We generally think of free verse as being a modern literary creation.
Such is not really the case. That form of free verse which is now most
in vogue, namely the form commonly called polyphonic verse, may be a
comparatively new thing. At least it has been commonly familiar only
during the last few years. The fundamental form of which it is but a
variation is quite an old one.
Walt Whitman was a writer of a form of free verse in a literary
generation now vanished. His “Blades of Grass” was the most
unconventional thing done either in his period or those prior to it. This
verse varies from our polyphonic prose of the present time, yet the
spirit and general form are much the same. Whitman’s work awakened an
abundance of discussion and criticism in his day. It survives because
he had a message, and compared with the message of a poem, its form is
only an incidental thing.
The blank verse forms, which are as venerable as they are familiar in our
literature, are variations of the same general poetic pattern. As a rule,
the most conservative of us are fond of holding up Shakespeare as a
literary model for the centuries. We seem to have been about right in our
estimate of him too, for his work certainly has evidenced a remarkable
measure of immortality.
Yet the great body of the work of Shakespeare was of the unconventional
type. It differed, of course, from the free verse of today, yet it was a
forerunner of what is now being produced. Shakespeare contributed largely
toward giving blank verse a lasting good name. He ventured to pay little
attention to rhyme in an age when England was a nest of singing birds,
and most of them were singing in rhymes and stanzas. He preserved his
rhythm, it is true, but our modern free verse does that also.
It has a still older pedigree than Shakespeare. It appears in the
earliest beginnings of the poetry of the English and of still more
ancient peoples. The literature of the Hindus and Semites is full of it.
From the earliest snatches of song recorded in the sacred writings of
the Hebrews, the Bible has a wealth of poetry which suggests the modern
form. Moses, David, and Solomon all used it. The Magnificat of Mary and
the Nunc Dimittis of Simeon are both worthy of an honorable place in a
modern magazine of free verse.
Rhythmic prose is, then, quite an ancient literary institution. It
appears in two distinct grades and types. One is the simple, childlike,
elemental form which marks the early stages of the life of a people. The
other is the more polished form which represents the later period
of culture.
The first is found in the early lore of most races, savage or
semi-civilized. The American Indian had an abundance of it. The beginnings
of the poetry of what are now the most civilized races also include a
great deal of it. It represents that time in the life of a people when
human feelings burst spontaneously into song. In such an age practically
everyone is a singer, though not everyone can fashion fancy rhymes
and stanzas.
Of the second form, we have abundant examples in our large and growing
store of fine poetical work. We have simply swung back toward the freer
forms which gave opportunity for the expression of the feelings of our
earlier forefathers. We may have done so because we had feelings to
express that seemed to demand such forms. We may have done so simply for
the sake of variety. At any rate, we have done so.
This fact does not argue that any violence has been done to the quality
of our poetic output. The present movement has simply changed the favored
poetic form, for the time being at least. It may be that we have gone
backward in some other things, but there is little to indicate that we
have done so in relation to our poetry. The general run of American
poetry today is of a very high order. Generally speaking, poetic art in
America stands today at its highest level thus far.
The rhyme and the stanza belong to the period of highly studied form.
They are ornamental, and, like fine lace, the weaving of them calls for
great skill if it is to be well done. They often express commanding
thoughts and emotions, but the outstanding thing about them is their
form. Of course, if their form were their only value they would still
be worth while. We cannot get on without beauty. It is true, however,
that in the case of formal rhymed verse, the thought and message cannot
so easily be at their best. Thought must often be limited and truth
stilted by the necessities of form.
The free verse form offers an opportunity for the poet to break largely
away from these narrowing limitations. It has been said that the prose
writer is master of his materials while the poet is the slave of his
style. Many a versifier has unintentionally fallen into a vein of
grandiose expression which could hold little of sincerity and truth.
The intermingling of prose and verse qualities which we find in free
verse makes it possible for the poet to be true to the finer shades of
his message and its meaning. He is not bound by any fixed necessities of
rhyme and meter. This probably accounts for the fact that we have seen
expressed in this form the most rugged sentiments and, at the same time,
the most delicate shading of artistry.
I once enjoyed a conversation with the late James Whitcomb Riley, wherein
he spoke of the desirability of naturalness in poetry.
“Poetry should not sound stilted and constrained,” he said, “but natural
and sincere. It should run along the same even and normal course that a
high grade of every-day conversation does. One should not say, ‛the
rippling brook along.’ He should say, ‘along the rippling brook.’”
One may notice in Mr. Riley’s work that the best of the poems he wrote
during the period of his most serious work have just this quality.
Consequently, they are rather free in their form. He does not break
entirely away from rhyme and meter, but he does make them secondary.
This kind of work seems to hold its place longest. Probably the reason
is that the message and not the form is the immortal part. Out of the
past we have preserved a few high-sounding poems for their lilt and
rhythm, but they are few and probably will be long outlived by others
sounding a more genuine note. If anything of their kind was produced in
the days of Moses or David, it has long since perished. Yet the great
sentiments that swelled from the souls of these men and burst from their
lips are still treasured among us. After all, it does not seem to be to
the advantage of the poet to be abjectly the slave of his style. He seems
to be all the better remembered when he is the master of his materials.
Some have the idea that free verse belongs in the same category with jazz
music and cubist art, but it is not so. Free verse is no oddity. It is one
of the best outlets poetry can ever offer for the expression of the moods
and thoughts of the human soul. It is not the only form of poetry we
should cultivate and preserve, but it is one that will have a real place
in the great future of letters.