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Dan Schneider

The New Yorker has not published any good poems, much less great ones, since the mid 1970s. And Jorie Graham a Master? Here's a poem the New Yorker rejected, and one which Grajam, or any of the others mentioned, could not write in a thousand lifetimes.

Robert Peake

Does anyone still turn to the New Yorker to take the pulse of poetry? These kinds of debates about "misused influence" run counter to the fact that even established magazines are vulnerable to having their reputations eroded by consistent mistakes.

Jessica Schneider

"First, The New Yorker tends to run bad poems by excellent poets".

Last time I checked Donald Hall was far from being an 'excellent poet'. Also, this brings me to my next point:

"This occurs in part because the magazine has to take Big Names"

Why? No one outside the poetry world/universities would even know who Jorie Graham is. I thought the whole purpose of the magazine (at least they did this back in the 50's and 60's when quality poets like Plath and Sexton appeared) is to give 'new writers' more exposure. Everyone knows that in the publishing world, a publication in the New Yorker is like a free ticket for a book deal. Ok then, why would Donald Hall, who has already published many books, need another publication? And a Pulitzer Prize winner already has an "in". Let new writers have a chance. But they don't. So to me, that defeats the whole purpose to why they publish creative work in the first place. Not to mention that the work they are publishing by these so called 'big names' is not anything worth reading.


Perhaps "master" was the wrong word. Maybe I'm just hyping Graham's new collection out from Ecco next year! Perhaps I was careless.

I agree with each of you. Much of what's been said goes for the New Yorker's fiction as well, which seems to lose page-space each month.

I'm not sure what the motivation behind the artless "fluff" that has been appearing in the New Yorker. The editors seem to want the readers to feel smart. What would their tagline be? "Read the New Yorker. Understand the greatest poetry ever written. The modernists were schizophrenic hacks!" Or something like that, I don't know.

It looks like we're on the same page, anyhow.

Dan Schneider

Since fiction is easier than poetry, the crap they write is even more shameful. I've sebt a few NY based tales- one based on 9/11, that is far better than the shit tale by Sherman Alexie (oo la la, an American Indian), yet they publish crap, like a tale last year, translated from the French, about a guy digging through his sewer line. Apt metaphor.


"in their reach for the sun, to cast upon it, its Light,
which reveals, to its makers, a vision to benight"

Dude, that's horrible writing, like a hack Victorian poem. Good thing you copyright all your poems on the site you linked us to, otherwise the ghost of some retarded 18th century poet might come along and steal your lame, tin ear, trite poems.

And by the way, Donald Hall is a great poet, and our current Poet Laureate.
I do, however, agree that most of the poems, 90 percent, published in The New Yorker are crap.


ポロラルフローレンプログラム間では、私の読者は注意して、ああシーンのトラップを示すことが、POLO ラルフローレン私にテキストメッセージを送信するとの良好な関係があります。私は彼らが驚きを作成すると思っていた、地面に掘られたトラップは、それがパワーに来たときに慎重に穴の恐怖心から足を見てきた。



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