Beyond the Verse - Inconsistent Miracles in Danez Smith's 'dear white america'
Episode Date: August 7, 2024In this week’s episode of “Beyond the Verse,” the official podcast of PoemAnalysis.com and Poetry+, Joe and Maiya explore the poem ‘dear white america’ by Danez Smith, a powerful piece by on...e of the most influential contemporary poets.They discuss ‘dear white america’ (2017), examining not only the systemic injustices and racial trauma addressed in the poem, but also the cultural and personal dimensions that shape Smith’s work. Joe and Maiya delve into Smith’s literary influences, the impact of spoken word on their poetry, and their significant role in the modern American literary canon.Get PDFs on ‘dear white america’ exclusive to Poetry+ users:Full PDF GuidePoetry Snapshot PDFFor more information on Smith and their work, check out poemanaylsis.com, where you can find a vast selection of analyzed poems, with PDFs to aid, and explorations in our extensive PDF Learning Library - see our Danez Smith PDF Guide.Plus, stay tuned to get some recommendations for alternate poets inspired by Smith’s work!Tune in and Discover:Smith’s position in the canon and role in modern American literatureKey themes throughout ‘dear white america’ and the poet’s other worksSmith’s background and poetic influencesThe significance of the epistolary form, incarceration, and historical context in the poemSend us a textSupport the showAs always, for the ultimate poetry experience, join Poetry+ and explore all things poetry at PoemAnalysis.com.
Transcript
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I've left Earth in search of darker planets, a solar system revolving too near a black hole.
I've left in search of a new God. I do not trust the God you have given us. My grandmother's
hallelujah is only outdone by the fear she nurses every time the blood-fat summer swallows another
child who used to sing in the choir. Take your God back. Though his songs are beautiful, his miracles,
inconsistent.
Welcome to Beyond the Verse with me, Joe, and my co-host, Meyer, who was just reading the opening
lines of Danez Smith's 2017 poem, Dear White America, which is the subject of today's
episode.
We're going to be talking about a number of themes today, including epistolary writing,
the recurrent symbols in Smith's work, and how their work relates to the American canon.
But, Maya, before we kick off with the poem itself, can you tell us a little bit about
Danes Smith and where they got to at the point they wrote this collection in 2017?
Yes, absolutely. So Dana Smith was born and raised in St. Paul, Minnesota. They were raised a devout
Baptist and are queer, non-binary and HIV positive. All of these things inform their collections,
their work, and at present have three collections. They released Insert Boy in 2014. Don't Call Us
Dead, the collection we're talking about today in 2017, and homie in 2020. We're very excited. They have a new
collection coming out soon called Bluff. In interviews with Smith, they've discussed how a lot of
their poems were inspired by the kind of revealing nature of the Sunday sermon. In interviews with
Smith, they've discussed how their work is not something that is intended for white people,
but it is created in order for white people to learn from. The intended audience is very much
the communities that Smith hails from. Now, Joe, can you tell us a little,
bit about this collection specifically and where Smith sits within the poetic canon.
So this is the 2017 collection Don't Call Us Dead, which really shot Smith to poetic stardom.
The collection won the Ford Prize, the best collection, and Smith became the youngest ever
winner of that award, as well as the collection's opening poem at Summer Somewhere, which I know
is a favourite of yours. Maybe we'll talk about that a little bit later on. That poem was awarded
the four quartets prize as well. So very, very, very.
respected and received a lot of awards and this is really interesting because Smith's
background in poetry was predominantly in spoken word and they've spoken a lot about influence of
performativity and live events in the formation of their work and as we're going to be discussing
in our Q&A episode which listeners can get next week awards have traditionally looked down upon
or perhaps left out spoken word artists and so this was a really interesting moment to see
Smith break into the American mainstream and we're going to be discussing a little bit
more about how Smith relates to other American greats that have come before them
because they're still a very, very young poet, and of course they're still a poet very much
still working. But going back to the poem itself, the title harks back to a 2015 letter,
which is published in the New York Times by George Yancey. So tell us a little bit about that
letter, Maya, and how it relates to this poem. Yeah, it's a fascinating connection between
the two. So Yancey's open letter was addressed to the white people of America
in order to illuminate how race impacts pain points within America even to this day.
