Chapter 12
Section 12 of Literature in the Making by Some of Its Makers. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Timothy Ferguson. Literature in the Making by Some of Its Makers.
Sixteen don'ts for poets. By Joyce Kilmer and Arthur Goiterman. Arthur Goiterman has been called the Owen Seaman of America. Of course he isn't, any more than Owen Seaman is the Arthur Goitemann of England. But the verse which brings Arthur Goitemann his daily bread is turned no less deftly than is that
of Punch's famous editor. Arthur Goitemann is not a humorist who writes verse, he is a poet with an abundant gift of humor. Now, the author of The Antiseptic Baby and the Prophylactic Pup, and The Quest of the Ribbon, and of those unforgettable rhymed reviews, differs from most other poets not only in possessing an abnormally developed sense of humour, but also in being able to make a comfortable living out of the sale of his verse. But when he talked to me recently,
he was by no means inclined to advise all able young poets to expect their poetry to provide them with board and lodging. Of course, it is possible to make a living out of verse, he said. What Mason does, and so does Burton Braleigh, and now most of my income comes from verse. Formally, I wrote short stories, but I haven't written one for seven or eight years. Nevertheless, I think it is inadvisable for anyone to set out with the idea of depending
on the sale of verse as a means of livelihood. You see, there are, after all, two forms and only two forms of literary expression, the prose form and the verse form. Some subjects suit the prose form, others suit the verse form. anyone who makes writing his profession has ideas severally adapted to both of these forms and
every writer should be able to express his idea in whichever of these two forms suits it better now the verse form is older than the prose form and so i have come to look upon it as the form peculiarly attractive to youth many writers outgrew the tendency to use the verse form but some never outgrew it so walter scott was a verse writer before he was a prose writer and so was Shakespeare. So were many modern writers, Robert W. Chambers, for example.
This theory is true, especially in regard to lyric verse. The lyric is nearly always the work of a young man. As a man grows older, he sings less and preaches more. Certainly this was true of Milton. I never thought that I should write verse for a living, but verse happens to be the medium that I love. I ran across my first poem the other day. It was about fireflies and I was eight years old when I wrote it. Certainly nearly all writers write
verse before they write prose. Perhaps it is atavistic. I don't know that Henry James began with verse, but I would be willing to bet that he did. One trouble with a great many people who make a living out of writing verse is that they feel obliged, always, to be verse writers, never to write prose, even when the subject demands that medium. Alfred Noyes gives us an example of this unfortunate tendency in his Drake. I'm not disparaging Alfred Noyes's work. He has written
charming lyrics, but in Drake, and perhaps in some of the Tales from the Mermaid Tavern, I feel that he has written verse not because the subject was especially suited to that medium, but because he felt that he was a verse writer and therefore should not write prose. Mr. Goiteman is firmly convinced, however, that a verse writer ought to be able, in time, to make a living out of his work. If a man calls himself a writer, he said, he ought to be able to make a living out of
writing, and I think that the writer of verse has a greater opportunity today than ever before. I don't mean to say that the appreciation of poetry is more intense than ever before, but it is more general. More people are reading poetry now than in bygone generations. Compare with the traditions that we have today, those of the early 19th century, of the time of Byron and Sir Walter Scott. Then, books of verse sold in large quantities, it is true,
but to a relatively small public, to one class of readers. Now, not only the poet, but also the verse writer, has an enormous public. If a really great poet should arise today, he would find awaiting him a larger public than that known by any poet of the past. But it would be necessary for the poet to be great for him to find this public. Byron would be more generally appreciated today if he were to live again than he was in his own generation i mention byron because i think it
probable that the next great poet will have something of byron's dynamic quality who was the last great poet i asked how is one to decide whether or not a poet is great asked mr goiterman in turn my own feeling is that the late william vaughn moody was a great poet in the making perhaps he never really fulfilled his early promise perhaps he went back to the themes of bygone ages too much in finding themes for his poetry it may be that the next really great poet
will sing an entirely different strain it may be that i will be one of those who will say that his work is all bosh but at any rate he won't be an imitation whitman or anything of that sort he won't be any special school nor will he think that he is founding a school but it may be that his admirers will found a school with him as its leader and they may force him to take himself seriously and thus ruin himself. Returning to the subject of the advisability for writer being able
to express himself in verse as well as in prose, Mr. Goetheman said, especially in our generation, it is true that good verse requires extreme condensation. In most work today, brevity is desirable. The epigram beats the epic. If Milton were living today, he would not write epics. I don't think it improbable that we have men with Miltonic minds and they are not writing epics. if a man finds that he cannot express his idea in verse more forcefully than he can in prose
he ought to write prose very often a writer is interested in some little incident which would not be justified in treating in prose something too slight to be the theme of a short story this is the sort of thing which he should put into verse there is lee hunt's jenny kissed me for example suppose he had made a short story of it thinking of this poet's financial success I asked him just what course he would advise a young poet to pursue who had no means of livelihood
except writing. Well, the worst thing for him to do, said Mr. Gleiterman, would be to devote all his attention to writing an epic. He'd starve to death. I suppose the best thing for him to do would be to write on as many subjects as possible, including those of intense interest to himself. What interests him intensely is sure to interest others, and the number of others whom it interests will depend on how close he is by nature to the mind of his place and time.
