
![]() |
| toolbar powered by Conduit |







This from Ploughshares:
It occured to me the perfect confrontation between the ironic and the sincere. In the movie, at least in this scene, the sincere has the upper hand. In the ideal writer, however, I suppose these characters’ traits would be combined, aesthetics dictating what percent of each character would be included.
I haven’t seen the movie (Mulholland Drive) from which this scene is extracted, but I like the idea Chris Tonelli is working with. Irony is one of my favorite poetic techniques. But I’m a little bit unnerved at the thought of irony and sincerity being put beside each other this way. It’s as if Chris is saying that one cannot be ironic and sincere at the same time unless one is aesthetically inclined. I may be interpreting it incorrectly.
In my mind, irony is the sincerest form of word play. It allows us to see the world through the lens of opposites without being overtly confrontational. There is always a silent humor attached to irony no matter how dark it might be. The humor is typically a light, a beacon that shines with an illumination of some truth the reader is intended to glean from the poetic tool itself. This sincere gesture on the part of the writer is most effective when the reader shares a common set of values. Otherwise, the irony runs the risk of not being recognized.
Irony, sincerity, humor, truth - like a ball of yarn, the elements just tangle themselves into a toy of usefulness. What is a mere plaything for one cat is a useful tool of trade for a spinner. The writer plays; the author spins a yarn. The reader either gets on the level of the cat and enjoys the fun or heads to the department store to consume a garment. Either response is acceptable, but one can’t do both. Ahh, the irony!
Hyperbole seems to have cross-over appeal. It’s not just for poetry any more.
What I mean is this: Anyone who has something to communicate can whip out a hyperbole and sling it around like a broadsword. I picture some political commentators (I won’t name names) in a David Carradine-like movie fighting the evil dragon of “the other” or perhaps “the opposite side of the aisle” using their favorite deadly weapon - the hyperbole. Ann Coulter (oops, that slipped out) comes to mind.
Political commentators tend to use hyperbole when discussing issues that are close to their hearts, which puts good political rhetoric right up there with the masters of writing poetry, giving the whole political spectrum a boost in spiritual and psychological value and a bump (thump?) in economic worth. Except that this isn’t quite true. For some reason, when political ideologues use hyperbole, their economic value goes up while their spiritual and psychological value goes down. This makes me wonder how poets can wrest the power of hyperbole back from the hands of political ideologues.
I’m not quite sure, on the other hand, that most poets have an interest in taking hyperbole back. Particularly political poets. Most political poets consider themselves to be purveyors of truth - which is itself a sort of hyperbole - but in their poetry they seem to lack the use of this poetic technique. That is ironic since political poetry would benefit a great deal from the use of the rhetorical hyperbole that characterizes much of political speech.
Curiously, hyperbole can be used in any type of poem, political or otherwise. Its use is more than academic. It is necessary, for writers of prose and poetry alike have always been known to be liars and exaggerators. Without the use of hyperbole, I suppose neither poetry nor political speech hold any interest for serious students of them. I for one love hyperbole - it is exciting, gut-wrenching when used correctly, and thought provoking, and if it gets the ire of some opponent or the love of a friend then its value has proven itself.