. . . yet no one means a word of it,
it is always a masque.
What is being said then, by these quietists, and as has been proposed, these more progressive forms? Is the diversion not in what is being said, but rather in who is saying it? Shall we not say that the "lesson of the poem" is simply a byproduct and not the point at all? The dialectic is the "I" and the "not I". --which might be related to the essential question of freedom vs equality, but let's not bother with that here...
Problems on all fronts--the Quietests, for lack of a better label, assert the primacy of the personal, the authority of experience as filtered by the "me", --I have done this and from this which I have done I construct this.
For the progressives, I am not therefore how do I remove me from that which is constructed. The current answer to that seems to be a more or less random matrix of language, combination & recombinations culled from the collective. (Which one might note is just as illusory as the "I" itself)
If one were so inclined one might chuckle at the impossibility of it all. Let us consider, of what use is a Poetry that strips us of our heroic deeds, be they glorious or mundane--and if it is all a lie (something we have learned to live with over the centuries) what purpose does it serve?
at any rate, we are left with the argument itself, the words being but pastels shading the real debate alive inside the poem.
Is the artificial construct of the I a valid motive for poetry to exist, and without it can we consider it poetry at all?
A vexing problem for (me) muddling about in the shadows of it all, grasping of shards of that which appears to be real but which turns out to be nothing at all, as the vibrations of the strings may be just a will-o-the-wisp so far
which is where we all are.