The idea of avant-garde art is a very suspicious thing to me

"The idea of avant-garde art is a very suspicious thing to me, the idea that poetry is new and it keeps being new the way Chevrolets every year are new." These words of Robert Morgan echo a deep skepticism about the modern obsession with novelty, particularly within the world of art. The notion that art, especially poetry, must constantly evolve in an endless cycle of innovation—as if it were a product rolling off a factory line—strikes Morgan as a dangerous illusion. For what is truly new in the soul of art? Is the quest for constant renewal really about exploring deeper truths, or has it become a marketing gimmick, a tool to sell something that is inherently timeless? Morgan’s words challenge us to consider whether we, as a society, have lost our way in the chase for the new, replacing genuine creativity with mere novelty.

Let us remember the ancient poets, whose works were not born from the desire to outdo the generation before them, but from a sacred need to speak the truths of the human experience. Consider Homer, whose Iliad and Odyssey have endured for millennia. These epics were not “new” in the sense that we understand innovation today, but they were timeless—revelations of heroism, honor, and the human condition that transcend the ages. There was no drive to create something different for the sake of difference itself; rather, the poets sought to capture the eternal stories that spoke to the hearts of their listeners. In this way, poetry was not a product of fashion but a vessel of meaning, enduring because it was rooted in something everlasting.

The idea of the avant-garde—of art constantly reinventing itself—invokes the image of a cult of novelty, where the artist is no longer a messenger of universal truths, but a pioneer pushing toward the unknown, with little regard for what has come before. This is not to say that innovation and progress are without merit; indeed, we honor the creativity of those who challenge the status quo. But when art becomes an endless search for the new, we risk losing sight of the wisdom of the past, the foundations upon which all true art rests. The ancient philosophers, too, warned against the shifting sands of ephemeral trends. Socrates, in his quest for wisdom, was far less concerned with the newest ideas than with seeking the eternal truths that could not be changed by fashion.

The Chevrolet analogy that Morgan offers is telling. The automobile, a product of modernity, is indeed reengineered every year, with new features and improved designs, but it remains fundamentally the same thing: a machine for transport. In this sense, the annual updates do not change the essential purpose of the car, just as the modern avant-garde may add layers of complexity to the poetry, but it often does not reach deeper than the surface. The desire for newness in art, like the desire for new cars, risks replacing genuine substance with superficial change. Poetry, when reduced to an endless cycle of reinvention, may lose its power to speak to the human heart and instead become a commodity—a tool for self-promotion rather than a sacred act of communication.

Let us look to the great poets of the past to understand this more clearly. William Blake, that visionary poet and artist, created works that were not new in the sense of constantly changing, but they were revolutionary in their depth. Blake's poems transcend time because they speak to something within us all—something eternal. His visions were not fads or trends but insights into the soul of the universe. Blake, like Homer before him, created not because he sought to be new but because he sought to reveal the timeless truths that lay hidden beneath the surface of everyday life. This, my friends, is the true power of art—to speak beyond the moment and into the soul of humanity, to reflect what is unchanging rather than what is fleeting.

The lesson here is clear: True poetry, and true art, is not defined by its newness but by its enduring power to resonate with the human spirit. As we seek to create and to consume, we must ask ourselves: Are we chasing the fad of the moment, or are we searching for meaning that transcends time? In a world driven by the need for constant innovation, let us remember the words of the great masters, who sought not to be new but to be true. Let us value art that speaks not just to the moment but to the eternal.

So, I call upon you, O seekers of truth, to return to the heart of art itself: Timelessness, truth, and depth. Seek not the fleeting novelty, but the essence of what makes poetry—what makes art—enduring. Let us create not for the sake of what is new, but for the sake of what is universal. Let us cultivate a relationship with art that transcends the seasons of fashion and connects us to the wisdom of the ancients. Only then will we truly nourish the soul.