The Dominion SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 1929. THE DECLINE OF MODERN POETRY

Dominion, Volume 23, Issue 45, 16 November 1929, Page 10

The Dominion SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 16, 1929. THE DECLINE OF MODERN POETRY

It is a matter of common knowledge that there has been a dearth of good English poetry published during the last four or five years. During that period no new poetic reputation has been made. The most outstanding poet of these years, Humbert Wolfe, had s °wn the seeds of his fame long ago, and has merely consolidated his position and enhanced his reputation. Roy Campbell achieved ; an outstanding success with The Flaming Terrapin in 1924, a d others may have had successes of the moment; but it must be admitted that most of the poetry published to-day is the of authors of longestablished reputation such as John Masefield, Walter de la Mare, A. E. Housman, John Drinkwater, Edmund Blunden, and the It is true that volumes of verse by less-known writers continue to appear from time to time, but these-are published as a rule at the author’s expense. To-day hardly a publisher will risk bringing * out a volume of verse by an unknown author. Twenty years ago there was not the same difficulty with regard to publication—rarely a year passed but some new reputation as a poet was established. Doubtless many will blame the publisher; but the fault does not lie solely at his door. In spite of the fact that there is supposedly a widely diffused taste for poetry at the present day, it has to be admitted that the public gave up poetry first, not the publishers. Durin? the War and in the period immediately succeeding it, there was a “boom” in poetry. Some vital verse was produced, and several new poets achieved a well-deserved popularity. The War poems of Seigfried Sassoon, Robert Graves, and -Robert Nichols should ensure for these authors a permanent place among English poets. Much of the verse of this time, some of it published in expensive editions de luxe, in which a whole page may be given to a four-line epigram will deserve the oblivion that should surely overtake it. These slim, expensive volumes, preciously produced, signed and numbered, have done much to bring about a disregard of poetry. Collectors have been “had” so often by. inflated reputations that they have become cautious, and prefer to await the collected edition which is sure to eventuate if the author proves worthy. bo the demand for poetry decreases in the meantime. Some who call themselves poets have sought to stimulate interest in their works by abandoning old forms and adopting as a means of expression what is known as “free verse, where all form is formless, order orderless.” It would seem they have done, poetry a disservice. Miss Laura Riding and Mr. Robert Graves, in their Survey of Modernist Poetry, write of “a short and .very concentrated period of carefully-disciplined and self-conscious poetry, which they admit is unpopular with the plain reader. The self-consciousness is conceded, but the careful discipline is not so easy to discern. I hese seem to be no rules, no forms—just self-consciousness. -What they have to give may be new, it may be clever, but it is not poetry. Mr. Edward Thompson says in an essay on poetry:

“Verse Is not. in its really poetical manifestations, an extraneous ornament, the work of deft brains. The mind has been stirred by an impulse that demands rhythmical expression; there have been wavess or rhythm within, which create waves of rhythm in language. . . . There must be a deliberate element, however hidden, or the rhythmical impulse could not appear in language. But that deliberate element in happy moments works so swiftly, incisively and infallibly, that it becomes a second spontaneity.” Much that has been written by modern extremists such as Mr. E. E. Cummings, the American poet, appears not to be poetry at all. The rhythm is often so elusive that the layman cannot sense it, while the deliberation is too self-conscious for the result to appear spontaneous. The plain reader fails to understand it as verse and,* lacking understanding, lacks interest. The path of the modern poet is indeed a rough one, beset by fads and theories; but as Mr. Humbert Wolfe says, “Not only no poet, but no artist whoever lived, has created by theory, any more than a daffodil evolves in accordance with an Act of Parliament.