One thing that's particularly interesting about Yancey's letter is that it's written with a lot of kindness.
There's a very soft and gentle tone.
Yancey isn't making demands.
He's very simply laying out terms.
I think it's beautifully written.
What Smith does is take the kind of basis of that letter in the context and create an intense.
entirely new and stunningly relentless piece of work.
I mean, this collection stands as one of my favorite collections I think I've ever read.
But Dear White America for Smith is an unapologetic laying out of all of the traumas
that they have seen throughout their life and throughout history.
Yeah, it's really interesting that you say that about the relationship between Yancey's letter and this poem.
And I think one of the things that I find really how.
about this poem is that vitriolic voice, how unapologetically angry this poem is.
And I saw a very interesting interview with George Yancey in which he was talking about the
responses he received to his original letter in the New York Times, which for the, you know,
for listeners who haven't read it or aren't familiar with it, I implore you to go and read that
letter because it's a really fascinating read.
It's very confronting, but it's very measured, it's very calm.
The kind of responses that Yancey received from racists in America, effectively, was
quite sickening to hear
and it's almost as though this poem
has taken Yancey's point of view
but adopted the tone of the responses to Yancey's letter
and reimagined them
and almost adopts the furious tone
of the responses to that letter.
One of the most interesting things
is that this poem is laid out
in an epistolary quality
and for listeners who aren't sure what that means
it means that it's laid out as if it were a letter.
Obviously the title, Dear White America,
is positioned, even on the page,
as that opening line and throughout the poem there are no line breaks there are no separate stanzas
it is one solid block of text so joe how does that epistolary form impact the reception of this poem
well it's a fascinating question and as you said the epistolary form has a really rich literary history
basically can refer to any literary form which adopts the perspective or resembles other forms of writing
So letters are a very common one, but diary entries as well.
Poets like W.H. Orden, who wrote an imagined letter back to Lord Byron, who'd passed away
centuries before he was alive. Elizabeth Bishop's letter to New York, which obviously
resembles this poem so far as it's not addressed to a specific person, but addressed to a place.
But of course, there are also some very famous novels that use the epistolary form.
So Bram Stoker's Dracula would probably be the most famous, but more recently and perhaps more
relevantly, the novel, The Colour Purple by Alice Walker, is an epistolary novel.
it takes the form of letters. Around this time, one of Smith's great mentors and poetic friends is the poet and novelist Ocean Vuat, who at this stage was writing his phenomenal novel on Eartha Briefly Gorgeous, which again takes the form of a letter written by the narrator to his illiterate mother. Now, why am I going over these things? I think it speaks to a fascination that we have as readers with the idea of what the letter represents. The letter is a way of laying out one's case.
So what case is Smith making in this poem?
Not only does the direct address to Dear White America,
every single person who is implicated within that address.
They don't only pick up on that,
but they also mention the names of young black men and women
who have been murdered by American police officers unjustly.
There is an absolute refusal to let these stories slide.
I think this poem in particular, Dear White America,
is one of the most powerful in this collection.
It directly follows Summer Somewhere,
which is a 19-page poem,
a consideration of what life would be like
if black boys and girls had an alternate future
in which they survived.
It follows something that is beautifully written.
And as you said earlier,
the anger in this is absolutely palpable.
The enjumperment in the poem
further adds to that relentlessness.
there is no sense of ever taking a break.
I mean, to read it and to hear this poem performed
further adds to that sense of repetitive or unrelenting pressure.
I think what Smith is doing here is actually not allowing a reader to take a break
or to take a breather to present in very forthright terms.
This is what I'm angry about and this is what I'm here to tell you about.
I completely agree.
And just as you were saying that, something occurred to me about, again, that epistolary form.
It's not a real letter.
It's something that resembles a letter.
And of course, when we write letters in normal life or emails, there is a means by which people can respond.
When you publish a letter like this in a collection, there is no return address.
There is no means by which people can respond to this permit.
And perhaps that is Smith's way of suggesting, I don't want to hear your responses.
