In Praise of Dull Lines

[sheenaghpugh]

Just a personal thought. A poem, to my mind, is or should be an organic whole. That being so, it doesn't actually exist on the lyric heights for the whole of its length; it has peaks and troughs. Every line does not coruscate at you, jumping up and down shouting "notice me!" There are quiet, unremarkable lines, which swell up like waves under the surface of the sea until they foam over into something brilliant. These are lines which can easily be rubbished by a careless reviewer, who will point out the "boring" or "predictable" language, but in fact they are paving the way for what comes next. Try for yourself quoting brilliant, memorable single lines from a poem. Do they work outside their context? Would you not often feel impelled to quote the few lines before, to show where they emerged from, what they convey: why, in short, they are so brilliant and memorable?
Now there's a type of poem much written and admired, in fact often known informally as a "competition poem", which does try to make every line a peak. It isn't an organic whole; it is a series of flashy, notice-me lines which don't obviously grow from the poem. I don't care for these poems, finding them shouty and ultimately unmemorable because they are trying too hard to be unforgettable. But there's another thing, connected with the fact that these lines don't seem to grow naturally from the poem. They don't seem to come from anywhere, and paradoxically when a line doesn't come from anywhere, it COULD actually come from anywhere, including where it shouldn't. In fact, when marking student work, this kind of poem rings alarm bells. There might be all sorts of reasons for derivative work, but I'll put forward the notion that thinking in terms of fine phrases, knockout lines, moments rather than whole poems, might be one of them.

Comments

[steepholm.livejournal.com]

I don't know enough about "competition poems" to comment on that, but I quite agree overall.

That's not of course to say that some dull lines aren't just dull: context won't save them all. But it makes me wonder whether Wordsworth's "two voices" (as in the J. K. Stephens poem) weren't just one voice after all. Many of his most famous lines grow limp as cut flowers when plucked from their soil. In place, they dance.

[justwolf.livejournal.com]

I often think that if all the lines are extraordinary and shouting for your attention then they begin to all seem banal. There needs to be contrast--like you say, context for the really good lines.