Marilyn Chin
When it comes to poetry, lying is either good, or it isn’t.
There are several ways we can approach lying and poetry.
Philip Sidney (1554-1586) was very clever in his Defense of Poetry: poetry does not claim to tell the truth, so it “cannot lie.”
Plato, the social critic who condemned poetry, went to great lengths not to allow what would become Sidney’s excuse to wind its way into society. Plato said: no, poetry does lie, even if it does so unintentionally, and furthermore, careless or ignorant lying is worse than intentional lying—which may be a puzzling thing for Plato to say, until you realize: who would trust a pilot who can’t fly but thinks he can? To trust ignorance in any matter of importance leads to our doom, whereas cunning, selfish, deception at least participates in knowing; unlike ignorance—a hijacker, to save himself, might save us.
The third approach, as an increasing number of contemporary poets might put it: we can forget about lying and poetry. Poetry is truth and my poetry tells the truth.
June Gehringer: “I don’t write about race,/ I write about gender,/ I once killed a cis white man,/ and his first name/ was me.”
Gehringer’s opponent in the Life Bracket is:
Alec Solomita: “All of the sky is silent/Even the jet shining/like a dime way up high”
We could see the modern day Plato perhaps objecting to the poetry of June Gehringer—but not necessarily because it lies. Isn’t June Gehringer telling the truth? Ultimately, Plato wanted to protect his idea of the Republic. Both lies and truth, in their own way, can serve the long term good. Plato wanted the role-model gods in poetry to be depicted as brave, and not cowardly. Since cowardice has more emotion than bravery, in Plato’s view, emotion was bad, and therefore emotional poetry was bad.
Is this emotional? “I don’t write about race,/ I write about gender,/ I once killed a cis white man,/ and his first name/ was me.”
One can hear this spoken with no emotion at all.
Yet there does seem to be emotion in the expression itself—in the poetry.
Gehringer’s truth is an emotional, dramatic truth—of which Plato was wary.
We cannot believe Plato would be afraid of “All of the sky is silent/Even the jet shining/like a dime way up high.”
We have no idea whether if one of these wins, it will be a victory for a certain kind of philosophy. There is a quiet charm in that “jet shining.”
We don’t know if this means the Republic will survive, but Alec Solomita wins.
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Marilyn Chin is the author of the iconic, late 20th century poem, “How I Got That Name,” and she finished second to Ben Mazer in the 2012 Scarriet March Madness Tournament. She brings to this 2019 March Madness, the tourney made of fragments, this one which closes her famous poem:
“by all that was lavished upon her/and all that was taken away!”
Scarriet discovered Stephen Cole on Facebook. It’s a pity more don’t know his work.
“I feel the wind-tides/Off San Fernando Mountain./I hear the cry of suicide brakes/Calling down the sad incline/Of Fremont’s Pass.”
This is a classic battle between classic architecture: “all that was/all that was” v. “I feel the/I hear the”
“Lavished” and “taken” packs a real punch, and the “wind-tides” and “cry of suicide brakes” sure is haunting.
This is too close to call.
Stephen Cole, in a puff of smoke lingering over Fremont’s Pass, wins.
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Sam Sax has that drinking, slam poet vibe, and maybe he’s this century’s Dylan Thomas, we don’t know. His opponent is Dylan Thomas, in a twist of fate. Do not go gently into that March Madness. The ‘Dylan Thomas poet’ is known for those rueful, end-of-the-line truths. Sam Sax brings it with:
“that you are reading this/must be enough”
Hits it out of the park, doesn’t it?
The ‘Dylan Thomas poet’ sometimes sinks into hyperbole and sentimentality. They either hit a home run, or fall down, striking out.
And, to speak for the Dylan Thomas poet is Dylan Thomas:
“After the first death, there is no other.”
We all know what he means.
Sax and Thomas lean on each other, exhausted, after 15 rounds of fighting:
“that you are reading this/must be enough”
“After the first death, there is no other.”
Sam Sax has just enough! Sam Sax advances!
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Next up, the fourth and last bracket of play, the Beautiful Bracket—first round.
Then we’ll be down to 32 poets,and heading for the Sweet 16…