At least to Coleridge…

That realization and a tip on poetry reading threw me back into the game. Now I’m reading again, but not to sound smart or to get information or to persuade some girl to date me. Now I read to find those garnets and emeralds in the riverbed of poetic thought that show the way to diamonds—those phrases, those thoughts that express what it means to be human.

I started with my American anthology, moved to my Major British Writers tomes for  Rime of the Ancient Mariner and the version of Faerie Queen edited by none other than Clive Staples Lewis. Eventually, however, I started to realize that other than the New Yorker and the Missouri Review, I’ve yet to read work by living poets who influence the craft. My poetic imagination (until this week) grew no older than 1967–the death of Langston Hughes. That was forty-five years ago. That discovery threw my poetic imagination into a mid-life crisis.

I went to my local Joplin Public Library and what do I find but a fabric-bound, silk-paged Penguin Anthology of 20th Century American Poetry. At first, I’m leery. I’ve seen these before (like my American anthology) and they seldom help me move beyond the sixties death line. I crack the first pages to find old friends like E. E. Cummings, T. S. Elliot, Ezra Pound and the inevitable Robert Frost.

Quickly the names branch out to include those still living and those who passed at the close of the Twentieth Century. I crack these pages to find new friends. Robert Creely says, “you want so much so little” while James Merrill points out the “little dog revolving round a spindle/gives rise to harmonies beyond belief,/A cast of stars….Is there in Victor’s heart/No honey for the vanquished? Art is art./The life it asks of us is a dog’s life.” Frank O’Hara extends his sarcastic hand to me while John Ashberry leaves me musing for days over his Self-Portrait in a Convex Mirror. Most moving was Galway Kinnell’s After Making Love We Hear Footsteps, specifically the line “sleeper only the mortal sounds can sing awake.” For the Anniversary of My Death I’ve contemplated writing many things in my journal and W.S. Merwin’s poem by the same name offered counterpoints to things I’ve thought for years.

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Oh there are others like James Wright’s In Response to a Rumor That the Oldest Whorehouse in Wheeling, West Virginia, Has Been Condemned or Philip Levine’s streak of vegetarian rebukes or Anne Sexton’s haunting reflections on suicides, Anne who took her own life at the unripe age of forty-six. I will continue to explore this anthology, this rescue mission for my poetic mind, and dream up new ways to see things and think of life.

For unlike many who stumble upon this blog (sometimes literally), I graduated with neither a degree in the classics nor in English nor with an emphasis on poetry, creative writing or storytelling. My learning on these subjects is patchwork, a quilt of scraps I unearth from library stacks or chance upon inside the dumpster behind my house, refuse like Tom Sawyer and Gone With the Wind and Uncle Tom’s Cabin and A Tale of Two Cities that someone threw away for the burden. Perhaps for the danger of throwing away literary giants my city posted those signs on my dumpster: “No public dumping.” It’s a sad time for our people when you can dumpster dive for the classics. These books are no burden on me, they are light and easy yokes. I tend to think like good Will Hunting:

“You dropped a hundred and fifty grand on a education you coulda got for a dolla fifty in late charges at the public library .”

Five out of five stars on this one, as far as anthologies go.

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PPS> I edit, write and help you with your story for free on May Day!


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  1. sedula

    Hi. I am a poetry junkie and have often gone to readings by famous living poets, and not so famous. So I have a lot of poetry books by new individual poets that have lasted past the sixties or just starting out. You may like to check out David Lee, Mark Strand (former Poet Laureate) Carolyn Kizer, and for an interesting experiment, The Viking Portable Library BEAT READER, oh and all of Sherman Alexie’s poetry. Love Frank O’Hara, have his biography.

    1. lanceschaubert

      Wow, that sounds really fun. I’mo have to write all of these down. What’s the beat reader?

      1. Doberman

        It is an Anthology of the poets in the Beat Movement, Daddy-o!

        1. lanceschaubert

          Haha. Sounds fun. I can dig a good beat read.

  2. sedula

    Hi It’s Doberman…with a new name. I am a poetry junkie and attend poetry readings by famous and not so famous liveing poets. Even many who have lasted through the 1960’s! I recommend Mark Strand, Carolyn Kizer, Sherman ALexie, DAvid Lee, AR Ammons and Gary Snyder. These have all been around for a long time, except for maybe Alexie, but his poetry is a window into a world we may never otherwise have a chance to even glimpse. If you want to get crrraaayyy-zeee, check out The Viking Portable Library’s “Beat Reader”. I love Frank O’Hara, I have his biography. Oh, I think you would like CD Wright, as well. I bet there are tons of local poets in your State that you would enjoy as well, I am in a hurry otherwise I would fine ’em for you. Glad to be back in the comments.

