The recent flap (well, maybe more of a flutter) caused by ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=91.7)
tomsdisch in his "disching" of the Science Fiction Poetry Association raised an issue I've encountered over and over again as someone who wears his "poetry orientation" on his sleeve: the idea that poetry can't or shouldn't be "subdivided" into genres.
There's an analogy that I've used when confronted with this, and which I used most recently onstillnotbored's journal. Saying that poetry can't be distinguished by the nature of content is like saying you can't have grape soda or orange soda because in the end it's all soda. This analogy reflects my own view of what "science fiction poetry" or "fantasy poetry" or "speculative poetry" is: not a separate school of thought or commercial category but a particular flavor or set of flavors.
And having said that, I'm not sure how easily those flavors can be quantified. Consider how diverse things are in the fiction world: the idea that Cormac McCarthy's The Road has something in common with The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, or that these have something in common with Titus Groan, is a bit mind-boggling; yet there's an inexplicable way in which the tastes go together, especially if you're a relatively omnivorous "speculative reader" like myself. Similarly, poems about a post-apocalyptic future, slapstick time travel or surreal castle dwellers would for me readily fit the menu. An autobiographical poem that briefly uses an sftnal idea as a personal metaphor, perhaps not so much, but — this highlights one of the valid gray areas: Joe Haldeman's masterful "DX," widely reprinted in SF and fantasy "Best Of" anthologies, and which I adore, does exactly that. Does "DX" end up being counted as a "speculative poem" because of Joe's identity as an sf writer? Because of who his readers are? I think it's both, but more the latter; it's a poem written in a way that his particular audience will appreciate.
Grasping speculative poetry seems to be a matter of what you read during your formative years; to me the idea of "speculative poetry" as a description of something distinct (or to continue my analogy, with a different taste) from "regular" poetry seems as obvious as daylight and shadow; to folks who haven't encountered the flavor before the idea can result in a blank stare. They're not at all familiar with applying the concept of world-building to poetry.
But again, speculative poetry doesn't have an agenda; it's more a type of seasoning. It may be that if speculative poetry could be focused into a school of thought of a sort, an idea advocated in different ways over the years by folks as diverse as Suzette Haden Elgin and Alan DeNiro, there would be more unity and concert of action within the field among those who practiced it; but then, it might also put an expiration date on said school, where as the SFPA to me seems to have survived as long as it has simply by functioning as a gathering place for folks who appreciate the proffered flavors.
tomsdisch in his "disching" of the Science Fiction Poetry Association raised an issue I've encountered over and over again as someone who wears his "poetry orientation" on his sleeve: the idea that poetry can't or shouldn't be "subdivided" into genres.There's an analogy that I've used when confronted with this, and which I used most recently on
stillnotbored's journal. Saying that poetry can't be distinguished by the nature of content is like saying you can't have grape soda or orange soda because in the end it's all soda. This analogy reflects my own view of what "science fiction poetry" or "fantasy poetry" or "speculative poetry" is: not a separate school of thought or commercial category but a particular flavor or set of flavors.And having said that, I'm not sure how easily those flavors can be quantified. Consider how diverse things are in the fiction world: the idea that Cormac McCarthy's The Road has something in common with The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, or that these have something in common with Titus Groan, is a bit mind-boggling; yet there's an inexplicable way in which the tastes go together, especially if you're a relatively omnivorous "speculative reader" like myself. Similarly, poems about a post-apocalyptic future, slapstick time travel or surreal castle dwellers would for me readily fit the menu. An autobiographical poem that briefly uses an sftnal idea as a personal metaphor, perhaps not so much, but — this highlights one of the valid gray areas: Joe Haldeman's masterful "DX," widely reprinted in SF and fantasy "Best Of" anthologies, and which I adore, does exactly that. Does "DX" end up being counted as a "speculative poem" because of Joe's identity as an sf writer? Because of who his readers are? I think it's both, but more the latter; it's a poem written in a way that his particular audience will appreciate.
Grasping speculative poetry seems to be a matter of what you read during your formative years; to me the idea of "speculative poetry" as a description of something distinct (or to continue my analogy, with a different taste) from "regular" poetry seems as obvious as daylight and shadow; to folks who haven't encountered the flavor before the idea can result in a blank stare. They're not at all familiar with applying the concept of world-building to poetry.
But again, speculative poetry doesn't have an agenda; it's more a type of seasoning. It may be that if speculative poetry could be focused into a school of thought of a sort, an idea advocated in different ways over the years by folks as diverse as Suzette Haden Elgin and Alan DeNiro, there would be more unity and concert of action within the field among those who practiced it; but then, it might also put an expiration date on said school, where as the SFPA to me seems to have survived as long as it has simply by functioning as a gathering place for folks who appreciate the proffered flavors.
