Women
Jamelah Reads the Classics: The Book of Margery Kempe
by Jamelah Earle on Monday, April 17, 2006 07:01 pmEveryone loves a nutcase. This is, of course, why the modern media can't get enough of crazy Tom Cruise and his couch-jumping, placenta-eating antics. This may also be why I finished reading The Book of Margery Kempe. In fact, that's definitely why I finished reading The Book of Margery Kempe. It was fascinating to watch the crazy unfold like, um, a large, unfolding, crazy thing. Here's the deal:
The Book of Margery Kempe is the oldest extant autobiography in English, though it differs from autobiography in the sense that Margery Kempe, who was illiterate, dictated her book to a priest. She also never refers to herself in the first person, instead choosing "the said creature" to refer to herself. This may or may not be interesting from a literary standpoint, but it sure is annoying to read after awhile. Because referring to oneself in the third person? Irritating. Anyway, Margery Kempe was born to a respectable family in 1373 and married at the age of 20. After the birth of her first child, she experiences a break with reality that would today be considered as postpartum psychosis (though Tom Cruise would say she just needed some vitamins -- I'll stop referring to Tom Cruise, I swear), and has her first vision of Jesus. This vision causes Margery to calm down and return to normal. Later in life, after she has given birth to 13 other children (bringing her grand total to 14, in case you wanted to keep track), she feels persuaded by God to devote herself fully to him, and live a life of chastity, convincing her husband to have a chaste marriage:
That's harsh, Margery. Harsh. Of course, devotion to Christ aside (and regardless of religious hang-ups about sex being nasty), I have to say that this is really pretty smooth. I mean, after giving birth to 14 children, I might consider a chaste marriage too. I'm just saying.
Anyway, Margery's devotion to Jesus grows, and she hears the voice of God telling her all sorts of things. She goes on pilgrimmages to several holy places -- Jerusalem, Rome, Santiago de Compostela -- and manages to get on the nerves of many, many people because she has a gift. What gift? The gift of tears, that's what. Of course, it's not really the gift of tears so much as it's the gift of making a complete spectacle out of herself, but whatever, you know. Details. Had I come up with this idea before I'd already read more than 200 pages of The Book, I would've counted the number of times I read something like this:
But what of The Book of Margery Kempe itself? Well, Margery seemed to imagine herself as a Christian mystic in the mold of Julian of Norwich or St. Bridget of Sweden. Though I've never read anything by the latter, I did read excerpts from the work of the former for an English class once upon a time, and though I'm not well-versed in Christian mysticism as a whole, I think that where Margery Kempe differs from the likes of Julian of Norwich is that Julian's Revelations are about God, whereas Margery's mystic experiences seem to be all about her. It's perhaps telling that Margery says one of her sins prior to turning to a life devoted to Christ was that of vanity, and her spirituality manifests itself in loud weeping, causing everyone to be, as she would say, astonished at her. It's also telling that Jesus is constantly telling Margery how great he thinks she is, instead of it being the other way around, which I think would perhaps be more fitting to one who is overcome with love for God. But maybe I've got that wrong. In any case, Margery Kempe's Book is interesting not so much for the reasons Margery herself thought it was, but because it offers a glimpse into the life of a Medieval woman who, crazy or not, tried to live a life of faith despite many difficulties. In that respect, it's valuable, though not exactly a joy to read, except for that whole insane angle. Because, like I said, everyone loves a nutcase. Margery Kempe definitely fits the bill.
The Book of Margery Kempe is the oldest extant autobiography in English, though it differs from autobiography in the sense that Margery Kempe, who was illiterate, dictated her book to a priest. She also never refers to herself in the first person, instead choosing "the said creature" to refer to herself. This may or may not be interesting from a literary standpoint, but it sure is annoying to read after awhile. Because referring to oneself in the third person? Irritating. Anyway, Margery Kempe was born to a respectable family in 1373 and married at the age of 20. After the birth of her first child, she experiences a break with reality that would today be considered as postpartum psychosis (though Tom Cruise would say she just needed some vitamins -- I'll stop referring to Tom Cruise, I swear), and has her first vision of Jesus. This vision causes Margery to calm down and return to normal. Later in life, after she has given birth to 13 other children (bringing her grand total to 14, in case you wanted to keep track), she feels persuaded by God to devote herself fully to him, and live a life of chastity, convincing her husband to have a chaste marriage:
"Margery, if there came a man with a sword who would strike off my head unless I made love with you as I used to do before, tell me on your conscience -- for you say you will not lie -- whether you would allow my head to be cut off, or else allow me to make love with you again, as I did at one time?"
"Alas, sir," she said, "why are you raising this matter, when we have been chaste for these past eight weeks?"
"Because I want to know the truth of your heart."
And then she said with great sorrow, "Truly, I would rather see you being killed, than that we should turn back to our uncleanness."
And he replied, "You are no good wife."
That's harsh, Margery. Harsh. Of course, devotion to Christ aside (and regardless of religious hang-ups about sex being nasty), I have to say that this is really pretty smooth. I mean, after giving birth to 14 children, I might consider a chaste marriage too. I'm just saying.
Anyway, Margery's devotion to Jesus grows, and she hears the voice of God telling her all sorts of things. She goes on pilgrimmages to several holy places -- Jerusalem, Rome, Santiago de Compostela -- and manages to get on the nerves of many, many people because she has a gift. What gift? The gift of tears, that's what. Of course, it's not really the gift of tears so much as it's the gift of making a complete spectacle out of herself, but whatever, you know. Details. Had I come up with this idea before I'd already read more than 200 pages of The Book, I would've counted the number of times I read something like this:
"When she beheld this sight in her soul, she fell down in the field among the people. She cried, she roared, she wept as though she would have burst. She could not control herself or master herself, but cried and roared so that many people were astonished at her."Since I didn't count, however, the best estimate I can give you is that I read something like that way too many times. And I don't know about you, but I had less sympathy for Margery and more sympathy for the people around her, who often tried to be kind, but sometimes had to get away from her because they just couldn't deal anymore. An example of this would've been when, on her pilgrimmage to Jerusalem, her traveling companions told her to leave them alone (and even her personal maid wouldn't have anything to do with her) because she was annoying. Of course, she saw it as them not understanding her or her love of God, but then, crazy people usually don't know that they are complete and utter basket cases.