I am not interested in your defences or your.
reposts. This is the final word on the matter. So Smith is therefore able to capture all of those
direct and authoritative qualities we associate with a letter while also rejecting the possibility
that they can be challenged. The lack of an ability to respond ensures that the people the
poem is exposing are unable to get the final word in. And what you say about response
actually strikes a chord with me because, you know, in all my readings of this poem, I've never
really considered that what it is is a goodbye. It's a farewell. There's there's a line. I bid you
well. I bid you war. I bid you our lives to gamble with no more. This is Smith writing a letter
and then signing out saying this is not my job anymore to beg with you or plead with you to place
value on these lives that have been so traumatized by their experience in white America. And I'd never really
considered that it was actually a closing of sorts.
I think part of the reason for that is because, as you said, in so many other ways,
this letter is so relentless.
And obviously, the kind of injustices the letter speaks to are not new.
And they are things that have been going on for decades and centuries, in fact.
So the idea that the letter can somehow be the final word feels at odds with the kind of content
within the letter.
But perhaps actually that assertion of finality is simply Smith's attempt to impose
a degree of control on things that are by their very nature outside of Smith's control.
None of us can stop these atrocities on our own.
And that sense of powerlessness is very disarming.
And perhaps the sense of finality evoked by a letter that cannot be responded to
is some attempt to impose control over the things that can't be.
Absolutely.
And one of the things I'd like to touch on in this poem's more formal aspects is
you look at Georgianzi's open letter.
Obviously, it's written in formal English, you have your capitalisation.
Smith's poem doesn't.
Very few things other than names, place names, and God's name is capitalised.
Why do you think that is?
I think there's a few potential readings here.
Obviously, as I mentioned earlier, Smith has a background.
It's a spoken word artist.
Now, obviously, as a spoken word artist, you'd be writing your poems,
but only so that you could then go on to read them.
So it might simply be that, well, it doesn't matter if I'm capitalising or I'm writing, quote, unquote, correctly,
because it's only for my eyes anyway.
But I think given that these poems are written down, the decision to keep the lack of capitalisation is a deliberate point.
And I think we should treat it as such.
I'm interested in the idea that perhaps not capitalising the title, Dear White America, could demonstrate perhaps a lack of reverence for what America and white America might represent.
There is perhaps a lack of deference to those terms.
And I think the other thing, and maybe this is oversimplifying the point, but of course, one of the places we find capital letters most often is the beginning of sentences, the beginning of paragraphs, the beginning of let's.
letters. The absence of those capitalized letters in this poem speaks to the fact this is not a new
idea. This is a continuation not only of the arguments made in George Yancey's letter, but also
the things that people have been saying for some time about the injustices in America. This is
an acknowledgement from Smith that they are not inventing these things and nor are they the first
person to think of them. I think in a lot of ways, the lack of capitalisation from the outset
almost puts Smith's poem more in conversation with Yancey's letter.
I think it feels more of a natural continuation in that sense.
However, I do think there's something to be said for the digital age
and the fact that a lot of modern poets or poets who are writing in, you know,
the 21st century have adopted this kind of lack of capitalisation.
A part of me does wonder whether it's just a natural kind of development
from the way that people text and communicate on social media now.
I mean, it's the way that I communicate.
I don't necessarily capitalize properly when I'm talking to my friends or sending messages
or even writing my own poems for that fact.
I do think if you were to go into this poem and add capitals into it,
it would change it and it would change the intention.
As you say, I think we'd be remiss if we didn't discuss it as an intentional choice.
In this sense, if we talk about the digital age,
I almost think it speaks to accessibility.
I could fully imagine as a piece translated as a text, a voice note, something that Smith has
taken in their own life and so frustrated, said to a friend, said to a family member,
and I think that's what translates for me in that lack of capitalisation. I think it is
aggressively modern, but I think it speaks to the moment. And what it does is highlight
those names that are actually capitalised. It draws attention to the capitals within the space.
and obviously in this poem, aside from God and Place names,
it's the names of young black people
who have suffered at the hands of that institutional racism.
So actually offering capitalisation as a space for attention,
I think is so critical in this poem and at its reception.
No, I completely agree.
