why I spent so much time trying to do something which the 20-30 pages below show I had no talent for, is a mystery to me—just more evidence (if any were needed) to prove what a futile waste my life was—
Friday, January 27, 2012
:
I lived in Massachusetts for about 3 decades, over the course of which period the state's Arts Foundation awarded cash grants to hundreds of poets—
but of course they didn't give a fucking penny to me. I found the above in an old file—it's just one of many such annual missives I received from them . . . I'd love to have the paranoid certainty that a cabal of Boston PoBigs (Pinsky Bidart Warren et al) had ordered the Foundation to blacklist me, but the truth is that the poetry I wrote then (and now) isn't any good, and that's why they rejected me.
///
SEE MY NOTE BELOW THE IMAGE:
the top left one there was particularly hurtful to get because Claudia Keelan in her youth had been in a workshop I taught, and I encouraged and praised her work. And I wrote a blurb for her first book. But of course by the time I sent these poems to her magazine Interim, decades had passed and she knew that I had become a pariah, persona non grata, outcast by Ameri-PoBiz, excommunicated from its offices, and she knew that any association with me would harm her career. Or more likely the poems I sent her for Interim were just so bad that she didn't think they deserved any more than an unsigned form rejection slip just like the hundreds of others she sent out that semester.
...
"[Bill
Knott's] poems are so naive that the question of their poetic quality hardly
arises. . . . Mr. Knott practices a dead language."
—Denis
Donoghue, New York Review of Books, May 7, 1970
[Bill
Knott's poems are] typically mindless. . . . He produces only the prototaxis of
idiocy. . . . Rumor has it that Knott's habit of giving his birth and terminal
dates together originated when he realized he could no longer face the horror
of a poetry reading he was scheduled to give."
—Charles
Molesworth, Poetry (Chicago) Magazine, May 1972
"[Bill
Knott is] malignant."
—Christopher
Ricks, The Massachusetts Review, Spring 1970
"[Bill
Knott's work] consists almost entirely of pointless poems, that say disgusting
things. . . . [His poetry is] tasteless . . . and brainless."
—Michael
Heffernan, Midwest Quarterly, Summer 1973
"Consider
Bill Knott, a poet who writes lots of very short poems that are nothing but
bombast."
—Josh
Hanson, Livejournal, 28/06/07: http://josh-hanson.livejournal.com/26249. html
"Eccentric,
uneven . . . poet Bill Knott is not [fit] to win prizes . . . [His work is]
thorny . . . rebellious, avant-garde . . . ."
—Robert Pinsky,
Washington Post.com, April 17, 2005
"[Bill]
Knott's work tends today to inspire strong dismissal. . . . [He's] been forced
to self-publish some of his recent books. . . . [B]ad—not to mention
offensively grotesque—poetry. . . . appalling . . . . maddening . . . . wildly
uneven . . . adolescent, or obsessively repetitive . . . grotesqueries . . . .
[His] language is like thick, old paint . . . his poems have a kind of prickly
accrual that's less decorative than guarded or layered . . . emotionally distancing
. . . . uncomfortable. Knott . . . is a willful . . . irritating . . .
contrarian."
—Meghan
O'Rourke, Poetry Magazine, Feb 2005
"Knott
is making capitol on poetic fashion, attempting belatedly to enter the canon of
the Language poets by reviving the idiom of Ezra Pound. [His work] so
successfully defies communicating anything that one wonders what [his
publisher] had in mind. . . . Knott, it may be recalled, "killed"
himself in the early 1960s."
—R. S.
Gwynn, The Year in Poetry, DLB Yearbook 1989
"[Bill
Knott is] incompetent . . ."
—Alicia
Ostriker, Partisan Review, Vol. 38, #2, 1971
"Bill Knott, the crown prince of bad judgment."
—Ron
Silliman, Silliman's Blog, June 26, 2007
"Bill
Knott's poems are . . . rhetorical fluff . . . and fake."
—Ron Loewinsohn,
TriQuarterly, Spring 1970
"[Bill
Knott's poetry is] queerly adolescent . . . extremely weird. . . personal to
the point of obscurity. . . his idiosyncrasy has grown formulaic, his obscure
poems more obscure, his terse observations so terse they scoot by without
leaving much of a dent in the reader. . . . There is a petulance at work [in
his poetry]. . . . [H]is style has grown long in the tooth. . . . In fact,
[Knott is] unethical."
—Marc
Pietrzykowski, Contemporary Poetry Review, 2006
(http://www.cprw.com/Pietrzykowski/beats.htm)
"Bill
Knott's [poetry is the equivalent of] scrimshaw. . . . [He's] either
self-consciously awkward or perhaps a little too slangily up-to-date."
—Stephen
Burt, New York Times Book Review, November 21, 2004
"Bill Knott['s]
ancient, academic ramblings are part of what's wrong with poetry today. Ignore the old bastard."
—Collin
Kelley (from "They Shoot Poets Don't They" blog, August 08, 2006)
"Bill
Knott . . . is so bad one can only groan in response."
—Peter Stitt,
Georgia Review, Winter 1983
"Bill Knott bores me to tears."
—Curtis Faville,
http://compassrosebooks.blogspot.com/2009/05/moore-formalism-post-avant-part-three.html
“Bill
Knot[t] sucks.”
—Marcus
Slease (from “Never Mind the Beasts” blog, June 10, 2005)
"[Bill
Knott's books are] filled with venom. . . . Knott seems to hate himself . . .
and he seems to hate his readers."
—Kirk
Robinson, Another Chicago Magazine, #36-38, 2000
"Bill Knott's a prissy little moron."
—Matthew
Henriksen, http://hyacinthlosers.blogspot.com/,
March 23, 2009
"[Bill]
Knott's poems, with their flat language and simple declarations, typically fail
to impress."
—Seth
Abramson, Huffington Post, September 21, 2013
"Bill Knott should be beaten with a flail."
—Tomaz
Salamun, Snow, 1973
"Bill
Knott [is a] now-forgotten oddity."
—Peter
Straub, July 2, 2012, weirdfictionreview.com
(PLEASE
NOTE: the above quotes are authentic and can be verified by checking the
sources indicated. This selection is
random, drawn from material at hand.
Many others of a similar nature could be researched and added.)
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