Thirteen ways of looking at form
Ways of looking at ways of looking
Dear friends,
I enjoyed reading your practices for how you ground yourself after last week’s newsletter — thank you.
I’m coming to the end of two weeks on the island of Iona. Iona is off the west coast of the island of Mull, which is off the west coast of Scotland. It’s small — three miles by a mile and a half — but its foundation rock is nearly three billion years old, distinguishing it from some of the other islands nearby.
There’s an abbey on the island, established initially by the Irish monk Columba (he’s known as Colmcille in Ireland). And there are shell-based beaches that render the water a beautiful blue. There are pilgrimage walks, stone walls, churches, and stories.
My favourite thing about Iona, however, is the rookery. In a small copse of about 20 tall trees, a group of rooks live. They caw caw their way around the place, bawdy and braggadocious. We had a small talk about the geology and wildlife from the people at Iona Trails, and I asked about the rooks. We were told that they sometimes take off in a group on a day’s outing to Mull, returning a few hours later like jacked-up college students repeating old jokes with each other. A gathering of rooks enjoys a few collective nouns, my favourite of which is a “clamour.”
We’ve been looking at Wallace Stevens’ brilliant “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird” during the week. It is, as the title suggests, a poem in 13 parts, each of which is a way of looking at a blackbird. Some of them are descriptive, some strange. “Among twenty snowy mountains, / The only moving thing / Was the eye of the blackbird.” is the opening stanza. So far, so straightforward. The second lets us know that this is a landscape of strangeness: “I was of three minds, / Like a tree / In which there are three blackbirds.”
Wallace Stevens defined a new genre of form with this extraordinary poem. Ever since its publication, there have been writers who’ve written things in the shape of “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a … ” R.S. Thomas, the Welsh poet, wrote “Thirteen Blackbirds look at a Man,” and Henry Louis Gates Jr. released “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Black Man”. (There’s a collection with that title here, and you can also read a New Yorker article from Gates) The magnificent Patricia Smith’s book Shoulda Been Jimi Savannah contains a poem of 13 stanzas (each with 13 lines of 13 syllables) examining the complexities of being a teenager, titled “13 Ways of Looking At 13.”
What I love about the 13 ways is that it enriches the imagination. We are so used (if I may be so bold in saying it) to seeking a singular way of looking at an item or an event: is it good or bad? The 13 ways approach allows for contemplation, as well as deep consideration about context, mitigating circumstances, subtlety, difference, sharpness. I’ve long thought that poetic form is built on psychological necessity: a pantoum is fantastic for mulling sequence; a sonnet is good for arresting yourself with a volta; etc. Stevens’s “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a … ” form invites layered thinking.
There are some things that do not need 13 ways, perhaps just one way: truth or justice. But even in those, without diminishing truth, there are ways of looking at the 13 layers of experience that allow a point of view to flourish. Someone wrote “Thirteen Ways of Looking at an Election” at an event recently. Someone else wrote “Thirteen Ways of Looking at My Journey Here;” another wrote about their mother’s death, another about the radical change they’d gone through in midlife.
This week I am curious to learn: What it is that you feel the need to have 13 ways of looking at?
I leave Iona on Sunday, and I will be back in the US. I look forward to seeing some of you in LA, Seattle, Indianapolis, Chicago, Memphis, or — land of my heart — Australia. Also, in praise of our educators, for anyone interested in a close small-group online class, the delicious and magnificent Richard Blanco, one of whose poems we covered in Poetry Unbound, is offering a workshop for educators.
Poetry in the World
A list of events: Online and in Australia (Melbourne, Queenscliff, Sydney), Ireland (Cork, Dublin, Listowel), and the US (Chicago, Indianapolis, Los Angeles, Memphis, Seattle)
March 26–29, Los Angeles, California, US
I’ll be participating in some events at the AWP Conference & Bookfair this coming week. Registration is required, and you can find info here.
April 3, Seattle, Washington, US, and online
I’ll be giving an evening talk at Saint Mark’s Episcopal Cathedral. Registration is needed, and you can find information here.
April 7, Indianapolis, Indiana, US
I’ll be at Butler University as part of its visiting writers series. No need to register, and you can find the details here.
April 9, Chicago, Illinois, US
In the afternoon, I’ll be offering — along with museum educator Marielle Epstein — a gallery tour at the Art Institute of Chicago, looking at how art and poetry invite us to be present to each other. You must register, and you’ll find details here.
April 10 & 11, Memphis, Tennessee, US, and online
I’ll be back at Calvary Episcopal Church for two events: an evening interview on the first day and a midday sermon on the second day (the sermon will also be livestreamed). Both events are free to attend, and you can find details here.
April 26–27, Melbourne, Australia
I’m giving a two-day retreat on “Poems on Being with Each Other,” with the Small Giants Academy lovelies. Registration here.
May 2–4, Queenscliff, Victoria, Australia
I’ll be speaking at the delicious sacrededge festival. More info here.
May 7, Sydney, Australia
The marvelous Miriam of Poetica is organising a poetry reading in the evening. Get tickets here.
May 8, Sydney, Australia
I’ll be speaking in the morning at the Welcoming Cities Symposium. Registration here.
May 8–11, Melbourne, Australia
I’ll be speaking on the Saturday (May 10) of the Melbourne Writers Festival. Festival info here.
May 13–17, Cork, Ireland
I’ll be reading and conducting an interview at the Cork International Poetry Festival. Details here.
May 20, Dublin, Ireland
I’ll be reading at the International Literature Festival Dublin (ILFD). Information here.
May 29, Listowel, County Kerry, Ireland
I’ll be reading at Listowel Writers’ Week. Information here.
I saw a photo of myself in my early 20s recently and the following lines came to me...
I'm not skinny like I was
when I thought that I was fat
Maybe I'll explore 13 ways of looking at my body. Maybe not.
13 ways of answering the question “What in the hell should I be doing in this moment of tyranny in the U.S?”