How YouTube helps revive (or in some cases, discourage) page poetry

Tom O'Bedlam Vs. Pearls of Wisdom

As an itinerant and amateur futurist who suffers from episodic spasms of paranoid delight when imagining the near dystopian possibilities of human existence, it is imperative I take pause and acknowledge some of the benefits of post-industrial modernity. After all, we've not yet reached that point in time when prospective parents, their bioluminescent glazed eyes scanning information projected from nano-processors embedded within the folds of their brains, discuss without moral hazard the specific traits of appearance, habit and intellect they'll instruct an obstetrician to genetically engineer for their future children.

The social practice of sharing and disseminating literary works has always been disrupted by historical events and advances in technology, the most obvious example being Gutenberg's printing press. Today, it's YouTube.

I've been slow to peruse YouTube for those video posts that demonstrate genuine artistic merit. I've never been one to ogle into the private lives of individuals sharing their first guitar strum or the aspiring pundit offering a personal rant about some celebrity or political figure. Added to these examples of quaint domestic communication, the footage, especially during the early days of YouTube, was always grainy webcam or more recently, shaky phone cam. Clearly, this is no longer the case, as the scope and range of YouTube includes high resolution live streaming video that can be utilized for a whole host of purposes.

Boasting nearly 16,000 subscribers and more than 9 million video views, SpokenVerse by Tom O'Bedlam is a YouTube channel focused on poetry readings. This is not a channel either showcasing the often exaggerated theatrics of slam poetry or the falsely intoned ramblings of novice poets as can be found in almost any local coffee shop, but Tom O'Bedlam's vocal interpretation of the classical canon of international poetry. It is his voice, and his voice alone that can be heard reading any number of poems.

Tom O'Bedlam is an excellent reader, his voice is at once grave and gruff, and lends itself particularly well to older poetry. I was instantly captivated by his reading of John Keats' "When I have Fears That I May Cease to Be." What I appreciate most is O'Bedlam's insistence on not presenting himself before the camera, allowing the listener to bask exclusively in the aural experience of the reading. This is not to say O'Bedlam leaves his channel visually bare. While reading Keats' poem, O'Bedlam offers an introductory portrait of Keats, followed by related images that fade in and out against the written verse as background. O'Bedlam also takes care to properly cite the source of all his images, be they a picture of a constellation of stars or an artwork of pen and ink. The commentary field too is full of pithy exchanges, and O'Bedlam's occasional offer of social commentary on a topic covered in a poem is consistently thoughtful and well-written.


O'Bedlam's collection of classical poetry is vast, ranging from Ezra Pound, Ted Hughes, and Sylvia Plath to Pablo Neruda, Charles Bukowski and Roald Dahl. Additionally, if the viewer is interested in the works of a particular poet not readily appearing in O'Bedlam's playlist, there is a search box for one's convenience. In short, Tom O'Bedlam (and those whose channels I've yet to discover) helps revive page poetry from the confines of the bulky anthology typically reserved for college students.

In marked contrast to Tom O'Bedlam is Pearls of Wisdom, another YouTube channel featuring the voice of a single author (whose name is not mentioned) reading from the canon of international poetry. This channel proves the maxim, first appearances can be deceiving. Although beautifully bordered with the profiles of several poets, the quality of the readings is so shockingly terrible as to risk leaving most listeners with a profound and lasting distaste for poetry. Regardless of the poet or content read, the author's voice consistently warbles and modulates a tinny sing-song. Take for example her reading of Allen Ginsberg's "The Ballad of the Skeletons", an insipid interpretation characterized only in its habit of ending each verse with rising intonation. In fact, all of the poems I sampled are treated the same vocally. Stresses are at best seldom appropriate, and the timbre of her voice eviscerates and neuters almost all depth of intended meaning to be found in a poem.


Pearls of Wisdom is also fond of editing the beginning of its readings with an array of garish garden imagery that fades when presenting the word of each verse as they are read. For prospective slam poets and students of theatre interested in listening to examples of how not to read poetry, then perhaps Pearls of Wisdom remains of some use and import. Otherwise, this channel is definitely a pass.