M A R G I E  The American Journal of Poetry     www.margiereview.com

Published Annually in the Fall                                     MARGIE  P. O. BOX 250, CHESTERFIELD, MO 63006-0250

CHAUTAUQUA

BRIAN TAYLOR

The Intelligent Poet's Checklist:

The Details of Self-Criticism

Asked to give advice to novice poets, T. S. Eliot said, “Above all be very intelligent.” I do not interpret this to mean that one should be intellectual, though Eliot was that if nothing else. I take it to mean that one should bring to one’s poem one’s full critical awareness—perhaps by asking questions such as these:

1. STRUCTURE & COMPLEXITY: Is the poem complete? Does it have a striking opening, a fascinating development, a satisfactory conclusion? Does the poem take the reader on an interesting journey and leave him or her with something to think about?

2. FULLNESS: Are there parts of the poem that are under-developed: should something be added? Are there parts that are over-developed: could something be taken away without great loss, and would taking it away make reading more eventful, more exciting? If there is repetition, does it reinforce, or is it redundant?

3. SYNTAX: Does the syntactical structure of the poem express the drama of unfolding ideas and images? Is the relative length and complexity of each sentence appropriate? Does the syntax show relationships—similarities and parallels, contrasts, logical dependencies? Are important words given prominence at the beginning or ending of sentences or by being the subject or verb of an independent clause? Are minor ideas subordinated syntactically? Are the conventions of grammar and punctuation taken into account and used— or deliberately misused—to advantage?

4. IMAGERY & DICTION: Have images been used to evoke a unique situation, setting, or attitude? Are the images sharp and clear, and are they expressed in words that draw the right kind—and the right degree—of attention to them? Is the language neither conspicuously trite nor distractingly weird? Have both the exact denotations of words and all their common or traditional connotations been taken into account?  Does the relationship between one image and the next work constructively? Is the effect of discordant juxtaposition of images calculated? Are image-chains developed to give the poem a desired unity or irony? Do extended analogies or metaphors bear with examination? Does figurative language provoke a fresh way of looking at something? Is the diction—colloquial, elevated, lyrical, etc—appropriate for the drama of the poem and for the expression of your attitude or feelings?

5. METER & RHYTHM: Are the interests of the poem best served by its having—or not having­—a recognizable meter? If there is meter, is it consistent? If there are irregularities, do they create a desirable drama? Do the length of each line and its rhythm contribute to the dramatic movement of the poem or to some visual pattern on the page? Is there the right degree of tension between meter and the natural rhythms of syntax? Should the whole poem or should certain lines be more rigidly metrical (i.e. more lyrical) or less (i.e. more prosaic or dramatic)? Do the line-breaks in either metrical or free verse occur when a reader can make a hiatus, preferably for dramatic effect, either after a significant word or—in the case of enjambment—before one at the beginning of the next line? Is spacing between stanzas or strophes used with similar effect? In brief, does the layout on the page facilitate a meaningful “performance” of the poem?

6. EUPHONY: Are words chosen and phrases put together so that the sounds of the language contribute to its intended impact? Are harmonious or discordant ideas and images expressed with appropriately harmonious or discordant verbal sounds? If the poem uses a regular rhyme-pattern, does every rhyming word work? If there are half-rhymes or other forms of verbal echoing, do they fall in the right place, linking in sound words that are linked in sense—rather than linked for the sake of a euphony that has no significance?

If you can answer these questions to your satisfaction, you have every right to feel happy with your poem—at least from a technical point of view. You may be less than satisfied for other reasons, but at least you will know the poem is competent. All poets “grow out of” some of their most competent poems, so perhaps your vague misgivings are merely a signal that you have changed and are ready to write the next poem. If you can’t answer any one of these questions, your satisfaction with your poem is perhaps unjustified. But I could be wrong. Happy accidents do occur in writing poetry, but it’s not very intelligent to hope that such accidents happen often—they are more likely to happen when one is trained well and has had plenty of experience. Put no faith in beginner's luck!