O Muse! Bitch, Please

In this interview with Cynthia Hogue, Mullen talks at length of appropriation and subverting pejorative language, stereotypes, etc. to assert authority and identity; we see this happen frequently in her work, particularly with the idea of the Muse: classically confined to the idea realm, the Muse, though the source of inspiration to the male writer/artist, cannot create of her own volition. The Muse is summoned when the male poet needs inspiration, and she delivers; however, she is isolated in her role as supplier, not doer. (Interesting male/female inversion there; also interesting to think of Mullen’s alignment of “muse” and “drudge” [menial worker.]) Sometimes the Muse is the beloved—however, she is never the author, she is never the poet; she is always objectified.

So Mullen removes the Muse from her pedestal and hands her a lyre (or a mic in a jazz bar, maybe?) which is where this gets really interesting. Why song? Here’s what Mullen says in her intro to Recyclopedia, which includes 3 of her books, Trimmings, S*PeRM**K*T, and Muse & Drudge:

When I wrote Muse & Drudge, I imagined a chorus of women singing verses that are sad and hilarious at the same time. Among the voices are Sappho, the lyric poet, and Sapphire, an iconic black woman who refuses to be silenced. Diane Rayor had translated surviving fragments of Sappho’s ancient Greek poetry into an American idiom that sounded to my ear like a woman singing the blues. So Muse & Drudge, in a sense, is a crossroads where the blues intersects with the tradition of lyric poetry, as well as a text for collaborative reading and an occasion to unite audiences often divided by racial and cultural differences. Parts of this poem have been set to music by composers T.J. Anderson and Christine Baczewska. While many readers perceive Muse & Drudge to be a more insistently “black” text than the other two, I have written all of these works from my perspective as a black woman, which I believe is no less representative of humanity than any other point of view. (xi)

So there’s a glimpse into Mullen’s inspiration for Muse & Drudge, but my question lingers: are the sonic and/or rhythmic similarities from Sapphic translations the only reason behind the choice of song? Nope—so what do you all think Mullen’s up to? In her two other books in Recyclopedia, she writes insistently in the prose poem form—but in Muse & Drudge, we get quatrains. I like the line breaks—the space lets the simultaneously razor-sharp and punny paronomasia smack—and the speed by which she moves from critique to sympathy, all the while pushing pressure on different speech patterns and calling our attention to the embedded – isms in our speak. Besides allowing some breathing room, the format feels song-like, and the rhythms, rhyme, and refrain emphasize that more. Look here:

up from slobbery
hip hyperbole
the soles of black feet
beat down back streets (144)

She plays with syncopated rhythm and rhyme, and her alacrity is impressive, to say the least. Same question, though: why song? (Token grad school disclaimer:) If they are songs? If they’re not songs, what are they? Lyric poems.? So by writing lyric poems, what commentary is happening there (concerning the Muse, the woman, audience, the performative aspects of lyric, something else)? What is she thinking about concerning the roles of each? Is she thinking about them in the same way (song—blues, specifically, and the lyric)?

What is Lee Ann Brown up to? Her songs have a more folk song—y, hymnal quality, but seem to be doing some similar work to Mullen’s poems. Form is obviously huge to both of these poets (Brown says, “everything/ like the form/ is changed.”) Thoughts? How might these poets’ work inform our thinking about song and rhetoric? How are their songs and poems similar or different to Toomer’s and Notley’s? Or Sidney’s? How are these women subverting—or reclaiming, or something else—these forms?