When I hear and/or read the word “manifesto”, the first thing that comes to mind is Karl Marx’s and Friedrich Engel’s The Communist Manifesto. To be honest, I’ve never read the whole thing, I tried once and couldn’t get pass the first few pages. Not because I wasn’t interested in their philosophy, but because I felt that it was some kind of unwritten rule to read such a text and I wasn’t interested in following through.
There’s something about concise writing that I truly appreciate—it’s short, precise/straight to the point, and I find it to be accessible for an array of audiences. It’s a way of writing that is not the easiest to master, but those who do possess a precious and valuable skill. That’s why I think I appreciated reading some of the manifesto pieces for today’s class. I mean, to say that I only value the conciseness and skill of the writing is an understatement, there’s definitely more than that, but I guess it’s a start.
The piece that stuck out for me the most was Audre Lorde’s essay “Poetry Is Not a Luxury”. I first read this piece for my queer studies seminar last semester, and I remember it being so powerful as I read through its passages, even for it being only four pages long. I don’t think I ever considered it to be a manifesto of sorts, just an essay in which Lorde advocated for women, especially BIPOC women, to engage in the craft of writing poetry as well as to read it. According to Lorde, poetry is a
vital necessity of our existence. It forms the quality of the light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change, first made into language, then into idea, then into more tangible action. Poetry is the way we help give name to the nameless so it can be thought. The farthest horizons of our hopes and fears are cobbled by our poems, carved from the rock experiences of our daily lives. (37)
Every time I read these lines, I’m compelled to think hard about what they mean both in the surface and on a much deeper level. Perhaps my interpretation may be off, but the way that I read this is that Lorde is encouraging us to truly embrace the beauty, rawness, and depth of poetry. Poetry becomes a way by which we are able to feel, express ourselves, allow each of us to release the inhibitions that have held us back at times. It is how we are able to materialize certain things that only live within our imagination and set them free or, at least, out of the confines of our mind and into the material space of a page.
Moreover, Lorde goes on to state that poetry is “the skeleton architecture of our lives. It lays the foundations for a future of change, a bridge across our fears of what has never been before” (38). Thus, poetry allows us to start putting together those things that tend to constitute a sort of meaning for us and our lives. It connects us, our feelings, thoughts, and even our fears, with other parts of ourselves that we hadn’t bridged over to before. Poetry allows us to be free in a way that no other form of art, of expressing ourselves, could.
I think there is such power in these words and the advocacy/favor of experiencing poetry, not taking it for granted, and acknowledge that it is not, in fact, a luxury. It is work, sentiment, experience, liberation, and even empowerment. In this labor of embracing and fully experiencing poetry, to allow our deepest longings and thoughts to roam free, we are given “the strength and courage to see, to feel, to speak, and to dare” (Lorde 39).
I’m not sure what my aim was with this writing specifically. Initially I wanted to compare and contrast the manifestoes we read to one another, but instead I decided to focus my energy and time here on Lorde’s piece and unpacking what some of its parts mean to me. I deeply admire the essay/manifesto in ways I don’t think I’ve admired a piece of writing before. That is mainly because it advocates for something I’ve struggled to do. To write and immerse myself in poetry as a means to liberate myself and what I keep within me is enormously hard for me—I’m reserved in many ways and tend to bottle up. I understand the value of poetry and the freedom it may allow me if I dedicate the time to it, reading, writing, and fully experiencing it. I’m glad there’s a piece out there that brings this calling to the fore and has inspired many women, especially BIPOCs, to sink their feet in it. While I may still be hesitant to try, I still see, acknowledge, and value its importance and the care it demands and gives back.