Okay, am I all alone in failing to see the virtues Wells claims for this piece – or for his assessment of the poem for that matter? Wells demonstrates some of the worse vices in modern critics – here, for example, attributing to A.G. Bailey a position on Kilmer’s poem which plainly belongs to Wells, not Bailey (“seems to suggest”? C’mon Zak). Anything to gain entry to a poem without looking at the poem itself.

Wells’ cleverness notwithstanding (“treacle” etc), more than anything the poem is painfully over wrought – an unintended parody that riffs off the traditional sonnet’s quiet, naturally contemplative tone to embrace the burlesque.

Far from being complex, Bailey's "argument" is no argument at all, just a tortured and clumsy collection of neo-classical effects that have no bearing on any tree I've ever seen - or am likely to see.

Actually, one of the worse (sic) vices of modern critics is imprecise use of terminology. In poetry, neo-classical most commonly refers to the 18th C predilections of Pope, Dryden and Dr. Johnson. The latter critic coined the term "metaphysical" to apply to the "painfully over wrought (sic)," perhaps even "tortured and clumsy" conceits of John Donne et al. And it is to the metaphysicals--a term originally intended as an insult--that this poem owes a debt, not to the neo-classicists.

And just as it was hard for people with neo-classical prejudices to appreciate the intricate intelligence of metaphysical conceits, so it is for contemporary readers, whose ears have been dulled by an overdose of plain diction, naturalistic description and prosaic syntax, to appreciate a poet like Bailey (or George Johnston, or Richard Outram), who prefer art with a bit of artifice.

Bailey's goal was not to paint a mimetic likeness of a tree you or I will ever see, any more than Donne intended us to see two lovers as the feet of a compass. You want to see a tree? Look out your window.

I’d be more than pleased to gaze at the wonderful spread of the elm tree outside my window, but for the critic’s insistence upon treeness here in this poem (albeit revised for purposes other than purely botanical). And to the extent that the worst of both neo-classical and metaphysical poetry suffered from excessive artifice (simulated and hard at work here in Bailey’s poem), I think I’ll let my observation stand.

At the same time, I’m sympathetic with the reaction in recent years against overuse of the plain style in poetry and with the desire by some poets to inject much needed vigour into their verses. By all means we need, and thankfully are seeing, a more adventurous, more vibrant use of the English language in Canadian poetry generally these days. But while Bailey’s intent seems to be to shake us up by shaking up the English lexicon, antique phrasing (“Look well upon...”, “heedless of the slurring ground”); hyperbolic word choices (“eternal damp”, “sorrowful ground”); inflated syntax and line padding (e.g. “to hang in all the wordless aisles of air”) seem rather poor substitutes for linguistic vitality and variety.

I take at face value Wells’ enjoyment of Bailey’s rhyme scheme, making only passing mention of his unfortunate pairing of “air” and “fare”. But a final comment, if you please, on Wells’ assertion that Bailey’s rhyme scheme is constructed to ensure “syntactic flow is never sacrificed to structural requirements”. He needn’t have worried. Bailey’s word choices and predications (e.g. “whose wittol root/roams”, “The faceless mold transmutes a slavering brute”) do a more than adequate job of impeding the sonnet’s flow. The grinding overuse of disyllabic and trisyllabic words and of to-infinitives. i.e. “to hang…to trumpet…to lift up...to fashion” add to the poem’s elevated clunkiness to slow the reader even further.

In short, I find it hard to imagine anyone reading this sonnet aloud and not coming away with a case of lock jaw - or fainting from hyperventilation. On the other hand, if the poet’s intent was to mirror the unloveliness of trees by creating an unlovely poem (a slightly more interesting argument) then he has surely succeeded.