Imagery: Where to start?

I notice that imagery in poetry is one of the hardest concepts for students to grasp. We all see things so clearly with our eyes and in memory that it’s usually a revelation for people to realize they haven’t actually managed to get it down on paper, so we, the readers, get to see what the writer does.

Start with the large view. This is what we as a species are evolved to do: what’s going on? Is what I’m seeing a threat?

Pretend you’re walking down a street. It’s dark and not the best part of town. A figure approaches. It’s on the far side of the street—and then suddenly it darts across. The person is now coming toward you on the same side of the street. What’re you looking for? Size, by which I mean height and bulk. Gender. You’ll likely feel less threatened if it’s a woman, though the person’s behaviour has already made you jumpy. You’ll be looking hard at what kind of energy the person is projecting. You still can’t see their face, so you’re making do with body language for the interim. Is the person swaggering? If the person appears to totter or hobble, you’re going to be a lot less intimidated.

The New York police did a study a number of years ago. They could predict who was going to be a victim solely on the basis of how they walked. Scary, eh? Those who really strode out with confidence would almost never be attacked.

So, you’re still on the dark street, on the other side of the equation, watching this figure come toward you. By now you can get some sense of how the person is dressed. A tuxedo with a white shirt? Well, relax.

A black leather jacket with lots of chains jingling? You might choose to cross the street yourself, especially as you can now see the figure is male. He has ripped jeans on; you can see a flash of white skin showing. He has a shaved head; you can see a tattoo of flames rising around his neck.

All this is turning into a story, but the point is, start with the macro and work to the micro. So often with poetry I find students get lost in details. Last week I was handed a poem about Krishna. We started with blue brushstrokes, then we backed up to see the paper. Then we got some details of Krishna’s eyes. Then there was a miracle where the scent of jasmine filled the air. It’s not until the last stanza of the poem that the reader discovered this was actually a painting in a shrine.

The reader was very visually discombobulated. As readers, we’re always trying to orient ourselves, to throw up images and figure out what’s going on in the poem. When we have to back up or completely revise our images, we tend not to like this.

Another poem started off with “a man” in the first line. Three stanzas down the reader found out it was a figurine two or three inches high. The reader, who had a more-or-less six-foot high image had to rapidly shrink it. We also had to shift from the animate to the inanimate. Again, very disconcerting.

Start your poem with an image. Make it clear to your reader what’s going on. Cue us in. We love that. Then we’ll follow the poem along quite happily. Here are some examples of the first few lines of poems from prominent contemporary writers.

Sweet Time by Molly Peacock (From Cornucopia, WW Norton, 2004)

The largest bud in creation travels

up the swollen stem of the amaryllis

like a ship in a womb up a river.

. . .

Adults by Jack Gilbert (From Refusing Heaven, Knopf, 2005)

The sea lies in its bed wet and naked

in the dark. Half a moon glimmers on it

as though someone had come through

a door with the light behind. . . .

The Ring by D. Nurske (From Burnt Island, Knopf, 2006)

In May when the winged seeds

skitter on the pavement

and pollen clouds the names

carved in the elms,

. . .

See how clearly each of the above writers sets their scenes? We’re never visually confused. This is a huge gift to give your reader.