My colleague tells me I could become an “existential threat to the industry” if I say what is on my mind right now. I recently received a “review” and “feedback” from a “contest judge” as follows, concluding that From the Shallow End to the Deep End, my book of Shakespearean Sonnets using contemporary English language and themes:
"Lacks structure that transforms a gathering of poems into a fully realized arc."
I can accept criticism about the quality of my poetry all day long. I can also take in stride a judges’ subjective assessment that my book is unworthy of receiving good reviews, winning contests, or even reading at all; in fact, they can get in line with the others. The book has received enough positive reviews and acclaim that such negativity doesn’t overwhelm me. The problem is that I simply cannot accept that this is an objective criticism from a qualified judge of poetry who actually read the book. Such a claim collapses under the weight of the book itself.
First, the book is entitled From the Shallow End to the Deep End. If that metaphor alone isn’t obvious, it is separated into three distinct subsections labelled (i) The Shallow End, (ii) The Middle of the Pool, and (iii) The Deep End. The first poem recounts an early memory of a toddler almost drowning. The final poem addresses the final moment of the sequential story, when one middle-aged spouse invites the other for a poolside chat to demand a divorce.
This is not a retroactive explanation of the meaning of an otherwise random stack of poetry. Fifty-two of the ninety-seven sonnets in the book directly reference water. Thirty-five directly reference faith and perseverance. Eighty-seven directly address relationships between people. All ninety-seven poems involve a struggle of some kind. The poems are deliberately arranged in chronological order. Perhaps most glaringly, the Introduction, Table of Contents, and Acknowledgments in the book make all of this extremely clear.
I can certainly accept criticism that the book's structure is not appealing, not elegant, not surprising, or not worthy of notoriety. That is fair game. But under no circumstances can I accept the conclusion that no structure exists. That is not a valid reading of the work. It is a conclusion that smacks of feedback from an AI algorithm reaching a self-fulfilling conclusion and then mistaking its own circular logic for insight.
I have been teaching for a long time, and I have written and judged a tremendous amount of work. I decided to reach a compromise with my colleague, and I will not name the contest or the judge. But I will still voice my gripe, even at the risk of being called an existential threat to the industry, because the objection is legitimate. If a book is built around water, movement, struggle, memory, faith, and relationships, and if it is explicitly organized around those ideas, in chronological order, and explained in the beginning, then saying it has no structure is absurd.
I am not asking for praise. I am not asking anyone to like the poems or the book. I am asking for a basic level of honesty in criticism, especially when you charge a fee for that criticism. At least read the book first. If someone wants to say the arc is weak, the sequence is too obvious, the emotional progression is uneven, or the symbolism is too direct, I can live with that even if I disagree. But if a critic cannot see a structure that is patently printed on the pages, announced in advance, and reinforced across ninety-seven poems, then the problem isn’t the book.
"Lacks structure that transforms a gathering of poems into a fully realized arc."
I can accept criticism about the quality of my poetry all day long. I can also take in stride a judges’ subjective assessment that my book is unworthy of receiving good reviews, winning contests, or even reading at all; in fact, they can get in line with the others. The book has received enough positive reviews and acclaim that such negativity doesn’t overwhelm me. The problem is that I simply cannot accept that this is an objective criticism from a qualified judge of poetry who actually read the book. Such a claim collapses under the weight of the book itself.
First, the book is entitled From the Shallow End to the Deep End. If that metaphor alone isn’t obvious, it is separated into three distinct subsections labelled (i) The Shallow End, (ii) The Middle of the Pool, and (iii) The Deep End. The first poem recounts an early memory of a toddler almost drowning. The final poem addresses the final moment of the sequential story, when one middle-aged spouse invites the other for a poolside chat to demand a divorce.
This is not a retroactive explanation of the meaning of an otherwise random stack of poetry. Fifty-two of the ninety-seven sonnets in the book directly reference water. Thirty-five directly reference faith and perseverance. Eighty-seven directly address relationships between people. All ninety-seven poems involve a struggle of some kind. The poems are deliberately arranged in chronological order. Perhaps most glaringly, the Introduction, Table of Contents, and Acknowledgments in the book make all of this extremely clear.
I can certainly accept criticism that the book's structure is not appealing, not elegant, not surprising, or not worthy of notoriety. That is fair game. But under no circumstances can I accept the conclusion that no structure exists. That is not a valid reading of the work. It is a conclusion that smacks of feedback from an AI algorithm reaching a self-fulfilling conclusion and then mistaking its own circular logic for insight.
I have been teaching for a long time, and I have written and judged a tremendous amount of work. I decided to reach a compromise with my colleague, and I will not name the contest or the judge. But I will still voice my gripe, even at the risk of being called an existential threat to the industry, because the objection is legitimate. If a book is built around water, movement, struggle, memory, faith, and relationships, and if it is explicitly organized around those ideas, in chronological order, and explained in the beginning, then saying it has no structure is absurd.
I am not asking for praise. I am not asking anyone to like the poems or the book. I am asking for a basic level of honesty in criticism, especially when you charge a fee for that criticism. At least read the book first. If someone wants to say the arc is weak, the sequence is too obvious, the emotional progression is uneven, or the symbolism is too direct, I can live with that even if I disagree. But if a critic cannot see a structure that is patently printed on the pages, announced in advance, and reinforced across ninety-seven poems, then the problem isn’t the book.