Response to Derek Walcott's "Omeros"

Omeros is, apparently, an epic.  It is an extended poem with elements of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey written in, and it includes many elements that are typically of epic poetry.  The setting for Walcott's poem could be accurately identified as "planet Earth" in both the past and present, a setting which certainly qualifies as "vast,” and it tells, in some sense, the story of a society, perhaps an entire civilization.  In this sense, the epic form is successfully executed in Omeros, yet as a reader of this lengthy, poetic narrative, with its vague presentation of enormous ideas, frequent shifts in narration and geographic location, and ambiguity regarding even the known, physical characters  present, I can’t help but wonder why Walcott chose such a form.

Epic poems are, by nature, difficult for a modern audience.  They are incredibly structured, following conventions often unknown to the modern reader, and the sheer length and complexity of such a narrative is only magnified by its expression in verse rather than prose.  This is not to say that epics have no place in modern literature, but they are certainly a difficult form, perhaps the most difficult form, to write well.  In some sense, I can’t say I think that Walcott has written a good epic, though most would probably disagree given the general acceptance and praise of Omeros within academia.

The purpose of literature, in my opinion, is ultimately communication, and while beauty and literary techniques are certainly important, their main purpose, it seems to me, should be to communicate an idea, an feeling, or a concept to the reader.  Walcott not only chooses to write Omeros in a form somewhat alien to contemporary readers, he crafts a narrative that is incredibly complex and difficult to follow within this form, and he does so in stanzas of only three lines with constant and seemingly pointless enjambment.  Omeros does not flow particularly well, and when it does, the “flow” is essentially monotony.  The poem seems a series of ideas crammed together, a sort of disconnected stream-of-consciousness with shifting narration and location and the occasional comment from the author himself, sometimes related to the writing of the poem.  While Walcott’s ability to sustain such a form for hundreds of pages is impressive, the result in terms of Omeros’ ability to connect with readers is less impressive.  While many may disagree, Walcott’s use of the epic form here seems not only unnecessary, but detrimental, though he has at least managed to join the meager ranks of those who write postmodern epics.