I definitely wish to distinguish American poetry from British or
I definitely wish to distinguish American poetry from British or other English language poetry.
Listen well to the words of Diane Wakoski, who speaks with clarity about the distinction of American poetry: “I definitely wish to distinguish American poetry from British or other English language poetry.” In this reflection, Wakoski underscores the unique nature of American poetry, a voice that echoes not only the traditions of the English language but also the singular experience of the American people. American poetry, in her view, must be recognized for what it is: a distinct tradition born of a diverse, tumultuous history, rooted in the land itself, and shaped by the cultural forces that have come together to form this young, sprawling nation. To conflate it with British poetry or the wider English tradition is to ignore the particular experiences, struggles, and freedoms that have given rise to American verse.
The ancients understood that the land from which a poet hailed shaped their voice, their perspective, and their work. Consider Homer, whose epics, The Iliad and The Odyssey, were not only reflections of Greek culture but were tied intimately to the geography, gods, and customs of the Greek world. The landscape—the shores, the mountains, the cities—became a living, breathing part of the narrative. In the same way, American poetry is inextricable from the vast expanse of the land, from the frontier spirit, the struggles of the Civil War, the experience of immigration, and the complex history of freedom and oppression. The spirit of America, as expressed through poetry, cannot be understood simply by looking at British traditions or classical forms. It must be examined through the lens of American experience.
Consider the difference between Walt Whitman and William Wordsworth, two towering figures in their respective traditions. Whitman, in Leaves of Grass, created a new poetic language for a new land. His work is infused with the optimism and expansive sense of American identity, celebrating the individual, the body, and the endless possibilities of the nation. Whitman’s poems are vast, democratic, and alive with the energy of a nation on the move. Wordsworth, on the other hand, was concerned with nature, memory, and the subtleties of emotion, deeply connected to the British landscape and its long history of pastoral tradition. While both poets are brilliant, Whitman’s American poetry is fundamentally shaped by the struggles and the promise of the American experience—something Wordsworth could never fully capture, as his work was grounded in a very different historical and cultural context.
This distinction between American poetry and the British tradition is crucial because it reflects the differing worlds each poet inhabits. The American poet lives in a land of expansive horizons, of youth and revolution, of rapid change and evolution. The British poet is often grounded in the ancient, the pastoral, the established. American poetry is inherently more dynamic, shaped by a constantly shifting cultural and political landscape. Whether it is the revolutionary fervor of Emily Dickinson, the wanderlust and individualism of Langston Hughes, or the modernist experimentation of Ezra Pound, the voices of American poets speak to the unique experiences of a nation that was still finding its identity while grappling with the legacies of colonization, slavery, and immigration.
Wakoski’s desire to distinguish American poetry from British poetry is not just about language or structure; it is about the very heart of poetry itself. The themes, the experiences, and the emotions of American poetry reflect the American experience—a history of seeking, questioning, and reinventing. In American poetry, we find a voice that is both rebellious and hopeful, individualistic and communal, haunted by the past and always looking toward the future. The American poet is not merely a product of the past, but a creature of the present, wrestling with what it means to belong to this land and this moment.
The lesson here is one of identity—that poetry, as a reflection of culture, cannot be understood through the lens of another’s experience. To truly understand American poetry, one must appreciate the landscape that shaped it: the vastness of the land, the complexity of the people, the tension between freedom and justice. American poets speak not only in the language of English, but in the language of a country still coming to terms with its ideals, its contradictions, and its promise. This is why American poetry is distinct—it is a voice of exploration, of ambition, of struggle, and of revolution.
Practical actions follow. If you are a poet, understand that your voice is shaped by the culture and history that surrounds you. Do not be afraid to embrace your own American identity, and let that influence the way you write. If you are a reader, seek out American poets who speak to the unique experience of this land. Poetry is not a one-size-fits-all art form. Every tradition has its own rhythm, its own soul, and its own story. By understanding the distinction between American poetry and British poetry, you gain a deeper appreciation for the diversity of poetic voices that shape the world.
Thus, Wakoski calls us to recognize that American poetry is not a mere imitation of British poetry, but a unique and vital tradition that speaks to the heart of the American experience. As writers and readers, let us honor the distinctiveness of this tradition, and let it inspire us to create and understand poetry that reflects the depth and complexity of our shared history. Poetry is a living thing, and its roots are in the land, the people, and the struggles that define the culture from which it springs.
QTTruong Quynh Tang
I can understand Wakoski’s desire to distinguish American poetry, but I’m curious about the reasons behind it. Is it about reclaiming authenticity or establishing a separate aesthetic lineage? Poetry in English has so many crosscurrents of influence that national borders can feel blurry. Yet maybe she’s right—language evolves differently in different cultures. Could it be that American poetry reflects a more diverse, restless, and self-questioning tradition than its British counterpart?
PKPanda Kungfu
This comment raises an interesting question about cultural voice. I get the sense that Wakoski wants to assert independence for American poetry, perhaps resisting the shadow of British literary heritage. But what exactly makes a poem ‘American’? Is it subject matter, diction, or attitude? Maybe it’s something intangible—a spirit of openness, risk, and contradiction that reflects the complexity of American life and history.
KLHoang Khanh Linh
I find this distinction fascinating but also complicated. Can we truly separate American poetry from the broader English language tradition when so many influences overlap? Maybe what Wakoski means is that American poetry has a unique energy—more democratic, colloquial, or self-inventive. But then, does defining poetry by nationality risk limiting it? I’d love to know what she believes sets American poetic identity apart from the rest.
YNyen nguyen
This statement makes me wonder what Wakoski sees as the defining qualities of American poetry. Is it the voice, the rhythm, the themes of individuality and landscape? British poetry often carries a sense of tradition, while American poetry seems more experimental and raw. Do you think national identity inevitably shapes poetic expression, or can a poem transcend geography while still carrying traces of its cultural roots?