Denise Duhamel is an accomplished poet who, in addition to being a successful teacher of creative writing and literature at the Florida International University, has seen her work published in several prestigious print and online journals and magazines. Despite all her awards, grants, and accolades, Duhamel has not achieved much success reading her poems publicly, especially those featured on YouTube.
Denise Duhamel projects an unwarranted degree of confidence during a YouTube video in which she reads one of her poems, Egg Rolls. With frizzy blonde hair and wearing a black turtleneck, Duhamel introduces her poem in a manner that should be banned from all future literary readings. Note to poets and writers, kindly spare us your tired and facetious introductions. They are almost always full of narcissistic pander and nauseating self-affirmation. It's best to reserve discussion and explanation of the work itself either inside the classroom, or after the presentation among a smaller circle of fans.
Duhamel's free-verse poem Egg Rolls provides a snapshot into Duhamel's days as a starving graduate student living in New York. It's the usual dirty realism fare of eating expired food, holding down menial jobs to make ends meet, and the aches and pains of being impoverished, hungry and full of longing. Of course, the point of the poem is that she "never [feels] so bad for herself really because she [is living and writing] in New York." Sure, why not.
Unfortunately, her work doesn't transfer as well when read. Duhamel's appearance is bland, and her overly emphasized facial gestures remind me of a fussy suburban house-marm attending a reading at a local coffee shop. Duhamel's reading quickly devolves into a droning sing-song and none of the grit and determination contained in her poem comes through. And although the structure of the poem is meant to capture the chaos and spontaneity of life in New York, Duhamel's verbal rendition presents a poem full of rambling run-ons begging for moments of pause and appropriate intonation.
