“Do you know, I have heard people describe olives as nasty! . . . I have often thought, Salisbury, that I could write genuine poetry under the influence of olives and red wine.”
~Mr. Dyson, from The Inmost Light, (1894) by Arthur Machen
Editor Salisbury, who primarily copyedits prose, asked her professional support group if she should take on a prospective job for a poetry collection. She had never edited poetry before and wondered if it was more ethical to decline the project. The main reason she thought she might be competent as a poetry book editor is that she studied poetry in college and had written some poetry, too.
Her peers were divided over the matter; some urged that she turn down the contract, while most of the rest buoyed Editor Salisbury with suggestions that assured her that if she worked closely with the poet, she could do a fair job. Several comforted her by saying they would take on such a project, if asked, even though they, too, had never edited poetry before. As I was the only editor in the group who specialized in editing poetry, I had a different outlook from most everybody else.
You may be wondering yourself, now, how editing prose, either of the fictional or non-fictional type, is the same or different from editing poetry. I think I’ll ask another member of Editor Salisbury’s group, a copyeditor (and poet), how it’s similar — Mr. Dyson?
In copyediting, 3 basic mechanics of language — punctuation, spelling, and grammar — are usually handled by applying standardizations. Consistency of these functions is what makes diction understandable. Clarity comes about in reading due to regulated editing of these parts of language, which remain practically independent of an author’s intended category, genre, and style — unless, of course, that author employs a literary device within a piece of writing meant to warp one or more of these 3 literary functions.
When a copyediting job consists of correcting for only these standards, in other words, most trained copyeditors will be sufficient, despite the category of writing.
But what happens when a poetry manuscript needs more than basic copyediting? What if developmental and substantive editing are needed, Mr. Dyson?
Once the functional mechanics of language have been scanned in a manuscript,the differences between prose and poetry show up to an editor almost immediately. Used more liberally in poetry than prose, there is another set of specific mechanics called “Figures” — whole tables of figures of speech — with which a poetry editor should be acquainted. Add to that, at least, a nodding awareness of a list of poetic forms and practices. Schools and philosophies, too, for that matter.
And not only should a poetry editor work closely with the poet to determine intent, the editor must also be able to determine whether that poet is too close to the work to truly impart intent through that work. How will a fledgling poetry editor ascertain this, if trusting the poet to do all the guiding?
So, what did I say to Editor Salisbury? My advice was similar to Mr. Dyson’s. An editor should be acquainted. Would Editor Salisbury’s college, poetry-reading courses prepare her for editing poetry? Possibly. More so than an editor with no education in poetry. Would she be the best editor for her prospective client? Probably not. However, if Editor Salisbury’s client was familiar with and drawn to the editor’s personal poetry, the client might be able to expect an empathetic collaboration. Sometimes, that’s exactly what a client wants from the editorial experience. Whether it’s the best thing for the manuscript or not.
If you choose your editor wisely, you’ll get one with both experience and empathy. And perhaps some olives and red wine.