Denise Levertov in “Some Notes on Organic Form” sets out to identify and define some of the key characteristics and/or processes of “organic form poetry.” She based her discussion upon Gerard Hanley Hopkins’ coining of the terms “inscape” and “instress” as referentials to sensory perception: to denote intrinsic form, the pattern of essential characteristics both in single objects and (what is more interesting) in objects in a state of relation to each other, and the word “instress” to denote the experiencing of the perception of inscape, the apperception of inscape.
Levertov further expands Hopkin’s meaning of “inscape” to a poet’s experience, or, rather, the sequence or constellation of experiences of sensory elements that comprise the experience:
A partial definition, then, of organic poetry might be that it is a method of apperception, i.e., of recognizing what we perceive , and is based on an intuition of an order, a form beyond forms, in which forms partake , and of which man’s creative works are analogies, resemblances, natural allegories. Such poetry is exploratory.
Levertov also identifies other key characteristics of organic poetry such as; content and form are in dynamic interaction with each other; rhyme and chime, amongst other sound mechanisms, are not only at play within the poem but create the density and texture of the poem; and, most interesting, is her claim that metric movement is a direct expression of the perception of movement. This last characteristic encompasses the idea that sounds through alliteration, assonance, consonance, anaphora, etc., blend together to create what she calls an extended onomatopoeia. Meanwhile, in harmony with these sound devices, Levertov points to another chief characteristic which follows one of Olson’s laws of the poetics related to the Black Mountain poets and the school of Projective verse, that one perception must immediately and directly lead to another perception.
Levertov’s poetics are similar to a concatenation of sights and sounds in which appercetion of X circles back to that of A, etc. An example of this can be found in her poem “Spring 1961”, verses 4 and 5: leave us alone on the road/the road leads to the sea. Here the interchange between the sight sensory of alone/road and road/sea combined with the assonance of leave/lead/sea tightly connects these two tercets while simultaneously disorients the reader in a vast empty space, conveying the sense of bewilderment and loss one might feel upon the death of a loved one. In fact, a major theme that resonates throughout Levertov’s opus is the redemptive quality of nature upon the human psyche, returning to quintessentially romantic/transcendental themes.
Reading Levertov’s “Some Notes on Organic Poetry” reminded me of a poem I wrote this summer. I felt that I identified with her process; especially the apperception of objects in a state of relation to each other and the emphasis on an ‘extended onomatopoeia” and/or sound devices. As a disclaimer, I wouldn’t argue that the following poem elevates itself to any school of poetics nor any level of sublimity- certainly not to the likes of the poets we read this week. Frankly, it is quite banal. However, the timing is apropo: I am celebrating my 10th year anniversary with my husband this week and I wrote this poem for him this summer. His favorite holiday is the Fourth of July. He is like a big kid with hot dogs, corn on the cob, and fireworks. In any case, this summer was the first 4th of July we’re not together in ten years, so I wrote him the following:
Remembrance
Sitting
silently
soaking up the summer sun
watching the gators swim up creek
searching for snakes, and other prey to eat.
I settle in and sigh-
It’s the Fourth of July
cornstalks kneehigh, soon
cotton buds will burst
meanwhile
the summer sun engoldens
the glades of marsh grass
the western sky’s ablaze
God’s Grace
the smile
which adorns
your face.
I love how exploring a poetics of objects in relation to each other feeds so well into poems that themselves, explore relations–to the past, to one’s beloved. I love her idea of an extended onomatopoeia. It establishes an almost impossible ideal for poetry where everything in a poem stands in unpredictable–yet perfect–relation to other units and to the broader inscape of an experience. It’s a lovely idea, and I’m happy it brought you back to this poem!