Feedback Please

[Angeline]

I wrote this one today, and am filing it in the "try to find a publisher where I fit" file. Anyone have suggestions or other comments? (I've been tinkering with it on and off all day. I am going to put it here and walk away...starting...n-o-w!)

Academy

The rehearsal room seems enormous
to little girls in black leotards and pink tights,
flexible feet little malleable bones
surrounded by wood, mirrors, and Chopin,
by smells of talc and sweat.

Madame is severe as black satin,
quiet as oil glinting
on florescent Saturday mornings,
gliding among children
or standing inscrutable--
a mannequin backlit by a window.

"Point your toes, young ladies.
Eyes straight ahead. Not on me."

Madame pushes back bellies,
lifts shoulders, steadies backs,
curves arms to willow branches
drifting languid over small heads.
She squats at our feet and twists them

We sit stretching bent from the waist,
falling forward in slow motion,
nose to knees to floor,
then lift up older, straight-backed.

Years pass in glissades shifting
from fifth position from demi-plié,
right arms sweep, embracing form,
moving young girls across polished oak .

Pirouette!

We spin in twirls of pain,
toes crushed against lamb’s-wool,
our classical faces masks of serenity.

Jete!

We leap a geometry of studied grace,
legs arced in cresting parabolas,
corps of lithe women linked,
passing the solitude of Madame.

 

[Cordelia]

First, let me say that this is a wonderful poem. I went through years of ballet classes, and I can certainly empathize. But even if one has never been in a dance class, your poem gives a good feel for the atmosphere.

I think all ballet teachers have that same air about them...

So let me offer a few comments, stanza-by-stanza...

Originally posted by Angeline
Academy

The rehearsal room seems enormous
to little girls in black leotards and pink tights,
flexible feet little malleable bones
surrounded by wood, mirrors, and Chopin,
by smells of talc and sweat.

First, I think the title, while accurate and descriptive, could be changed. I know titles are my hardest challenge, so I have no alternative, but I'm sure there are poets out there who can help.

The first line was the only line I had trouble with. It is accurate, but so un-poetic. The phrase, "seems enormous" is one of those "tell" phrases my poetry teacher always told me to avoid. With your consummate skill as a word artist, I know you could come up with something more concrete.

The rest of the stanza just enveloped me in memories of my times at the barre.

Madame is severe as black satin,
quiet as oil glinting
on florescent Saturday mornings,
gliding among children
or standing inscrutable--
a mannequin backlit by a window.

Wonderful image of Madame. Though the fifth line seems redundant. "standing inscrutable" is implied in the mannequin image. Removing that line altogether would be sufficient and still keep the wonderful image.

"Point your toes, young ladies.
Eyes straight ahead. Not on me."

Madame pushes back bellies,
lifts shoulders, steadies backs,
curves arms to willow branches
drifting languid over small heads.
She squats at our feet and twists them

The last line seemed to not "ring" with the rest of the stanza. And it presented an odd segue into the next stanza. Maybe a re-write? Or drop it?

We sit stretching bent from the waist,
falling forward in slow motion,
nose to knees to floor,
then lift up older, straight-backed.

I love this stanza! Don't touch it!

And the phrase, "lift up older," is inspired.

Years pass in glissades shifting
from fifth position from demi-plié,
right arms sweep, embracing form,
moving young girls across polished oak .

The first part leaves a wonderful image of the passage of time, but the final two lines seems to lack the imagery of the stanza just before it and the one immediately following. The word, "moving" doesn't seen strong enough to be followed by the directive, "Pirouette!"

Again, I don't like to give exact suggestions for changes. I think you should leave this to your own style and voice, not mine.

Pirouette!

We spin in twirls of pain,
toes crushed against lamb’s-wool,
our classical faces masks of serenity.

Wonderful stanza. So vivid!

Jete!

We leap a geometry of studied grace,
legs arced in cresting parabolas,
corps of lithe women linked,
passing the solitude of Madame.

Lovely contrast here. And good use of the geometry of the dance.

Wonderful poem, Angeline. You are an inspiration to me.

I hope my comments help. I don't always feel qualified to do anything but render my opinion. So, for what it's worth, here they are.



Cordelia

 

[Angeline]

Cordie!!!

You're wonderful!

Great suggestions. My first reaction was to leave that line about Madame sqatting and twisting feet--it's such a vivid memory for me and I liked it stark, but maybe it needs grace instead. I'll see what I can figure out.

The other suggestions I'll take, thank you!

Oh, you know I was trying to think of a verb that works with glissade; I know 'moving' is blah, but a glissade is like what--sliding, shuffling? There has to be a precise term.

The title--sigh--I am terrible with titles. Any suggestions gratefully heard, poets (holds cap out pleadingly).

 

[karmadog]

Interesting. I think I'm becoming a better reader of poetry, because I got stuck in the same places Cordelia mentioned.

When you say that a room is enormous to little girls, you've implied that it is a matter of perspective. That makes the 'seems to be' superfluous.

