April Poetry Discussion - the Raw Material of Words (and poetry is not just for poets)

Working with the fourth section of A Poet's Craft

Raw Material of Rocks—Capitol Reef Park, Utah, April 2023

These rocks had such a sense of “surround” as I walked through. Writing feels to loom at times; words loom in the depths of work. In the title I’ve added words about poetry not being for poets alone, and hope fiction and nonfiction writers read this post, too.

I usually post the poetry discussion within the first week of the month, and apologize for the tardiness! As you know, if you’re a regular reader, I’ve been on the road through USA National Parks; I left A Poet’s Craft behind at home, being the tome it is.

Chapter four is “The Raw Material: Words and Their Roots,” and in these pages Annie Finch takes apart the languages that have shaped “English.”

Elsewhere, I’ve shared my thoughts on the basic elements of writing. “Words” are a basic, yes. “Choice”—to my mind—even more so. Ultimately, we have to choose between our words to shape and create. This word-focused chapter becomes about choice—the why/how and the effects of. It’s also about going below the surface. In many ways it’s about pre-writing, and writing around. Honestly? It may seem like a corner you can cut. But I’ll argue otherwise.

Who needs all this? Can’t we just write?

We live in a rushed world

Writing is the one art form that almost anyone can pick up and do, seemingly with little-to-no preparation. We’ve all been writing since grade one, maybe earlier. You may not feel you’re missing any lessons in etymology, history, linguistics... You may feel you’re writing… just fine. It’s possible none of what is in this chapter will show up in your next story. At least, not on the surface.

All that English Class Stuff—what does it mean? Does it matter? (I’m preparing myself for lively debate in the comments!) You may write, and you may be actively publishing work without a half thought given to this.

We live in a time of either embracing or eschewing formal education as well as various forms of what is seen as “authority.” There are many reasons for this, many I understand—I’m an Unschooler, too, and a bit of an anarchist, at heart. When I did go to post-sec—after years of being a “drop out”—a degree was not my goal. I wanted to take classes that would nourish the writer in me.

It might come down to the question of what serves your poem and story, your work, your writing. What knowledge-base will you work from?

Writing and creating comes from openness, from being curious, from attracting and drawing together knowledge, whether formal or informal, whether it comes with a paper degree or is gleaned from reading or listening. “Paying attention” is one of the most significant things a writer does.

Do you need a linguistics background to write? I interviewed just such a writer, Cara DiGirolamo, some months ago. I found it fascinating to work with Cara. But no, you don’t need the background, just as you don’t need this chapter.

If your curiosity pulls you in a direction, though, follow it. This is how you develop as a writer. Even when whatever that “direction” is seems to be a side-path.

There are writers who cannot tell you the origin of a word, or what is a dangling participle. Though if one has been reading and writing for some time, and takes a moment to mull over, intuitively it may emerge. You might discover, in reading this chapter, that you have absorbed much of this knowledge so long ago that it’s now in the shadowy corners of your mind; you simply haven’t articulated it in the way that Finch has. Finch knows this material; it’s tethered to her guts.

My Struggle

It’s taken me a number of days to pull this post together; it’s yet another one in which I realize—again—how different all our paths are in writing and learning, stretching and pushing, even as we live our lives, with their own rhythms and pace. This post has a sense of “push” along with “pull.”

What corners do we cut as we assemble our knowledge to do this writing thing? I’ve cut many, especially when my three sons were young, and I had full-time work, along with writing projects.

What is the knowledge I need to write? What is the life I need to live to do so?

In the comments, let’s discuss. What do you feel is key? What is the role, in your work, of studying and knowledge? What do you find yourself reaching for? What are your gaps? What do you like being reminded of every now and then? (As this chapter reminds me of why I studied Latin for two years… two years short of the four recommended by Rita Mae Brown in her “Writers’ Manual.”)

I’ve not done enough travel—I can feel that gap in my work.

You?

Closing thoughts on the chapter, and ‘Choice’

Finch looks at diction—“levels” of language—and its history. As a reader, both the conscious and the unconscious holds knowledge of this. For the writer, conscious knowledge is useful.

Finch is a fan of studying etymology—word origins. She calls them “word-stories.” And suggests you hang out with a dictionary that includes notes on this. As always, she includes extemporaneous ideas:

“I know a poet who, when stuck writing a poem, looks up the etymology of the word she’s stuck on, or the last word she wrote, as a way to get unstuck.” (p.83)

Love this idea.

And to consider, the sub-conscious of both reader and writer:

“Though etymologies rarely work their magic on the surface of a poem, ordinary-looking words can carry secrets that only you, as the poet, know. And the unconscious of your reader may well respond to the hidden lives of your words, and the choices that you make on the basis of etymology can enrich your poem many levels down, and give it the roots a strong, true poem needs.” (p. 83)

She also speaks to using words you don’t know, or don’t use often, or even at all, and how this can split open your work. If you’re having a dry time in your work—a desert time—this chapter can offer a sense of play… if we’re looking at it in a playful way.

In addition to etymology, Finch also looks at allusion and neologisms (invented words; in works such a Lewis Carroll’s “Jabberwocky”), and the power in naming things.

No, I won’t give you a full synopsis of this chapter; I hope you order and purchase this work. It should be on your shelves, read, and absorbed. I write these monthly posts to give us something to think about, to discuss—something of a side-dish to Finch’s work.

To sum

Don’t allow a lack of knowledge keep you from writing.

Don’t allow a resistance to knowledge cause your story or poem to be less than it deserves to be—honour your work.

“A writer inhabits his native language as if it were a foreign country.” — Marcel Proust

“It would be one thing if poetry were made of words alone, but it is not—no more than words themselves are.” — Paolo Freire

No wonder writing takes time.

“A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.” — Thomas Mann

Let’s leave the rushed world off to the side. We’ll never get ahead of the jam anyway. Instead, wander off… wherever your fancy takes you. The “difficult” is the same piece as “curiosity.”