Poetry Overload.
Love it or hate it, there are more poets today in the States than ever before, and almost certainly more poetry collections published each year. (Donald Hall has a good essay that touches on this—among other things—here.) Wading through this veritable sea of poetry can make one almost forget that there are legions of poets across the pond, as well as in Canada, Mexico, and so on. And the same is true for fiction writers, non-fiction writers, and so on.
With that said, all too often, American writers know almost nothing about the work happening in their genre overseas. (I wonder if the same is true for poets in England, say?)
While that’s certainly understandable (there’s only so much time to read—and how exactly does one track all this writing down?), it’s a shame, as we’re missing out on work that could no doubt help advance our own work.
An example: Whenever I read poetry in translation, the writer is almost invariably long since dead (Rilke, Lorca, etc.) It’s often difficult to find contemporary poetry (or literature, generally) in translation, as it requires a somewhat rare combination of skills to produce—an eye for good work, timing, foreign language skills, a capable translator, and the wherewithal to get the book published and out to the general public in relatively short order.
When I think of someone who embodies all of this, I think of Robert Bly. Bly is probably his generation’s best translation talent scout, and he’s one hell of a translator too (especially in the Scandinavian languages). In his magazines The Fifties, The Sixties, and The Seventies, he introduced the American poetry world to a whole slew of international poets that were still living, including Thomas Tranströmer, Pablo Neruda, not to mention a whole crew of up-and-coming Americans.
So who’s the Robert Bly of this generation, in this respect? What do you know about the international scene in your genre? Are you aware of what’s shaking across the pond? Do you care one way or the other? Should we care?
Finally, I did a little digging and I’ve got two nifty (and still young!) poets to let the planet know about.
Durs Grünbein is a German poet and he’s got a pretty great essay online at The Poetry Foundation’s website.
Dag Straumsvåg is a Norwegian poet and he’s a damn riot. Without question, he’s one of the finest prose poets on the planet—I’d love to see a literary death-match between him and Russell Edson. You can see some of his work in Willow Springs, among other places.
As a last note, as I mentioned in comment a while back, there’s a great reading by Russell Edson on Joe Milford’s Poetry Show. BTW, Willow Springs’ former poetry editor Jeremy Halinen was also featured on another show.
Brazil’s top exports: oil, music, and poetry. If you’ve never read Carlos Drummond de Andrade (granted, he’s deceased, but his parking space read “Poet”) or any other Brazilian poets, you’re missing out. Bishop translated a ton–probably Bandeira, Leminski. If I had a better background in poetry than history, this list would be more current, like:
1 Haroldo de Campos. Sobre finismundo: A ultima viagem (About World Endings: The Final Voyage). 1990.
2 Affonso Romano de Sant’Anna. O lado esquerdo do meu peito (The Left Side of My Chest). 1993.
3 Ivan Junqueira. A sagracao dos ossos (The Consecration of the Bones). 1994.
4 Carlos Nejar. Arca da Alianca (Arch of the Alliance). 1995.
5 Thiago de Mello. De uma vez por todas (Once and for All). 1996.
6 Manoel de Barros. Livro sobre nada (A Book About Nothing). 1996.
7 Guilherme Mansur. O verao dentro do peito (The Summer Inside…
Sweet, thanks for the list. Bishop did some Carlos Drummond de Andrade too, if I remember. I remember reading her translations of him.
Would it be prudent for me to point out that of the six professors of English at my undergraduate school, all of them knew at least two languages and two of them knew four? And yet only two of my fellow graduates of ’06 spoke anything but English? (I know, the age difference. But as far as I know most of those professors’ study of languages was done in their formative years.)
It would seem that with the ability to communicate globally we would be more inclined to be multilingual. Perhaps I am citing too small a sample size.
In other words, the only great writers I know from overseas are dead or in their 70s. But I’m also not very up on contemporary literature in America, frankly.
I’d recommend Tony Harrison from the North of England.