Let Us Now Praise Famous Cliches

Nobody hates cliches more than poets. Yet cliches do what we are trying to do in our poems: create condensed, memorable, useful metaphors. In this fun article in the Boston Globe, writer James Parker takes us through the history and function of cliches, the phrases we (to use a cliche) love to hate.

As Parker points out, "Durable, easily handled, yet retaining somehow the flavor of its coinage, the classic cliché has fought philology to a standstill: it sticks and it stays, and not by accident."

The history of the word cliche comes from old printing techniques... "So the cliché was an object, and a useful one: a concrete unit of communication that minimized labor and sped things up."

Cliches grease the wheels of the government... "An American politician can be off-the-cuff, instinctive, zig-zag, but only if he or she is prepared immediately to make a cliché of it: look at what happened to the word 'maverick' in the last election."

And cliches range from the petty to the profound... "But what of the timeless cliché, the cliché you can steer your course by, the cliché that carries a small freight not just of meaning, but of wisdom?"

The author also chooses two cliches (the one about free lunch and the one about the tango) that describe the range of his "entire psychological and ethical structure." I'll have to think now about what mine would be. And what are yours?

Mazel Tov

I'd thought to crack a bottle
of champagne against the corner
of our first home

instead, the first thing I broke
was a basement window,
throwing a ball for the dog.

Oh, the immediacy of shatter and collapse
the laws of momentum and gravity
so unbreakable!

Magnetic Poetry

I don't really like magnetic poetry. It's too limiting (or I'm too inflexible) for me to get really creative with the limited selection of words it offers the writer of casual kitchen poetry. However, I do really like this poem that my wife & I co-created with the magnetic poetry set that someone gave us about dogs. It's meant to invoke the young retriever who's still learning how to be a dog.

remember to retrieve

sniff everything
no pooping on toy
no devour cat
yes play
discover
investigate
love
faithfully together

For another fun poem about dogs, check out Kay Ryan's "Fool's Errands" in The New Yorker.

Grandmother Oliver

She said to write it down
and so I did:

Above a wild white rose,
the moon bled onto clouds.

"Smell that," said my love,
"it's still summer."

I put my face into the flower
and drowned in fragrance

on this cool September night
after Mary Oliver smiled at me -

Mary Oliver with her white hair
and wild, shining eyes.

What Makes A Writer?

I just saw the movie Julie & Julia. It was fun. But of course I couldn't help paying special attention to the movie's subtext about how a writer is made and defined. The beginning of the movie shows the main character, Julie, at loose ends, with lots of promise and talent, but directionless. Through discussions with her friends and husband, she decides she needs a project to which she can commit herself. She starts a blog in which she charts her daily progress through Julia Child's cookbook, and updates it for a year. Her blog becomes so successful that she ends up with a book and a movie.

As the credits roll up the screen in the dark theater, the audience is informed as to the dates of death for Julia Child and her beloved husband, as well as current information about Julie Powell. The final line reads, "She is a writer."

I congratulate Julie Powell on her tenacity and success. But I take issue with the movie's message that a writer is defined by her publications. Julie became a writer when she began her blog, before she had hundreds of fans leaving comments. She became a writer when she started writing.

Eternal Paper

I was both entertained and educated by Michael Agger's article in Slate about writing for the web (writing for the web is part of my day job, so I'm continually learning more about such things).

I was simultaneously heartened by the author's observation of the permanence of paper. "We'll do more and more reading on screens," he writes, "but they won't replace paper - never mind what your friend with a Kindle tells you."

Intimacy and tactility - sensuousness - are the most notable aspects of reading from paper as opposed to reading on the screen. Agger describes paper as "a balm for the distracted mind." This is absolutely true for pleasure reading, where one treasures the feeling of diving into a book. I also prefer to proofread and copyedit publications of any length on paper instead of on screen, since paper allows for easier concentration and focus.

When I visited Goddard College for the first time and heard program director Paul Selig describe the MFA experience, he talked about how most of the professors still prefer to receive packets of physical paper in the mail (oh, the time we spent on those packets!) as opposed to being emailed manuscripts. "You might get your manuscript back with wrinkles and coffee stains," he said, and I felt the instinctive joy of a bibliophile whose passions have been recognized and acknowledged. Not only did we all love writing, but we all loved paper.

Poetry for the Young

I recently found this post by author and fellow Hampshire alum Leah Hager Cohen on her blog Love As A Found Object. Cohen describes a momentary yet wonderful solution to a two-part dilemma: how to reconnect with her teenage son, and which poem to suggest he memorize for English class. You might be surprised at her choice!