    1. lanceschaubert

      State? Yes. City? No. Either that, or they’re the worst hermits in human history. I know the Missouri Review has a nice backing, but other than it, I wouldn’t even know where to look. Some days, I feel very alone in those regards. Actually that’s how I feel most days about this stuff. In the Middle West if you’re a graphic designer, people say “sweet, I’m starting a small business. I’ve needed some help with…” If you’re a photographer, people say, “sweet! I’m starting a small family and we’ve wanted some great pictures of…” But if you’re a writer there’s two responses:

      1. “Aww that’s cute.”
      2. “So what’s your day job like?”

      People don’t understand that you can make money doing what you love without being a national best selling laureate or fiction writer, even at the start. Even in spite of all of that, I’m carving out clientele. I can’t imagine trying to be a poet in this climate.

      Glad you’re back.

  3. sedula

    All of the poets you named in this blog are more than worthy of further reading, does your library have a good poetry section? Sorry about the typos in the previous comment but for some reason the delete key was acting up. Anne Sexton was quite the breakthrough artist in confessional poetry. Heart’s Needle by WD Snodgrass is another book I cannot recommend highly enough. Okay, enough. Loved the Titanic post. Was also recently frustrated by people on their phones in the theater. I file that under “Behavior I do not understand”.

    1. lanceschaubert

      As of right now, I couldn’t tell you. I’ll have to double check. No prob on the typos. Yeah, my inner highschooler that nearly offed himself in the early 2Ks resonated with Sexton. Lance now found her stuff haunting in retro and sorry no one spoke into her life or really reached out to her at all for some lovin’.

      Well thanks for the compliment. Laughed aloud at the “behavior I do not understand” gig. It always fascinates me how the older generations are so twitterpated with technology, an issue I hope to deal with in my inevitable series. It was, and is, one of the core questions for Americans: is Tech God, the Devil or the glory of man?

      Anyway, good to have you back as always.

      1. Doberman

        Sexton had loads of support from friends, family and psychiatrists/therapists. The commonly held belief is that although her marriage was co-dependent and she cheated umpteen times, her decision to divorce her husband was a big mistake for her. But with someone like Sexton, one can probably never really know why she finally did commit suicide when she had been suicidal for decades.

        1. lanceschaubert

          Fascinating (in a reverent sort of way). Yeah, divorce is hell. After living through my parents’ divorce, I can firmly recommend that no one, adults included, try it at home. Poor gal–but then you know my thoughts on suicide after the “daring to live” post.

  4. Doberman

    Awwww…it sure doesn’t look like it.

    1. lanceschaubert

      Yes I did. Shingles. Sorry, had to approve them under your alternate name. They’re up now.

  5. Doberman

    Okay, I will sum up…Poets I recommend: WD Snodgrass, Sherman Alexie, WS Merwin, CArolyn Kizer, Maxine Kumin, Gary Snyder, CD Wright, David Lee, look for local poets in your area, support new poets! Yay! If you want to get wild try The Beat Reader by Viking Portable Library and it is awesome to go to poetry readings,. I think I whrote something like that but WAY cooler. Sorry about your illness! I love Frank O’Hara’s work and I have his and Anne Sexton’s biographies. I ama poetry addict. Oh and read Mark Strand, he has a great poem about eating poetry.

    1. lanceschaubert

      Thanks for the sympathy.

    2. Doberman

      Yikes, you can delete any of the redundant comments here. Obviously Wednesday I was hyper! Hope your shingles is not too bad! Healing prayers for you!

      1. lanceschaubert

        It’s alright, it actually made me smile when I was otherwise despondent, so unless you want them down, I’ll leave them up for good measure.

        They’re getting better, thought they got worse first. Thanks for the prayers.

  6. Doberman

    Okay, I am often hyper. Not just on Wednesdays.

    1. lanceschaubert

      hahahaha. Hyper is good. I’m one of the few people that has more energy than the children of my best friends.

  7. Oh My God « Lance Schaubert

    […] 20th Century Poetry post was well-received by some newcomers, and I think the last half of this song does some interesting […]

  8. Q & A « Lance Schaubert

    […] the mortal sounds can sing awake” mean? First off, for anyone reading, they’re referring to the Penguin Anthology of Poetry post. For the questioner, Galaway Kinnell is referring to their young child who walked in on them […]

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