Did you know that April is National Poetry Month? Inaugurated by the Academy of American Poets in April 1996, it has become the largest literary celebration in the world. This is our 24th year of praising poetry in April. The poet and physician William Carlos Williams (1883 – 1963) expressed poetry’s value this way: “It is difficult / to get the news from poems / yet men die miserably every day / for lack / of what is found there.”
Poetry—an art form! Its condensed, image-filled language has been with us for eons, devised by skilled and inspired writers who’ve given (and still give) us nutrients for living. For writers, it enters our souls, invigorates our written output, and helps us grow. What poetry have you read lately? Yours truly is reading Claudia Rankine’s Don’t Let Me Be Lonely (Graywolf Press 2004). Rankin was a featured author at this year’s annual Winter with the Writers Literary Festival at Rollins College, Winter Park, Florida. The public is always invited to free master classes and evening readings.
George Herbert (1593 – 1633)
In honor of Poetry Month, let’s take a few minutes to salute a rather obscure poet to most of us today: George Herbert. Although Herbert lived four centuries ago, he’s a poet for our time … and any time. In a portion of one poem (it’s typed on a scrap of paper taped to my desk) he urges readers to engage in an activity that for writers goes with the territory.
To Be Alone
By all means use sometimes to be alone.
Salute thyself: see what thy soul doth wear.
Dare to look in thy chest, for ‘tis thine own:
And tumble up and down what thou find’st there.
Use sometimes to be alone
Despite the title of Rankin’s book, Don’t Let Me Be Lonely, suggesting isolation’s downsides, being alone is different. It helps focus our attention on the job at hand, which is a good thing if you’re a writer. Who can write around other people who need or demand attention? No one I know of. Laying out sentences or creating lines of poetry takes concentration and moments of undisturbed reflection.
Another benefit of taking time out to write alone: privacy. Am I the only one feels weird around others when talking aloud as I work? For instance, when writing a story, I tell myself things like: “No, not that word, find a synonym … did she really say that? … what was the weather like? … how did that engine sound?” I don’t want to inflict that on anyone drinking coffee at 8 a. m. in a café. Granted, some writers say they work well in crowded restaurants and noisy bars, but isolation, too, can be supportive when you want to “Dare to look in thy chest, for ‘tis thine own.” To capture spot-on words, fearless intuitions, and brilliant sentences from the ether, it often helps if we “use sometimes to be alone.”
Solitude bears fruit
Herbert’s published work offers us the fruit of his solitary labor. The Poetry Foundation’s website says:
“Herbert … did not consciously fashion an expansive literary career for himself, and his characteristic gestures, insofar as these can be gleaned from his poems and other writings, tend to be careful self-scrutiny rather than rhetorical pronouncement; … and complex, ever-qualified lyric contemplation rather than epic or dramatic mythmaking. This is the stuff of humility and integrity, not celebrity.”
From that we can imagine George Herbert practicing what he preached: writing about what he discovered in his innermost self, a regular exercise that gave way to his heart-catching line, “See what thy soul doth wear.” Let’s take his advice. More likely than not we’ll discover unique insights, images, and truths to share. We may even “tumble up and down” what leads to the kind of work Williams alluded to: life-saving. It may not always be easy, but make some time for being alone.
Charlene Edge
P. S. I submitted this post on March 10, 2020, before stay-at-home or isolation advisories were issued due to COVID-19. That accounts for the oddity of referring to writing in crowded cafes.
Take care, everyone!
Niki Kantzios
I’m with you 100% on the value of solitude. This safer-at-home moment has been very fruitful. Thanks for pointing it out (prophetically, it seems!).