Song of a Reformed Headhunter

T. S. Eliot, when persuading Moore to republish Observations with the addition of a small number of new poems, offered a useful guideline on deciding what makes up a "book" of poetry: The point at which one has "enough" for a book (of verse) is not a quantitative matter alone: it comes at the end of a paragraph, or chapter, however short; it's a question of form. One only has not enough, when one feels that the poems written require the cooperation of certain poems not yet written, in order to be themselves quite. The paragraph, or chapter, metaphor suggests that a book of verse should have a completed shape, not necessarily a narrative arc, but whatever is proposed at the beginning of the paragraph or chapter would have been developed to some satisfying (Moore would have said, joyful) conclusion. Demanding as the metaphor may sound, it is also liberating, for a paragraph or a chapter is not the whole book, is not the whole work of a lifetime. There is time and...

I've just finished reading Stapleton's chapter on Moore as a literary reviewer. In discussing Moore's approach, Stapleton says something very true and just of the task of a literary critic: For a critic to praise justly, and without exaggeration, is hard; it may be harder still, when praise is due, to make it relevant-- to make it mean anything specific in reference, and specifically alive in statement. This difficult art goes to the root of criticism. For praise that counts is not encomium, is certainly not compliment, but attempts identification. It no longer adds a mere plus (or when not bestowed, a minus sign); it ceases to refer primarily to the writer, and becomes the predicate attaching itself to the work in question. Because Marianne Moore exemplifies the reserve and the "immunity to fear" of the true writer, her praise of the work she admires suggests the outline of her poetics. [bold emphasis mine] The predicate metaphor is beautifully apt. The liter...

Moore: "The individuality and emotion of the writer should transcend modes. I recall feeling over-solitary occasionally (say in 1912)--in reflecting no 'influences'; to not be able to be called an 'imagist'--but determined to put the emphasis on what mattered most to me, in a manner natural to me" (in a broadcast on American poetry). Earlier in the same broadcast, Moore said, "rhythm was my prime objective. If I succeeded in embodying a rhythm that preoccupied me, I was satisfied."

Good article in The Believer . Tricia's blog alerted me to it.