
These are the generations of mice…
The phrase introduces each of three meaty stanzas in John Kinsella’s “Familiars” (Poetry, June 2023). The device, with its mock portentous sonority and homiletic repetition, has a pleasing (to this Jean-Luc Picard fan) Star-Trekkie smack. Syntactically the stanzas are clearly structured and marked, as if built of hewn and fitted stone. What a relief.
… I am their familiar, restless and emolliated
in sweat, something not quite right with my
body clock, my systems…
…
So we drywall to reinforce, almost a corbeling.
…
… The heat wears me down.
Wall spaces fluctuate. A haunting of the endocrine.
Two words are new to me: “emolliated,” which means “weakened,” and “corbeling.” A corbel is a structure jutting out from a wall to support a weight. I listened to the pronunciation of “corbeling” to know which syllable is stressed (the first).
I also confirmed my understanding of “familiar” (a spirit) and “endocrine” (relating to hormone-secreting glands), two words I recognize but rarely use. When reading verse, I do considerable look-up of words I think I already know!
Diction is a big deal to me, and I’ve been ridiculed as snooty for using language perceived as pretentious. A coach I subbed for once in the high school where I taught mocked me for reassuring him in a note that no student had misbehaved “egregiously” in his absence. It hurt me. That’s how I talk; he took it as affected and pompous. I felt emolliated.
When a writer of verse uses words of rare occurrence, I think of Louise Glück’s quip that “poets” are conventionally thought to be writers who are fond of words such as “incarnadine.” She writes that she herself is inclined to stick with common language, because it can have, she believes, the widest range of connotation. As a reader I’m of two minds on the matter; it’s how I roll.

(c) 2023 JMN — EthicalDative. All rights reserved














A Compelling Rationale for Taking Up Versifying
Monet fondly recalls her former college adviser: “I remember her suggesting what schools to go to and it wasn’t Harvard, you know what I mean?”
I think I know what she means. It’s just as well. The Harvard English department has dropped its poetry requirement for an English degree.
Monet’s YouTube video, The Devil You Know, serves up sensory tumult ending with an affecting diminuendo dissolve. Memorable line:
Silence is a noise, too.
I also relish the phrase “word-workers” among her honor roll of callings in the video. I could wish only that Monet’s word work were slightly more audible amidst the lively instrumentation that includes the sterling horn of Christian Scott aTunde Adjuah.
Sources
Marcus J. Moore, “Aja Monet, a Musical Poet of Love,” New York Times, 6-8-23.
Maureen Dowd, “Don’t Kill ‘Frankenstein’ With Real Frankensteins at Large,” New York Times, 5-27-23.
(c) 2023 JMN — EthicalDative. All rights reserved