Even with all this, I forgot something
Billy--we know they're not in Japan (or, at least, probably are not) bc her name is Susie. Or else I'm missing something . . .
Tiger the Lion,
Below are a proofer's edit (mainly that the song title needs a comma in the middle), and a copy edit (mainly that your verb tenses create a kind of constructive gridlock), and normally I'd put the macro beneath those, but I think here the macro should go up top. Why? Because I'm super mad at you! (hahaha)
From here to forever, I'm adopting this as a new top-five rule: names in poems should be handled with all the caution of uranium in a teacup.
I have this wonderful breakdown of the narrative of the poem, but it's going to fail at the discussion if the name Susie, which is both this poem's Achilles heel and its biggest missed opportunity.
So. Here goes.
Macro:
More than any poem I've read on pigpen, this one has unrealized emotional kaboom. I don't think any other crits caught it (which makes me think maybe you didn't either?). And to explain what "it" is, I'm going to have to define love itself!
You know . . . kinda.
This poem may be the most compact, idiosyncratic, and potent meet cute I've ever read. A meet cute is a (largely American) screenwriting term of art. It's the moment in a a story where the guy and the girl realize their romantic chemistry.
To me, the best meet cutes encompass all aspects of Sternberg's triangular theory of love. What the hell am I talking about? Sternberg's definition of romantic love, to me, remains the most useful model that's ever been proposed.
The triangular theory says love has three parts: passion, intimacy, and commitment. I think the chronological iteration is the easiest entry point.
Intimacy is secrets; it's personal revelation, shared experiences, and confessions; it's the past. Passion is sensation; it's the increasing intensity of a moment, the visceral feeling of falling, and everything sexual; it's the present. Commitment is consensual trajectory; it's stated and unstated agreement, hopes and dreams, and differential role assumption; it's the future.
This poem is nothing but those three things. Every word of every line. But to get there, the reader has to dig and dig and dig. My challenge to you is this: surface the triangular elements while maintaining the almost rugged narrative you've established.
So, here's the narrative.
The pin in this wonderful grenade is line 3: "you kept leaning forward". The word "milky" on the next line is more than enough to credence the obvious: the woman is leaning forward so the man can look down her shirt. Without this line, it's just a guy gawking. But this line establishes mutual passion. She's seducing him.
The second most important part of the poem is the possessive apostrophe in the title. For a song to be "her song" (yes, yes--Susie's) means there's a future here. This is the narrator's commitment.
The third most important part of the poem is the word "those". Given the colloquial register of the poem, plus the word "you" starting the next line, we know that the poem is actually *narrated by the guy to the girl about their formative moments.* This is intimacy.
Cool. So far, we have all the elements of a solid meet cute AND the knowledge that the meet cute precipitates a long-term relationship.
That's an AMAZING first four lines.
BUT the elements that get us there are so subtle that everybody missed them.
So this is my first suggestion: Make them more legible.
But then there are these extra facts that really slap the thing out of the park. Because the girl who keeps leaning forward isn't Italian or Brazilian or French--she's Japanese. She's from a reserved culture. For her to be making these seductive moves will almost certainly create in her a strong feeling of sensual vulnerability.
And she's not just Japanese, she's native Japanese. And he's not. He's almost certainly a Westerner. That's a committal vulnerability given the classically insular mainland Japanese social structure. How much would she have to give up to make a go of it with this guy?
And he's not just a Westerner. He's a Westerner who doesn't speak Japanese. There's no guarantee that he'll ever learn it. There's no guarantee that she'll become fluent in English. There's no guarantee of shared secrets. That's an intimate vulnerability.
This girl is risking wounds on all three romantic fronts.
And why?
Seriously.
Why?
--The poem doesn't say!-- Somehow, the Japanese expat and the local boy have ended up falling in love over an everyday card game, despite the social, cultural, and language barriers, while sitting in awful chairs.
PLUS there's a Beatles song! Wtf else do you want from a poem??? It's perfect--needs to be goosed up some, but that's all in a day's work for a poet, right?
Then, the whole thing falls apart.
