Poets and Legislators

Over dinner this evening, some friends and I were discussing politics: international, national, provincial, local – at every level. Somehow I must have been more eloquent or persuasive than usual. I was challenged, “If you’ve got so many brilliant ideas, why don’t you run for office and do something with them?” And then followed the reference that made me stop to think a little deeper than usual. “After all, didn’t some English poet say you guys are the unacknowledged legislators of the world?”

Oh yes. Shelley’s remark at the end of his ‘A Defence of Poetry’ taken out of context again, and misrepresented. How could anyone take that term seriously? Poets don’t make rules; they’re more likely to break rules.

Even when poets had standing with the chiefs of a tribe or head of a community, they acted as advisers, never as lawgivers. Even today, with the new trend to ‘poets laureate’ any advice they are asked to give has nothing to do with the formulation of laws, only with what may make politicians look good to their constituents. The stuff of poetry, the words and ideas, are only fans and feathers misdirecting attention from the naked dance of money. For most of the time.

That’s the reason I always give, and have for a long time. What I really mean is that I can’t see my words and ideas attracting enough financial support to gain office. And furthermore, words and ideas mean nothing against cash and reputation. Personally, I can neither sell my visions nor prostitute myself.

That doesn’t mean that poets are useless. Poets are idealists, dreamers, seers. More than any others they can imagine what can and should be. The problem, as always, is to persuade the knowledgeable legislators to seek their advice and try to make it reality.

Words and Pictures

The old saying goes,"A picture is worth a thousand words." How do you compare the value of words with the value of pictures?

A short time ago I bought myself a painting. For several reasons. First, it speaks to me; it has a sense about it that connects the two of us, my self and the painting. That sense is intrinsic and has little to do with the artist. I don't know her, have never met her. Second, after loooking at it on the gallery wall several times, then taking some time to inspect it closely I felt something intimate towards it, a need to take it home and live with it. Third, the price was right, something I could afford.

And that brings me to the question currently on my mind. How do artists put a price on their work? Materials + labour + time and then what about the idea, the craft, research - whether specific for this or just general to the work? Is there a measure of self-valuation, of other-valuation?

"A picture is worth a thousand words." Could I sell a thousand words on the open market and make enough to buy the picture? As an article, a review, or should it, too, be artistic: a short story, a long poem, a series or collection of poems? Does it matter if I collect the poems in a book, sell a number of copies of the book to purchase an uncopied painting?

No, let the questions chase themselves.

Because of intangible and incalculable things about the painting, I was willing to pay the price asked. It had nothing to do (for me) with "worth." Similarly when I sell my poetry, I hope it goes to someone who has a special appreciation for the poems no matter what I put into them.

And then we cut our creations loose to exist without us, in someone else's care.

The Recession and Poetry

This year's Acorn-Plantos Award for People's Poetry (which I administer) saw the number of books entered dwindle significantly, by such a number that I had to consider seriously whether we were doing something wrong or whether the decline (in numbers only? in interest also?) was part of a process we could not control.

I believe part of the fault lies with our publicity. We seem to rely a little too much on word of mouth dissemination of information. I get e-mails that "our" website carries out of date information. (We have no website; somone has published the info on theirs and not updated it.) I have had queries, replied to them, and then nothing follows.

Another member of the committee brought up the fact that most small presses, the ones that publish poetry, are experiencing difficulties due to the current economic downturn. Some have stopped publishing, many have cut down on the number of titles they produce.

I believe it's probably a combination of both. Next year, if the Acorn-Plantos Award is to remain viable, a more vigorous approach to soliciting entries must be undertaken. Let's hope the economy has strengthened and we are healthy and free to expend some energy on promotion.

I take some comfort in the fact that all disciplines of the arts are suffering. In uncertain economic times it seems the arts are the most vulnerable. It is difficult to explain truth and beauty to an empty stomach and a burdened mind.

Money for Poems

This week the annual Griffin Prizes for poetry were handed out: fifty thousand dollars to a Canadian poet and fifty thousand to an American (international) poet. Who won isn't as important as the fact that the prize exists, exists to draw attention to the art. It places a top hat on the bundle of rags on the street corner with its Hortons cup extended: Spare change, mister?

There is no poet in this land who can earn fifty thousand a year just by writing and selling poems. As prolific as he may be, however fruitful his labours, he lives by teaching, lecturing, working at other aspects of living with his hands or his mind to put cash in his pocket and credit in his account. An artist puts a price on the painting he offers for sale; if someone likes it, it will sell at that price. Musicians tour and play at rates set by their unions. Professional actors must work for scale. And literature ...

Literature. There are usually markets of all kinds that pay for short stories. With enough time and energy a good novel can be sold and published. Non-fiction and biographies are never out of the public interest. And then there's poetry. When is the last time you paid a dollar or two for a poem that impressed you?

So, how do we value poetry, place a price on an individual poem? I can remember that when I was younger I would pay the price for a complete volume of poetry just because I had heard or read one of the poems. In the same way, I would buy complete albums of music just because I heard and liked one song. No more. And no more mimeographed poems for a dollar a piece; no more four colour poster-sized illustrated poems for ten. The market we hoped existed was even more ephemeral than the foggy dew.

In poetry there is no trickle down effect. You don't hang a bright light in your garden and tell your plants, Reach for that goal. You water and feed and fertilize all the things growing in that garden and work toward greatness. To create a tall plant, you develop and stimulate the roots.

We don't need fifty thousand dollar prizes so much as the simple act of paying an artist for his work. If you hear or read one moving poem, buy the book. If it has not been published, offer the poet a dollar or two for a typed or hand written copy. He'll be thrilled. Besides, that's where the money should be going.