There is no doubt that we are living in an American English Renaissance of poetry that surpasses by every measure the actual English Renaissance. The English Renaissance had Shakespeare, Jonson, Tourneur, Webster, Milton and (let’s be generous) and say seven more almost great or almost but not quite near great poets. We have, according to Ron Silliman’s blog, at least 4,000 and more great poets each week and are adding to that figure at the average rate of three per week. Not only that, while our poets surpass the poor Shakespeares etc. in the range and depth of their art, they also display a spirituality that shames the money grubbers of long-ago London. Although the hangers on at the Mermaid Tavern, the Shakespeare gang, were (we should concede) occasionally able to write a few fine lines (and here let’s recall Bertie Wooster’s judgment on the Bard – Sounds well but doesn’t mean a thing) they were (to a man and I mean a man) Awful Persons. Shakespeare abandoned his
wife, poached deer, had pretensions above his class, Webster was a necrophile, Jonson was a drunk and duelist, Tourneur continued to carelessly not write the plays that are ascribed to him. (Shakespeare may be guilty of this too). I won’t even mention the abominable Philip Marlowe.
But spend a few hours visiting the blogs of our current poets. Each projects a rare spirituality, a compassion for all Beings and Non-Beings, a spiritual and intellectual awareness that allows them to contemplate the Eternal. No factions there, no petty jealousies, no spewing of hate, no pretensions whatsoever.
Why here in the USA? Why now? We don’t know. We simply praise God that we live here in this blessed land, this new Jerusalem, this Avalon, this Crossroad of Eternity, this shining city on a hill, this unsceptered land mass.
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