And I think I agree with what you said in particular
about that notion that you could almost imagine this
on the phone or as a voice note to a friend
and I think the lack of capitalisation
adds to that slightly breathless quality
that I think you mentioned
the enjean tomorrow also provides earlier
and I think it retains a remnant
of the live performance
and any listeners who haven't already
I strongly recommend you go and look
at a performance on YouTube of Smith reading this poem
because it's unbelievably affecting.
So for the benefit of those people
who haven't had a chance to listen to
down there Smith read live, the final line goes
as follows. And this life, this new story and history, you cannot steal or sell or cast overboard
or hang or beat or drown or own or red line or shackle or silence or cheat or choke or cover up
or jail or jail or shoot or jail or shoot or ruin. I think that line encompasses everything
Smith is trying to say in this poem. The absolute unrelenting repetition of all of the
ways in which black lives have been damaged in white America,
I think particularly the repetition of jail or shoot or jail or shoot or
or ruin, just really pushes home the horrible experiences
and the tragic loss of life that occurs every single day.
Obviously, poetry has a reputation for being highbrow, exclusive,
the property of those who reside and work in specific institutions
and academic forums.
But as I mentioned earlier on,
with Smith winning several literary awards
for this collection,
I think the lack of capitalisation
speaks to a much wider way
in which the poetic world is changing
and changing for the better.
You know, people like Rupi Kour
have really brought poetry to a new audience,
the way in which social media
is allowing people to discover poetry
for the first time,
and without having to belong
to those exclusive high-brow,
exclusionary bodies and institutions
is a really interesting point.
and Smith's poetry speaks to an experience that exists outside of those institutions.
And I think that's a really important point to mention when we look at the way their poetry actually appears on the page.
I mean, social media is absolutely a useful tool to get your work out there.
And I think it speaks volumes to the fact that institutions that have previously disregarded kind of experimental forms of poetry are looking at pushing forward, a voice that is so fresh and so challenging as.
well. I mean, I know you wanted to speak a little bit on the effect of live performance as
well. In preparation for the podcast, I was reading some interviews that Smith's done over the years,
and I was reading an interview that they did, I think it's five or six years ago now,
but they were talking about the significance of live performance on their work. And on the one
hand, they were saying that they don't specifically write poems for live performance versus
poems for the page, and each poem is different and how they're led in different directions by
what the poem itself demands. But they spoke about the quality of the life.
performance as being something that is important to retain even in the written word.
And they actually mentioned a concept called Duende.
Now, for listeners who aren't aware, Duende refers to this small kind of impish, almost
lepricorn figure that emerged in folklore in the Iberian Peninsula, so Portugal and Spain
and subsequently in Latin America.
But in a poetic and literary sense, it was popularized by Federico Garthio Lorca,
who gave a very famous lecturer in Argentina called the Theory and the Play of Duende.
And what Duende is for Lorca is this moment of the live.
It's a moment in which the audience or the listener is confronted by the immediacy of the performance.
Lorca spoke about how Duende is impossible to conceive of without an awareness of death.
So to see that concept brought forward by a poet like Smith whose works are so related to violence
and the way in which black bodies and queer bodies are the subject.
of violence in America is a really important one, but it relates not just to death.
It also refers to the death of the moment in which that performance is encountered.
Smith's performances are as close to that kind of modern iteration of Duende that I'm
aware of of a poet currently working today.
I couldn't agree more.
I think Smith's work and live performance is so arresting.
And I can absolutely see how their work fits into that concept.
So it's fascinating to see, I think from a poetic perspective as well,
how poets actually consider and clearly Smith considers that moment of performance
and how death interplays past just the basic iterations of it.
I really love that concept, especially for this collection,
when Smith spends so much time investing in the life and afterlife of black bodies
and spend so much time imagining and fleshing out
a safer future in a safer space separate from anything that white America has put those
bodies through. So I think it's a beautiful thing to see played out.
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We're going to be talking a little bit about some of the symbols and themes that exist in this
poem and others in Smith's collection. So, Maya, I know you want to talk about prisons in this poem
and the significance they have, so tell us about that.
I think to begin with the wider context of this poem,
obviously with what we've been talking about already,
this poem sits in conversation with a whole host of literature
that defies the unjust norm.
Now, prisons play a huge part in this,
both in the poem's landscape and in reality as well.
