Milk and Honey - Poetry Made Palatable

Here's something controversial - I think Rupi Kaur is overhyped. I open with this because it is the crux of today's post, in which I will address the rise and consequent fall of poetry in a 21st Century setting. Of course, I am no expert in poetry or the history of it; I am merely someone who appreciates and consumes poetry and wants to have a bit of a rant at the way the general populous responds to poetry in today's society. And since this blog is my own personal screaming chamber, I feel no remorse for mouthing off about how much the glorification of Rupi Kaur irritates me. With that said, let me begin.

I discovered milk and honey in early 2016, shortly after its republish by Andrews McMeel in October 2015. I had seen Kaur's poetry previously, around and about on Tumblr back when she posted it there. If I am completely honest, I liked her poetry, and if I am even more honest, I sometimes still do. I am not here to slam Kaur's poetry, the quality of it, or debate its merits. I thought her poetry was incredibly real and didactic if a bit cheesy and lazily written at times. I thoroughly enjoyed reading milk and honey and even found myself adoring some of the poems individually. This was, of course, prior to the worldwide phenomenon that the book became, so I felt as though I'd discovered a real gem.

As more and more people flocked to the works of Kaur over 2016 and 2017, I found myself excited for her sophomore poetry collection. I also found myself irritated by the pedestal the audience of her work had begun to put her on, but I could not really verbalise why I found it frustrating.

Skipping forward to The Sun and Her Flowers, in October 2017, I was at the end of my tether with Kaur. The book is, in short, underwhelming and incredibly lazy. The writing is mediocre, the poetry is pretty much the same as milk and honey - no growth, development, or new themes were incorporated. I was disappointed in The Sun and Her Flowers, but it did bring my attention to what my underlying issue is with Rupi Kaur, and poets like her (I'm naming and shaming Michael Faudet here too). What bothers me about these poets is not their writing, which though average and derivative, is perfectly fine to publish. I am not here to tell people what they can and can't like. What truly bothers me is the reception society has given these authors - as if they are somehow reinventing the art of poetry, as if they are god's gift to literature. Kaur is worshipped as the queen of 21st Century poetry, particularly by younger audiences.

Not only do I think this attitude is undeserved and just generally irritating, I think it actively affected Kaur's writing in The Sun and Her Flowers, and not in a positive way. Whilst reading the book, it felt like the poems were written to be "clickable", to be short, sweet, simple, cliche - the kind of writing you can take a quick snap of, upload it to Instagram or Snapchat. To me, it feels as though Kaur's goal is not to write collections of intricately written, cleverly constructed poems, but rather, create sound-byte poetry which is easily read and easily shared. And though I do not inherently disagree with creating such content, it frustrates me that it is received as ground-breaking and genre-defining.

What frustrates me even further is that there are poets out there who create good, breathtaking content. Poets who slave over every word, who carefully construct long poems about pressing issues. There are young, 21st Century poets who delicately weave prose in beautiful ways, and they are ignored in light of poets such as Kaur, who write five-line poems designed to be easily consumed and shared. To me, that is not what poetry is about. And I understand that what is popular is often not what deserves to be, but the fact that poets like Natalie Wee get ignored in the shadow of poets like Kaur feels unfair to me (please go and check her out, her work is amazing).

I maintain that Kaur has a place in the 21st Century poetry scene. She is undeniably the most famous female poet amongst my generation, and presumably those younger than me, so I know that she will continue to ride the wave until the last minute. Kaur isn't going anywhere, and that's fine, but what I hope is that other writers, poets with untapped unseen talent, are able to step up and showcase their work on the platform Kaur has created. Because though her poetry is, in my opinion, overhyped, it is her who has helped to reshape the 21st Century perception of poetry. She has, in some ways, brought poetry back to pop culture, back to mainstream content. For that, I commend her. Now, I am just eagerly awaiting the poetry of writers who will be the true heroes of 21st Century poetry - I know they're out there.

If you agree or if you don't, feel free to sound off in the comments (politely please!), or hit me up on my socials. You can email me at mywordsarearrows@gmail.com with business enquires, or even just to say hi.

Thank you for stopping by! If you've been around for a long time, please let me know what you think of this new kind of content. I will hopefully be back soon with another post!

Lily

I Spent the Morning in a Bookstore...

A brief preface...
I wrote this post a month or so ago. It is part reflection, part self-centred ramble, but I hope it explains where I've been, and is an indicator of the direction I wish to take with this blog in the future.

I am writing this after spending the morning in a bookstore. There is nothing usually notable about me in a bookstore; in fact, my body used to gravitate towards the entrances even when my bookshelves were bursting and my bank account was weeping. However, it had been a while since I had been in the store; I did not quite remember the titles like I used to, where they were, how they were stacked. It was strange because once, the store had felt like home and I felt at home in it, but this morning, wandering the aisles, something felt amiss. 

This blog post is unusual for me, but I think it’s important. I have, and it pains me to admit, fallen out of love with books, with young adult, with all of that which I used to so wholeheartedly adore. I have not finished reading a young adult book in about half a year, and even then the books I have completed are far and few between. Though it pains me to admit this, I think I must, because as the modern philosopher of our generation Dr Phil says, "you can't change what you don't acknowledge". And Dr Phil is never wrong.

Part of the reason it was so easy for me to fall out with fiction is the changes in my life. Going into my final years of school and then transitioning to university took a toll on me in many ways, but most relevantly, it took a toll on my ability and excitement to read for pleasure. I found myself busy and tired and combating all the common ailments to the everyday person’s relationship with literature, and I hate to say that I fell victim to them, but I did.

However, the falling out has prompted me to this revelation, so I suppose from the ashes I rise? I do not know, ultimately, how helpful my months away from this world I used to love have been, but at least I’m here now, defibrillator in hand, zapping the chest of My Words Are Arrows. 

Another thing I will address is my home within literature because as I grow and as I change, my place becomes less and less clear. I have, for the last ten years or so, found my home and heart within young adult fiction, and especially this blog has been dominated by my engagement with YA. I have built my brand on YA fiction. From a young age, YA offered me the kind of vast adventures, relatable characters, strong and intricate relationships that I wanted to see and wanted to read about. Young adult fiction became my passion and my pride, and I would show it off to all those I met, proudly reviewing and recommending and dedicating a lot of time to reading and writing YA fiction. And I swore I would never leave YA fiction because I had such a strong unwavering belief in and love for it. So here is where I make a declaration - I will never leave YA fiction, but I will not stay within its walls exclusively. And on this blog, from here on out, I will not be afraid to address books and works that lay outside the realm of YA.

I am in a strange place in my life right now. I am 18 years old, my debut novel came out three years ago, I am studying creative writing, but I am entirely lost and often sure I have already peaked. The world we live does not lend itself to creative writers anymore, female writers especially. However, I think giving up would be inconsistent with who I am, even after all this change. I also do not have a backup plan, so there’s that. But truthfully, I miss my home in the literary scene, I miss writing posts, and I miss tearing through books. So here I am, after months on my own, standing in front of my old place in YA literature, my new place in mainstream fiction, and I am back to stay, even if I have to work it out as I go.

I hope anyone who has kept up with this blog can bear with me, and I hope the new content I produce can appeal to a whole new branch of individuals! Also, for anyone new having a peek at my blog, I apologise for any cringey posts I may have made previously. And hopefully, I'll see you all soon.