I am really not sure whether I personally
can separate style from substance, even in poetry.
I agree with nihil (sounding of trumpets, beating of drums to mark what may the event of the century) that Kipling is a superb example of compelling style and often disgraceful substance. The Ballad of East and West has little substance, but is a wonderful read. On the Road to Mandalay is sexist and racist, but wonderful poetry. Some of his other poetry is jingoistic, violently racist, and worse, but it is a sheer joy to read aloud.
Another great example is from Ecclesiastes 9:11: "I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all."
Simply put, all that says is "hey, man, shit happens." The substance is mundane. But the style is gorgeous. |
