One of the poets who's vaguely (very vaguely) associated with the
French symbolist movement, Guillaume Apollinaire, had a rather different
approach to trench poetry. (He died at the end of the war, from a
combination of wounds and influenza.) He, unlike many trench poets, was a
professional writer very much at the forefront of technical
experimentation. Like Mallarmé (that most symbolist of symbolists), he
was fascinated by the materiality of language, by the question of what
new horizons are opened to poetry by the fact that it's now something
primarily encountered on the page. That's a change tacitly recognized by
the development of free verse, in which line breaks become something
seen more than heard. But he really pushes the limits of the "poetry as
visual art" in his Calligrammes, in which he's playing with
spatial relationships of words and the possibility of reading poems
along multiple axes: usually there is one "direction" you can follow in
order to get a fairly grammatically cohesive poem, but the mid-word
line breaks or alignments of grammatically-separated words spatially
side-by-side compels the reader to consider every element constituting
the poem with renewed attention. It's certainly--though I've by no means
devoted much attention to Apollinaire's work--another way of being
"difficult" in the Modernist sense. The poems that directly refer to the
war, such as the ones below (really, most of Calligrammes) also
feature that secondary type of difficulty associated with the
"derangement of the senses" (as Rimbaud would have put it) and
disillusionment with a government that seems less sympathetic than the allemand in the opposing trenches.
Incidentally,
Guillaume Apollinaire lived in Belgium for a while as a young man.
Long enough to master the Wallonian dialect and write a few poems in
it. Rather neat.
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