Smith here uses the line,
we did not build your prisons, though we did and we filled them too.
Now, I really want to pick up on this.
this line speaks to the fact that there are a disproportionate number of African-Americans incarcerated in
state prisons. Now, I was doing some research before the pod and one article that really stuck out to me
was from the sentencing project. Now, in this article, there's a few statistics that I really want to
pick up on. African-American people are incarcerated at five times the rate of their white
counterparts. In 12 American states, over 50% of the state prison population is black.
And in seven states, the ratio of black people to white people is nine to one or higher.
Now, that is an absolutely devastating statistic.
And Smith, in this poem, roots back to the fact that not only is there a disproportionate number of African-Americans entrapped within these prison systems,
but historically it was forced labor that actually built these prisons.
Now, entrapment is a theme that truly runs through us.
a lot of Smith's poems. Obviously, we've already discussed the fact that this poem was informed
by George Yancey's open letter. Yancey actually edited a collection in the wake of the death
of Trayvon Martin called Pursuing Trayvon. Historical Contacts and Contemporary Manifestations of Racial
Dynamics. This was 2012. And one of the threads throughout this analysis was that the
very notion of justice produces and requires black exclusion and death as normative.
Now this is exactly what Smith is arguing throughout Dear White America, the line,
you took one look at the river plump with the body of boy after girl after sweet boy
and ask why does it always have to be about race?
Because you made it that way.
This is unapologetically examining the institutional and the structural racism that is
built within the American fabric.
This carries across not just the prison system or the housing systems,
but every single aspect of America being built off the back of the slave trade.
Dana Smith is recognising that horrific failure of the system
to protect the lives of those who fill the prisons,
those who die at the hands of an unjust law system.
Prison becomes a greater metaphor for the entrapment of the system.
And whether these bodies sit within the cell or not,
they're just as at risk as if they are walking out on the street.
I think that's a fascinating point about entrapment
and I think it really speaks to one of the things
about this poem that I find really interesting
which is the sense of scale.
On the one hand we talk about prisons
and the insinuation is we're talking about individual cells.
We then talk about the nation,
talk about America,
but this poem is taking place in a far greater sense of scale
because kind of the central conceit of the poem
is that it being written as though Smith is in another galaxy
looking back down at earth.
Smith is challenging that notion of where is it appropriate for black bodies to be on the one hand
there's a sense that the black body belongs in incarceration on the one hand we have the
illusion in the line that sort of oft-touted racist phrase go back to Africa but of course in
this poem the black body as embodied by Smith is in another galaxy and yet the poem ends with
the line I am touching everything you beg your telescopes to
show you. And what I think is really powerful about this is Smith is almost suggesting that
wherever the black body exists, there are people who will claim it's in the wrong place,
or that it needs to move, or that white people can somehow claim that which it holds,
whether it's in the prison, whether it's in America, whether it's go back to Africa,
whether it's you're in space. The black body is pursued and continually politicized by the
white dominant elite. And that's the other critical turning point of this poem, right, is that
Smith hasn't left America, or the speaker hasn't left America, they've left Earth entirely.
The speaker has gone light years away.
And in a lot of ways, yes, this is Dear White America, but America and the Earth within this
become almost interchangeable.
Whether this speaks to the fact Smith perhaps feels as if America has taken up such a
dominant and looming position within global politics, or whether it also speaks to the fact
that regardless of where black bodies go, they are going to be policed, whether it's America, whether it's further reaches of the earth.
Safety is something that is truly compromised within this.
Now Smith's collection don't call us dead, and the way it opens with summer somewhere, the whole collection stands as a reimagining of black history.
But listeners who may not know what Afrofuturism is, Afrofuturism is defined as a cultural aesthetic that combines science fiction, history and fantasy to,
really explore the African-American experience in tandem with the forgotten history and
an imagined future. Smith is, as I said before, creating a space to consider the losses
that have been endured and the space that they can carve out for themselves within a world
that is set against them. I think Smith's work really plays on that sense of alternate narrative.
So, Joe, what other symbols are evident in this poem? What would you like to talk about?
