The Troublesome Debate Around Poetry's 'Inherent' Elitism
At The Kenyon Review, an essay by Amit Majmudar titled "Elitism and American Poetry" plays well the old obscurity saw: "I believe that the attack is flawed–but I also think the defense is flawed. And this relates to the whole attitude toward the fact (and it is a fact) that very, very few Americans read poetry." Well:
Naturally most poets are vain and would prefer a mass audience to the approbation of a tiny elite. But the inherently elitist nature of written poetry is troublesome only in a society like ours, with its egalitarian ideals and respect for The People. Whitman was the first to see this dream (and the first to be disappointed—Leaves of Grass never had the effect on his countrymen that he had wished). In other, aristocratic societies, The People were considered “The Mob,” and its opinions were not revered as The Will of the People–but disdained as untrustworthy, fickle, and vulgar. This is a wholly different way of looking at the majority of one’s countrymen—not as people whose approval is to be written for, but as a mob to be written off.
This might seem like the quintessence of elitism, baldly articulated–the opposite of Whitman’s open-armed, open-hearted approach. But does it have to be? Contrast Dickinson, whose Soul selected “her own society” and “shut the door.” Dickinson, who sought out a handful of readers in her lifetime–a few friends and family members and Thomas Wentworth Higginson and that was it.
Only elitism of poetry makes possible this poetic intimacy. As a poet, you transmit at a certain frequency, and even the other poetry-lovers out there often aren’t on that exact frequency. But out of every hundred people, there might be one person who is receiving on that exact frequency; you have made a connection, sometimes a connection for life. The poet has found a reader. The reader has found a poet.
A practicing poet cutivates a literary intimacy with his or her devoted readers that may not be different in intensity than what fans feel for the pop icon. But the difference lies on the artist’s end—those readers mean more to you. The feeling is mutual. That isn’t the case with pop icons, no matter how many public demonstrations Taylor Swift stages (and records, and posts) with her fans. There are just too many people out there in that stadium; and many are quite willing to scream for the next star, and the next.
Keep at it at The Kenyon Review.