But what of The Book of Margery Kempe itself? Well, Margery seemed to imagine herself as a Christian mystic in the mold of Julian of Norwich or St. Bridget of Sweden. Though I've never read anything by the latter, I did read excerpts from the work of the former for an English class once upon a time, and though I'm not well-versed in Christian mysticism as a whole, I think that where Margery Kempe differs from the likes of Julian of Norwich is that Julian's Revelations are about God, whereas Margery's mystic experiences seem to be all about her. It's perhaps telling that Margery says one of her sins prior to turning to a life devoted to Christ was that of vanity, and her spirituality manifests itself in loud weeping, causing everyone to be, as she would say, astonished at her. It's also telling that Jesus is constantly telling Margery how great he thinks she is, instead of it being the other way around, which I think would perhaps be more fitting to one who is overcome with love for God. But maybe I've got that wrong. In any case, Margery Kempe's Book is interesting not so much for the reasons Margery herself thought it was, but because it offers a glimpse into the life of a Medieval woman who, crazy or not, tried to live a life of faith despite many difficulties. In that respect, it's valuable, though not exactly a joy to read, except for that whole insane angle. Because, like I said, everyone loves a nutcase. Margery Kempe definitely fits the bill.
Jamelah Reads the Classics: Chick Lit Edition
by Jamelah Earle on Tuesday, March 28, 2006 06:36 amWith March winding to a close, I thought now would be a good time to announce my new reading list for the next installment of Jamelah Reads the Classics. Perhaps you noticed that my last group contained the work of only one woman (Jane Austen), or perhaps you didn't. In either case, it's true, and to make up for the oversight, this next round entirely consists of work by female writers. It is Women's History Month, after all, and while I know that there's less than a week left to it, I don't see that as a reason not to stretch out my exploration of the literary output of women from years past beyond the bounds of March. This may be because much of the work on this list has been relegated to dusty library shelves and specialized upper-level English courses and should really get out more, or it could just be that I've been thinking about it for awhile and I have a tendency to procrastinate. I'll never tell.
Anyway, in compiling my reading list, I tried to choose work that has historical and literary significance, so I'm not going to be covering things like The Devil Wears Prada. Instead, I'll be focusing on important works starting with the earliest extant autobiography in English and winding up with a two-part Bront
Anyway, in compiling my reading list, I tried to choose work that has historical and literary significance, so I'm not going to be covering things like The Devil Wears Prada. Instead, I'll be focusing on important works starting with the earliest extant autobiography in English and winding up with a two-part Bront
The Mary Shelley Story
by Bill Ectric on Monday, December 12, 2005 10:16 am
Mary Shelley was born Mary Godwin in London, England on August 30, 1797 to remarkable parents. Her mother, Mary Wollstonecraft, a feminist when feminism was almost unheard of, wrote A Vindication of the Rights of Women in 1792. Her father, William Godwin, a well-known critic of the British government and the founder of modern philosophical anarchism, wrote An Enquiry Concerning Political Justice in 1793. Sadly, eleven days after Mary was born, her mother died of puerperal fever, leaving William Godwin to raise Mary and her older half-sister, Fanny.
Mary's father believed in the progressive type of education prescribed by philosophers like Rousseau, which emphasized experience over book-learning. He took Mary and Fanny on trips to different places and often invited writers, philosophers, and scientists to his house. These guests included Charles Lamb, William Wordsworth, Humphry Davy, and Samuel Taylor Coleridge. One night Mary got to hear Coleridge recite his poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner to a roomful of guests. Mary was writing her own stories by the time she was ten years old.
Jamelah Reads the Classics: Mansfield Park
by Jamelah Earle on Wednesday, November 9, 2005 03:12 pmLove, scandal, poor relations, a comment on slavery and a marriage between first cousins: all the makings for an episode of Oprah? Perhaps, but in this case, they're the elements of Mansfield Park, one of Jane Austen's more troubling novels, which happens to be the subject of my latest classic literature review. Funny how that all works out. So here we are. Let's get this show on the road.
Eileen Myles: Perfecting the Art of Telling the Truth
by ncfeminist on Monday, April 5, 2004 09:24 amEileen Myles is a feminist, beat, punk poet and it is no surprise that she was befriended by Allen Ginsberg upon her arrival in New York City in the mid-seventies, giving her first reading at CBGB's in 1974. Her first book of poetry, The Irony of the Leash was published in 1978. Like Michelle Tea, Myles grew up working-class, lesbian, and well-read in Massachusetts. Somewhere along the way, she fell under the mentorship of poets like Robert Creeley and James Schuyler. Myles cites them as some of the reason that much of her writing often takes on somewhat of a masculine tone. However, she has always identified as a lesbian poet and uses her poetry and writing in other genres to constantly question our conventional ideas about gender and even about poetry itself. She is the author of one novel, ten volumes of poetry, one short story collection, and the co-editor of a collection of lesbian short fiction entitled The New Fuck You: Adventures in Lesbian Reading. Her writing (including art criticism) has frequently appeared in the Village Voice, The Nation, The Stranger, Art in America, Book Forum and in the late nineties she was part of the touring feminist poetry collective Sister Spit. She is also the former Artistic Director of St. Mark's Poetry project and the current director of the Creative Writing Program at UC San Diego. In the midst of all of that, she even mounted an inventive campaign for president of the United States in the 1992 election.
Living in the ’80s and Beyond: Tama Janowitz
by Andeh on Thursday, October 9, 2003 10:14 pm"Abby, don't do it. In the old days, marriages were arranged by the parents, and maybe you ended up with a jerk but at least you had the security of marriage, no one would dump you out on the street. In today's world, it's the slave system. If you live with this guy in New York, you'll be the slave" -Eleanor, of Slaves of New York
Tama Janowitz was born in 1957 in San Francisco, California. She was the daughter of a pysychiatrist father and a poet and literature professor mother. Tama's parents divorced when she was 10 and she was then raised by her mother. She had an interesting childhood and traveled to Israel. She later graduated from Barnard College in New York, where she majored in Creative Writing.
Janowitz published her first novel in 1981, titled American Dad. This achieved a bit of critical success. Following the release of this novel, she wrote four more novels which were rejected. The author then decided to approach writing from a different angle. She decided to write a collection of short stories. She called this collection Slaves of New York. This book, published in 1986, won her almost instant fame and qualified her as an '80s "it" girl author of sorts. Slaves of New York was a book of short stories focusing on artists, prostitutes and other city dwellers. This book was thought to be somewhat biographical, based on the author's experiences of living in the artistic world and Soho area of New York City in the 1980s.
