Interesting piece on the poet Robert Lowell and literary reputation. Charles McGrath concludes:
Lowell may have belonged to the last generation to believe seriously in the poetic vocation. His friends and colleagues...didn't imagine themselves teachers of creative writing who would turn out the occasional slim volume; they saw themselves as the heirs to, and the equals of, Yeats and Eliot.... They believed that poetry must be the ''ruling passion'' of life.
They were all a little nuts, of course -- or, in the case of Lowell and Schwartz, more than a little sometimes. Except for the teetotaling Jarrell, they were all alcoholic, and they smoked like chimneys. Berryman killed himself, and Jarrell most likely did. Major American poet, mid-20th century -- it's not a job description or a lifestyle that you would wish upon anyone.
Part of their misery was that so few people were paying attention. Poets have always complained about the smallness (and unfitness) of their audience, of course, and in fact the mid-20th century was not such a bad moment for being a poet in America. It was a far better moment than the early 21st century is -- when poetry has become an art form with more practitioners than actual readers..... The poet must dedicate himself to poetry, Schwartz wrote, even though ''no one else seems likely to read what he writes; and he must be indestructible as a poet until he is destroyed as a human being.''
Poems still get written, naturally, but the flames, one suspects, don't burn quite so hot these days. Poets behave better, live longer and probably settle for less.
I wonder at this implied assertion that a person's happiness is tied in some way to the amount of prestige/"props" they receive in their job. Part of why I liked Henry D. Thoreau was that he cared so little about his literary reputation. I don't have a lot of sympathy for those who can't get read (*grin*). Creativity is its own reward.
With respect to poets I think the real issue of their unhappiness might have more to do with this. But the greats in any profession pay a heavy price. That would obviously include the saints. (Editor's Note: Obviously we are all called to be saints).
Walker Percy in one of his non-fiction books argued that there is a "re-entry" problem for artists, that it is very difficult to experience transcendence and return to "earth" (just as the alcoholic wants to live forever in the transcendence of drunkenness). I think that if Lowell had stuck with Catholicism (he was a convert in '41) he would've been much better for it, mentally as well as spiritually. Whether poetically is debatable. Some say that TS Eliot wrote his best poetry before he became convinced of the Truth, perhaps because God then came before his art and genuine art is a jealous mistress. But what is it to win the whole world but lose your own soul? I also wonder if Lowell's attempt to fill a God-shaped void motivated him in a way that exceeded those who've believe and have received at least some small measure of divine fullness. Certainly Lowell's poetry during his Catholic period (at least what was quoted) sure seemed lame even to me.
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