The Poems Submitted
This year I was one of the judges for the Canterbury Festival’s annual Poet of the Year competition. It was a rewarding experience and merits a description of what was involved. In last month’s blog, we looked at the process of selection, but here in part two, I ask, what of the poems themselves?
Themes ranged across relationships, illness, old age, grief, urban and rural landscapes, environment, refugees, social justice, and wildlife (especially birds). Submitted poems ranged from twenty words to three pages in length and from block text to single-word line lengths. Whatever the means or form of expression, it was the quality of the poetry that counted, and many failed in this and were excluded in the first pass.
Ideally, a work should have an unusual theme or novel approach to a usual theme. It should carry some emotional heft or transport the reader. It should open a space for the reader to find their own interpretation.
Unfortunately, some entries appeared to be using their work as a form of self-therapy, or to extol a specific political view; whilst some basked in familiar places without any wider meaning; and some seemed to be writing just a stream of consciousness, which was sometimes impenetrable. A poem is a perception not an opinion. Some were opinion pieces that did not allow the reader room for their own interpretation.
Some did not communicate their intentions. There were common failings like spelling mistakes or the use of clichés, which spoiled an otherwise good poem and made the difference between a poem making the longlist or not. Other examples were where poems included archaic language, e.g. inversions or were written in an older style. This could be done purposely for light verse reasons, but this was not always the case. Conventionally vernacular modern language is preferred.
Checklists Used for Selection
Some of the judges used a written checklist. In our case, separate ones were developed by each of the judges. My checklist was grouped into major headings, such as Inspiration, Innovation, and Craft. I used over twenty questions, divided into categories, and rated each work against these major categories. A total score for each work helped identify the best ones. However, there is sometimes also an X-factor that does not get picked up by checklists, e.g. a poem that sticks in the memory.
After reading the poem twice, I judged the work against my checklist, generating scores that I could use later in discussions amongst the judges at the reconciliation meeting and for writing critiques of the short-listed works.
These checklists should not be applied too mathematically. For the judge, they act as a reminder of the multiple facets that may make up a good poem. It helped maintain consistency of selection across the hundreds of works, giving each a fair chance.
Qualification for Judges
Each year’s winner is invited to be one of the three judges for the following year’s contest. There is also a standing judge/convener and a third by invitation. This year, I was invited to be one of the judges of the competition. But did I feel worthy?
Here was my justification to myself. I read contemporary poetry in national and international journals. I regularly read and comment on all poems in a couple of literary journals. I am a member of several critical workshops, regularly reviewing new work, so, I felt familiar with the critical analysis of new poetry. I know this competition having been previously shortlisted and longlisted several times. When I was invited, I used several critical analysis studies to synthesise a selection checklist. So yes, my selection did feel justified, but I recognised that it was a learning process for myself too.
Conclusion
Several poems were of the calibre to be winning material, but there could be only one at the end. What made the winner? It was the consensus of the judges behind it, mutually agreeing on their best poem.
To those not selected, I have this message: please try again. Poets need to read a lot, especially contemporary poetry. The sheer number of entries meant that some good poems did not make it to the longlist. The judges see only a number on the page not your name; so, we are not judging you, only the quality of the poem. Be inspired by a theme, find a novel approach, use language well, inventively, and correctly, seek the advice of trusted readers, and one year you could see your own work placed. Poetry is a process of constant learning and improvement.
In hindsight, looking at the winner and the placed entries, I am convinced that we found an optimum selection and that having several judges increased fairness, range, and mitigated any perceived favouritism or bias. As a judge, I ended with a better appreciation of what a good poem is and the sheer variety of expression in the world of poetry today.
