Today we have an interview with the one and only Mr. Michael Marberry, who is taking over (well, already has taken over, technically) as poetry editor. Michael is a fine southern gentleman, originally from Tennessee, who previously earned his Master’s at the University of Alabama. Without further ado, here are some questions and their answers, in no particular order at all.
ML: What’s your editorial philosophy as poetry editor? Who influenced you and are there any editors out there whom you consider a model for your own endeavors?
MM: In terms of editorial philosophy and preference, I’m most interested in stuff that…well…interests me. That sounds ridiculous and a bit cryptic too. But I suppose I’m being intentionally vague there because I want The Journal to be a home for narrative poetry, lyrical poetry, formalist poetry, imagistic poetry, political poetry, fractal poetry, translated poetry, erasure poetry, sound poetry, etc, etc, etc. I like all those “types” of poetry, and I think the table is big enough for everyone and every brand of poetry to find a seat somewhere, preferably next to someone/something quite different. I really want to publish stuff that I wish I’d written—even the stuff that I know I couldn’t possibly have written. I often ask myself: is this a poem that I want to read again (and again…and again). Does it compel me in some way—emotionally, cognitively, physically? Does it challenge me with something new or something old made new again? Is it surprising and important (whatever that means)?
ML: What are some poetry collections you’ve taken a shine to as of late?
MM: I just recently read a couple poetry collections that I thought were very interesting: Eduardo Corral’s Slow Lightning and Jorie Graham’s P L A C E. Talk about two different books by two different writers! But I was equally intrigued by what both brought to the table—the way they oscillated between narrative and lyricism, the way they explored ideas, emotions, events, things, etc. in a manner that was, at least to me, exciting and memorable. (We actually published a couple of Eduardo’s poems in last winter’s issue of The Journal.) A few older collections that I seem to return to often: Major Jackson’s Hoops, Louise Glück’s The Wild Iris, Maurice Manning’s Bucolics, Mary Ruefle’s A Little White Shadow. Those are just a few of the collections that I personally like. Tomorrow, I’ll remember more and kick myself for forgetting to mention them.
ML: When you say that you want every kind of poetry to have a seat at The Journal‘s table, that seems to speak to the fractured nature of the poetry scene right now. I wonder if that element of fractiousness is something you lament, or something you celebrate, or some combination of both.
MM: I think there is some sense of “fracture” in today’s poetry community. People tend to do different things or have different concerns or want to explore different ideas. Often, like-minded people gather together and read and promote and teach and share the work of their peers and/or those “masters” of the genre with whom they feel some sort of creative or ideological kinship. In some sense, I think some fracturing or grouping is unavoidable. As long as we challenge ourselves to also read those whose work differs from our own (e.g. aesthetically, formally, culturally, politically, etc.), I don’t believe that such fracturing need necessarily be a “problem” or something to be feared. I also don’t believe that “fracturing” is a unique phenomenon to those of us living and writing today. My guess is that the history of poetry (or fiction or non-fiction) is similarly fractured—that, although it may be useful/practical to remember history as being entirely unified or, at its most complicated, simply bifurcated, the history of anything is constituted by innumerable fractures of influence. It’s all excitingly messy.
ML: Good answer—I’m going to steal some of those lines. All right, moving right along, what other lit journals and magazines do you admire?
MM: Some of my personal favorites are Indiana Review, Copper Nickel, Hayden’s Ferry Review, and Sycamore Review. They consistently publish surprising stuff, I think, in each issue—stuff that I like to read multiple times. I’ve got a soft spot for Black Warrior Review because I used to do a little reading work there, and it’s also a really gorgeous publication with a very committed staff. I also admire Nashville Review and The Missouri Review, albeit for different reasons—the former because of their wide scope, publishing lots of different artists across lots of different genres, and the latter because of their depth, publishing multiple poems by only a few poets. But, like I said, there are lots of good journals out there—way too many to name here, in fact.
ML: This is a bit of curve ball, but what do you see as the role of the poet in the contemporary world? To your mind, what function does the poet perform in our technology-driven/dependent, high-speed culture?
MM: I only hope that people are fulfilling their own goals for what their work ought to ideally do and, in turn, constantly challenging themselves to rethink and refine those ideas, techniques, expectations, etc. In terms of The Journal, I always tell people: “Send us what you think is your best work.” And I mean it. The worst thing is when people send something that they think that I’ll think fulfills some role for what a poem “ought to do.” Send us your absolute best work regardless of whatever “role” or “function” you think it’s performing. We want to read it.
ML: To wrap this up and put a bow on it, what are your plans for the summer? What/who do you plan on reading?
MM: My summer plans are still largely to-be-determined. I’m hoping to travel a little bit to Tennessee and Michigan. I’ve got to do some preparation for the fantasy-football league that I do with my buddies back home each year. I just bought some books that I’m hoping to read—a short-story collection by Gabriel García Márquez and another by Roald Dahl. I’ll be watching lots of summer blockbusters. I’ll be working with some talented, local high-school students at OSU’s Young Writers Workshop. I’ll be revising my thesis and studying for GRE tests. And so on. I’ll probably drink a lot of iced coffee and Bell’s Oberon (but not at the same time).
To see some of Michael’s editorial work, all you need to do is crack the poetry pages of a recent edition of The Journal (he was helping out Tory last year). I want to thank him for sitting down with me for this interview, and thank all of you for reading. Until next time.