A LETTER TO MADELINE BRUMBY
ABOUT THE LAUGHING MONKEYS OF GRAVITY

27 October 2003

Dear Madeline–

Thanks for your thoughtful email. I can’t possibly do it justice, but I’ll try to respond to some of the issues you bring up. First of all, I think a good poem must be honest. Honesty is what connects heart and head. Honesty is what teaches, not the poet. Everyone has “something” to say, but I think what makes a poem compelling is that it rides the back of a wind that is more powerful than any particular ego or any particular content. If a poet catches that wind, fine. If not, then the poem’s merely a piece of pretty propaganda. I’d also add that many bad poets (and bad readers, as well) confuse honesty with sincerity. They’re not the same. You can be very sincere, but tell (and believe) a lie. Real honesty’s a lot tougher than that.

As to vaudeville being satirical, I’m not sure. I see vaudeville as a succession of songs, dances, skits, etc. in the old music hall tradition. Each individual section of the title poem embodies various bits of comic business (the bricks falling on Oliver Hardy’s head, the Tramp caught in the machine or trapped by the Big Waiter, etc.) that I try to examine as variations on the human situation. If you flip comedy, I think you’ll also find tragedy. Being trapped in a lion’s cage can be funny when seen in a certain way, but it’s also about not having your friends nearby to help you out of a jam, which is, in itself, another form of death.

As to rhythm, it’s very important to me. I try for a conversational rhythm, but I also find myself composing lines as if they were musical phrases. What appears free, I can tell you, is often the outcome of a long struggle to find the right formal sound. And every poem has its own sound. One wrong note (word), and, in my view, the poem fails. This is the hardest part of the process and relates to the point about honesty. A good poet taps into the power of language to take us out to the edge and surprise us and then bring us back to the center and reassure us. Language does this better than film or any other art that I know because it goes deeper and lasts longer and seems to tell us more about ourselves. At least that’s the way I see it, being a film teacher, too. Words wake us up, while film makes us think we’re dreaming when, in fact, we’re not.

I hope this helps. When you finish your project, I’d be honored to see a copy of it.

Best,

Steve Bluestone