Being a poet since the 1960′s, Diane Wakoski was part of the “deep image” movement, which means she’s resonant, has a stylised and heroic tone, and uses long poems as free-standing images. She also uses imagery and experiences to create deep meanings. Recent Poets similar to Wakoski in these aspects are: Jerome Rothenberg, Robert Kelly, and Clayton Eshelman. When she was in college at Berkeley, she participated in Thom Gunn’s poetry workshops and this is where she studied many modernist poets who would influence her writing. According to gunn, his poetry is based on contrast and contradiction. Gunn, like Wakoski uses free verse and intellectual discipline to create simple yet meaningful poems. In terms of big-time poets that Wakoski looks up to, her list includes Robert Lowell, Walt Whitman, William Carlos Williams, and Allen Ginsberg.
Diane Wakoski has looked to William Carlos Williams’ work throughout her career for inspiration and an example of simplicity and intimacy in writing. Writing in the “Williams mode”, Wakoski creates personal and conversational poems, such as “Junk Jewelry”. The following excerpt of “Junk Jewelry” uses common diction and flows as if Wakoski is lounging with one of her friends, discussing the jewelry her husband buys for her:
My husband buys me pearls,
the kind I like-freshwater, with their appearance
of gnarling and twisted nacre, but though
my horoscope always says I will love jewels, I
rarely deck myself witht hese pearls,
and I regularly over the years have lost at least one
and usually finally the second one of any pair of expensive
gold
earrings he buys for me. He knows
I want a wedding ring,
but it is the one jewel he never will
offer. A golden heart necklace for a recent anniversary,
and the next year a diamond for it. At Christmas, a subdued
and magical pair of antique amber drops to go with
my lucky amber tear necklace on an expensive gold chain he
gave me
the year bear.
Williams developed his poetry to attempt to create a “singularly American, entirely fresh “feel by experimenting with meter and lineation and centering the characters and matter of his poems on everyday life and the lives of regular people. His language and concepts were accesible to every reader, which were traits admired by Wakoski and included in her poetry. As you can see in “Junk Jewelry” (above), the poem is a simple narrative that describes every day elements like reading horoscopes, attempts of men to buy the perfect jewelry for their wives, and the speaker’s crisis of wanting a wedding ring from the man she loves. In his poem “To a Poor Old Woman”, Williams utilizes very common language and straightforward content:
munching a plum on
the street a paper bag
of them in her hand
They taste good to her
They taste good
to her. They taste
good to her
You can see it by
the way she gives herself
to the one half
sucked out in her hand
Comforted
a solace of ripe plums
seeming to fill the air
They taste good to her
Robert Lowell, although extremely different from Williams, also provided an influence on Wakoski’s work. He was known for exploring the dark side of America’s Puritan legacy and used formal poetry that included a masterful handling of meter and rhyme. He became a passionate objector during World War II and also protested agains Vietnam. In his life, he went to jail for his actions during the two wars and was often depressed and in psychological turmoil. After the brunt of these tough times passed, Lowell loosened his obsession with traditional form and meter and began to write more from personal experience. His poem “Dolphin” speaks from the first person, as Wakoski often does when sharing her personal observations and experiences.
“Dolphin”
My Dolphin, you only guide me by surprise,
a captive as Racine, the man of craft,
drawn through his maze of iron composition
by the incomparable wandering voice of Phèdre.
When I was troubled in mind, you made for my body
caught in its hangman's-knot of sinking lines,
the glassy bowing and scraping of my will. . . .
I have sat and listened to too many
words of the collaborating muse,
and plotted perhaps too freely with my life,
not avoiding injury to others,
not avoiding injury to myself--
to ask compassion . . . this book, half fiction,
an eelnet made by man for the eel fighting
my eyes have seen what my hand did.
This poem, starting as a description of a dolphin, involves into a window into Lowell’s mind and philosphy. It shares with the reader that he thinks he has ” plotted perhaps too freely with my life, not avoiding injury to others, not avoiding injury to myself. Diane Wakoski’s poem ” Red Bandana” serves the same purpose and also speaks from the first person, giving the reader a glance inside what she thinks of herself and the world around her:
I too, as I say, like to wear red bandannas, but to me
they are like wearing the sunshine
on my head
or around my neck, and I
didn’t think anyone could look at me
with my red bandanna smile,
wide as the Rio Grande River on my face,
which despite the summer is as white as a sailors summer uniform,
and not smile back. But you didn’t, and I don’t know why I am surprised. If I can change,
why cant the world? In the past I would have tried to
win you over, seduce you into poetry or truth. But today, you’ve left me
not smiling, and even less interested than I was before I met you
in bull fights,
in blood sport,
less willing to smile at you or
at any young matador or new sailor with my
once deductive, though never dishonest,
red-bandanna smile.
“Diane Wakoski, the poet, weaves a cacophony of texts—from myths to cultural icons, from scientific treatises to fairy tales, from the elements of personal biography to the text of The Wizard of Oz, from the architecture of the casino to the landscape of the desert—into a parodic, intertextual pastiche in order to interrogate, to critique, to subvert, and to rearrange the givens these texts assert. Further, in experimenting with alternative positionalities from which to view “reality,” she tests and explores feminine/feminist constructions, perceptions, and subjectivit(ies). by the “language” and by the “myths” of these texts to define women’s place, women’s experience, women’s roles, potentialities, and futures—indeed our very subjectivity. ”
“she must wend her way through the chaos of informing cultural texts—the images, allusions, fragments, letters, myths, features, sites, and names Wakoski weaves into her poetry. To the first-time reader, the sheer volume and apparent incongruence of this chaos overwhelms at times with apparent confusion, even disunity and triviality. But therein lies her challenge. She claims the poet must institute façades/masks/surfaces in order to strip them away (322). This patina of textuality replicates what we experience in our life-journey and insists we investigate exteriors to discover the great secrets (Wakoski, “Whitman? No, Wordsworth” 16) that lurk under the surface—layers and layers of potential meaning. Such stripping away enables enlightenment. In Toward a New Poetry, Wakoski defines enlightenment as “when you have to go through this journey of taking away your innocence and seeing things”
Cordelia Maxwell of Louisiana State University believes that Wakoski’s intertextuality is more utilized to portray the roles of women in literature and their mental psyche:
| “ I analyze Wakoskis poetry to discern ways women have been interpellated through language to set roles, relationships, performances, self-perceptions, and even bodies. Language and the cultural texts themselves serve as sites where women can contest the ways in which their subjectivities have been conceived and where these subjectivities can be revisioned. ” |
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