I also had trouble with the squatting and twisting. It will come as not surprise to you that I have never been a ballerina--four left feet and a penis, don't you know--so I don't really get a feel for what's going on. Does it hurt? I assume she's stretching your tendons, but I don't know how much. Maybe it feels good. I just don't know.

We spin in twirls of pain,
toes crushed against lamb’s-wool,
our classical faces masks of serenity.

I like the imagery here too but, read aloud, I'm not so sure about 'We spin in...

What would happen if it was:
We spin
twirls of pain
toes crushed against lambs-wool...

Terrific poem, Ange.

But now I feel that I should crusade against these Mengeles of the dance world, the sadistic Madame Solitude Mannequins.

 

[OT]

I think Cordilia pointed out some good stuff, and since I have no shared memories of ballet class, I'll defer to her insight as to how well it captured the moments.

My general impression is that it needs some general tightening.

The dreaded "seems" in the first line set the "wordiness" tone.
The later stanzas that start "We Sit", We spin" , "We leap" maybe want to be reworded to avoid all the We's. e.g. "In twirls of pain, we spin..."

" as oil glinting
on a florescent Saturday morning," seems over the top.

I think you tried to squeeze too much into the stanza.
The point is she is dark, quiet stoic. Maybe something like:

Severe as black satin,
Madame quietly glides amongst us
or stands inscrutable--
a mannequin backlit by a window.
[/B/

The stanza that starts with "Years pass" seems odd. At first I thought you were going to flash forward in time, but then you went on to further describe the young girls.

Title Suggestion:
"Madame's Academy" ? (she seems to have a prominent place in the image, so why not name the poem after her)

 

[Kate.E]

I think it's really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really really



good.

 

[Guest]

That's my kind of poem Angelina. Visual and image provoking. I can see how the suggestions will improve it. I'll be watching for the final draught to be among "New Poems".

 

[Rybka]

Title?

The title--sigh--I am terrible with titles. Any suggestions gratefully heard, poets (holds cap out pleadingly).

I like the mention of "Madame" in a title as has been suggested. I lean towards something like "Memories of Madame" or "Muscle Memories. There is a name/term for "muscle memories", but I cannot remember it right now. My first choice might be "xxx??xxx of Madame" if the term is more euphonic than, say "Engrams of Madame".
Maybe someone else can recall the term.

Just a thought,


Regards,                       Rybka

 

[Guest]

"Madames in the Making" ?

 

[The_Fool]

Hey, on this website better be careful how you throw that "Madame" phrase around.....*thinking*.....I DO call my dentist Madame Torturer, Queen of Pain.....Totally off the subject....Sorry!!!

BTW....Good stuff Ange....

 

[The_Fool]

Oh Yeah.....I've usually seen it as flourescent, rather than florescent, but I guess both are correct according to Microsoft...

 

[Lauren Hynde]

The title should hint the contrast between the studied grace and twirls of pain. The Madame and the Academy in themselves aren't important and distract from the theme.

Fluorescent and florescent are both words, but different ones. I think Angeline chose the more appropriate.

 

[The_Fool]

The title should hint the contrast between the studied grace and twirls of pain. The Madame and the Academy in themselves aren't important and distract from the theme.

Fluorescent and florescent are both words, but different ones. I think Angeline chose the more appropriate.

Thank you for enlightening me. That one sent me to the dictionary. Now you know why I go by The Fool....

 

[sideshow_cecil]

Oh, you know I was trying to think of a verb that works with glissade; I know 'moving' is blah, but a glissade is like what--sliding, shuffling? There has to be a precise term.

is it like sock skating?

 

[Angeline]

Sock Skating???

Lol, you silly Cecil. No. Nor is it like the Twist or the Mashed Potato (both of which I excel at, I might add). Besides, the idea of my little Degas princesses "sock skating" across the rehearsal room floor is just so so wrong.

But you know, I once heard the late (and great) tenor play Illinois Jacquet recount the following apocryphal story about the Count Basie Band. Basie and Co. were playing at (I believe) the Savoy Ballroom in Harlem, circa 1939ish. The music was swinging so hard and dancers hoofing so wild that the heels were flying off their shoes. Basie allegedly turned to the dancing audience and said "Well. Whatcha gonna do now? A hot sock dance?" *That* musta been some sock skating night.

But that's another poem entirely!

 

[Angeline]

Les Titles

Thank you all for your title suggestions. I almost went for Rybka's Engrams of Madame, which I love the sound of, but have decided--in a desperate attempt to class the poem up--that maybe more French is the answer. So now I'm considering les following choices:

Les Enfants de Madame

Les Danseurs de Madame

Valse des Années

L'Académie de Danse

I like the last one best, I think. Yknow even my titles sound good in French.

 

[Angeline]

Thank you for enlightening me. That one sent me to the dictionary. Now you know why I go by The Fool....

Whatever Lauren says I meant is right--not only for this poem, but in all things because:

a) she's always effin right
b) she's holding a gun behind those droopy drawers.