That's a good way of putting it--it's variations within the form while still essentially being a sonnet.
But take the villanelle, for example. Elizabeth Bishop wrote a poem called "One Art." (Link:
One Art- Poets.org - Poetry, Poems, Bios & More) Some might call it a villanelle, in that it's very similar in structure to, say, Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night." (Link:
Do not go gentle into that good night- Poets.org - Poetry, Poems, Bios & More). But it doesn't follow the "rules" of a villanelle; the last lines of each stanza don't repeat word-for-word exactly the way they're "supposed" to, like they do in Thomas' poem.
So, at what point does "variations on a sonnet" become "no longer a sonnet", or villanelle, or whatever? That's when things get tricky. Like I said in my earlier post, you can call any 14-line poem a sonnet if you want, but let's say it doesn't rhyme, or it's in free verse and just happens to be 14 lines long. Is that, then, a sonnet? It's just like the fact that lots of poems are in iambic pentameter, but they aren't sonnets, because they're too long, for example, or they don't rhyme (which I think is called blank verse, if memory serves).
That's why I think, going back to candid's original post, you can't take definitions in poetry too terribly seriously. There may be certain rules observed by certain writers, but those rules can and ought to be broken. In my opinion, what you're trying to communicate takes precedence over form any day. And while I don't doubt that you can probably learn some things from writing structured poetry, I think it's pretty much a dead art today. I mean, is there really any reason to write sonnets or sestinas or whatever these days, other than as an intellectual exercise, just to see if you can do it?
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