RESOURCE: “Is there a wrong way to read a poem?”

This post is based on and builds off some ideas explored in my ‘What is a bad poem exactly?’ essays (Part 1 and Part 2) from earlier in the year. The aim here, though, is to come up with a simple starting proposition for students, as well as others who lack confidence when it comes to reading, analysing and judging the quality of poetry.

After all, the impression we get when we read or hear others extolling the merits of a poem, or talking excitedly of its meaning, is that it should all be very obvious. We should cotton quickly to what the poem is about, intuitively grasp its themes and messages, and be able to tell, almost at a glance, whether or not it is a good poem. If we can’t do that, then it must be due to a deficiency of some sort.

It’s also tempting to think that because some critics and readers have a very clear sense of what a poem is doing, and are able to say so convincingly, there must be a ‘correct’ form of understanding, and if we can’t reach this understanding on our own then we have failed, in some way, to read the poem properly.

Thinking like this can seriously get in the way of enjoyment. It can stop you on your journey through a poem before you’ve even started. At the outset, it’s better to think of other readers as climbers making their way up the same mountain, approaching it from other directions. They have come armed with different experiences, different expectations and different interpretative tools to you, so the route they take is likely to be different too. Watching what they do and say can be instructive — it can give you ideas, inspire you to make similar mental leaps, or to linger on the same words and lines. You might even find it makes sense to follow exactly in their footsteps.

But ultimately, it’s up to you how you tackle the terrain. That might mean re-reading the beginning over and over. It might mean starting with a general survey of the poem, or by thinking about its form. It might mean sitting with one particular image or phrase for a long time, or looking up every slightly unfamiliar word. It might mean storming through the poem five times in a row, or jumping between lines and stanzas in an arbitrary order. The important thing is that you are finding a way to stick with it, to get more comfortable with it, to feel out its inner workings.

Conversely, if there is a ‘wrong’ way to read a poem, it’s whatever results in boredom. If you’re feeling bored, and only reading on because you feel you ought to, then something has gone awry. Boredom is usually what happens when we’re spinning on the spot, putting in effort without any sense that our minds are developing.

If this happens when you’re reading a poem, it’s possibly because the poem has nothing much to give, that you’ve heard all its author has to say many times before. It’s possible that the poem is just too messy, or impossible to penetrate for all but a select few. But very often it’s a sign you need a new angle of attack. Look at what other readers say about it — could that give you a foothold? If they’re an experienced reader or critic, it’s likely they can lend a hand. Think about what parts you like and don’t like — can you work out why? Is the poem challenging your beliefs in some way? Does it touch on matters that you find awkward or unsettling? Is it worth paying more attention to patterns or sounds? Ask whatever question is needed to break the spell of boredom.

Suppose you do like what you’re reading — you’re having a good time, it makes you feel good, or impressed at least — but your thoughts stop there? You don’t know how to explain it. You’re not sure what it means or why it’s enjoyable. That’s fine. That’s a normal, healthy way to engage with a poem. But know that if you can find a way to better understand your own reaction, it will likely open the door to a deeper and longer-lasting appreciation. And if you can understand it in terms of some of the devices and techniques the poem is using, the choices made by the poet — if you are able to analyse it at a somewhat technical level — it will likely make it easier to identify features of other poems you will enjoy and learn from. Keep this up, and your tastes will grow and evolve, leading you on to many more kinds of reading experience.

Remember that the point of reading poetry is not to end up agreeing with everyone else, or to prove yourself a capable literary scholar. It’s to enrich the mind and sharpen the senses by tapping into other people’s visions, propositions, thought processes and experiences — people who’ve tried to pass on their most exciting and intimate discoveries and their most intense dreams in the form of shapely bursts of words. If that method of communication sometimes throws up difficulties, it’s because we are all explorers of our own inner lives, charting the unknown, and so much that needs expressing or exploring does not fit into everyday sentences.