The success of Slaves of New York put Janowitz in a certain class of authors who had written popular fiction set in 1980s-era city life. This group also included Bret Easton Ellis and Jay McInerney.
Janowitz became a bit of a staple on the New York City nightlife scene in the 1980s, befriending and partying around the likes of Andy Warhol. Slaves of New York was even turned into a 1989 movie; although the plot of the movie was a bit different and paled in comparison to the greatness of the book.
Janowitz' career as an author continued with several novels, including A Cannibal in Manhattan(1987), The Male Cross-Dresser Support Group(1991), and By the Shores of the Gitchee Gumee(1996). However, these novels were recieved in a critical backlash, compared to the greater success of Slaves of New York. Nonetheless, these novels had retained Janowitz' unique flair for describing New York City life or, indeed, life in general, from an innocent bystander's viewpoint. I personally think that all of Janowitz' novels up to the Male Cross Dresser Support Group captured the verve of New York City life best and unlike any other author that I have read who wrote about such a subject. I knew that Janowitz would bounce back, critically speaking, with an awesome book and many of her fans indeed remained.
After the critical backlash of Janowitz' second through fourth books died down, the author took some time off to focus upon creative renewal, family, and perhaps to take a break before getting inspiration for further writing. I imagine that many fans of her writing, and indeed many literary critics, were wondering 'what had happened to Tama Janowitz?' Would she ever write another book that was as "good" as Slaves of New York?
Tama came back onto the literary scene in 1999, with a novel called A Certain Age. Even before it was published, various parts of the literary publishing community had been excitedly comparing it to the earlier novel, Slaves of New York. However, A Certain Age is a more mature offer from Janowitz and contains a different plot and subject line than Slaves did. A Certain Age is about the character of a 32-year old woman, who is on a search for a rich husband, in both New York City and the Hamptons, during one summer. As a fan, I would say that while Slaves of New York had a decidedly 20-something feel to it, A Certain Age had a decidedly 30-something feel to it. In any instance, Janowitz' books can be read at almost any age; starting with the "young adult" age. I started reading her novels as a young teenager.
She has recently also written another novel in 2003 called Peyton Amberg. This is another novel which is different from Slaves, and touches on Janowitz' ever creative but also further maturing type of writing style.
No matter what comes, Tama Janowitz will remain in the hearts of many as an important author of city life -- namely New York City life. I cannot think of any author who has taken her place in this respect since. And, honestly, I do not want anybody to.
Today, Tama Janowitz lives in Brooklyn with her husband and her daughter.
Tama Janowitz was born in 1957 in San Francisco, California. She was the daughter of a pysychiatrist father and a poet and literature professor mother. Tama's parents divorced when she was 10 and she was then raised by her mother. She had an interesting childhood and traveled to Israel. She later graduated from Barnard College in New York, where she majored in Creative Writing.
Janowitz published her first novel in 1981, titled American Dad. This achieved a bit of critical success. Following the release of this novel, she wrote four more novels which were rejected. The author then decided to approach writing from a different angle. She decided to write a collection of short stories. She called this collection Slaves of New York. This book, published in 1986, won her almost instant fame and qualified her as an '80s "it" girl author of sorts. Slaves of New York was a book of short stories focusing on artists, prostitutes and other city dwellers. This book was thought to be somewhat biographical, based on the author's experiences of living in the artistic world and Soho area of New York City in the 1980s.
The success of Slaves of New York put Janowitz in a certain class of authors who had written popular fiction set in 1980s-era city life. This group also included Bret Easton Ellis and Jay McInerney.
Janowitz became a bit of a staple on the New York City nightlife scene in the 1980s, befriending and partying around the likes of Andy Warhol. Slaves of New York was even turned into a 1989 movie; although the plot of the movie was a bit different and paled in comparison to the greatness of the book.
Janowitz' career as an author continued with several novels, including A Cannibal in Manhattan(1987), The Male Cross-Dresser Support Group(1991), and By the Shores of the Gitchee Gumee(1996). However, these novels were recieved in a critical backlash, compared to the greater success of Slaves of New York. Nonetheless, these novels had retained Janowitz' unique flair for describing New York City life or, indeed, life in general, from an innocent bystander's viewpoint. I personally think that all of Janowitz' novels up to the Male Cross Dresser Support Group captured the verve of New York City life best and unlike any other author that I have read who wrote about such a subject. I knew that Janowitz would bounce back, critically speaking, with an awesome book and many of her fans indeed remained.
After the critical backlash of Janowitz' second through fourth books died down, the author took some time off to focus upon creative renewal, family, and perhaps to take a break before getting inspiration for further writing. I imagine that many fans of her writing, and indeed many literary critics, were wondering 'what had happened to Tama Janowitz?' Would she ever write another book that was as "good" as Slaves of New York?
Tama came back onto the literary scene in 1999, with a novel called A Certain Age. Even before it was published, various parts of the literary publishing community had been excitedly comparing it to the earlier novel, Slaves of New York. However, A Certain Age is a more mature offer from Janowitz and contains a different plot and subject line than Slaves did. A Certain Age is about the character of a 32-year old woman, who is on a search for a rich husband, in both New York City and the Hamptons, during one summer. As a fan, I would say that while Slaves of New York had a decidedly 20-something feel to it, A Certain Age had a decidedly 30-something feel to it. In any instance, Janowitz' books can be read at almost any age; starting with the "young adult" age. I started reading her novels as a young teenager.
She has recently also written another novel in 2003 called Peyton Amberg. This is another novel which is different from Slaves, and touches on Janowitz' ever creative but also further maturing type of writing style.
No matter what comes, Tama Janowitz will remain in the hearts of many as an important author of city life -- namely New York City life. I cannot think of any author who has taken her place in this respect since. And, honestly, I do not want anybody to.
Today, Tama Janowitz lives in Brooklyn with her husband and her daughter.
Gwendolyn Brooks
by Caryn Thurman on Saturday, June 7, 2003 01:33 pmPoet Gwendolyn Brooks (1917-2000) was born on June 7th in Topeka, Kansas. Brooks' family moved to Chicago when she was very young and she remained there for much of her life, later becoming a frequent contributor to local and regional publications and programs. She was chosen as the Illinois Poet Laureate in 1948 and was the first African-American writer to win a Pulitzer Prize.