So I'd like to talk a little bit about poplar tree, which you mentioned about a third of the way through the Perman, Smith writes, I've left Earth, I am equal part sick of your go back to Africa, and I just don't see your race. Neither did the poplar tree. And I think to understand why that symbol is so heavily weighted, we have to go back and look at the way in which the poplar tree has been conceived in art throughout history. So it's a symbol that goes right back to Greek mythology, Roman mythology. Hercules, after achieving one of his many triumphs, was rewarded with the
the leaves of the poplar tree. So it becomes this kind of symbol of triumph in that context.
In a different context, British context, druids who were hagen priests in pre-Roman Britain,
were said to use the poplar tree as basically a way of commemorating old age because of the white
colour of its leaves. The poplar tree clearly has a positive resonance in those contexts.
It's a symbol of growth, of renewal, of respect for your elders, of triumph for your victors.
The context in which Smith is writing it is a very different one. And to illustrate this point,
I'd like to encourage listeners to go and seek out the photograph called the lynching tree
by the filmmaker Steve McQueen, which is a photograph of a poplar tree, and the allusion
to lynching is because poplar trees were often used as makeshift gallows from which black people
were hung when they were lynched. An incredibly traumatic and troubled history. The reason I think
it's important to bring up those earlier more positive mentions is because it's another
reminder of the way that, and I think Smith does this superbly well in their poetry,
objects and symbols are continually decoded because we all hold assumptions that we didn't
even know we had about the world around us, about objects, about places.
The poplar tree being a symbol of old age functions as a kind of darkly comic joke
because in the context of black Americans, old age is something they could not reach.
And that kind of contested symbol is one that Smith, I think, is able to deconstruct,
perhaps better than any poets currently working.
really like to pick up on that mention of the druids. I think magic is something that really
plays into this as well. And as a poem, magic and religion kind of intersect quite heavily.
Obviously, the druids have a reputation for practicing kind of ancient forms of magic and
rites and passages. So when Smith throughout this poem is speaking to America as a body that
has continually hunted and decimated the different, really.
What brings to mind this sense of magic is almost the Salem witch trials
and how they obliterated a whole group of people for nonconformity.
So when Smith turns this on his head and sort of juxtaposes those senses of magic
and I talk about black magic and that as a phrase and the negativity that's always
been connoted with that, Smith is, again, as you mentioned before,
speaking in such an accusatory tone and saying to America, your master's,
a magic trick America. Now he's breathing, now he don't. Abra-cadava, white-bred voodoo,
sorcery you claim not to practice. Smith is completely turning this concept of difference
on its head. They're claiming that the only negative forms of sorcery or magic have come from
those who are creating that sense of death. I completely agree. And again, that there's that
sense of the injustice of how arbitrary those judgments are. Why is one form of magic or belief pursued
outlawed, whereas others aren't. And I think the reference to Lazarus is a really fascinating one
there. Lazarus of Bethany is a figure in the Bible who is brought back to life by Christ in the
New Testament, Gospel of John, I believe, having been dead for four days. Now, obviously, that act has
become a key part of the Christian tradition. I think we'd all accept that if somebody was brought
back to life divorced from a particular religious faith, we might call it something like
witchcraft or voodoo or magic or some other term that is less complimentary.
than to say, it's a miracle. And the arbitrary nature of those miracles is something that Smith
challenges explicitly in this poem when, as Maya read beautifully earlier on, they declare
God's miracles to be inconsistent. My interpretation of that is not so much that God is
inconsistent, but that those who practice his teachings have applied his lessons inconsistently.
And that's why, to my mind, that's actually less of an attack on God and more of an attack on the things
that have been done in God's name.
and that must be such a tough boundary to contend with really i mean smith was raised as a devout baptist
dealing with the repercussions of a religion that has actually maybe not served you or not proven
it's worth to you to lay those terms out in a poem to make accusations against a god that is
utilized by a group of people who do nothing to protect you is a truly a humbling moment
moment. This sort of leads me on to one of the things I'd really like to touch on, you know,
before we recorded this podcast, we talked about how Smith has actually been compared by some
articles to some of the American greats compared to Whitman, for example.
