American poetry -- 19th century; American poetry -- 20th century
It would have been pleasant to divide the poetry itself into groups and
distinct tendencies. Unfortunately such a scheme is impossible. In the
first place, one can scarcely get a proper perspective on contemporary
writers (on whom the chief emphasis has been placed), especially since
many of them are still developing. Secondly, one cannot give the picture
of a period in the state of flux except by showing its fluid character.
The prime object of this collection is to reflect this very flux and
diversity—particularly illustrated by those poets who, because of their
strong individualism, would not fit in any one grouping. Since the
chronological arrangement is, therefore, the most logical one, an
arbitrary boundary has been fixed. The year 1830 becomes the
dividing-line; any poet born earlier than that date is ruthlessly
excluded. This, fortunately, eliminates scarcely any poet of value; for
between Whitman (born 1819) and Emily Dickinson (that early imagist),
there were no singers more memorable than the Cary sisters, Bayard
Taylor and the painfully precise Richard Henry Stoddard.
It is a happy circumstance that this volume should begin with Emily
Dickinson, whose work, posthumously printed, was unknown as late as 1890
and scarcely noticed until several years later. For here is a forerunner
of the new spirit—free in expression, unhampered in choice of subject,
penetrative in psychology—to which a countryful of writers has
responded. No longer confined to one or two literary centers, the
impulse to create is everywhere. There is scarcely a state, barely a
township, that has not produced its laureate.
Most of the poets represented in these pages have found a fresh and
vigorous material in a world of honest and often harsh reality. They
respond to the spirit of their times; not only have their views changed,
their vision has been widened to include things unknown to the poet of
yesterday. They have learned to distinguish real beauty from mere
prettiness; to wring loveliness out of squalor; to find wonder in
neglected places; to search for hidden truths even in the dark caves of
the unconscious.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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