Brooks began writing poetry at an early age and was first published at age 13. She would go on to write more than twenty books of poetry as well as other books, such as her novel, Maud Martha a look at racial and ethnic identity's impact on day-to-day life. Brooks frequently incorporated her experiences and observations of minority urban life in her poetry as well, as in this well-known poem:
Throughout her life, Gwendolyn Brooks' work and career was subject to much debate, including the question: did she sacrifice content and style for political statement? Reading through her work answers with a resounding "no". Brooks' use of the modern vernacular, coupled with the head-on approach to many social issues makes her work important and influential, not only to the people she portrayed/represented in her writing, but to other young writers as well. Brooks herself was encouraged by poets James Weldon Johnson and Langston Hughes, and later became a role model and mentor to many young poets through her own teaching, speaking and philanthropical endeavors.
Quote: "Very early in life I became fascinated with the wonders language can achieve. And I began playing with words." --Gwendolyn Brooks (I think we're all glad she did.)
Brooks began writing poetry at an early age and was first published at age 13. She would go on to write more than twenty books of poetry as well as other books, such as her novel, Maud Martha a look at racial and ethnic identity's impact on day-to-day life. Brooks frequently incorporated her experiences and observations of minority urban life in her poetry as well, as in this well-known poem:
We Real Cool
The Pool Players.
Seven at the Golden Shovel.
We real cool. We
Left school. We
Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We
Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We
Jazz June. We
Die soon.
Throughout her life, Gwendolyn Brooks' work and career was subject to much debate, including the question: did she sacrifice content and style for political statement? Reading through her work answers with a resounding "no". Brooks' use of the modern vernacular, coupled with the head-on approach to many social issues makes her work important and influential, not only to the people she portrayed/represented in her writing, but to other young writers as well. Brooks herself was encouraged by poets James Weldon Johnson and Langston Hughes, and later became a role model and mentor to many young poets through her own teaching, speaking and philanthropical endeavors.
Quote: "Very early in life I became fascinated with the wonders language can achieve. And I began playing with words." --Gwendolyn Brooks (I think we're all glad she did.)
I Am Edith Wharton’s Muse
by candiduke on Wednesday, April 30, 2003 08:11 pm"I live in the mist beyond time and place, where imagination and dreams meet, and music is born on golden wings destined to pierce the veils of mystery. It is I who whisper from the far reaches into a mortal's thoughts. It is I who strikes the heart chords and makes them hum with the joyous sound of creation. I am the cause to her effect and affection."
Hold it. Wait a minute. Cut! My kid sister will go on and on if we let her. The youngest Muse has an itty-bitty case of sibling rivalry. Ok? She's always, always practicing her acceptance speech, and she's always trying to catch up to me. I'm Calliope; Muse of epic poetry and rhetoric. Just call me Callie for short.
Homer, Melville, Proust, Shakespeare, Tolstoy; that's my line of work. I've been around awhile, so the glam's kind of off the rose, so to speak. I can be casual. Sis, being new to the game, is another story, however. She takes the job so seriously. But what can I say? There's no comparison. Pop culture can't hold a candle to the classics. She really needs to lighten up.
But she doesn't even have a name yet. And let me tell you that really chaps her, big time. I've told her and told her. Don't worry! I didn't get my name until well into my third century. You know? Whatever. We can deal with that later, after the council gives her full privilege and makes the 10th Muse an official addition to the clan.
We worked together on that first case and she did a fine job. To be honest, all I did was supervise. And now we are going before the council. Zeus, Mnemosyne, Aphrodite, Demeter, Persephone, Aries, Hermes, Hades, Hera; the whole gang will be there.
"She sees far horizons, beyond the limits of her birthright. She writes the future I have shown her. She plants the seeds of change and paints vistas others will soon hunger for. And when her time has passed, I watch over her garden as well as the harvest she has reaped, so that it flourishes and endures, into an era, where it will in turn inspire new generations to remember, the Muse, whose name goes unsung."
See what I mean? She drones. Absolutely. It's a good thing Edith Wharton had a mind of her own. Excuse me. That was tacky. Sister is earnest, and she has her talents. Well, I'm sure she'll get better. Ok. I admit it. I helped her out a little bit, and Edith did have an ear for the classics.
"Edith was the perfect candidate for amusement. She proved to have a quick and rich imagination at a very early age and was born into a family of privilege in 1862, which was an exhilarating time for world history. It was an era of accelerated change and invention. Her 75-year lifespan, which ended in 1937, encapsulated the height of civilization's capacity for progress and expansion as well as the depths of humanity's ability to create misery and ruin. Save for one thing. She was spared the horrors of the atom bomb, and thus, didn't even see a glimmer of the Atomic Age and the barbarism that was set loose a mere eight years after her passing."
But that is another bone, which we will pick with Aries at a later date. Now, we go before the council with our appeal. We need another Muse. Nine is just not enough. Sister did a spectacular job with her first assignment. She has carried it through to completion. And we now face a new era desperately in need of inspiration. It is time for her probation to end. She is entitled to a name; status, rank and the full extent of her powers should be bestowed upon her immediately. None of this "in due course" business. I speak for all of the Muses when I say that we are fed up with the bureaucracy and the red tape and the delay tactics. It is all such fallacious hogwash and folderol. We have grown weary of being treated as inferior divinities, while the gods run off and play like children in a sandbox.
Oh, I beg your pardon. I shouldn't have gone off like that, but we do feel so passionate about this issue, and we hope you will stand behind us when we make our plea. You see, they think that humans don't care anymore. They think that the Muse is- obsolete! As a matter of fact, they are considering washing their hands of the whole mess. Like, firing all of the Muses, entirely and forever. Where would we go? What would we do? We would vanish into thin air. There now, the cat is out of the bag and you can see what a pickle we are in. I only ask that you let us show you what we have done, just in this one case with Edith Wharton. And we can do so much more. I promise.
"Edith Wharton was George and Lucretia Jones' third child and only daughter, born in New York City, on January 24, 1862. It was an aristocratic New York family with a pedigree reaching back three centuries; old money accumulated through the shipping and real estate industries. As a daughter of society and a member of the elite upper crust, her prescribed role was to learn the mannerisms and rituals expected of well-bred young women, and in turn, marry well, raise some children and become a hostess within the narrow confines of Old New York. She was privately educated at home by governesses and tutors and had the privilege of access to her father's extensive library.
"The love of story telling appeared in Edith before she learned to read. She often preferred the activity of make believe to the company of children her own age. A near death experience caused by a bout of typhoid fever seems to have enhanced her creativity and imagination. I do believe the veils were lifted during the high fever; that she had a glimpse of the Muse. She was haunted for years afterwards, with the sensation that someone was watching her and following close behind. We were, dear. We were.
