Citation

Levertov, Denise. “Some Notes on Organic Form.” The Poet in the World, by Denise Levertov, W W Norton & Co Inc, 1973, pp. 7–13.

Quotes

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Collations

There is a discoverable form behind a poem.

back of the idea of organic form is the concept that there is a form in all things (and in our experience) which the poet can discover and reveal.

Conception of content and reality influence ideas of poetic form

There are no doubt temperamental differences between poets who use prescribed forms and those who look for new ones

but the difference in their conception of "content" or "reality" is functionally more important.

Fluid vs Inherent Form

On the one hand is the idea that content, reality, experience, is essentially fluid and must be given form; on the other, this sense of seeking out inherent, though not immediately apparent, form.

Inscape is intrinsic form

"inscape" to denote intrinsic form, the pattern of essential characteristics both in single objects and (what is more interesting) in objects in a state of relation to each other

the inscape of an experience (which might be composed of any and all of these elements, including the sensory or of the inscape of a sequence or constellation of experiences.

Instress is the experience of perceiving the inscape

"instress" to denote the experiencing of the perception of inscape, the apperception of inscape.

apperception: the mental process by which a person makes sense of an idea by assimilating it to the body of ideas he or she already possesses.

Levertov extends the use of inscape and instress to intellectual and emotional experience

In thinking of the process of poetry as I know it, I extend the use of these words, which he seems to have used mainly in reference to sensory phenomena, to include intellectual and emotional experience as well

Organic poetry

A partial definition, then, of organic poetry might be that it is a method of apperception, i.e., of recognizing what we perceive, and is based on an intuition of an order, a form beyond forms, in which forms partake, and of which man's creative works are analogies, resemblances, natural allegories. Such poetry is exploratory.

The goal of an organic poet is to uncover through contemplation and meditation the inherent form of a poem.

An organic poem begins with an intense experience that demands a poem

How does one go about such a poetry? I think it's like this: first there must be an experience, a sequence or constellation of perceptions of sufficient interest, felt by the poet intensely enough to demand of him their equivalence in words: he is brought to speech.

But the condition of being a poet is that periodically such a cross section, or constellation, of experiences (in which one or another element may predominate) demands, or wakes in him this demand: the poem.

A poet begins to respond to a demand for an organic poem through contemplation and meditation

The beginning of the fulfillment of this demand is to contemplate, to meditate; words which connote a state in which the heat of feeling warms the intellect.

So-as the poet stands openmouthed in the temple of life, contemplating his experience, there come to him the first words of the poem: the words which are to be his way in to the poem, if there is to be a poem. The pressure of demand and the meditation on its elements culminate in a moment of vision, of crystallization, in which some inkling of the correspondence between those elements occurs; and it occurs as words.

If he forces a beginning before this point, it won't work.

Contemplation

To contemplate comes from “templum, temple, a place, a space for observation, marked out by the augur.” It means, not simply to observe, to regard, but to do these things in the presence of a god.

Meditation

And to meditate is "to keep the mind in a state of contemplation"; its synonym is "to muse, and to muse comes from a word meaning "to stand with open mouth"—not so comical if we think of "inspiration"—to breathe in.

The first words drawing entry into an organic poem

These words sometimes remain the first, sometimes in the completed poem their eventual place may be elsewhere, or they may turn out to have been only forerunners, which fulfilled their function in bringing him to the words which are the actual beginning of the poem.

Contemplation and meditation leads the poet into the inscape of an organic poem

It is faithful attention to the experience from the first moment of crystallization that allows those first or those forerunning words to rise to the surface: and with that same fidelity of attention the poet, from that moment of being let in to the possibility of the poem, must follow through, letting the experience lead him through the world of the poem, its unique inscape revealing itself as he goes.

A poet's entire being commune and interact to write a poem

During the writing of a poem the various elements of the poet's being are in communion with each other, and heightened. Ear and eye, intellect and passion, interrelate more subtly than at other times; and the "checking for accuracy," for precision of language, that must take place throughout the writing is not a matter of one element supervising the others but of intuitive interaction between all the elements involved.

Content and form are in dynamic interaction during the writing of a poem

In the same way, content and form are in a state of dynamic interaction; the understanding of whether an experience is a linear sequence or a constellation raying out from and into a central focus or axis, for instance, is discoverable only in the work, not before it.

The circling of perception when writing a poem manifests in a poem through repetition or variation

Rhyme, chime, echo, reiteration: they not only serve to knit the elements of an experience but often are the very means, the sole means, by which the density of texture and the returning or circling of perception can be transmuted into language, apperceived.

A may lead to E directly through B,C, and D: but if then there is the sharp remembrance or revisioning of A, this return must find its metric counterpart. It could do so by actual repetition of the words that spoke of A the first time (and if this return occurs more than once, one finds oneself with a refrain—not put there because one decided to write something with a refrain at the end of each stanza, but directly because of the demand of the content). Or it may be that since the return to A is now conditioned by the journey through B, C, and D, its words will not be a simple repetition but a variation.

Nonaural rhymes in organic poetry

Again, if B and D are of a complementary nature, then their thought- or feeling-rhyme may find its corresponding word-rhyme. Corresponding images are a kind of nonaural rhyme.

