Julie
03-05-2001, 08:07 PM
One of the problems with a forum like this is the number of people who are not confident of their abilities to critique others.
One of the problems with learning to critique others is our fear of hurting someone's feelings, or "getting it wrong."
Well, let's see if we can get beyond those two hangups with some exercises. The first one, hurting someone's feelings, won't be an issue because we will use poems from people who are either dead or otherwise immune to criticism.
The second one, which is the much higher hurdle, can only be overcome with practice. The more critiques you read (and write) the more you'll realize that there isn't really any such thing as "getting it wrong." Okay, it would be wrong if you called "Beowulf" haiku, but beyond that.
These exercises will not be for showing off. If you are comfortable critiquing the work of others, go crit in High or Merciless. This work is for those who are not yet comfortable and who need some basic pointers. The poems I will use may be familiar to some of you. I won't be using the names of the authors because that, too, can be intimidating. Many people might feel that you can't say anything negative about the works of a celebrated author, so we simply won't name the author. If you know the author, bravo, but keep it to yourself.
So, in light of that explanation, I'll post a poem below and in other threads. I'm going to do my best to help participants along, and anyone else is welcome to help explain some of the finer points of critique. If you feel like belittling someone's efforts, go away now.
On with the show!
My Voice
Within this restless, hurried, modern world
We took our hearts' full pleasure - You and I,
And now the white sails of our ship are furled,
And spent the lading of our argosy.
Wherefore my cheeks before their time are wan,
For very weeping is my gladness fled,
Sorrow has paled my young mouth's vermilion,
And Ruin draws the curtains of my bed.
But all this crowded life has been to thee
No more than lyre, or lute, or subtle spell
Of viols, or the music of the sea
That sleeps, a mimic echo, in the shell.
What brave soul would like to attack this first?
Julie
One of the problems with learning to critique others is our fear of hurting someone's feelings, or "getting it wrong."
Well, let's see if we can get beyond those two hangups with some exercises. The first one, hurting someone's feelings, won't be an issue because we will use poems from people who are either dead or otherwise immune to criticism.
The second one, which is the much higher hurdle, can only be overcome with practice. The more critiques you read (and write) the more you'll realize that there isn't really any such thing as "getting it wrong." Okay, it would be wrong if you called "Beowulf" haiku, but beyond that.
These exercises will not be for showing off. If you are comfortable critiquing the work of others, go crit in High or Merciless. This work is for those who are not yet comfortable and who need some basic pointers. The poems I will use may be familiar to some of you. I won't be using the names of the authors because that, too, can be intimidating. Many people might feel that you can't say anything negative about the works of a celebrated author, so we simply won't name the author. If you know the author, bravo, but keep it to yourself.
So, in light of that explanation, I'll post a poem below and in other threads. I'm going to do my best to help participants along, and anyone else is welcome to help explain some of the finer points of critique. If you feel like belittling someone's efforts, go away now.
On with the show!
My Voice
Within this restless, hurried, modern world
We took our hearts' full pleasure - You and I,
And now the white sails of our ship are furled,
And spent the lading of our argosy.
Wherefore my cheeks before their time are wan,
For very weeping is my gladness fled,
Sorrow has paled my young mouth's vermilion,
And Ruin draws the curtains of my bed.
But all this crowded life has been to thee
No more than lyre, or lute, or subtle spell
Of viols, or the music of the sea
That sleeps, a mimic echo, in the shell.
What brave soul would like to attack this first?
Julie