"Edith's family moved to Europe for several years during her early childhood in order to escape the high inflation, which was the result of the Civil War, and to preserve their leisurely standard of living. This would prove to be a formative period for her. Edith maintained a love and appreciation for the sophistication and beauty of Europe throughout her entire life. After 48 years of international travel, she would make a permanent move to Europe in 1911, do the unthinkable and divorce her husband, Teddy Wharton, and live in France as an expatriate until her death in 1937."
To tell you the truth, I don't understand why Edith hated living in America so much, and specifically, New York City. It was an exciting time to be there. We were busy doling out inspiration, I can tell you that. Her lifetime spanned a period rich with invention.
Imagine this, you with the computer and the internet. Picture life as a writer without paperclips, pushpins, scotch tape, fountain pens, ballpoint pens, mechanical pencils, crayons, or typewriters. Edith saw all these accessories invented in her lifetime. I guarantee she used them and loved it.
She also saw the invention of toilet paper and the pull chain toilet, band-aids,q-tips, germ theory, and x-rays. Communication was enhanced by first the drop mailbox, then transcontinental and transatlantic telegraph, radio and the telephone. She enjoyed the invent of records and the record player but refused to attend the motion picture show or buy a t.v. She loved her motorcar although she refused to get in a plane, and she totally appreciated her Kodak camera. The invention of the incandescent light bulb, electricity companies, transcontinental railroad, airplanes, escalators, revolving doors, refrigerators, sewing machines, rayon, zippers, cotton candy, hot dogs, bubble gum, coca cola, chocolate chip cookies, Lincoln logs, Monopoly, and the Ferris Wheel changed everyone's life for the better.
The era was known as the Gilded Age. Vast fortunes were made overnight. Railroads afforded western expansion and the transport of goods. Merchandising and manufacturing transformed the United States into a consumer economy. Electricity companies prompted the in vention of a multitude of time saving devices. Skyscrapers soared to the sky, and eventually, super sonic rockets did so as well.
Thoughts changed and new theories expanded the definition of truth. Darwin, Einstein, William James, Freud, and Jung altered forever the belief in creation and the understanding of the mind.
Yes, I loved the adventures of the Gilded Age. The new millennium pales in comparison if you ask me. But then again, I think Edith�s love of Europe was more about getting out of her family's reach than anything else.
"Edith married Teddy Wharton in 1885 at the late age of 23. Teddy was not her intellectual match but a good social one, and they had a love of travel in common. Early on in their marriage they took part in an extravagant three-month cruise in the Aegean Sea, despite familial disapproval. In later years, Edith would say this was the most important thing she could have ever done.
"The experience opened up new vistas for her. She had her first taste of independence from an overbearing, superficial mother, and relished the opportunity to pursue interests and develop friendships with creative and artistic people outside of the narrow scope of her upbringing. Along with the autonomy came a growing sense of self-determinism. Thereafter, she and Teddy spent a significant part of each year in Europe."
The marriage was not a passionate one, however. Her mother had never taught her about sex and Edith's lack of knowledge along with the oppressive mores of the times caused unresolved sexual disappointments. Pervasive social conditioning required that she play the part of hostess and dutiful wife even if there were no children, and these activities appear to have consumed most of her energy and time until she was well past her mid-30's. Understandably, given her creative and independent nature and her unfulfilled sexual desire; depression plagued her during this time. She wrote sporadically during these twelve odd years, publishing only a few short stories and poems of a personal nature, which reflected her unhappiness.
"Her first serious publishing effort and some moderate success came in 1897 with "A Decoration of Houses", which she wrote with architect Ogden Codman. The book effectively and single handedly changed the popular style for interior design, eliminating the clutter and fuss of the Victorian Era, and establishing a brand new career field for others to pursue as well; Interior Design."
This accomplishment coincided with Walter Berry's re-entry into Edith's arena. Walter Berry, the lawyer, judge and diplomat, was an important influence on her writing. Edith claims he taught her everything she needed to know about grammar in the weeks when he assisted with "A Decoration of Houses".
Some would also say he was the love of her life, but there is no proof that they ever did the nasty. They met the year before she married Teddy, and I think she would have married him if he had asked her. But then again, there is no substantiating evidence that Berry did the naughty thing with anyone, so he didn�t appear too inclined towards matrimony.
Now that he was back in her life, he seemed to lend direction to her aims, fulfill an intellectual void, and encourage her growth and independence. They remained close companions for the rest of his life. He was her most loyal reader and it is said that no new manuscript went to the publishers without first meeting his approval. He died in her arms in 1927. Edith said the sun went out for her on that day.
"After "A Decoration of Houses", Edith gained ground and momentum with her creativity and productivity. This proved to be the end of her depression and the beginning of an extravagant phase of expansion. From 1897 to 1904 she published prolifically; three short story collections, two novellas, two more books covering landscape and interior design, and a historical novel based on her travels and research in Italy.
"In 1901 Edith took on another ambitious project well suited to her nature; designing and building her own mammoth sized house and garden; "The Mount", in Lenox, Massachusetts. The decade she spent at The Mount would eventually be one of her happiest memories, as she benefited from living inside of her own creation and blossomed into a professional authoress during that time.
"The quiet atmosphere was conducive to writing and her lifestyle was inspirational. She enjoyed being away from the hectic pace and restraints of New York Society, working in her gardens, taking drives in the country in her new motorcar, and entertaining friends of her own choosing. (Edith loved her role as Salon Mistress and was definately the hostess with the mostest.)
"It was during this period that she developed daily writing habits and a supportive social circle that played a significant part in her success as one of the most prolific female writers of the early 20th century.
"At the age of 40 years, Edith Wharton had finally found her stride. "The House of Mirth", published in 1905, marks Edith's coming of age as a novelist. It was an immediate bestseller. In this novel of manners with a realist twist, she found fertile ground in old New York Society. She dissected the world of privilege, old and new money, with an ironic humor and cast her eye upon the American woman's plight with a grace and flare that won her a faithful and appreciative audience. Throughout the rest of her career, Edith would return to this subject matter, time and time again, to meet with great success."
