This morning I was listening to the most recent podcast of On Being with host Krista Tippett. This show was an interview with Irish poet Michael Longley who has written such powerful poems as Ceasefire and The Ice-Cream Man. He has lived with and through the violence of Northern Ireland to the relative peace since the 1998 Good Friday Agreement only to see the same sort of strife which plagued his home country for so long take over so much of the rest of the world.
His poems make me smile, often move me to tears and take me outside of my narrow range of thinking.
I was particularly interested in what he says about the role of art including poetry in our culture. Mr. Longley says in this conversation:
“I think what art can do is to tune you up. And good art, good poems is making people more human, making them more intelligent, making them more sensitive and emotionally pure than they might otherwise be. And one of the marvelous things about poetry is that it’s useless. It’s useless. “What use is poetry?” people occasionally ask in the butcher shop, say. They come up to me and they say, “What use is poetry?”
…And the answer is no use, but it doesn’t mean to say that it’s without value. It’s without use, but it is valuable.”
When I think of poetry dance, painting, sculpture and other forms of art I think of honesty and truth. It seems to me that us humans have a need to know and to speak the truth even when we are fearful of it. In my experience many poems force me to pay attention to uncomfortable truths or truths which I might enjoy but not ordinarily speak of in public. Art cannot lie and this is its value. The truth may not be pretty, pleasant or welcomed but there it is naked and often catching one unaware. I know better than to listen to or read poetry (in song or verse) in public space in which one’s naked emotions may burst forth without warning and make others uncomfortable. I know this and, yet, I seem to forget and then find myself on the treadmill, rowing machine or doing some other exercise crying with joy or sadness as I was this morning.
Mr. Michael Longley talks of poetry being transcendental. It does seem to transcend the mundaneness of the ordinary by making the ordinary speak it larger truth. The truth it forces us – certainly me – to face may be loudly broadcasting from the seeming negative or blank space. For example, if I speak of this Presidential campaign in the United States and merely say:
“The passion of this United States Presidential Election campaign is intense.” I have not spoken in context of the hate and fear which has dominated the campaign. Yet, we “know” that is the truth to which it is referring. When Mr. Longley reads his powerful poem “Ceasefire” the distance one often has to travel to forgiveness is woven into the poem, but can be missed by the casual reader or the freshly grieving parent.
Just the other day, a friend asked me about the importance of music in my life. I replied that it feeds my soul. It connects me to the universe in a way which transcends the language in which the composer was feeling or thinking. If I listen to Bach, Beethoven or Handel I do not need to listen in the native tongue of the composer. The composer has tapped into the heart of our being which does not need the spoken language “de jour”.
I feel an enormous debt to the artists who have the courage to reach into the depth of their being to share what the universal truth which are necessary if we are even to create a more just and loving world. I invite the reader to experience the poetry of Michael Longley by listening to the podcast to which I have referred or reading one of the twenty books of his poems.
Written November 4, 2016