Now, in this poem, Smith is speaking with a sort of multivocality, and I can completely understand
why articles are comparing Whitman and Smith, but I do think that there is something to be said
for the senses of multivocality and who those voices are. So I'd love to hear your thoughts
on that comparison, really. Well, look, Whitman occupies this huge space in American cultural life,
really in terms of 19th century poetry, there is no one bigger than Whitman. And he occupies
the space of being a poet that is responsible for more than
just their poetry, the voice of a nation in many ways. And that's, it's important to note,
not a role or responsibility that many writers actively seek out. And in fact, many of them
might wish not to have it because when you're writing for a population as vast and as varied as
America, that's a lot of responsibility. Smith is writing in a period where there are more
voices than they've ever been before. And that's a great thing. More people are able to contribute
their version of American life
rather than anything that claims to be definitive.
But it's also a huge weight of responsibility
for any poet to inherit the idea
that the voice of American life now falls to you.
Whitman became the kind of the voice of a generation,
the voice of American life full stop.
And I'm sure many of our listeners already know that,
very famous line, I contain multitudes.
But not for any lack of skill,
I think Smith and Whitman
in their own rights are both incredible poets.
However, it must be noted that Whitman was writing for an American generation in the 19th century
that with hindsight we can understand was a very different country
to the one that Smith is writing for and from in the 21st.
Now, part of the reason that comparison doesn't sit too kindly with me
is I think, more evidently from Smith's interviews,
Smith isn't writing for white people.
They have said it time and time again.
They are not writing on behalf of that community at all.
So to call them the voice of America is almost taking from Smith's intention to me.
And I'm not sure I agree with that.
I think for a poet that's been so vocal about their initial intentions and the purposes for their writing,
to then take that from them is a huge faux part.
Whitman, in a lot of ways, called out injustice and in sincerity.
But in my understanding of his poetry, there was far less of a call to action than there isn't Smiths.
And for Smith, for a poet who is so deft and skillful in how they address injustice
and how they attack those small inconsistencies in, as we've said, multiple times throughout this podcast,
an absolutely unrelenting way
to push Smith
into being the voice of a generation
and speak on behalf of a whole host of people
that they never intended to
takes away a quality from their work
that I don't think I can stand idly by
and agree with.
That's actually a really astute point
and I think the comparison with that line
I contain multitudes.
Walt Whitman in that line
is this great call to assimilation,
the great call to unity, the idea that somehow through his work
he can represent more than just he is.
We're not in that world anymore.
I think what Smith is doing, and as you said,
by outright claiming that there is a whole sector society
that their work is not for,
in contrast to Whitman,
Smith is not saying that they want American cultural life
to be more assimilated and more homogenous,
but instead more fragmented and more individual.
And I think the multivocality that Whitman employs
being almost the conduit of many voices but still speaking with the resonance of one
and almost all-powerful, all-knowing, godlike manifestation,
the multivocality that Smith employs is far more subtle and heartbreaking and touching in so many ways.
Somewhere is a poem that I will call back to again and again.
It's written from the perspective of a young black boy murdered unjustly.
and the mother of that young child.
And there is a beautiful conversation
that occurs between the two of them
in two separate states of being.
The multivocality that Smith employs
is direct and purposeful.
You hear the very personal voices
of every single sufferer
under realm of American inflicted trauma.
There is a real intimacy that you have in Smith
that I don't think you have in Whitman.
And obviously, you can have a certain level of intimacy with Whitman's speaker.
But beyond that, there is an excess channeling.
And in Smith, it's so direct.
And I think to create a more all-encompassing voice really takes away from that intimacy.
Wow, we could have talked about that for several more hours.
My goodness, there was a lot of ground to cover.
But we're going to end this episode with a call to action to go and seek out more Danez-Smith work.
whether it's their formance of this term that we mentioned earlier on YouTube or other resources,
many of which are available on our site.
Not forgetting to mention the fact that Dana Smith has a new collection, Bluff,
which is coming out very, very soon, on the 22nd of August, 2024.
We hope you enjoyed this episode of Beyond the Verse,
and we hope that you can join us next week where we're going to be answering some questions from subscribers.
But for now, it's goodbye from me.
Goodbye from me and all of the team at Poemanalysis.com.
Thank you.