Ironically, as Edith found her way, Teddy lost his. Mental illness afflicted him around the time that Edith's star was on the rise and her depression had ended. The atmosphere at the Mount was not well suited to his temperament. The quiet of the country seemed to exacerbate his troubles. But I think he was afflicted with a terrible case of inferiority living in the shadow of Edith's success, and that this was the major cause of his problems. See, they were living in a cultural climate that delegated women to the ornamental status and bestowed enormous amounts of power and accolades on men even when it wasn't warranted. He didn't have a job to do and couldn't stand Edith finding success and respect as a professional and an intellectual.
Teddy's mental condition continued on a downward spiral until he finally misappropriated funds from Edith's estate in order to support a mistress and then fought violently to maintain control over her finances. That's when she sold The Mount and moved to Europe for good. She continued to support Teddy financially after that, but refused to live with him and eventually faced the disapproval of her family and filed for divorce. This, indeed, was the major influence in Edith's choice to become an expatriate. It was personal after all, not necessarily a political statement, at least initially.
I think Henry James played a big role in saving Edith's life during the torrid years of a disintegrating marriage. They met at The Mount in 1902, on one of his few trips to America. An honored man of letters, he was, as well as a confidante, sounding board, and inspiration. Their friendship lasted until his death during World War I. He could do what Walter Berry could not. He could be an ear for Edith's marriage troubles and her most infamous affair, with Morton Fullerton.
Morton Fullerton was a dashing man, a journalist; but a bit of a cad. Aside from being incapable of commitment or fidelity, he was also a bisexual. For some reason only Aphrodite will know, however, he brought Edith's blood to a boil. She knew passion for the first time in her life during their affair, and wrote volumes of erotic poetry and journal entries in honor of the occasion. Henry James was there for her throughout all the ups and downs and ins and outs. The affair brought Edith's problems with Te ddy to a head and also taught her depths of feelings she would have otherwise never known.
"Ethan Frome", published in 1911, came out of that period in her life. It has proved to be the most honored of her writings, maybe because there is a depth of honesty and emotion laid down on those pages that cannot be denied. It would appear that she finally buried the ghost of her guilt about divorce in the writing of this manuscript, because afterwards, she made the final move to France.
"With the onset of World War I only a few years later, Edith decided to stay on in France and do volunteer work rather than return to the safety of the United States. These years took her out of the public eye, but on a personal level she worked harder than she had ever worked before, running hostels, infirmaries and orphanages.
"Her novel, "The Good Son" went fairly unnoticed, as the world rushed into the Jazz Age and speakeasies; away from the panic and pain of catastrophic war. Yet her efforts did not go unrecognized. The President of France awarded her with the Legion of Honor in 1916, the highest order the President could dispose.
"Age of Innocence", published in 1920, was overlooked at first; due to the fact that Edith had been busy with the war effort, working behind the scenes, for so long. In this story she returns to the Gilded Age and old New York Society, yet the heroine wins an independent life, unlike the heroine of "The House of Mirth." In this regard she reflects the climate of the Jazz Age and the changes it wrought for women.
"But the delayed notice was short lived. Yes, "Age of Innocence" proved to be her crowning accomplishment; bringing her recognition as the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize in 1921, the year after women in America finally won the right to vote. In 1923 she also became the first woman awarded the Doctor of Letters by Yale University and she made her one and only trip back to America since 1912.
"She continued to write prolifically until her death in 1937; publishing more than 32 books throughout her life. Her final works included, "The Writing of Fiction", her autobiography, "A Backward Glance", "Ghosts", and the unfinished novel, "The Buccaneers". She is best remembered for her humor and irony as a writer in the genre of the novel of manners, yet she also produced poetry, critical analysis, travel writings, short stories, commentaries on World War I, and books on landscape architecture and interior design. She was a prolific letter writer and kept a journal. Upon her death, she left her papers to Yale University with the stipulation that publication be withheld until 1968."
That was MY best idea; keeping the papers and journals under lock and key for 30 years. I'm glad she took it. It gave the rest of the world time to catch up to Edith and her independent nature. We had entered into another era by the time the papers were released; one that brought more equality and appreciation for women, and a renewed interest in women's contributions from the past.
So there you have it. I'm sure you can see what we are capable of. Consider this. As you read us, we read you. Sort of like an interview. Take a moment to think about the possibilities. If you are willing to speak for us at the council, we may inspire you to greatness. Go on. Take your time. We'll be in touch�.
"Soaring beyond the limits of memory and experience, the Muse will take you there. Reaching from beneath the surface of what is known, the Muse will take you there. A love most splendid and a thrill superior, the Muse will take you there."
Hold it. Wait a minute. Cut! My kid sister will go on and on if we let her. The youngest Muse has an itty-bitty case of sibling rivalry. Ok? She's always, always practicing her acceptance speech, and she's always trying to catch up to me. I'm Calliope; Muse of epic poetry and rhetoric. Just call me Callie for short.
Homer, Melville, Proust, Shakespeare, Tolstoy; that's my line of work. I've been around awhile, so the glam's kind of off the rose, so to speak. I can be casual. Sis, being new to the game, is another story, however. She takes the job so seriously. But what can I say? There's no comparison. Pop culture can't hold a candle to the classics. She really needs to lighten up.
But she doesn't even have a name yet. And let me tell you that really chaps her, big time. I've told her and told her. Don't worry! I didn't get my name until well into my third century. You know? Whatever. We can deal with that later, after the council gives her full privilege and makes the 10th Muse an official addition to the clan.
We worked together on that first case and she did a fine job. To be honest, all I did was supervise. And now we are going before the council. Zeus, Mnemosyne, Aphrodite, Demeter, Persephone, Aries, Hermes, Hades, Hera; the whole gang will be there.
"She sees far horizons, beyond the limits of her birthright. She writes the future I have shown her. She plants the seeds of change and paints vistas others will soon hunger for. And when her time has passed, I watch over her garden as well as the harvest she has reaped, so that it flourishes and endures, into an era, where it will in turn inspire new generations to remember, the Muse, whose name goes unsung."
See what I mean? She drones. Absolutely. It's a good thing Edith Wharton had a mind of her own. Excuse me. That was tacky. Sister is earnest, and she has her talents. Well, I'm sure she'll get better. Ok. I admit it. I helped her out a little bit, and Edith did have an ear for the classics.
"Edith was the perfect candidate for amusement. She proved to have a quick and rich imagination at a very early age and was born into a family of privilege in 1862, which was an exhilarating time for world history. It was an era of accelerated change and invention. Her 75-year lifespan, which ended in 1937, encapsulated the height of civilization's capacity for progress and expansion as well as the depths of humanity's ability to create misery and ruin. Save for one thing. She was spared the horrors of the atom bomb, and thus, didn't even see a glimmer of the Atomic Age and the barbarism that was set loose a mere eight years after her passing."
