How to read a poem

 

I was asked by a former student (we’ll call him Circus Maximus) for advice on the reading and understanding of poetry. As an English teacher, it is assumed that I understand things like poems, if not poems, themselves. This couldn’t be farther from the truth. English teachers know how to have opinions without understanding, and how to sell those opinions as convincing interpretations imbued with supposed authority.

But I digress.

First we have to assume that a poem CAN BE UNDERSTOOD. This is not so obvious. Sometimes, poems are an expression of the unexpressable, the internal vocabulary failing to find form in the limited real. You might be able to get close to understanding but emotion is elusive, a message may get muddled. Good God but I love alliteration.

So once we get past the concern that a poem may be a private exercise and a reader might never get down to what it really was intended to convey, we still have to worry that the reader's own biases will do more than their fair share of creating meaning. When we read the websites claiming to have "the" meaning of a poem, we are reading the opinion of some professor or grad student and why do we think that having read other things confers on any other person the authority to divine all meaning of all text?

Sure, some are experts because they have experience with other similar work, or with other works by the same author, but that doesn't automatically make them "right." So let's take their opinions with the commensurate salt. And maybe paprika.

And yes, I recommend reading what other people have said. Any other people. Teachers, students, woodland creatures. All of it, or at least a goodly amount. You will ultimately decide that you agree with one, another, all, none or some combination of the voices out there as you add your own. It's all good, Jerry.

OK, now we have to confront the poem, itself. I will lay out the steps I give to my student. I present these in no particular order besides the right one:

1. The meaning of the words

2. The use of the words (considering many contexts)

3. The words as parts of phrases

4. The phrases as figures of speech

5. Identify the poetic forms and devices

6. Try to piece together the specific meaning of the poem, accounting for 1-5 (plus outside factors and variables)

7. Try to get a sense of the themes and possible deeper references and meanings of the poem beyond the surface (what is the poem about vs. what does the poem say)

Repeat. And remember, talking it out -- arguing with others going through the same process is essential. Understanding is both personal and communal. You can't be right unless you have told someone else he is wrong! Amirite? Damn right I am.

When you are done with all of these steps, pause, grow as a person, as a reader and thinker. Many years later (or the next day, read it again. Prepare to be wrong. I'm not saying it has ever happened to me, but I hear it is a thing. Supplement your reading with an understanding of the author, the time, the words as they were and as they sound and then be ready to throw all of this out if the moment demands it. A poem can be simple and straightforward, or labyrinthine and obscure. Or both. And that's OK!

You can leave a poem being confused, or convinced that everyone else is wrong. You can leave not getting how or why the supposed experts got to the readings they did, unable to work backwards and see what they saw. It is a poem, not IKEA directions. Parts and directions are often missing in a poem. Start with poems that make sense. Build your strength and get better at the "easy" ones and then start chipping away at the others. Some will never make sense to you (and probably don't to most people, but we are all too proud to admit it). Try writing some poetry. It will be bad, but it will help you understand the the thoughts and motivations, the methods and practices of the writer.

In time, you will figure something out. It might be that you don't see why poetry is necessary, good or not criminal. That's also OK. Enough for now.

A Passover thought. Yes. In August.

 I was looking at the Chabad website this evening and saw a brief thought about the relationship between teacher and student, and it closed with the following statement:

"A real teacher is one who goes to the student, awakens the student, and demands, “Why don’t you bother me, my student? Ask me! Speak to me!”"

It makes an important point -- a teacher's job should be to inspire questions. When we have to guess at what students need to know we miss stuff, so the most important skill we can teach is critical thinking empowered by critical questioning.

It called to mind the idea of the 4 sons related at the Passover Seder. There are these 4 sons -- the wise one, the evil one, the simple one and the one "she'eino yode'a lish'ol." This is often translated as "the one who does not know how to ask" or even "one who does not know to ask."

These are nice translations but I think that they miss a more important point. I think that this son is the one who does not know that he is allowed to ask. He assumes that religion has to be taken as unquestioned dogma. He sits back, expecting to be told what to do, never understanding that challenging, raising objections and then listening to explanations and answers is a vital part of the teaching and learning process. The mother is instructed, in response: "At p'tach lo" you (female) open up for him. But open what? Open the floor for questions. Teach him to open his mouth and ask! The entire seder is driven by the concept of "so that the children should ask." The goal isn't to sit there and watch the world go by, but become an active participant.