JohnBoddie
11-22-2001, 11:45 AM
Woe is Hell
It is very difficult to write good poetry about depression and misery. Those who attempt it accept a significant challenge and it's hardly surprising that most poetry of this sort exhibits a dulling sameness. The difficulty springs from three factors:
The first factor has to do with the writer's and reader's experiences.
Paradoxically, poetry about depression and misery has the goal of bringing comfort to both the writer and the reader. The benefit to the writer is that he or she is given a means to express feelings that need release before they become overwhelming. The event of writing provides for some degree of introspection and may act to put the current problems into a larger perspective, or even trigger action to overcome them. It's not unusual to see author's comments that say, in effect, "I had to let this out before it kills me."
The benefit to the reader is the realization that one is not alone, that there are others who are in despair, possibly that there are others who suffer more than the reader. The reader's perspective may be changed for the better, but even the knowledge that one is not unique in his or her depression can bring a degree of comfort, of not being abandoned by the fates.
The second factor that makes writing about woe difficult has to do with the language.
It is difficult to find words to describe misery. The writer will have great difficulty in standing back from the circumstances that led to the poem so that inventive language can be found to convey emotions with clarity. As a result, abstractions are used to embrace the wide range of emotions that are difficult to classify with any precision. Cliches often appear as well. The reason is that both abstractions and cliches have a basis in common experience. If I write, "The morning dawned black, a perfect welcome …", the reader will have great difficulty understanding clearly what led to the statement, but will have little problem in identifying a general sense of foreboding. The problem is that the response will be, for the most part, a surface response. Abstractions and cliches seldom set the hook deep enough to create memorable poetry.
The third factor contributing to difficulty is that consideration of the reader's experience is usually missing.
The writer of poetry about depression, if he or she is miserable, will be writing introspectively, using words and images that are clear within the writer's context but which may convey little to the reader. Writing a poem that says, "I'm hurting" may have limited benefit for the reader (see the first point), but in most circumstances, the reader remains an observer of the author's condition. There will be little in the poem that the reader can assimilate so he or she can say, "Yes. That's how I feel but I never thought of it in quite this way." The goal of good poetry is to create that reaction whether the piece is about depression or joy. When the poem is introspective, the opening for the reader to make the poem his or her own are missing. The poem may be very meaningful for the author, but if it doesn't engage the reader, the poem has failed to reach an important objective.
Where can the author find good poetry on the subject of depression? There's no easy answer to this. Most of the well-crafted pieces of this genre I'm familiar with are done in formal verse - a difficult challenge for younger poets who feel misery so acutely. I offer an example of what is possible from Edna St. Vincent Millay:
Not in this chamber only at my birth -
When the long hours of that mysterious night
Were over, and the morning was in sight -
I cried, but in strange places, steppe and firth
I have not seen, through alien grief and mirth;
And never shall one room contain me quite
Who in so many rooms first saw the light,
Child of all mothers, native of the earth.
So is no warmth for me at any fire
Today, when the world's fire has burned so low;
I kneel, spending my breath in vain desire,
At that cold hearth which one time roared so strong:
And straighten back in weariness, and long
To gather up my little gods and go.
It is very difficult to write good poetry about depression and misery. Those who attempt it accept a significant challenge and it's hardly surprising that most poetry of this sort exhibits a dulling sameness. The difficulty springs from three factors:
The first factor has to do with the writer's and reader's experiences.
Paradoxically, poetry about depression and misery has the goal of bringing comfort to both the writer and the reader. The benefit to the writer is that he or she is given a means to express feelings that need release before they become overwhelming. The event of writing provides for some degree of introspection and may act to put the current problems into a larger perspective, or even trigger action to overcome them. It's not unusual to see author's comments that say, in effect, "I had to let this out before it kills me."
The benefit to the reader is the realization that one is not alone, that there are others who are in despair, possibly that there are others who suffer more than the reader. The reader's perspective may be changed for the better, but even the knowledge that one is not unique in his or her depression can bring a degree of comfort, of not being abandoned by the fates.
The second factor that makes writing about woe difficult has to do with the language.
It is difficult to find words to describe misery. The writer will have great difficulty in standing back from the circumstances that led to the poem so that inventive language can be found to convey emotions with clarity. As a result, abstractions are used to embrace the wide range of emotions that are difficult to classify with any precision. Cliches often appear as well. The reason is that both abstractions and cliches have a basis in common experience. If I write, "The morning dawned black, a perfect welcome …", the reader will have great difficulty understanding clearly what led to the statement, but will have little problem in identifying a general sense of foreboding. The problem is that the response will be, for the most part, a surface response. Abstractions and cliches seldom set the hook deep enough to create memorable poetry.
The third factor contributing to difficulty is that consideration of the reader's experience is usually missing.
The writer of poetry about depression, if he or she is miserable, will be writing introspectively, using words and images that are clear within the writer's context but which may convey little to the reader. Writing a poem that says, "I'm hurting" may have limited benefit for the reader (see the first point), but in most circumstances, the reader remains an observer of the author's condition. There will be little in the poem that the reader can assimilate so he or she can say, "Yes. That's how I feel but I never thought of it in quite this way." The goal of good poetry is to create that reaction whether the piece is about depression or joy. When the poem is introspective, the opening for the reader to make the poem his or her own are missing. The poem may be very meaningful for the author, but if it doesn't engage the reader, the poem has failed to reach an important objective.
Where can the author find good poetry on the subject of depression? There's no easy answer to this. Most of the well-crafted pieces of this genre I'm familiar with are done in formal verse - a difficult challenge for younger poets who feel misery so acutely. I offer an example of what is possible from Edna St. Vincent Millay:
Not in this chamber only at my birth -
When the long hours of that mysterious night
Were over, and the morning was in sight -
I cried, but in strange places, steppe and firth
I have not seen, through alien grief and mirth;
And never shall one room contain me quite
Who in so many rooms first saw the light,
Child of all mothers, native of the earth.
So is no warmth for me at any fire
Today, when the world's fire has burned so low;
I kneel, spending my breath in vain desire,
At that cold hearth which one time roared so strong:
And straighten back in weariness, and long
To gather up my little gods and go.