M H Whitworth wrote -

>Is metaphor an intrinsic feature of poems, or a feature of the way we
>interpret them? One can read a scientific text for its figurative
>language: a text on entropy for what it says about boundaries, morality,
>etc, or for what it says about steam engines and the dying sun. How as a
>writer can one manage the reader's interpretive programme in this regard,
>and is such management desirable?
>
All language and understanding is in some way dependent on the relationships
to words and the concepts which they carry, or rather which we bring to them
as part of their identity. The writer selects a word not just because of
its dictionary definition, but sometimes in spite of it and because of an
overwhelming need to express something which can only be expressed in the
context of the poem by the word selected. Quite what the reader makes of
this depends on their frames of reference or experience and whether or not
the word carries the same resonance for them.

Some writers have layered poetry in ways which demand a multitude of
interpretations almost dependent on the mood of the reader. Shakespeare's
sonnet (the number escapes me) which is on the theme of lust, (..in a waste
of shame.. ) is a poem which always comes to my mind in this regard.

As to whether this is desirable... it is necessary, essential perhaps, but
so often the intention of the writer falls to ruin when the metaphors
implanted are superseded by the readers interpretation. Any art is a form
of communication, and communication is two way. To my mind the reader is as
essential to bringing the poem to life as the writer. So a plain white
canvas hanging on an art gallery wall can mean nothing to one viewer but can
be viewed as a great piece of art by another. It is in the hope that
someone will explain what my poems mean to them that I persist in writing
and submitting mine.

On the point of realism. I wrote a poem about the River Mersey which was
"simply" an evocation of the life and industry that grew because of it very
factual, with some light flourishes, but the end moved to a fact which I
wanted to mean a lot more to the readers.

    And all the time this river flowed
    It ploughed it's way through
    Rock ...

    Water seeking
    But still not able to find
    It's own level.


So in the end as in so many river images I wanted it to be a metaphor for
life, but I don't think I will ever know what it means to those who read or
hear it, just as long as it means something.


Jim

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