Dirge to Autumn

During National Poetry Month, I signed up for the Academy of American Poets' "Poem-a-Day" service, and as a result they keep mailing me interesting tidbits from the wonderful world of poetry. Though, sometimes, the stuff they highlight isn't all that wonderful. I am, for example, still waiting for someone to fill me in on M. NourbeSe Philip's effort (I'm not even going to call it a poem - I'm not sure what it is).

Anyhow, what got my goat recently was American poet Stanley Plumly reading "Ode to Autumn" by John Keats - he turns it into a dirge. The delivery is so slow and ponderous it makes the poem sound like a lament. It's an ode, FGS! Keats wrote it to praise autumn not to bury it.

What is it with some poets that they feel they have to put on some kind of slow, somber "poetry voice" when they read stuff? It drives me mad. Really, I'm tempted to do a podcast of "Ode to Autumn" myself just to illustrate the joy in Keats' lines.

Mind you, I suppose I should be grateful Plumly didn't attempt "Ode to a Nightingale". Just the thought makes me shudder.

Update
My mistake: I'm informed that Stanley Plumly isn't putting on a special voice to read that poem - that's just the way he speaks. Fine, but my point remains - it's not really the way Keats should be read, (IMHO).

Update
Also from Stanley Plumly: "The Posthumous Keats: A personal biography". Ron Slate's review at On the Seawall quotes from the preface to provide a context (and some justification) for Plumly's presentation of "To Autumn".