I know we began this course by saying we wouldn’t bring up war poets, and though I’d love to spare everyone the Dulce et decorum est, I feel like in order to understand the human aspect of conflict, we need to look to poetry. Poetry is a genre typically bound by English convention, short and concise, a form where each word has its place. It’s interesting, then, when it is chosen as a vehicle of resistance.
Our conventional view of poetry is that it is a constrained medium that tends to alienate the public. Whether the traditional subject matter, formulaic construction, or outdated language, Rudyard Kipling-esque poems seem to dominate our views of poetry. Even national anthems, to an extent, are a version of poetry that clings tightly to epic, sweeping statements reaffirming national identity within a very traditional metrical form.
Though poetry has been used as a vehicle for criticisms of English control, traditions of poetry can mean that it is not an effective form of resistance. Look to Yeats’ Leda and the Swan, a mythopoesis in which Leda’s rape is a metaphor for Britain’s century-long political rape of Ireland. Even in this act of rebellion, Yeats writes in English, the language of the oppressor. For English colonists, imposing their language robbed others of a political voice, rendering opposition to the regime impossible without feeding into English domination. Resistance becomes intertwined with some degree of complicity. Looking at Yeats, it is difficult to see how the rigidity of poetry could ever be useful in rebellions meant to defy control.
Yet the fact that it is a rigid medium can contribute to poetry’s function as a front of resistance. Take Grace Nichols’ post-colonial collection “The Fat Black Woman’s Poems”, where through missed punctuation and random indentations, the typical strict grammar and form of poetry are broken, resisting English norms within the very structure of her writing. The rules set out by the conventions of poetry means that the breaking of these rules is akin to the breaking of English restrictions. Nichols uses English all whilst rebelling against it. Words used to oppress black people, such a ‘steatopygous’, are turned into words of celebration. Nichols does not care for the definitions she’s been told to respect, but rather defines things for herself. Within Nichols’ poetry, readers come to understand the power language has, both as a tool of colonialism and of resistance. By challenging the limits of language, Nichols redefines the limits of her world.
There could still be the argument that poetry is unlikely to ever help in political resistance. It may seem that the average Irish farmer isn’t reading feminist poetry. Yet even then, by getting the diversity of voices into the genre, it slowly becomes more accessible. Variations of poetry like rap allow these alternative stories of conflict to be told and consumed by the general public. Even then, so much of the point of resistance poetry is to infiltrate academic spaces that have for so long prioritized only the English voice. Repossessing the medium brings attention to those silenced in conflicts. Though poetry may never be the spark that creates a new world order, it remains a subtle way of bringing diversity into our discussions of conflict.
Poetry is probably one of the most fantastic things to exist. Resistance poetry is even better.The quote “By challenging the limits of language, Nichols redefines the limits of her world” speaks volumes as to what poetry should be-changing the views of the world. Poetry is still used today, in rap (it even stands for rhythm and poetry). N.W.A., Biggie Smalls and Tupac were redefining the world’s view of Compton and Harlem, what the African American communities really were. Their use of swear words changes what poetry was, turning it into a modern-day medium for rebellion. Poetry is not just a great way to rebel. It’s the way to rebel.