Because however long they've been together, he still doesn't know her name. It's Mikoto or Amaterasu or Noriko. "Susie" is her assumed Western name. Maybe there's a Suzume. But there's no "Susie," so there's no Susie's song.
The poem resolves with a chauvinistic note that Susie speaks gibberish in perfect English. And that's why I'm mad. She goes from a complex character with lots at stake to some girl-looking parrot. And the "you" may as well be the narrator talking to himself.
You gotta fix it! I can't live in a world where it ends like that! Just one more line where he learns her real name or something!
So, the macro challenges are these: (1) foreground the narrative such that it's more apparent and (2) change the ending so that it makes me happy
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Note: some of the marks below clash with the notes above. That's because, if you reject the notes above, the marks below become imoortant.
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Proofer's edit:
Susie's Song
[delete the extra space]
we were playing a card game
[sitting] in those awful plastic chairs
--for parallelism. optional, given the style, here
you kept leaning forward in yours
splashing all that Japanese milky wonder
in[to] my eyes
--unless you say "into," you've declared your narrator to be Japanese
----as written, the clause reads, "splashing all that Japanese milky wonder that is in my eyes"
------this wouldn't be a problem EXCEPT "milky wonder" is either Susie's body part or the narrator's. May as well be the narrator's for all I know
I'd put some Beatles on a loop
--I'd highly recommend against the contraction, here. It's unclear if you mean "I could," "I would," "I should," or "I had," and that lack of clarity slows the read way down. I think just say "I put"
--you can get away with "on a loop," but it's inferior to "on loop" or "on repeat"
figuring they were universal
--"were" is inferior to "are"
you clapped
--consider "and you clapped"
and bobbed your head
shouting ["][o]b-la-di[, ]ob-la-da["]
in perfect English
Copy edit:
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First, a note on tenses.
Because your first verb is imperfect, you end up with verb-parsing problems throughout.
Compare the following, which uses the same tenses in the same sequence as you do in "Susie's Song":
Susie's Song Verbs
We were walking.
Ran over.
You kept jumping
pushing away.
I'd trip,
looking up.
You skipped and
turned around,
sticking out your foot.
See how that's hard to parse? It has a disorienting effect which is hostile to your narrative, in which the narrator's clear orientation seems to drive events. And here's the question: was the narrator tripped by the other person? In this rendition, it's undetermined.
Contrast the following, which opens in the present progressive:
Susie's Song Verbs
We are walking.
Running over.
You keep jumping,
pushing away.
I've tripped,
looking up.
You've skipped and
turned around and
are sticking out your foot.
Notice that this second version is still confusing, but it's much more coherent. Was the narrator tripped by the second person? No. (Note: that answer is true for "I have," "I could have," "I would have," and "I should have.")
In your original, "I had" seems right at first, BUT if it's "I had," then the Beatles song started before the card game. That seems goofy. So now "had" is out, and I'm left with "should," "could," or "would," all of which seem like bad fits, too.
See the problem?
If the initial verb tense had been present, none of these construction issues would pop up.
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On w the copy edit:
Susie's Song
we were [playing cards]
--"a" is understood; "game" is redundant
sat in those awful plastic chairs
--big missed opportunity, here
----"those" is flaccid. First, "those" isn't necessarily understood, but it's damn close. Second, if it were "my," "your," "his," etc., it would advance the narrative. Third, it's confusing bc "those" implies a "these." We sat in *those* crummy chairs because *these* were even worse. Otw, you'd just say "the."
------now, "those" does contribute to the casual tone, but it does so EXACTLY BECAUSE it's a throw-away word. Hit harder!
you kept leaning forward in yours
splashing all that Japanese milky wonder
in my eyes
I'd put some Beatles on a loop
figuring they were universal
you clapped
and bobbed your head
shouting 'Ob-la-di-ob-la-da'
in perfect English
--Sorry I ran out of steam for the micro copy-edit of your second stanza
I know I've already said lots of stuff about everything, but I hate leaving a thing unfinished. Let me know if you need me to finish, and after I've had some sleep, I'll do it
Great work!
crow
