Is rhyming verse more difficult than free verse?
Posted: Fri Oct 05, 2012 11:41 am
In Stephen’s Magpie thread Val asked which was more difficult to write…rhyming verse or free verse. It’s an interesting question, one worth exploring in some detail in a separate thread.
To begin with, I understand what Neville is saying about categories, but still think the issue should be considered…if for no other reason than it’s a question that will continue to be asked.
For example, it has been argued that the requirements of metre and rhyme make rhyming poetry more difficult to write. I’ve seen this given as the reason why teachers and students tend to shy away from it these days, particularly when it comes to the problems involved in tackling metre. It’s all just ‘too hard’. This attitude is heightened by the perception that free verse is pretty much a case of ‘anything goes’…in other words, you can write anything in any format you like and call it poetry. This idea obviously has appeal!
The issue is complicated by the fact that some people ‘get’ metre and rhyme, and so find that traditional verse flows quite naturally. They have to work at the finer points, such as imagery and metaphor, but an understanding of the basic structure is innate…a skill they were born with. Others can grasp the ‘rules’, but it’s a constant struggle to get the lines operating effectively…rather like herding cats. Sometimes they just won’t do what you want! Then there are those who don’t understand metre and rhyme at all, and probably never will. It’s simply a foreign language. And here’s one point where I’d differ with Neville. For those in the last category, no amount of reading or practice will make much difference at all. Overall, it’s a bit like dancing, where ability ranges from those who effortlessly move in time to the beat, through those who can make a reasonable fist of it, and then to those who are totally incapable of relating physical movement to the music.
Where an individual writer falls on that spectrum will obviously influence any perception of relative difficulty. Those who lack any sense of rhythm would presumably insist that free verse is ‘easier’, but whether they can succeed with it is another question. I’ve always thought that there should be an underlying rhythm to anything that’s written, be it prose, free verse, or traditional verse. That is, it should be written in such a way that anyone reading it can do so without stumbling or hesitating because a word or phrase is out of place. Any form of distraction lessens the impact of whatever it is the writer is trying to say.
For argument’s sake, let’s assume that a poet has a good basic understanding of metre and rhyme. Would he or she find free verse or traditional verse easier? Answers will vary from person to person, but it’s worth teasing out the question from the point of view of the advantages and disadvantages presented by each genre (as defined in the most general terms).
The structure of traditional verse offers wonderful opportunities to exploit the regular metre and the rhyming pattern in order to create an effect. This is particularly true for comic verse, and explains why humorous poems, when performed well, are so popular at bush poetry festivals. Here, both metre and rhyme may be exaggerated, with hilarious results.
But metre and rhyme can also provide a powerful medium for serious verse, with an emphasis on the dramatic and moving rather than the comedic. The difficulty here lies in keeping the flow of lines as natural as possible, so that the rhythm and rhyme do not intrude unnecessarily on the story being told. The structure has to work in harmony with the narrative. If you like, the music and the lyrics have to combine flawlessly.
Free verse, on the other hand, has an advantage in that it offers a much more flexible approach to layout. In other words, the physical appearance of the poem on the page can be used as part of the means of communication. Lines can be broken in all manner of ways, punctuation may or may not exist, and the whole stanza-by-stanza format common with traditional verse can be completely abandoned.
But therein lies a trap. I’ve argued elsewhere that sometimes this means the baby gets thrown out with the bathwater, and the message becomes lost in a mass of incomprehensible, jumbled verbiage. To me, sense is paramount, and it can be too easy to be led astray by the ‘anything goes’ approach to free verse. There is flexibility, but that should not mean chaos. There seems little point writing a poem which is so weird that the reader simply gives up. I have no problem with requiring the reader to work at understanding what a poem is about, but a spaghetti-soup of words apparently tossed at random on the page are not at all helpful in attracting a wider reading public. The prospective audience must always be kept in mind.
The point here is that free verse, although perhaps superficially attractive as an ‘easy option’, is deceptive. Lacking some of the basic building blocks available in rhyming verse, it requires the development of other techniques in order to communicate effectively.
From my own perspective, the choice of genre doesn’t come down to a question of difficulty. It’s more to do with which format will best convey what I’m trying to say, and this is also related to subject-matter and language. Sometimes it’ll be traditional verse, sometimes free verse, and sometimes a short story. Occasionally (and this is a useful writing exercise) I’ll explore the same issue as both free verse and rhyming verse. In workshops, interestingly, it is usually the case that the traditional version of a poem is the more popular of the two.
Overlaying all of this, of course, is the whole ‘like’ and ‘dislike’ problem. Some people can’t stand rhyming verse, others loathe free verse. There’s a fair bit of polarisation, which is unfortunate, because they’re not separate universes. Each has something to offer the other when it comes to maximising our chances of effective communication.