But that is another bone, which we will pick with Aries at a later date. Now, we go before the council with our appeal. We need another Muse. Nine is just not enough. Sister did a spectacular job with her first assignment. She has carried it through to completion. And we now face a new era desperately in need of inspiration. It is time for her probation to end. She is entitled to a name; status, rank and the full extent of her powers should be bestowed upon her immediately. None of this "in due course" business. I speak for all of the Muses when I say that we are fed up with the bureaucracy and the red tape and the delay tactics. It is all such fallacious hogwash and folderol. We have grown weary of being treated as inferior divinities, while the gods run off and play like children in a sandbox.
Oh, I beg your pardon. I shouldn't have gone off like that, but we do feel so passionate about this issue, and we hope you will stand behind us when we make our plea. You see, they think that humans don't care anymore. They think that the Muse is- obsolete! As a matter of fact, they are considering washing their hands of the whole mess. Like, firing all of the Muses, entirely and forever. Where would we go? What would we do? We would vanish into thin air. There now, the cat is out of the bag and you can see what a pickle we are in. I only ask that you let us show you what we have done, just in this one case with Edith Wharton. And we can do so much more. I promise.
"Edith Wharton was George and Lucretia Jones' third child and only daughter, born in New York City, on January 24, 1862. It was an aristocratic New York family with a pedigree reaching back three centuries; old money accumulated through the shipping and real estate industries. As a daughter of society and a member of the elite upper crust, her prescribed role was to learn the mannerisms and rituals expected of well-bred young women, and in turn, marry well, raise some children and become a hostess within the narrow confines of Old New York. She was privately educated at home by governesses and tutors and had the privilege of access to her father's extensive library.
"The love of story telling appeared in Edith before she learned to read. She often preferred the activity of make believe to the company of children her own age. A near death experience caused by a bout of typhoid fever seems to have enhanced her creativity and imagination. I do believe the veils were lifted during the high fever; that she had a glimpse of the Muse. She was haunted for years afterwards, with the sensation that someone was watching her and following close behind. We were, dear. We were.
"Edith's family moved to Europe for several years during her early childhood in order to escape the high inflation, which was the result of the Civil War, and to preserve their leisurely standard of living. This would prove to be a formative period for her. Edith maintained a love and appreciation for the sophistication and beauty of Europe throughout her entire life. After 48 years of international travel, she would make a permanent move to Europe in 1911, do the unthinkable and divorce her husband, Teddy Wharton, and live in France as an expatriate until her death in 1937."
To tell you the truth, I don't understand why Edith hated living in America so much, and specifically, New York City. It was an exciting time to be there. We were busy doling out inspiration, I can tell you that. Her lifetime spanned a period rich with invention.
Imagine this, you with the computer and the internet. Picture life as a writer without paperclips, pushpins, scotch tape, fountain pens, ballpoint pens, mechanical pencils, crayons, or typewriters. Edith saw all these accessories invented in her lifetime. I guarantee she used them and loved it.
She also saw the invention of toilet paper and the pull chain toilet, band-aids,q-tips, germ theory, and x-rays. Communication was enhanced by first the drop mailbox, then transcontinental and transatlantic telegraph, radio and the telephone. She enjoyed the invent of records and the record player but refused to attend the motion picture show or buy a t.v. She loved her motorcar although she refused to get in a plane, and she totally appreciated her Kodak camera. The invention of the incandescent light bulb, electricity companies, transcontinental railroad, airplanes, escalators, revolving doors, refrigerators, sewing machines, rayon, zippers, cotton candy, hot dogs, bubble gum, coca cola, chocolate chip cookies, Lincoln logs, Monopoly, and the Ferris Wheel changed everyone's life for the better.
The era was known as the Gilded Age. Vast fortunes were made overnight. Railroads afforded western expansion and the transport of goods. Merchandising and manufacturing transformed the United States into a consumer economy. Electricity companies prompted the in vention of a multitude of time saving devices. Skyscrapers soared to the sky, and eventually, super sonic rockets did so as well.
Thoughts changed and new theories expanded the definition of truth. Darwin, Einstein, William James, Freud, and Jung altered forever the belief in creation and the understanding of the mind.
Yes, I loved the adventures of the Gilded Age. The new millennium pales in comparison if you ask me. But then again, I think Edith�s love of Europe was more about getting out of her family's reach than anything else.
"Edith married Teddy Wharton in 1885 at the late age of 23. Teddy was not her intellectual match but a good social one, and they had a love of travel in common. Early on in their marriage they took part in an extravagant three-month cruise in the Aegean Sea, despite familial disapproval. In later years, Edith would say this was the most important thing she could have ever done.
"The experience opened up new vistas for her. She had her first taste of independence from an overbearing, superficial mother, and relished the opportunity to pursue interests and develop friendships with creative and artistic people outside of the narrow scope of her upbringing. Along with the autonomy came a growing sense of self-determinism. Thereafter, she and Teddy spent a significant part of each year in Europe."
The marriage was not a passionate one, however. Her mother had never taught her about sex and Edith's lack of knowledge along with the oppressive mores of the times caused unresolved sexual disappointments. Pervasive social conditioning required that she play the part of hostess and dutiful wife even if there were no children, and these activities appear to have consumed most of her energy and time until she was well past her mid-30's. Understandably, given her creative and independent nature and her unfulfilled sexual desire; depression plagued her during this time. She wrote sporadically during these twelve odd years, publishing only a few short stories and poems of a personal nature, which reflected her unhappiness.
"Her first serious publishing effort and some moderate success came in 1897 with "A Decoration of Houses", which she wrote with architect Ogden Codman. The book effectively and single handedly changed the popular style for interior design, eliminating the clutter and fuss of the Victorian Era, and establishing a brand new career field for others to pursue as well; Interior Design."
This accomplishment coincided with Walter Berry's re-entry into Edith's arena. Walter Berry, the lawyer, judge and diplomat, was an important influence on her writing. Edith claims he taught her everything she needed to know about grammar in the weeks when he assisted with "A Decoration of Houses".
Some would also say he was the love of her life, but there is no proof that they ever did the nasty. They met the year before she married Teddy, and I think she would have married him if he had asked her. But then again, there is no substantiating evidence that Berry did the naughty thing with anyone, so he didn�t appear too inclined towards matrimony.
