•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••INTRODUCTION
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••tim kendall
The term ‘war poetry’ has become so familiar that its internal tensions often go
unnoticed. Yet it seems hard to imagine two human activities more unlike each
other than experiencing a war and writing a poem. One suggests destruction, the
other creation; one chaos, the other order; one pain, the other pleasure. War poetry
accommodates binary oppositions, most notably life and death: if poetry is, as Louis
MacNeice claims, ‘always positive’, so that even ‘a poem in praise of suicide is an
act of homage to life’,^1 then a war poem must be at war with itself, its affirming
flame illuminating a dark subject-matter. Some critics, such as John Lyon in this
present volume, consider the mismatch to be fatal: better to fall silent than to write
a poem which, by making formal sense out of war’s violent nonsense, betrays the
facts. Truth is a weapon to which soldier-poets during the twentieth century often
lay claim. Nevertheless, according to its detractors, war poetry may be true neither
to war nor to poetry.
Theodor Adorno, the modern philosopher most often associated with these
debates (and not merely because of what he is supposed to have said about poetry
after Auschwitz), raises a similar concern in relation to Holocaust art: ‘The so-
called artistic representation of the sheer physical pain of people beaten to the
ground by rifle-butts contains, however remotely, the power to elicit enjoyment
out of it.’^2 Adorno’s mistake is to idealize art: his ‘so-called’ has already judged
the case, disqualifying as unworthy of the name any art which refuses to behave as
decorously as he would wish. Adorno ignores the horrific possibility that delight
(^1) Louis MacNeice, ‘Broken Windows or Thinking Aloud’, inSelected Prose of Louis MacNeice,ed.
Alan Heuser (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990), 138.
(^2) Theodor Adorno, ‘Commitment’, trans. Francis McDonagh, in Ernst Blochet al.,Aesthetics and
Politics(London: NLB, 1977), 189.