Cheers
David
To begin with, I understand what Neville is saying about categories, but still think the issue should be considered…if for no other reason than it’s a question that will continue to be asked.
For example, it has been argued that the requirements of metre and rhyme make rhyming poetry more difficult to write. I’ve seen this given as the reason why teachers and students tend to shy away from it these days, particularly when it comes to the problems involved in tackling metre. It’s all just ‘too hard’. This attitude is heightened by the perception that free verse is pretty much a case of ‘anything goes’…in other words, you can write anything in any format you like and call it poetry. This idea obviously has appeal!
The issue is complicated by the fact that some people ‘get’ metre and rhyme, and so find that traditional verse flows quite naturally. They have to work at the finer points, such as imagery and metaphor, but an understanding of the basic structure is innate…a skill they were born with. Others can grasp the ‘rules’, but it’s a constant struggle to get the lines operating effectively…rather like herding cats. Sometimes they just won’t do what you want! Then there are those who don’t understand metre and rhyme at all, and probably never will. It’s simply a foreign language. And here’s one point where I’d differ with Neville. For those in the last category, no amount of reading or practice will make much difference at all. Overall, it’s a bit like dancing, where ability ranges from those who effortlessly move in time to the beat, through those who can make a reasonable fist of it, and then to those who are totally incapable of relating physical movement to the music.
Where an individual writer falls on that spectrum will obviously influence any perception of relative difficulty. Those who lack any sense of rhythm would presumably insist that free verse is ‘easier’, but whether they can succeed with it is another question. I’ve always thought that there should be an underlying rhythm to anything that’s written, be it prose, free verse, or traditional verse. That is, it should be written in such a way that anyone reading it can do so without stumbling or hesitating because a word or phrase is out of place. Any form of distraction lessens the impact of whatever it is the writer is trying to say.
For argument’s sake, let’s assume that a poet has a good basic understanding of metre and rhyme. Would he or she find free verse or traditional verse easier? Answers will vary from person to person, but it’s worth teasing out the question from the point of view of the advantages and disadvantages presented by each genre (as defined in the most general terms).
The structure of traditional verse offers wonderful opportunities to exploit the regular metre and the rhyming pattern in order to create an effect. This is particularly true for comic verse, and explains why humorous poems, when performed well, are so popular at bush poetry festivals. Here, both metre and rhyme may be exaggerated, with hilarious results.
But metre and rhyme can also provide a powerful medium for serious verse, with an emphasis on the dramatic and moving rather than the comedic. The difficulty here lies in keeping the flow of lines as natural as possible, so that the rhythm and rhyme do not intrude unnecessarily on the story being told. The structure has to work in harmony with the narrative. If you like, the music and the lyrics have to combine flawlessly.
Free verse, on the other hand, has an advantage in that it offers a much more flexible approach to layout. In other words, the physical appearance of the poem on the page can be used as part of the means of communication. Lines can be broken in all manner of ways, punctuation may or may not exist, and the whole stanza-by-stanza format common with traditional verse can be completely abandoned.
But therein lies a trap. I’ve argued elsewhere that sometimes this means the baby gets thrown out with the bathwater, and the message becomes lost in a mass of incomprehensible, jumbled verbiage. To me, sense is paramount, and it can be too easy to be led astray by the ‘anything goes’ approach to free verse. There is flexibility, but that should not mean chaos. There seems little point writing a poem which is so weird that the reader simply gives up. I have no problem with requiring the reader to work at understanding what a poem is about, but a spaghetti-soup of words apparently tossed at random on the page are not at all helpful in attracting a wider reading public. The prospective audience must always be kept in mind.
The point here is that free verse, although perhaps superficially attractive as an ‘easy option’, is deceptive. Lacking some of the basic building blocks available in rhyming verse, it requires the development of other techniques in order to communicate effectively.
From my own perspective, the choice of genre doesn’t come down to a question of difficulty. It’s more to do with which format will best convey what I’m trying to say, and this is also related to subject-matter and language. Sometimes it’ll be traditional verse, sometimes free verse, and sometimes a short story. Occasionally (and this is a useful writing exercise) I’ll explore the same issue as both free verse and rhyming verse. In workshops, interestingly, it is usually the case that the traditional version of a poem is the more popular of the two.
Overlaying all of this, of course, is the whole ‘like’ and ‘dislike’ problem. Some people can’t stand rhyming verse, others loathe free verse. There’s a fair bit of polarisation, which is unfortunate, because they’re not separate universes. Each has something to offer the other when it comes to maximising our chances of effective communication.
Cheers
David