'Weltschmerz, Loss, Lust, Irony, Old Age'

I almost forgot: it’s National Poetry Month. Time to get a haircut, put on a clean shirt and read some poetry. 

“Launched by the Academy of American Poets in April 1996, National Poetry Month is a special occasion that celebrates poets’ integral role in our culture and that poetry matters,” the Academy explains with puzzling grammar. There’s even a poster with a gnomic message: “. . . we were all meant for something.” The working assumption is that poetry is good for us, even therapeutic, healing, and reading it is virtuous. In his sermon, Mark Doty says: “Poetry’s work is to make people real to us through the agency of the voice.” Huh?

 

Dick Davis, the English-born American poet, takes on the “usefulness” of poetry in “Farewell to the Mentors” (Belonging, 2002):

 

“Old bachelors to whom I’ve turned

For comfort in my life,

I find you less than useful now

I’ve children and a wife;

 

“And though you’re great on Weltschmerz, loss,

Lust, irony, old age,

I draw a blank when looking for

Advice on teenage rage;

 

“On sibling rivalry and rows

I can’t begin to rate you,

You’re silent when it comes to screams

Of ‘Dad, I really hate you.’

 

“So get you gone Fitz., Edgar, Wystan,

And dear old Housman too,

It’s clear that at this juncture I

Need other guides than you.”

 

Davis has some fun with the narcissistic school of poetry reading – those readers who prefer “guides” (in this case, parenting tips) over the gifts of Edward Fitzgerald (of Rubáiyát fame), Edgar Bowers, W.H. Auden and A.E. Housman. In his poem “In Praise of Auden” (Touchwood, 1996), Davis lauds the poet for “the fun / You so generously heap on our platters.”