Hope For Poetry

 

Prafulla Kumar Mohanty

Long Years ago at the Allahabad University English Department in 1960 December (date is irretrievably buried in my fading memory) a Seminar was held on the subject; "Is there Any Hope for Poetry"? It was chaired by Professor Mehrotra, HOD and the revered guest was Professor Satish Chandra Deb, National Professor who was to quote Professor L.C. Knights in a Delhi International Seminar, "Professor's Professor". I was struck by the awe and admiration for Professor Deb shown by one and all present there. Only two papers were presented at the Seminar by two Oxonians, who had returned from England the same year. (Both were however, megabores and their originality, if any, was lost in their snobbish attitude and imitative stylized demeanor. I didn't mean any disrespect: Yet I have no respect for their names dropping scholarship.) Prof Deb in his address denigrated the entire range of modern poets, including T.S.Eliot. He had some praise for W.B.Yeats, His favourite was strangely, D.H. Lawrence. Prof Deb, I remember said, "The present day poetry or fiction is for the eyes only not for the mind or heart as literature has no moral impact on anyone." He blamed Eliot for making faith shaky, love unavailable, a 'torment', and society a clamorous whole denying human voice its authenticity.

 

During my long years of postgraduate programmes I like many others related poetry to the times; that is repeating the mirror idea. However I got over it very soon. One reads poetry not for an exam, one reads to make his life relevant to the world. I do not subscribe to the view of Kundera that "Man's world is a planet of inexperience." Inexperience is not a quality of human condition. This world is a book which man reads by his personal experience at three stages: Childhood, Youth, and Age. The series of experience leads to a few 'Truth constants' or may not show any truth value of anything. But this experience has a moral not in the ethical sense but in the aesthetic sense. Poetry leads the reader to truths of life, not the Truth, which I know does not exist. Since the birth of man generations have come to discover their truth. Often we do not know what truth is: the poet identifies truths for the truth- blind during his time. But this too is challengeable. What truth does the poet perceive? Homer, Valmiki, Vyasa, Shakespeare and Eliot have all turned to the classical truths of (1) Acceptance of a Superior Unknown (2) Submission to that unknown (3) Choice of one's own truths in the actual process of living. One has to choose to be brave, heroic or otherwise. One has to strike a balance between ethical transcendence of life and an earthly hedonistic life. Poetry has always done that. A classical surrender or a romantic agony was never accepted by a true reader. The changes come because the book remaining constant the readers change. The poets are the new readers of a generation, reinterpreting the phenomena as they change by the new knowledge. It is obvious that one taste and flavour, one truth, one centre or one path- physical and spiritual, can never remain unchanged.

 

The present day reader in the third decade of the 21st century has three major concerns: Political reality of the world vis a vis the 'insignificant' individual; Free human spirit and freedom of expression; right to question. The post Covid world will, however, face challenges to the right to dissent. China, Russia and most Muslim nations do not permit dissent of free speech and dissent are not tolerated. If a nationalist poet praises his country and culture the trolls have a field day. What democracy originally meant by freedom is now changed. The poet, filmmaker, story teller, painter and cartoonist claims unbridled freedom which is resisted by liberals, nonliberals and fanatics both political and religious.

 

'But the pity is' as E. M. Foster said on Sasthi Brata's first book 'like most young man Brata writes' - I may say, the pity is man still writes poetry. The social media poets are a dime a dozen. When I read the poems in the Facebook and Whats App and the thousands in Puja numbers of so called literary magazines I lose my taste for poetry. It seems lines of unequal length followed by exclamation marks and a few italics and capitals is poetry. The village lasses in the 18-19 century Odisha composed much more interesting songs than what the Facebook poets write. Poetry was always personal and intimate but it contained man and world in eternal conflict: the poet at times pointed a way out to avoid or accommodate the conflict. The 21st century poet makes the society his world. All his conflicts are artificial and Superfluous.  He has no larger reality, he is not bothered about the larger human reality, he is responsible for none which he includes himself. He shoots off a few lines without imagistic consistency, rhythmic beauty controlling his pen-wielding hand to a discipline of values. His anger, hate are rabid, rash; his love mostly skin deep is satisfied by popular moisturizers. If he gets a few thumbs up and comments of wow, wonderful, great, he starts lobbying for an award.

 

Yes, Prof Deb my vote is for you after sixty years of reading, writing, analyzing, teaching poetry of the past centuries and maturing contemporaries I agree with you  when you are gone and your world is transformed into a radical eco system of intolerance, dissent, defiance, rejection, aggression and tyranny. Poetry comes easy to people like body urges. Wordsworth was right when he said poetry is  a spontaneous outburst of powerful feelings: but he would have withdrawn it after experiencing the powerful feelings of hate, bigotry, religious intolerance and other baser unpoetic feelings.