Dear Poetry Editor

Carrie Olivia Adams on Poetry that Challenges

A conversation with the poetry editor of Black Ocean.

In this month’s Dear Poetry Editor, we introduce you to Carrie Olivia Adams who lives in Chicago, where she is the poetry editor for Black Ocean. She is the author of Operating Theater (Noctuary Press 2015), Forty-One Jane Doe’s (book and companion DVD, Ahsahta 2013) and Intervening Absence (Ahsahta 2009) as well as the chapbooks “Grapple” (above/ground press 2017), “Overture in the Key of F” (above/ground press 2013), and “A Useless Window” (Black Ocean 2006).

bo3

On Perspectives of Poetry

Unfortunately, many people who are not poets, even many who are writers in other genres, assume that poetry is too difficult for them—it’s too much work or it’s a riddle that can only be penetrated by the initiated. I want to say: poetry is not a secret language for poets only.

And yet, these are people who might go to an art museum and stand in front of a Rothko or a Twombly, and while they might not be comfortable offering a critique, they are often content to offer a statement of preference—to like or dislike. Or, to offer a statement of mood—what they feel when they look at the piece. The same might be true if they encounter a piece of music or film or dance. What is it that makes us comfortable with abstract ideas in other genres, but shy away when we’re not sure whether to take language literally or figuratively? And yet, words are the medium we all share.

It can be simple. Poems don’t ask too much. Poems ask first and foremost that you encounter them. And then, now that you have that poem within your hands, understand that there is no right or wrong way to engage with a poem—just engage. What do you feel or see in your mind’s eye? What might it remind you of? Or how does it feel when you speak it aloud? Is it for a rainy day or the dark burrow of winter? Is it a solicitation, a push, a pull, a long thought, or a journey?

Remember, the poem doesn’t keep secrets. It tells secrets.

On Poetry

I am a lonely reader. Poetry is a companion for me. And, I want the kind of companion that challenges the everyday and offers an invitation to encounter the overlooked, to make a new world out of the material at hand, the same material I have dismissed as tired, worn out, and dull.

Poetry is humanity. It is a connection. It’s about listening—which we all, myself included, need to do more of. Let’s step outside the self-obsessed curation of the details of our own solipsistic stories, and listen. Sometimes poetry is a complement—a way to make sense of an experience that scratches up against us but we don’t yet have the words to explain. Sometimes poetry is our opposition—it shakes us out of ourselves and insists we refocus our eyes.

I want to live in a world with all of these poems—where they whisper to me, hum to me, squawk and squeal to me, shout to me in so many voices. Then, the world feels full, as it is meant to be.

On Publishing

Since it was founded in 2006, Black Ocean has been known for poems that take risks. They can be brash, aggressive, or assault. Yet, they can be cerebral, restrained, and haunting. They can be funny. They can be nerdy and rhetorical. They can be lyrical and stun with simple beauty. The joy is that there has not been one book that is the definitive Black Ocean title. Publishing on average four books a year has meant there are spaces and opportunities for diverse ways of approaching the questions of style and content in poetry, which is also a motivating reason why we try to include translations, such as Slovenian, Swedish, and Korean, on our list frequently. Our readers come to us to be surprised—to discover the many ways that poetry can speak and from the many perspectives that can bring it to life.

From the surrealism and absurdity of Zachary Schomburg to the dark sci-fi vibes of Aase Berg to the carnal and visceral images of Feng Sun Chen to the smart humor of Elisa Gabbert, Black Ocean’s books disrupt and remake. They think with you.

We’re also known for the visibility of our poets, and the fact that they can often be found in unusual places. Our poets travel actively to promote their work, and many of our long-time readers find us as a result of these events—be they traditional readings or multi-disciplinary adaptations—Black Ocean poems have become shadow-puppet shows, songs, plays, films—and inspired many, many tattoos.

On Regret

In twelve years of publishing books, no doubt our tastes have evolved. And during this evolution, we’ve seen thematic and stylistic fixations of poetry come and go. Yet, I am very proud to say that every book we’ve published, we believed to be the best possible book at the time. We have never charged for a contest or an open reading, so our accessibility means that we receive an enormous cross-section of the poetry world in our submissions. This gives us the fantastic freedom to choose only those books that we truly love and want to live with through the process. We do all that we can to ensure that our books represent the spirit of Black Ocean and our commitment to shaking up what poetry can be and what it can do and the shapes it can take and the audience it can find. We believe that there are poetry readers out there who do not yet know they are poetry fans, it just takes the right book or the right poet in the right place at the right time. And we continue to find them.

newsletter

Ruben Quesada is a contributing editor at Chicago Review of Books. He serves as faculty at Northwestern University, The School of the Art Institute, and Columbia College Chicago, where he teaches Latinx literature and poetry writing. His chapbook of poetry and translations, Revelations, is available from Sibling Rivalry Press, an inclusive publishing house whose entire catalog is housed in the Library of Congress’ Rare Book and Special Collections division.

1 comment on “Carrie Olivia Adams on Poetry that Challenges

  1. I just wanted to comment on your assertion that poems don’t ask too much or that they ask that you encounter them, or that there is no right or wrong way to to do so. Or that a valid interpretation is based on what a person feels or sees, what it reminds, or how it sounds in the voice; is it for a rainy day or one in winter; is it a solicitation, a push, a pull, a long thought, or a journey?

    A poem asks that you apply the denotations and connotations defined in the dictionary or else you might not know what the words mean or imply exactly. The grammar further defines how you must read the work. It only means what the words mean and the grammar outlines. A poet can fail if he/she doesn’t follow the rules. What you see has to be exact and what you feel has to called for. A poem is like an argument, it has to be of sound mind or else the reasoning is flawed. A poem gives you exactitude even if the words are abstract. Affectation seems to give a poem some kind of power. But, that power is just hot air unless the poem is absolutely perfect grammatically and definitively. I suggest that a poem be read with the cold shoulders of the grammar provided. Or in my case, since the poems often come to me as a voice, that it be read as it came. Don’t waste your time with whether it rains or storms, if it sells, which to me would disqualify it. If it pushes or pulls, was long or short, a journey; who the hell cares?

    A poem is a series of words. Does it make sense? Does it make the world disappear and you thinking becomes the main focus? It is about your relationship to a memory? One you didn’t know you had? Does it create a new world you didn’t know existed? It deals with feelings and noise. If there is any noise, failures in grammar or denotation or connotation, it becomes just a failed attempt. Just as when you read this, your angst is provoked because your experience says otherwise. In that sense, yes, you can argue what the poet is saying, because often the coinage of the words is new. After all, poetry is the best way of saying something. And it that sense, it becomes an argument. I once compared sonnets on the same subject by Shakespeare and Poe. And because the former was less specific, I went with Poe. He put the muscle and sinew on the bones.

    No, a poem can be nothing more than what it is and language is what creates the world.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: