Essence and similarity

Sitting on a bus today I found myself wondering if you can write anything without being influenced by things that you have read to a greater or lesser extent?  Since starting my series of domestic poems I have been reading Tender Buttons by Gertrude Stein, Species of Spaces and Other Pieces by Georges Perec and Recyclopedia: S*PeRM**K*T, and Muse & Drudge by Harryette Mullen. I had already read quite a bit of Charles Simic and Vasko Popa.  I am not consciously emulating any of these writers in my work, but I do believe that we are (at lease subtly and sometimes more so) influenced by the things that we have read - especially if we find them inspiring - if they speak to us in a language that excites us and that we can relate to.

What is interesting to me is that some of the earlier poems in the domestic object series have a similar sound and feel to some of the pieces in Tender Buttons - and these were the ones that I wrote before I started reading it. This led me to wonder whether there is some innate quality in these inanimate domestic objects that is somehow tapped into and embodied by anyone who tries to tap into the essence of them through writing.  If you try to capture the true essence of an object is it inevitable that there will be some similarity to other work where the writer has tried to do the same thing?  Does this similarity make the work any less valid?

Object Relationships

So today my Friday creative class started again, and in keeping with my current obsession we had a session about domestic and household objects and how they can be used in poetry and prose.  One of the poems we looked at was "Fork" by Charles Simic which drew a mixed reaction form the students.   - one of them described it as being slightly sinister because it seemed to be turning the hand into something  horrible.

I like the possibility that the object can act upon or change its user. Usually we view inanimate objects as being  passive - they are used by us for our own ends. We might change the object but we don't usually expect the object to change us.  It left me wondering do we act on the object or does the object act on us? What if we are changed in some way by picking up and object and using it? Do we become the object or an extension of the object when we pick it up, or does it become part of, or an extension of, us?  And if the object does change us then do we remain changed once we put it down again, and if so how long does the change last for - is it permanent?  What is our relationship to the object? Does it have one with us?