Major Jackson

This annual collection of “the best” American poetry is always a welcome affirmation of the continuing importance of the art of poetry in this forever-changing world. While acknowledging that, and acknowledging that I have been an intermittent reader of these volumes, I confess I bought this volume to "shop" for new-to-me poets. Did I read all of the 75 poems included in this volume? No. Did I read most? Yes. While I am quite capable of analyzing a specific poem, if required; I have my show more own personal preferences as to how I like poetry (usually relatively short with a fair amount of white space) and as I have gotten older I am prejudiced towards things that are more comfortable, BUT, I do still like to explore some.

All of the poems I read were, of course, excellent in their own ways. It is a mix of approaches, language and form. Some take a light approach to make their points, some are somber and powerful. I noted nine 'favorite' poems/poets via dog-earing pages. The poets are: Margaret Atwood, Joshua Bennett, Carl Dennis, Edward Hirsch, Didi Jackson, Ilya Kaminsky, Sharon Olds, Tracy K Smith and Kevin Young. Four of these— Atwood, Dennis, Hirsch & Olds—have been around a long time and are familiar to me; the other five have been born since 1970 and only Kaminsky and Smith were familiar (I probably recognized about a third of the poets in the collection). That’s a gain of three newbies to investigate! I can’t reproduce all my favorites here, but I’ll list the titles in case one wants to attempt finding them online, and reproduce the two shortest, both of which seem to say so little, but so much about where we are today.

My nine faves:
Atwood: “An Update on Werewolves”
Bennett: “America Will Be”
Dennis: “Armed Neighbor”
Hirsch: “Stranger by Night”
Jackson: “The Burning Bush”
Kaminsky: from “Last Will and Testament”
Olds: “Rasputin Aria”
Smith: “The Greatest Personal Privation”
Young: “Hive”

“Stranger by Night” by Edward Hirsch

After I lost
my peripheral vision
I started getting sideswiped
by pedestrians cutting
in front of me
almost randomly
like memories
I couldn’t see coming
as I left the building
at twilight
or stepped gingerly
off the curb
or even just crossed
the wet pavement
to the stairs descending
precipitously
into the subway station
and I apologized
to every one
of those strangers
jostling me
in a world that had grown
stranger by night.
(originally published in the Threepenny Press)

“Hive” by Kevin Young

The honey bees’ exile
is almost complete.
You can carry

them from hive
to hive, the child thought
& that is what

he tried, walking
with them thronging
between his pressed palms.

Let him be right.
Let the gods look away
as always. Let this boy

who carries the entire
actual, whirring
world in his calm

unwashed hands,
barely walking; bear
us all there

buzzing, unsung.

(From Poem-A-Day) show less

The 2019 edition of The Best American Poetry begins with an impassioned introduction by David Lehman on political correctness in today's society. Major Jackson is the guest editor this year and poses the theme of artistic dignity vs street cred. With both of the introductions, I was expecting the poetry to follow suit. The poetry, however, doesn't seem to have the punch I was expecting from the introductions. Although very modern in form and seemingly less conservative, although not less show more controversial, then past editions, this does not seem to be a "best of" collection. Rather than the more themed collections of past years, this year's edition seems to cover a wide spectrum, like a survey. It could be the "street cred" of this edition that has left me, for the first time, feeling slightly disappointed. Maybe like music readers develop an ear for only certain types of poetry. Perhaps, it is just me getting old and clinging to the more traditional type of poetry rather than embracing the new. A few poems did stand out from the many; most notably Deborah Landau's "Soft Targets." show less

There were some nice moments in this collection, and perhaps a few poems that I'll go back to, but I was somewhat disappointed on the whole. There were quite a few poems that felt too personal here, not in the way of that they shouldn't have been published, but simply that I'm not sure a reader unfamiliar with Jackson himself or the area he's coming from could really get a feel for them. It seemed like there was a distance between myself and the material, and as a result, much of it fell show more somewhat flat. Jackson didn't seem to be trying to translate the material for a strange reader, and I never felt like I was being brought into the scene, or even considered. I've read poems by Jackson before which I've enjoyed, so I'm hoping I just picked up the wrong collection this time, and will try again in the future. Still, this wasn't one I'd recommend unless you've got a particular reason to search him out. show less

In 2004, I attended the Furious Flower Poetry Conference at James Madison University. The conference was held as a celebration of African-American Poetry and today's most notable poets were in attendance. Poets Yusef Komunayakaa, Rita Dove, Lucille Clifton, Kevin Young, E. Ethelbert Miller, Nikki Giovanni, and Amiri Baraka (amongst others) highlighted this celebration of not just African-American Poetry, but of the poetical influence of Gwendolyn Brooks. Major Jackson also attended and read show more at this conference.

A majority of Major Jackson's poetry collection, "Hoops," is an homage, no, check that, a poetic letter to the late Gwendolyn Brooks. While this has the recipe for success, the constant allusion to specific, personal experiences and acquaintances without any universality to it, will ultimately alienate most readers. Two sections of his letter to Brooks seem to allude, if not directly approach, the experience at the Furious Flower Conference. But, navigating those waters, at times, proves to be quite difficult.

This is not to say that this collection is bad as there are gems that present themselves throughout the work. Lines such as, "...if the slum's our dungeon,/school's our Bethlehem." and the final section of the Brooks letter, "Spring Garden" reflect the powerful language that does exist in Jackson's work. show less