He should get some sort of regular work so that he need not depend at first upon the sale of his writings. This work need not necessarily be literary in character, although it would be advisable for him to get employment in a magazine or newspaper office, so he may get in touch with the conditions governing the sale of manuscripts. He should write on themes suggested by the day's news.
He should write topical verse, if there's a political campaign on. He should write verse bearing upon that. If a great catastrophe occurs, he should write about that. But he must not write on these subjects in a commonplace manner. He should send his verses to the daily papers, for they are the publications most interested
in topical verse. But also he should attempt to sell his work to the magazines which pay better prices than the newspapers. If it is in him to do so, he should write humorous verse. For there is always a good market for humorous verse that is worth printing.
He should look up publishers of holiday cards and submit to them Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter verses, for which he would receive probably about five dollars apiece. He should write advertising verses and should perhaps make an alliance with some artist with whom he can work, each supplementing the work of the other. Mr. Goiterman, I said, is this the advice you would give to John Keats if he were to
ask you? Yes, certainly, said Mr. Goiterman, but you understand that our hypothetical poet must all the time be doing his own work. writing the sort of verse which he specially desires to write. If his pot-boiling is honestly done, it will help him with his other work.
He must study the needs and limitations of various publications. He must recognise the fact that just because he has certain powers, it does not follow that everything he writes will be desired by the editors. Marked ability and market ability are different propositions. If he finds that the magazines are not printing sad sonnets,
he must not write sad sonnets. he must adapt himself to the demands of the day there is high precedent for this course you asked if i would give this advice to young keats why not when shakespeare himself followed the line of action of which i spoke he began as a lyric poet a writer of sonnets he wrote plays because he saw that demand was for plays and because he wanted to make a living and more than a living
but because he was shakespeare his plays are what they are the poet must be influenced by the demand there is inspiration in the demand besides the material reward the poet who is influenced by the demand has the encouraging inspiring knowledge that he is writing something that people want to read i asked mr goiteman to give me a list of negative commandments for the guidance of aspiring poets here it is don't think of yourself as a poet and don't dress the part don't classify
yourself as a member of any special school or group. Don't call your quarters a garret or a studio. Don't frequent exclusively the company of writers. Don't think of any class of work that you feel moved to do as either beneath you or above you. Don't complain of lack of appreciation. In the long run, no really good published work can escape appreciation. Don't think you are entitled to any special rights, privileges and immunities as a literary person or have any more
reason to consider your possible lack of fame a grievance against the world than has any shipping clerk or travelling salesman. Don't speak of poetic license or believe there is any such thing. Don't tolerate in your own work any flaws in rhythm, rhyme, melody or grammar. Don't use air forever or oa for over when as or what time for when or any of the poetical commonplaces of the past do not say did go for went even if you need the extra syllable don't omit articles or
prepositions for the sake of the rhythm don't have your book published at your own expense by any house that makes a practice of publishing at the author's expense don't write poems about unborn babies don't don't write hymns to the great god pan he is dead let him rest in peace don't write what everybody else is writing end of section 12 recording by timothy ferguson gold coast australia
