In "Self-Portrait, Not Without Doubts," you mention "those writers who sometimes bother you: some so modest, minimal, and underread, that you want to call out--hey, friends, courage, life is beautiful, the world is rich and full of history." Is this something you feel vis-à-vis other writers?Yes, though I won't give you any names. What I have in mind here is minimalism in literature. Unlike minimalism in music, which can be fascinating, minimalism is boring in literature. The fact that you can write poetry--it's an incredible chance that's given to you, the chance to formulate what you think about the world, God, dying. When I read through many poetry journals, I see a strange modesty. So many poets are just saying something minimal. Poetry is not about defending poetry; poetry is about defending life.
. . . Almost all poets these days are jesters. There are so many younger American poets. They've very talented. They're typical jesters. They indulge in wonderful play, but there's some poverty in it; it's not interesting as an intellectual question. What's interesting is always drama, conflict, debate. In playfulness there's no debate, no drama. It doesn't amount to a statement. It's a kind of very safe diversion for people who say they are rebels but don't risk anything.
--from "This Strange Ambition to Want to Say Something: A conversation with Adam Zagajewski." Interview by Agnieszka Tennant. "Books & Culture," July/August 2010.
Playwright Lynn Siefert has given me the most quirky assessment of my poetry and fiction that I have ever received: "I like your writing so much because it's a mix of delicacy and and darkness. Like a chocolate covered grasshopper. Once you get to the dark part it's too late because you've been seduced by the delectable part."
