Yes, I said it. Robert Frost sucks. I don't care if he's a beloved literary figure. I have always disliked his work. To me, Robert Frost is the Nickelback of classic American literature. What I mean by that is that he's purely formulaic. Nearly all of his poems are at their roots, exactly the same. Talk about nature and the simple life. Trees, birds, water, painting fences and such. Picturesque rural white America in all its picturesque wonder. And yet, if you look into it, the nature means something more. Something deep. Right? I suppose it could be taken that way. Kind of like in Animals when Chad Kroeger says "gear", but he really means "penis." Clever, I suppose, and perhaps that's a bit of a prurient example, but the idea is the same. We got the idea the first couple of times. Do something different! And yet it's this sort of singular methodology of writing that people seem so quick to embrace. Nobody wants change, or differentiation. It's that sort of comfort in the familiar that I feel inhibits true creativity, both in the writer and the audience, and I can't help but think that Robert Frost is one such example of this. Literary laziness, if you will.
On another note, I'm not afraid to admit that the constant positivity kills me. Perhaps it's just because I'm a bitter cynic who cut his poetic teeth at an early age on Poe, but it all seems so contrived. Yes, even I can see the beauty in nature at times. I enjoy woodland scenery, long walks on the beach at sunset and all, but there is so much more to life than that. It's not all dewdrops on roses and whiskers on kittens. The world that Frost attempts to paint seems almost too idealized to even be believable. And in doing so, I feel that he causes the reader to get lost in a world of fantasy painted in photorealistic colors. It's great at the time, but by putting too much faith in it, the reader only sets themselves up for a great deal of disappointment once the reality check comes in.
It should also be noted that he spent his life in the city. The only time he actually spent in his beloved rural America was spent failing as a farmer on land that was bought for him by his wealthy grandfather.
Once again I say it: Robert Frost sucks. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cut down a tree.
4 comments:
You don't think Poe is formulaic?
This is probably the most accurate thing I've ever read on the internet... Is that an exaggeration? I don't know... but I feel it to be true. Although I don't think anything, ever, will be a worse poem than "This Is Just To Say" which is a famous imagist poem by William Carlos Williams.
"This Is Just To Say" (1934)
"I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox
and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast
Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold"
THAT'S famous? My husbands morning dump has gotten more recognition than this poem should have ever gotten. It's the same concept as an artist who puts a blue dot on a canvas and is called a modern day Da Vinci. /heavy eyeroll
You sound like a cunt
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