Poetic Industrial Complex: First Book Prize Question
As per Francisco Aragón, the recipient of the 2008 Andrés Montoya Poetry Prize is Paul Martínez Pompa for his manuscript, Men Watching Men. More at the Letras Latinas blog here. This year’s judge was Martín Espada, who had many wonderful things to say about Martínez Pompa’s work. An excerpt:
This is one tough, smart poet. The poems of Paul Martínez Pompa are gritty and visceral, but never cross the line into sensationalism. They are poems that vividly evoke the urban world, especially Chicago, without ever lapsing into urban cliché. They are poems that seek justice for the Latino community without ever resorting to the overheated language that all too often consigns poetry of social conscience to oblivion.
I am loving the critical tone Espada has here regarding urban cliché, and by extension, cliché as it applies to “ethnic” and “political” poetry. It seems Espada isn’t easily taken by righteous emotional output in poetry, that if a poem is angry, if it holds to the correct party line, then it is a good poem. No, the poem’s gotta hold its own water.
This tough love reminds me of Victor Hernández Cruz’s introduction to Adrian Castro’s first book of poems, Cantos to Blood and Honey:
Blood is liquid life and honey is the flavor of it — El sabor. This is the Caribbean opened up, the details of the interior. These poems are a Caribbean projection realized — this is not merely a search for Antillean history and identity.
That part about “not merely a search for Antillean history and identity,” tells me that our poet elders expect us younger (ethnic, political) poets to go much deeper than merely expressing ourselves — i.e. holding up a “Barack Obama for President” placard is expressing yourself, as is piercing your nose or getting a tattoo. Rather, these elder poets really expect to see younger poets considering and/or fine-tuning our use of form, language, tone, music/meter/tempo, and page. In the very least, these elders, it seems to me, expect younger poets to constantly challenge ourselves. And they want to be challenged by the work too.
So it’s great when it works out this way, a major poet mentor in the community, finding promising work of emerging poets, and being confident in the work s/he is willing to stamp his/her name on it. Sometimes I wish there were a first book prize for APIA poets for these reasons of continuity between mentor or master poets and generations of up and comers, apprentice poets in emergence, even though I’m not a proponent of book contest.
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Conversely, it’s recently been brought to my attention that the Cave Canem Poetry Prize was not awarded in 2008, as per the judge Clarence Major’s decision. I understand that a caveat of many book prizes is that if the judge or judges deem none of the submitted manuscripts as “prize-worthy,” then it is his or her or their prerogative not to award one.
I wonder though, if this is “fair” when considering first book manuscripts. How does one judge a first book prize? What criteria, and does it differ from other book prizes? If so, how? I refer back to Espada and Hernández Cruz on reading first book manuscripts (though Castro’s first book wasn’t published as a result of a contest).
I wonder also if the (not necessarily intended) message this non-awarding gives the community is that the prestigious writing program to which this prize is attached isn’t putting out “good enough” poets, publication worthy poets.
These are just questions. I am not trying to judge.
I find it incomprehensible that there wasn’t a single manuscript not worth publishing. After reading (and hearing) about how underlings comb through the entries and send up what they think is the best work, it makes me wonder whose incredible manuscript was shredded or returned without ever making it to Major to read. I’d love to be able to read the manuscripts Major actually saw.
While the Cave Canem poetry workshop takes place at a U of Pitt campus, as far as I know the Cave Canem Prize is not officially affiliated with any particular writing program (though the cofounders of CC teach in two), and the prize is open to poets from all across the aesthetic spectrum. I was disappointed to learn that the prize was not awarded this year—particularly in the wake of our new initiative that pairs Montoya Prize winners with Cave Canem winners. Next summer Ronaldo Wilson and Gabe Gomez will be in residence together at the Anderson Center in MN, and give a reading together in Chicago. So it looks like Paul will have to be in residence with the 2009 winner (one hopes).
@ Francisco (& Barbara):
Look at Cave Canem over the years: its faculty, the community of writing professionals, editors, and writers that sprang from it, all the scholarly work it has inspired (including a number of participants who went on to MFA’s and Ph.D.’s AFTER attending–contrary to popular belief that only grad students go to CC), and the poets traditionally affiliated with it (including a Pulitzer Prize winner who was first a Cave Canem prize winner). It ain’t no University writing program, but to my mind, it is just as prestigious. Also, F, while you’re right that the competition is open to all walks, I think it’s a safe bet that the majority of entrants into the competition are/were affliated in some way with the retreat and its community. Given all this, I am disappointed in Major’s decision as well. Highly so. Has the quality of the work dropped off that drastically from one year to the next? Having read four entries from the competition myself (albeit informally), I’m hard-pressed to say yes. But what do I know?
@ Collin: Agreed. Agreed. Agreed.
@ Barbara again: A thoroughly enjoyable interview with Martin appears in the latest issue of THE WRITERS’ CHRONICLE, put out by AWP. He talks deftly about the intersection of craft and politics…despite his interviewers! I’d love to engage him in a conversation on the craft of political poetry. In fact, I just might… oooooo!
The passage you quote from Martin Espada’s citation is precisely the part that made me hesitate. I was going to write something against it but decided that the moment called for a celebration of the poetry of Paul Martinez Pompa.
My issue is that I would like to know to whom is Espada referring when he says, “the overheated language that all too often consigns poetry of social conscience to oblivion.”
My point is that one person’s oblivion may be another persons’s tradition.
In addition, I don’t know why this disparaging is necessary to celebrate Pompa’s poetry. I know Pompa’s work; there is enough there to talk about in positive terms without contrasting it to some other work that apparently has been lost to oblivion.
Thanks folks, for all the comments.
Javier, I see your point. I actually didn’t read Espada’s comment as disparaging, but as critical not of any particular one poet or poets but of a larger or popular trend of political poetry that he wishes would aspire to something else. I feel like this is the role of our mentors – to push younger poets out of their comfort zones. “Tough love,” as I’ve written above.
You are right; there is a time and a place for criticism, and in celebration of Pompa’s good work, this is what folks should focus on, rather than on what it is not.
I appreciate reading thoughtful comments about the 2008 Cave Canem Poetry Prize. Like the poets who entered, I was very disappointed by the judge’s decision. This outcome is unprecedented in the history of the Cave Canem Poetry Prize, a successful program since inaugurated in 1999 with Rita Dove’s selection of Natasha Trethewey’s “Domestic Work.” From time to time, judges of contests decline to “anoint” one manuscript as exceptional, as award-winning; but that does not mean the overall quality of submissions is low. The Cave Canem Poetry Prize program, despite this blip in 2008, is alive and well. It will resume with the 2009 Prize; the winner’s book will be published by Graywolf Press.