Poems to
tickle the funny bone
National
Poetry Month brings out the lighter side of
verse
04/07/2002
TOM MAYO /
Special Contributor to The Dallas Morning
News
Light verse.
Nonsense verse. Comic poems. Ribald verse.
Occasional verse. Satire.
Call it what
you may: In the house of poetry are many
mansions, and some of them make you laugh
out loud.
There is a
tradition, a very bad one, that dismisses
such poetry as somehow unworthy; but light
verse, however it is defined, has been
produced by some of the greatest poets, from
Chaucer and Jonson and Pope to Lear and
Carroll and Auden.
In the month
formerly known as "April" but proclaimed by
the Academy of American Poets as "National
Poetry Month," it may be useful to knock
some of the self-importance out of an
institution that has arrogated one-twelfth
of the year unto itself. Some recently
published collections are a reminder that
poetry that makes you smile can be read for
both pleasure and profit.
One recent
title is Martin Gardner's Favorite
Poetic Parodies (Prometheus Books,
$25). If you are of a certain age, you will
remember Mad magazine's delightfully
impish parodies of famous poems. Many of the
best apparently were written by Frank
Jacobs, and five of his poems made it into
this collection compiled by the creator of
Scientific American's
"Mathematical Games" column and, fittingly,
editor of The Annotated Alice.
Many of the
parodied poems were the instruments of
torture brandished by legions of high-school
English teachers – Samuel Woodworth's "The
Old Oaken Bucket" and Joyce Kilmer's "Trees"
bring back particularly vivid memories – and
it is oddly satisfying to see them at long
last receive the disrespect they deserve.
Straw out
of gold
In W.D.
Snodgrass's De/Compositions (Graywolf,
$16 paperback), the Pulitzer Prize-winning
poet rewrites 101 poems – some classics, all
by well-known authors – but writes them
badly. In a few instances, the revisions are
from the original authors. The results are
slyly instructive and often funny. Mr.
Snodgrass's de/compositions are an artform
of a very low sort, but one that only a
skilled practitioner could achieve. They
retain the form of the original; still, each
artless paraphrase lands on the page with a
dull, leaden thud.
The author
organizes his efforts into five sections
according to the essential trait that he has
squeezed out of the original: "Abstract &
General vs. Concrete & Specific,"
"Undercurrents," "The Singular Voice,"
"Metrics & Music" and "Structure & Climax."
These titles help, particularly with the
de/compositions that you can tell are
inferior to the original, but for which you
cannot put your finger on exactly what is
missing. If, even with these headings, the
lesson is not within reach, Mr. Snodgrass
has appended a brief commentary at the end
of each section that helps identify the
missing element from each de/composition.
De/Compositions is a fabulous book for
poetry circles, book clubs, and anyone in
search of what makes poetry special or
trying to improve one's own. Mining the
lessons in this book is something like the
work of an accident reconstruction expert,
as we learn our lessons from the details of
failure, but with a sublime difference:
There's a laugh on nearly every page.
As Mr.
Snodgrass acknowledges in his preface,
De/Compositions illustrates W.H. Auden's
comment that there are few things funnier
than bad poems.
Laugh
tracks
Finally, for
consistently entertaining poetry that is
both humorous and thoughtful, two recent
books deserve to be devoured. First, late
last year the Everyman's Library Pocket Poet
series published Comic Poems ,
edited by Peter Washington ($12.50). This
fabulous collection spans the centuries and
offers light poetry by "serious" poets
(Graves, Frost, Coleridge, Roethke) as well
as the usual comedic suspects.
And speaking
of the usual suspects, check out Not
Much Fun: The Lost Poems of Dorothy Parker
(Scribner Poetry, $16 paperback). Ms.
Parker's poetry is inevitably described as
written with a pen dipped in acid, and her
biting wit is much in evidence. Her three
poetry collections did not include the poems
in this volume, which were published early
in her writing career. If you haven't read
her poetry, this book is a great place to
start. Her "Hate Verses" on such subjects as
Women, Men, Actresses, Relatives and
Slackers, prove that Ms. Parker was a
precocious – and hilarious – vilifier of all
she surveyed.
Tom Mayo,
an associate professor of law at Southern
Methodist University, teaches "Law,
Literature & Medicine" at the law school and
at the University of Texas Southwestern
Medical School at Dallas.