From reading a previous answer, you know that I consider all
From reading a previous answer, you know that I consider all those aspects to be part of American cultural myth and thus they figure into good American poetry, whether the poet is aware of what he is doing or not.
Hear the words of Diane Wakoski, a poet who reflects deeply on the shaping forces of culture and their presence in poetry: “From reading a previous answer, you know that I consider all those aspects to be part of American cultural myth and thus they figure into good American poetry, whether the poet is aware of what he is doing or not.” In this statement, Wakoski acknowledges the profound and often unconscious influence that myths and cultural narratives have on the writing of American poetry. She suggests that these myths—the stories, values, and symbols that shape a culture—are woven into the very fabric of poetry, whether the poet consciously intends it or not. The American cultural myth, with its stories of freedom, struggle, the frontier, and individualism, becomes an invisible thread running through much of the nation's verse, a force as powerful as the poet's own intentions.
The ancients understood the power of myth and its presence in art. In the early works of Homer, the Greek myths were not just stories but were the very substance of the culture. The gods, heroes, and mythic figures shaped the moral and emotional landscape of ancient Greece, and their influence seeped into every aspect of life—poetry, art, and even politics. These myths were alive in the people’s consciousness, and their reverberations shaped how they thought, acted, and created. Homer’s epics, especially the Iliad and the Odyssey, are the embodiment of these myths, and they are infused with cultural narratives of honor, fate, and the will of the gods. The poet did not merely invent these stories; they were the language of the people, the cultural bedrock upon which his work stood. Similarly, Wakoski speaks of the American cultural myth—those powerful narratives that influence every writer born into the culture, shaping their voice even when they are unaware.
Consider the story of Walt Whitman, one of the foundational voices in American poetry. Whitman’s work, particularly Leaves of Grass, is filled with the undercurrent of American myth: the myth of the self-made man, of the vast, untamed land, of the promise of freedom and equality. Though Whitman was deeply aware of his personal philosophy, his poetry also captures a collective yearning for something larger—something that speaks to the heart of America as a nation. Whitman’s voice, both personal and universal, speaks to the dream of America, its myth of expansion, self-determination, and boundless possibility. In a sense, Whitman was not only writing for himself; he was writing from within the very American myth that had shaped him. Even when a poet is not consciously aware of it, these myths breathe through their words, shaping their work in ways both obvious and subtle.
In this way, American poetry is inextricably tied to the national mythos. Whether poets are grappling with themes of individualism, the vastness of the American landscape, the clash of cultures, or the tensions between freedom and oppression, they are engaging with the cultural myths of America. Langston Hughes, for example, does not just write as an individual; his work is steeped in the myths of the African American experience—the struggle for identity, equality, and justice in a land founded on the ideals of freedom and democracy. Hughes’ poems are woven into the fabric of American cultural myth, as much about the individual journey as about the collective history and ongoing fight for civil rights. He, too, writes not only his personal truth, but also the truth of a nation still in the process of reconciling its myth with its reality.
This insight reveals a deeper truth for us all: poetry cannot escape the culture that births it. Poetry is always a reflection of its time, even when the poet does not consciously intend it. The myths, the values, the struggles of the culture inevitably find their way into the poet’s voice. A poet who writes about love and loss is also writing within the context of their cultural understanding of those experiences. Similarly, a poet who writes about war or injustice is engaging not just with the events of their time but with the larger narrative of cultural myth that frames those events. This is why great poetry resonates across time—it captures something more than personal experience; it captures the mythic truth of the age.
The lesson here is clear: poetry is not merely a personal endeavor; it is always in conversation with the world around it. The poet’s voice cannot escape the cultural forces that shape them, whether they are aware of it or not. As readers, we must listen to the myths within the words, understanding that each poem carries within it the influence of a larger narrative. As writers, we must be mindful of the myths that we are part of, whether they are American or universal, and how they shape the way we see the world. The most powerful poetry comes when the poet is aware of these influences and consciously engages with them, but even in the unconscious act of writing, poetry will carry the weight of the culture from which it springs.
Practical actions follow. As a poet, examine the myths that shape your work—whether you are writing in response to your country’s story, your community’s struggles, or the global narratives that influence your thoughts. Understand that your work is never written in a vacuum, and engage with these cultural myths rather than trying to ignore them. As a reader, recognize the myths within the poems you encounter. See how they reveal deeper truths about the culture that created them. Let these poems speak not just to the poet’s personal experience, but to the greater cultural forces at play. In this way, we honor poetry as a living dialogue between the individual and the larger world.
Thus, Wakoski’s words remind us that American poetry—like all poetry—is shaped by the cultural myths of its time. These myths guide the poet’s voice, even when the poet is unaware. By understanding the cultural forces at play in poetry, we can better understand the truths it seeks to express and the world from which it arises. Let us then approach poetry with an open heart, aware of the cultural stories that shape it, and find in each poem the myths that help us see ourselves and the world more clearly.
ISImono sakura
There’s something very perceptive here about the invisible forces shaping creativity. Wakoski seems to argue that culture seeps into art through instinct rather than intention. I’m curious, though—does that make poets cultural products more than individual voices? Or does the best poetry transform those inherited myths into something new? It feels like she’s acknowledging that even rebellion in art is a dialogue with the myths one grows up inside.
HQHuong Quynh
This comment makes me think about how deeply cultural identity runs in artistic expression. If every American poet, knowingly or not, channels national myth, does that mean poetry serves as a form of cultural archaeology? Perhaps each poem—no matter how personal—reveals something collective about the society that produced it. I wonder what myths dominate American poetry today and whether they differ from those of earlier generations.
CEhoc voi cho em
What strikes me most is Wakoski’s suggestion that awareness doesn’t necessarily matter. Even if poets aren’t deliberately engaging with cultural myth, they still reflect it. That’s fascinating because it implies poetry functions like a cultural mirror. But it raises a question—if myths are embedded unconsciously, can a poet ever escape them, or rewrite them? Maybe the act of writing poetry is itself an attempt to challenge the myths we live by.
KCKhanh Coi
I love the way this thought links poetry to unconscious cultural forces. It suggests that poets are participants in a national narrative whether they intend to be or not. Do you think this applies to all cultures, or is there something unique about the American mythos—its optimism, restlessness, or contradictions—that makes it especially pervasive in poetry? Maybe poetry is where those myths get tested, reimagined, or even dismantled.
BTBui Thuy
This statement feels both insightful and unsettling. If cultural myths inevitably shape poetry, then is any art truly independent from national identity? I’m curious whether Wakoski views this influence as enriching or limiting. Does being tied to a cultural mythology help American poets discover collective meaning, or does it risk narrowing their vision? Perhaps great poetry emerges precisely from the tension between self-expression and inherited myth.