Nada Gordon's Interests

Andrew Lundwall e-published Nada Gordon's book Interests.

I just read it (twice) and laughed quite a bit.

Thanks for sending me the link, Andrew!

It's definitely what I call "smart ass" poetry, something which is probably a new(ish) genre (unrecognized) although it's been with us for decades now. Not all satirical poetry is "smart ass." Not all "smart ass" poetry is satire. Most literary satire writes itself completely out of relevance to the "world at large." It is born date-stamped. To me, an articulation of "smart ass" poetry would start with its removal from the literary and the literary pose and such poetry would be characterized by accessiblity, mouthiness and nerve. Anyone can get the "digs."

Bernadette Mayer, for example, is a great "smart ass" poet.

Of course, one could see ancestors of this in poets as far back as Catullus, but it has spent most of literary history largely out of vogue.

The language of the street (or the new street, the net) is essential.

The poems in Interests seem to consist of lists of interests (insert a "Duh!" of whatever coloration you choose here) which compose portraits of some disparate individuals.

Of course, there is a possibility these are all one person's lists, but then this person would most likely be afflicted with multiple personality disorder, since the personalities tend to be distinct, if not always altogether consistent in their interests. But then who is?

One wonders whether the poet asked friends to list their interests and she worked from that, or whether she just did these "shorthand portraits" of friends, acquaintances or strangers (or the lesser-known kook, oddball or perceived enemy or frenemy which drew her attention or ire).

Some of these are rather bilious portraits and a few are clearly poison-pen works of The School of SmartAssitude. Gordon, like her partner Gary Sullivan, is a natural literary satirist. When seen in this light, the title Interests takes on a different shading, and would seem to encourage an interpretation along the (critical) lines of "vested interests". But, mercifully, the book doesn't skew overmuch in that tiresome direction.

It's a cute book.

It hearkens back to a model of literature Joe Brainard embraced (le quotidien ), but the sensibility is different because of the acerbic nature of some of the poems (notably absent in Brainard's work.)

Some of the poems fail to rise to poetry and remain mere lists.

But is this poetry? You will always have some that insist a book like this is prose. I find the argument pointless, so won't pursue it. (That might lead to the lifeless
intersection of Scansion Way and Soporific Street.)

When she places "the world" all by itself on one page, we know as readers she's doing this to break up the monotony of poetic forms which are too repetitive. Similarly, when she doesn't cling to the abecedarian form she uses for several of her lists--which would have cheapened the reading experience in an OCD sort of way--the reader breathes a sigh of gratitude.

But there is a gestalt (I know: what a fucking bromide!) to the book wherein the fairly insane drift of the lists keeps the mind floating across the human sea of variability.

The book has a certain negative capability. It could be read as a paean to the variability and funny volatility of the human mind, or it could be read as a work of pathos--i.e., ultimately humans are just a ticking off off flighty interests and changing interest-patterns.

We are clouds like those information clouds on "the internets." I always think internet should be plural. Just like "the trots."

Probably, Interests is best read as a book of Portraits, done with brio and humor. Think of Stein's work along these lines vis-a-vis the artists she loved to collect.

The "sorta avanty" poetry world is so teensy-weensy now, you'll probably know whom several of the poems are describing. Many read as portraits of "known blogging entities."

Reading the list poems, one gets resonances of other writers. As I mentioned already, Joe Brainard comes to mind. Lisa Jarnot also came to mind once or twice. One odd list reminded me of an Edward Gorey portrait. I wanted to see him illustrate it.

Nada Gordon's Interests

It's the perfect poem for a poet to take to a reading. It's that icebreaking poem ready to enter the polar, deathly stillness of the poetry reading.

The accessibility, humor and legerete of the poems should work in the favor of the work in such a setting.