The weakening of the intensity of contemplation creates stanzas

It usually happens that within the whole, that is between the point of crystallization that marks the beginning or onset of a poem and the point at which the intensity of contemplation has ceased, there are distinct units of awareness; and it is—for me anyway—these that indicate the duration of stanzas.

Sometimes these units are of such equal duration that one gets a whole poem of, say, three-line stanzas, a regularity of pattern that looks, but is not, predetermined.

The form an organic poem ultimately takes is created through fidelity to instress

there can arise, out of fidelity to instress, a design that is the form of the poem—both its total form, its length and pace and tone, and the form of its parts (e.g., the rhythmic relationships of syllables within the line, and of line to line; the sonic relationships of vowels and consonants; the recurrence of images, the play of associations, etc.).

"Form follows function" (Louis Sullivan).

"the reality of the building lies in the space within it, to be lived in." (Frank Lloyd Wright)

"Such as the life is, such is the form." (Coleridge)

"Ask the fact for the form." (Emerson)

Measure in organic poetry

In organic poetry the metric movement, the measure, is the direct expression of the movement of perception.

The varying speed and gait of different strands of perception within an experience (I think of strands of seaweed moving within a wave) result in counterpointed measures.

The sound of an organic poem imitates the feeling of an experience

And the sounds, acting together with the measure, are a kind of extended onomatopoeia—i.e., they imitate not the sounds of an experience (which may well be soundless, or to which sounds contribute only incidentally)—but the feeling of an experience, its emotional tone, its texture.

Most free verse is failed organic poetry

most free verse is failed organic poetry, that is, organic poetry from which the attention of the writer had been switched off too soon, before the intrinsic form of the experience had been revealed.

Some poetry don't search for inherent form but express emotion as purely as possible

But Robert Duncan pointed out to me that there is a "free verse" of which this is not true, because it is written not with any desire to seek a form, indeed perhaps with the longing to avoid form (if that were possible) and to express inchoate emotion as purely as possible. See, for instance, some of the forgotten poets of the early 20's—also, some of Amy Lowell-Sandburg-John Gould Fletcher. Some Imagist poems were written in "free verse" in this sense

Per Levertov, poems that aim to express emotions as purely as possible can't escape searching for inherent form

if, as I suppose, there is an inscape of emotion, of feeling, it is impossible to avoid presenting something of it if the rhythm or tone of the feeling is given voice in the poem.

Organic poetry necessitates revision for organic wholeness compared to most free verse

free verse isolates the "rightness" of each line or cadence—if it seems expressive, o.k., never mind the relation of it to the next; while in organic poetry the peculiar rhythms of the parts are in some degree modified, if necessary, in order to discover the rhythm of the whole.

But doesn't the character of the whole depend on, arise out of, the character of the parts? It does; but it is like painting from nature: suppose you absolutely imitate, on the palette, the separate colors of the various objects you are going to paint; yet when they are closely juxtaposed in the actual painting, you may have to lighten, darken, cloud, or sharpen each color in order to produce an effect equivalent to what you see in nature. Air, light, dust, shadow, and distance have to be taken into account.

Form sense in organic poetry

in organic poetry the form sense or "traffic sense," as Stefan Wolpe speaks of it, is ever present along with (yes, paradoxically) fidelity to the revelations of meditation.

A manifestation of form sense is the sense the poet's ear has of some rhythmic norm peculiar to a particular poem, from which the individual lines depart and to which they return.

This sense of the beat or pulse underlying the whole I think of as the horizon note of the poem. It interacts with the nuances or forces of feeling which determine emphasis on one word or another, and decides to a great extent what belongs to a given line. It relates the needs of that feeling-force which dominates the cadence to the needs of the surrounding parts and so to the whole.

Poetry of linguistic impulse

a variety of organic poetry: the poetry of linguistic impulse. It seems to me that the absorption in language itself, the awareness of the world of multiple meaning revealed in sound, word, syntax, and the entering into this world in the poem, is as much an experience or constellation of perceptions as the instress of nonverbal sensuous and psychic events.

What might make the poet of linguistic impetus appear to be on another tack entirely is that the demands of his realization may seem in opposition to truth as we think of it; that is, in terms of sensual logic. But the apparent distortion of experience in such a poem for the sake of verbal effects is actually a precise adherence to truth, since the experience itself was a verbal one.

Form is never more than a revelation of content.

Levertov's interpretation of perception directly follows perception

"The law—one perception must immediately and directly lead to a further perception.” I've always taken this to mean, “no loading of the rifts with ore," because there are to be no rifts.

There must be a place in a poem for gaps too

there must be a place in the poem for rifts too never to be stuffed with imported ore). Great gaps between perception and perception which must be leapt across if they are to be crossed at all.

The X-factor, the magic, is when we come to those rifts and make those leaps.

A religious devotion to the truth, to the splendor of the authentic, involves the writer in a process rewarding in itself; but when that devotion brings us to undreamed abysses and we find ourselves sailing slowly over them and landing on the other side-that's ecstasy.

Literature notes

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