Nobody asked me, but I think the depressed economy -- which looks like it will last, and affects everything -- will bring about a new esthetic. Everything new in literature starts in poetry, so I was interested and then uneasy when an accomplished poet friend wrote me that she was enrolling in this writers.com online poetry course, for which I give you the course description and outline:
Imperfectly Simple: Write Wabi Sabi
Write to see the light shine through the cracks in your life. Wabi Sabi is a hip alternative to measuring value solely by degrees of perfection or profit. Originating in Japan, it celebrates intrinsic value in what is lean, spare and rough hewn. Do you appreciate vintage patinas? Do you want to make peace with your lifeâ€™s cracked pots or ragged edgesâ€”even your penchant for messiness? This class is for anyone who sees value-added in simply what isâ€”and wants to write about it.
Weâ€™ll write from a Wabi Sabi perspective (and technique) in short essays, stories, poetry, or journal entries. Weâ€™ll even get visual to create an "altered bookâ€ documenting class experience. Bring your flaws to class. Weâ€™re going to write from the space between the lines. Class theme will be the following quote by Leonard Cohen:
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
Thatâ€™s how the light gets in.
Week 1: Imperfect & Uncertain: Learning what Wabi Sabi is, I'm beginning to appreciate its value for my life and work. I question the drive to be certain, competent and confident about my writing.
Week 2: Quirky & Transient: I celebrate whatâ€™s offbeat about my work, my home, my family, my life. I look more closely at the immaterial and what is not seen with the eye.
Week 3: Simple & Rustic: I write simple, spare and lean in form and/or content. I explore the rugged patina of my experience and my writing practice.
Week 4: Broken & Incomplete: I allow whatâ€™s wrong to be wrongâ€”and understand thatâ€™s all right. I make sense of the â€œendâ€ of things, and value whatâ€™s left unfinished.
This course sounds so intriguing and exotic. How fun to try it (only $160 for four weeks). It sounds so punk rock and carefree! To lighten up, devolve, loosen my grip, and see and write like a kid again! I don't doubt that Wabi Sabi is good poetic exercise. Yet its values remind me of Facebook. Facebook encourages communications that are simple and incomplete, lean and transient, imperfect and uncertain, rough-hewn and quirky. (It is, however, strangely intolerant of any posting that is not hip, and I would bet my lunch that Wabi Sabi is the same way.) Facebook is a quirk fest, a quirk museum. We revel in our own and each other's quirks there, while Facebook compiles our quirks for marketers, employers, and surveillance. Nobody much cares about that.
Nobody cares much about poetry either, but they are going to care more, and soon. Nobody collects poetry for marketers and surveillance--yet. That is its glory. To get casual about the way we write poetry--saturating it with the personal and offbeat, being satisfied to leave it unfinished--I think is a mistake.
I'm particularly troubled by that one sentence: "I allow whatâ€™s wrong to be wrongâ€”and understand thatâ€™s all right."