They are defending creative writing at the Huffpost. But look:
1. The real work of writing is two-fold: reading and writing in solitude.
2. Good literature classes teach literature.
3. Students do creative writing beginning in grade school.
This is all you need. Note what’s missing from the above. The creative writing class. The point is not that the creative writing class for older students might not help, but the real issue is: what does the creative writing program as a ubiquitous, nation-wide phenomenon provide?
Why aren’t literature classes and the writing all students do in school starting in the early grades, and the reading and writing they do in solitude enough?
Lousy schools? Lazy writers?
So is a ‘creative writing class’ going to help a student who hasn’t read enough literature, either because he’s too lazy, or the schools have failed him or her? No way. Even creative writing teachers admit they are no substitute for reading literature.
So what exactly is going on in those ‘creative writing classes?’ No wonder the huffpost writers gave no specifics, beyond, well it’s good to put would-be writers in a room together and have a writer ‘teach’ them.
Can you imagine Shelley and Byron and Keats sitting in a classroom together as writing students? It’s laughable.
The writer has to find himself in solitude, not trying to please another writer sitting next to him in a classroom. This is just common sense.
Finally, and no one talks about this except Scarriet, the whole Creative Writing Industry was started by a handful of men—the movement has a history, and it happens that the men who started the Creative Writing Industry had a certain bias for ‘new’ poetry, and this, of course, is the trump card of the creative writing industry: You don’t write very well, but we’re going to teach you how to write like a contemporary, approved by your peers. The default ‘sameness’ of the creative writing industry is that you are not allowed to write like Shelley or Keats or Byron. Write any way you like! But if we sniff the faintest smell of ‘old’ on you, you’re gone.
But the so-called ‘old’ is where really great writing resides, and the contemporary ought to be simply who you are—you shouldn’t have to go through a brainwasing session in a creative writing class so that you can sound ‘contemporary.’
How we get from the sublimity of Shelley to the inanity of Silliman is not something the ahistorical dweebs of the MFA will ever figure out.
For this is where it all leads. Recently on his blog Ron Silliman pretended serious analysis of the following.
I saw the corpse of the plum tree
of the camel his splattered guts
the soiled tears of the child
the sniffle of orphan light
I abandoned the pursuit of art
to sleep for eternity
under the fevered feet of my children
“It calls to mind Pound’s old dictum that poetry needs to be at least as well written as prose,” Silliman writes. But Pound wrote bad prose which was passed off as good poetry. Well, but Silliman can’t help it. Nutty Pound-worship is just what these guys do. It’s the track the train must run on. Silliman sees into the life of this excerpt, but none of the rest of us do. And this, too, is part of the game.
The “new” MFA thing now is the so-called “The New Sincerity” which features “sincere,” “naive,” or “childlike” poetry by poets such as Matt Hart, Tao Lin, Dorothea Lasky and Nate Pritts. But this is a mere throw-back to Frank O’Hara. There is not the least formal interest here. There is more formal interest in one stanza of Shelley than in all this poetry.
Until modern poetry really comes to terms with the major Romantic poets, nothing is going to improve, or help poetry to become popular again.
Modern poetry and Creative Writing are now synomymous. The idea is not to grow poets, but to grow paying poetry students—who are beholden to canonizing their instructors, with the possibility of being canonized, in turn. This is precisely what the modern poets, beginning with Pound and Eliot and their lawyer, John Quinn, and continuing with their academic friends, the New Critics, did, and therefore the very idea of the “modern” in poetry is linked with the business model of Creative Writing.
This is such a self-evident fact, that Creative Writing officials are blind to it. The difficulty here is that you can’t teach the new. Nor can one teach the light of which poetry is the mere shadow; the cause of poetry cannot be taught, either. Life teaches this, not Creative Writing, which is its pale substitute—poets mingling with poets, in a frenzied attempt to be “modern” or “contemporary.” But the “contemporary” is a shadow of a shadow, and chasing it, we find poetry to be in the sorry state it is today.
The Creative Writing industry may be a successful, and nearly flawless institutional model. But no great poet has ever written for an institution, or to flatter and be flattered by their peers. The Creative Writing industry cannot teach itself out of this dilemma; its default setting is fashionable appearance which appeals to the contemporary spirit.
Socrates long ago identified those who charge a fee for a vague kind of ‘learning.’