Poet Laureates

I haven’t spent much time thinking about Poet Laureates, but then I read this from the BBC.  The article handicaps the race for the new British Poet Laureate, focusing on likely winners Simon Armitage and Carol Ann Duffy.  I’m interested to see who wins but more interested in the question of whether any one should want to win.  Andrew Motion, who’s ending a decade long tenure as UK Poet Laureate, has complained that the prestigious post gave him writer’s block and is a “thankless task”—though he later insisted his words were misinterpreted.  The article goes on to cite a poem by Benjamin Zepaniah slamming the position: “Don’t take my word, go check the verse / Cause every laureate gets worse.”

That got me thinking about Laureateship over on this side of the pond. The Bush presidency brought us four laureates, Billy Collins, Louise Glück.  Ted Kooser,  and Charles Simic, and the job sounds stressful.  Imagine having to write poems for weighty occasions like 9/11 or, on the flip side, penning verse for Prince William’s 21st Birthday—maybe not “thankless,” but yikes.  I mean, judge for yourself.  Here’s the first stanza of Motion’s Prince William poem, which purports to combine rap with elements of the sonnet:

“Better stand back
Here’s an age attack,
But the second in line
Is dealing with it fine.”

Ouch.  Based on that snippet, Zepaniah’s right on. It’s enough to make a good leftist wonder if W.’s selection of Collins, Glück, Kooser, and Simic wasn’t part of an evil plot to finally destroy American poetry once and for all.  On a more serious note, it makes me wonder how much the position effects a poet’s work (not to mention mental health). Does every laureate really get worse? Billy Collins served two terms, followed by a stint as New York’s Poet Laureate, perhaps best remembered by his 9/11 memorial “The Names.” The quality of the poem is debatable—though, last line aside, I find a quiet strength beneath the deceptively treacly surface—but just imagine the pressure of having to write that and read it before Congress; a bad case of writer’s block sounds very plausible.  Of course, Collins put out She Was Just Seventeen in 2006 and Ballistics in 2008, so he’s actually grown more prolific.  Has he gotten worse?  I’ll leave that question open.

by Martin Woodside