What I Like about Rupi Kaur’s Poetry

The most appealing facet of Rupi Kaur’s (R.K henceforth) poetry is its simplicity. Her poems are constructions that convey meaning and intent lucidly without ambiguity. In most instances requiring little effort on part of the reader to decipher her message. For poetry, unlike common prose, tends to come with an element of esotericism. Whilst I am in no way a serious poetry reader, a cursory glance at the works of the Romantics (the category of poets I am most familiar with, and arguably the most famous): the likes of Wordsworth, Keats, and Blake, would reveal that poetry construction is an artful, but also artistically complex enterprise. Where the true meaning, message, and worldview (if any) of the poet, are not immediately, if ever, apparent. Often, even after (depending on the reader’s familiarity with the type of verse in question) careful, multiple readings.

R.K’s writings differ from this norm. There is something very plain, down to earth, and accessible about her body of work.  Notable here are her works dealing with emotional and physical hurt (the vast majority in Milk and Honey), that she engages in a heartfelt but at times-to my mind-graphic manner. For there is a notable absence or, rather purposeful avoidance of subtlety on her part. For this young lady, getting her message across clearly and simply is the foremost aim. Even if that means being a bit crude with her choice of language. Some of which, it must be said, verge on the racy to being downright pornographic, or worse! A notable example is a poem about a man who ill-treats a woman. The specific expression she employs is that of a man who “guts” her. And she reinforces this (already forceful) language by drawing the analogy to the cleaning of a cantaloupe. 

Whilst works such as these (and there are quite a few of them) might be a potential source of unease for certain readers. Especially for those who have been reared (like myself) in more traditional (‘classical’ one could say) poetry: Poems, based on my level of reading, that emerge out of a certain state of mind, a period in history, or a time of political upheaval; that as a result come to espouse a particular ethos. Whose ideas and aims embody, or resonate with a set of beliefs and sentiments. The many strands of thought, variegated and complex or profoundly simple, that poems of old engaged, whilst being different in their own right (e.g. Victorians or Romantics), nonetheless held firm when it came to affirming certain ‘poetic fundamentals’: The art of subtlety and finesse was adhered to when engaging matters that pertained to the human body and soul. Such as not going through the process of describing-in awful detail-the workings of a woman’s anatomy. 

With R.K however, the proverbial ‘gloves’ were apparently never on to start with. There is a purposeful air bluntness that verges on crudity, that characterizes her writings. In one of her works that engages romantic intimacy, the subject of “fingering” is engaged. As for what follows… The reader ought to buy her book and find out for him/herself. (Which makes me wonder. did this book come with an age limit?). Clearly, R.K is not a Platonist or someone who is governed by sensibilities that one would traditionally associate with the feminine. Her idea of femininity comes down to providing an unequivocally female, but not necessarily feminine perspective. For there’s very little that is lady-like in a traditional sense about R.K’s works. Which is to be expected in this day and age. 

Thus it’s a fair conjecture that many “older” or tradition-minded poets, and poetry readers, whose tastes are tethered to, or nostalgic for the achievements of a different era, and/or whose sensibilities are untrained to the language modernity (or post-modernity it seems), are likely to find some (if not most) of R.K works distasteful, to being potentially offensive. The answer to them, I guess would be: ‘We live in a different world’. Not necessarily a more pleasant one. But it is one where the artistic sensibility, however varied (or diminished) is still appreciated’. Despite or because of such occasional  ‘unpleasantness’ R.K’s works are provoking, and at times inspiring. 

From a “technical” standpoint, it is worth mentioning that R.K’s works don’t contain titles. Which makes it difficult for a reader who is intent on deciphering the deeper aims and intent of her works. At one point, during the conversation with Ms. Watson, R.K mentioned that the contents of Milk and Honey are meant to be one single poem. Whilst I had trouble following this line of thought when reading her works; the absence of dedicated titles (though a certain number of her poems did carry “subtitles”) did aid, in some way, the flow of her writing. Whilst I am no expert when it comes to reading poetry, let alone critiquing, this approach at times, worked against her. For there were occasions where I was left wondering who the speaker, listener, and intended audience were, in the respective work.

If one is looking for a description that characterizes the style of R.K’s works, the word that comes to mind is bluntness. When it comes to poetry, every poet is engaged in one central function: The communication of a message, which the poet feels or believes is important to him/her, and to the world that stands to receive it. The differences in the quality, structure, style, impact, and literary significance of the work, ultimately lie in the effectiveness of its articulation. R.K’s works, whilst less constrained by the literary norms that govern the construction of verse (if there are any), are commendable for doing one thing right: being impactful. It is difficult to read R.K’s works and not come away from them feeling something. Simply put, I have never read poetry like hers. Which I reckon counts for something. For good or ill.