. . . is an interesting post over at Harriet. D.A. Powell brings to our attention the question of poetry readings. I'm always excited to see certain poets read, because I am always entertained or deeply moved: Gerald Stern and James Tate are two of my favorites. I think they certainly fit the "poet greats" category. Every semester when it comes time for Writer's Week and I have to send my young and impressionable students out to see their first reading, I always balk. It's instinctive. Will all of my energy and enthusiasm for the written word die upon the proverbial boring poetry reading? Well, cripes. It can't always go well. I've been bored at readings before. But not for lack of depth or anything. Usually the boredom is a result of poorly planned events. Ten readers in two hours is enough to bore anyone. Or one reader for over forty minutes is pushing it. (Unless we're talking about a reader who likes to pontificate and happens to be gifted at doing so.)
It seems that there should be a happy medium in all this. Everyone has an off night. I'm willing to hear a poet twice before judging. But after that the judgment will be swift and mocking.
Lots of writing going on, but they are all starts. Half starts. No ends. No middles. No real progress. Just a lot of . . . potentialities.
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