Sometimes I’m thinking about poetry itself, not reading a specific poem. On my last trip I found myself arguing against what I remember as a definition of poetry as “strong emotion recollected in tranquility.” Of course this argument was all inside my own head, thus relieving the passengers nearby of listening to me skewer my own logic and talk myself in circles. Why only strong emotion? Is there nothing of value in less strident feelings? Must it always be emotion, or are there ideas, circumstances, which are of more interest than the emotion itself? Don’t poems also make statements on culture, technology, ideology? And can’t the emotion be projected, supposed or surmised? Must it always be recollected? Turns out, I was arguing with myself for no reason.
Let me explain. Do you ever remember something just slightly off from the factual truth? Or have trouble remembering a situation?
A friend posted on Facebook a photo of a small waterfall in a state park. I saw that photo and had immediate, vivid recollections of climbing the shale ledges along that waterfall as a GirlScout. Or, perhaps I was camping there with my family. I’m not sure anymore. It could have been either, or, given the location, both might have occurred in the same summer.
Similarly, those in law enforcement know that witnesses aren’t always as reliable as they might seem, no matter how much they may insist they know what happened. Many factors influence memory recall: stress, time, focus on part of a scene, differences of culture and paradigm. Witnesses remember what they think they saw, and the human brain is so good at connecting the pieces of information it receives into a cohesive whole, that the witnesses often have no idea how wrong is their recall.
But, sometimes, we are just wrong. I can’t tell you where or when I heard the quote about “strong emotion recollected in tranquility.” During the time I was in Atlanta changing planes, I looked up the source of the quote, only to find that I either heard it, was told it, or remembered it incorrectly.
The source is William Wordsworth’s introduction to Lyrical Ballads, published in 1800:
I have said that poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility: the emotion is contemplated till, by a species of reaction, the tranquility gradually disappears, and an emotion, kindred to that which was before the subject of contemplation, is gradually produced, and does itself actually exist in the mind
Note that he speaks of powerful feeling, not strong feeling. Powerful feeling has a better ring to me. Powerful feelings might be weak on the surface but create an intense situation or response. Powerful feelings remind me of the adage ‘still waters run deep,’ whereas strong feelings seem strident, harsh, or out of control.
Wordsworth also talks about the poem having origin in the recollection in tranquility, not being equated to the recollection in tranquility itself. Nitpicking? Maybe. But Wordsworth is speaking to process, not definition, here.
I still take issue with the idea that the origin must be an emotion, as opposed to an idea. Also, I take issue with the concept of spontaneous overflow as described, since the creation of that overflow requires a process not spontaneous at all. However, I have a much better opinion of the quote now that I see it accurately, and in context. How I got the corrupted version (like a corrupted computer file) stuck in my brain, I’m not sure. But I sure am glad to get the uncorrupted version installed.
Now that you’ve seen Wordsworth’s description of poetic process, what is your point of view? Do you agree with his process or see it differently?