The poet is not accountable to the critic, and owes him no answer; nor is she compelled to sing in the political and public hall of fuckery for that fuckery’s amusement—as the speculum speculorum. Between Jupiter and Semele, let us not forget who stows the devastating révélation. First and finally, all revolts are intimate.
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About Joseph Spece
Solo volumes are 𝘽𝘼𝘿 𝙕𝙊𝙊 (Fathom, 2018) and 𝙍𝙤𝙖𝙙𝙨 (Cherry Grove, 2013). Founding editor at Fathom Books and SHARKPACK imprints; degrees from Columbia University and Boston College. Publishing credits in 𝙋𝙤𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙮, 𝘿𝙄𝘼𝙂𝙍𝘼𝙈, 3𝘼𝙈, 𝙏𝙧𝙞𝙌𝙪𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙮, 𝘼𝙂𝙉𝙄, 𝙑𝙤𝙡𝙩, and 𝘽𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝘼𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙀𝙭𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙒𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; editing and reader credits in poetry, non-fiction, and fiction at 𝙉𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚, 𝙉𝙤𝙗𝙡𝙚/𝙂𝙖𝙨 𝙌𝙩𝙧𝙡𝙮, and 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙍𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬, respectively. Writing fellowships from The Poetry Foundation, MacDowell Colony, Vermont Studio Center, and Massachusetts Cultural Council.
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No longer have a subscription to Harper’s, so I’ll have to search this out. But perhaps not–your comment suggesting to me that it might be a waste of my time. If I get around to it, maybe. But I’m deep into the study of birds and falconry at the moment, so probably won’t find the time. In any case, what you’ve written here seems legitimate in its own entirety. The last line, especially, about revolts. Especially that.
I would not leave the study of falconry for a single moment! The original essay is the produce of the de rigueur prophet-quacks whom imagine they can ken movement in the Poetic. Falcons are the thing, M.
My friend, poet and critic Susan Schultz, has written a thorough rejoinder: http://tinfisheditor.blogspot.com/2013/06/but-it-matters-mark-edmundson-and.html Not sure you will like the implicit pluralism (not quite relativism) but the gist, that the critic might want to read more widely, and that poetry might want to interrogate the moment of its “we” rather than assuming the universalism of dominant happenstance resonates with me.
Be looking into this soon, Doc.
“The poet is not accountable to the critic, and owes him no answer; nor is she compelled to sing in the political and public hall of fuckery for that fuckery’s amusement—as the speculum speculorum.” YOU ARE THE VENOMOUS GENIUS OF THE DAYYYYYYY bro.