Well, I blame a 10th-grade love affair with Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnets From The Portuguese for the entire trajectory of my creative life. So, pro-sonnet. Yours is lovely and so deeply personal. Thank you.
{Curious: sometimes your sonnet appears lineated, else-times it's not and looks like a little prose box. Oh well. A good sonnet can survive any formatting.} There's no question that I'm in the pro-sonnet camp. And I'm also in the pro-Chuck's sonnets camp; I think you handle the form well and provide ample evidence that Mr. Bok is just a provocateur who's primary complaint probably derives from his personal inability to write a decent sonnet. Don't get me wrong: Bok is a great writer and I'm a huge fan of his constrained writings, but c'mon, man, who gets to decide when a form has been overused? If I claim that lipograms are all washed up and besides Georges Perec pretty much wrote the ultimate one (La disparition) so what's the point in keeping "Eunoia" in print, would anyone listen? I would hope not, because I'd obviously be just doing a Bok-provoc move. But, I mean, what's next? No more haiku? I mean, that form has been in use for at least as long as sonnets. Remember: initially, the sonnet was brand new, it was an experimental form, and then, as time went on and it continued to work, it developed into a tradition, a fixed strategy that consistently produced quality art. So, what does Bok have against tradition? Particularly, when some of those traditions continue to work, and work well? I keep trying to come up with a punchy analogy to demonstrate how silly Bok's dismissal of the sonnet is: Oh, you know, the polio vaccine has been way too successful, and aren't we kind of tired of how well it works? It's so boring after years and years of no polio, so why don't we try something else? Something NEW. Because obviously, being NEW beats the same old same old. Eh, probably not, but maybe . . . . . .?
Well, I blame a 10th-grade love affair with Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnets From The Portuguese for the entire trajectory of my creative life. So, pro-sonnet. Yours is lovely and so deeply personal. Thank you.
{Curious: sometimes your sonnet appears lineated, else-times it's not and looks like a little prose box. Oh well. A good sonnet can survive any formatting.} There's no question that I'm in the pro-sonnet camp. And I'm also in the pro-Chuck's sonnets camp; I think you handle the form well and provide ample evidence that Mr. Bok is just a provocateur who's primary complaint probably derives from his personal inability to write a decent sonnet. Don't get me wrong: Bok is a great writer and I'm a huge fan of his constrained writings, but c'mon, man, who gets to decide when a form has been overused? If I claim that lipograms are all washed up and besides Georges Perec pretty much wrote the ultimate one (La disparition) so what's the point in keeping "Eunoia" in print, would anyone listen? I would hope not, because I'd obviously be just doing a Bok-provoc move. But, I mean, what's next? No more haiku? I mean, that form has been in use for at least as long as sonnets. Remember: initially, the sonnet was brand new, it was an experimental form, and then, as time went on and it continued to work, it developed into a tradition, a fixed strategy that consistently produced quality art. So, what does Bok have against tradition? Particularly, when some of those traditions continue to work, and work well? I keep trying to come up with a punchy analogy to demonstrate how silly Bok's dismissal of the sonnet is: Oh, you know, the polio vaccine has been way too successful, and aren't we kind of tired of how well it works? It's so boring after years and years of no polio, so why don't we try something else? Something NEW. Because obviously, being NEW beats the same old same old. Eh, probably not, but maybe . . . . . .?
This is the greatest, and you've definitely convincevd me. I will say, I love "Eunoia," no matter how proud of it he is.
yes. sonnets are cool
I agree. Some of my favorites are those that I've read a number of times before realizing, "Wait, that's a sonnet!"
I love this poem. It tells such a story.
Thanks so much! Much appreciated, especially the comment about story--I tend to be a narrative writer when it comes to poetry.