Now that he was back in her life, he seemed to lend direction to her aims, fulfill an intellectual void, and encourage her growth and independence. They remained close companions for the rest of his life. He was her most loyal reader and it is said that no new manuscript went to the publishers without first meeting his approval. He died in her arms in 1927. Edith said the sun went out for her on that day.
"After "A Decoration of Houses", Edith gained ground and momentum with her creativity and productivity. This proved to be the end of her depression and the beginning of an extravagant phase of expansion. From 1897 to 1904 she published prolifically; three short story collections, two novellas, two more books covering landscape and interior design, and a historical novel based on her travels and research in Italy.
"In 1901 Edith took on another ambitious project well suited to her nature; designing and building her own mammoth sized house and garden; "The Mount", in Lenox, Massachusetts. The decade she spent at The Mount would eventually be one of her happiest memories, as she benefited from living inside of her own creation and blossomed into a professional authoress during that time.
"The quiet atmosphere was conducive to writing and her lifestyle was inspirational. She enjoyed being away from the hectic pace and restraints of New York Society, working in her gardens, taking drives in the country in her new motorcar, and entertaining friends of her own choosing. (Edith loved her role as Salon Mistress and was definately the hostess with the mostest.)
"It was during this period that she developed daily writing habits and a supportive social circle that played a significant part in her success as one of the most prolific female writers of the early 20th century.
"At the age of 40 years, Edith Wharton had finally found her stride. "The House of Mirth", published in 1905, marks Edith's coming of age as a novelist. It was an immediate bestseller. In this novel of manners with a realist twist, she found fertile ground in old New York Society. She dissected the world of privilege, old and new money, with an ironic humor and cast her eye upon the American woman's plight with a grace and flare that won her a faithful and appreciative audience. Throughout the rest of her career, Edith would return to this subject matter, time and time again, to meet with great success."
Ironically, as Edith found her way, Teddy lost his. Mental illness afflicted him around the time that Edith's star was on the rise and her depression had ended. The atmosphere at the Mount was not well suited to his temperament. The quiet of the country seemed to exacerbate his troubles. But I think he was afflicted with a terrible case of inferiority living in the shadow of Edith's success, and that this was the major cause of his problems. See, they were living in a cultural climate that delegated women to the ornamental status and bestowed enormous amounts of power and accolades on men even when it wasn't warranted. He didn't have a job to do and couldn't stand Edith finding success and respect as a professional and an intellectual.
Teddy's mental condition continued on a downward spiral until he finally misappropriated funds from Edith's estate in order to support a mistress and then fought violently to maintain control over her finances. That's when she sold The Mount and moved to Europe for good. She continued to support Teddy financially after that, but refused to live with him and eventually faced the disapproval of her family and filed for divorce. This, indeed, was the major influence in Edith's choice to become an expatriate. It was personal after all, not necessarily a political statement, at least initially.
I think Henry James played a big role in saving Edith's life during the torrid years of a disintegrating marriage. They met at The Mount in 1902, on one of his few trips to America. An honored man of letters, he was, as well as a confidante, sounding board, and inspiration. Their friendship lasted until his death during World War I. He could do what Walter Berry could not. He could be an ear for Edith's marriage troubles and her most infamous affair, with Morton Fullerton.
Morton Fullerton was a dashing man, a journalist; but a bit of a cad. Aside from being incapable of commitment or fidelity, he was also a bisexual. For some reason only Aphrodite will know, however, he brought Edith's blood to a boil. She knew passion for the first time in her life during their affair, and wrote volumes of erotic poetry and journal entries in honor of the occasion. Henry James was there for her throughout all the ups and downs and ins and outs. The affair brought Edith's problems with Te ddy to a head and also taught her depths of feelings she would have otherwise never known.
"Ethan Frome", published in 1911, came out of that period in her life. It has proved to be the most honored of her writings, maybe because there is a depth of honesty and emotion laid down on those pages that cannot be denied. It would appear that she finally buried the ghost of her guilt about divorce in the writing of this manuscript, because afterwards, she made the final move to France.
"With the onset of World War I only a few years later, Edith decided to stay on in France and do volunteer work rather than return to the safety of the United States. These years took her out of the public eye, but on a personal level she worked harder than she had ever worked before, running hostels, infirmaries and orphanages.
"Her novel, "The Good Son" went fairly unnoticed, as the world rushed into the Jazz Age and speakeasies; away from the panic and pain of catastrophic war. Yet her efforts did not go unrecognized. The President of France awarded her with the Legion of Honor in 1916, the highest order the President could dispose.
"Age of Innocence", published in 1920, was overlooked at first; due to the fact that Edith had been busy with the war effort, working behind the scenes, for so long. In this story she returns to the Gilded Age and old New York Society, yet the heroine wins an independent life, unlike the heroine of "The House of Mirth." In this regard she reflects the climate of the Jazz Age and the changes it wrought for women.
"But the delayed notice was short lived. Yes, "Age of Innocence" proved to be her crowning accomplishment; bringing her recognition as the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize in 1921, the year after women in America finally won the right to vote. In 1923 she also became the first woman awarded the Doctor of Letters by Yale University and she made her one and only trip back to America since 1912.
"She continued to write prolifically until her death in 1937; publishing more than 32 books throughout her life. Her final works included, "The Writing of Fiction", her autobiography, "A Backward Glance", "Ghosts", and the unfinished novel, "The Buccaneers". She is best remembered for her humor and irony as a writer in the genre of the novel of manners, yet she also produced poetry, critical analysis, travel writings, short stories, commentaries on World War I, and books on landscape architecture and interior design. She was a prolific letter writer and kept a journal. Upon her death, she left her papers to Yale University with the stipulation that publication be withheld until 1968."
That was MY best idea; keeping the papers and journals under lock and key for 30 years. I'm glad she took it. It gave the rest of the world time to catch up to Edith and her independent nature. We had entered into another era by the time the papers were released; one that brought more equality and appreciation for women, and a renewed interest in women's contributions from the past.
So there you have it. I'm sure you can see what we are capable of. Consider this. As you read us, we read you. Sort of like an interview. Take a moment to think about the possibilities. If you are willing to speak for us at the council, we may inspire you to greatness. Go on. Take your time. We'll be in touch�.
"Soaring beyond the limits of memory and experience, the Muse will take you there. Reaching from beneath the surface of what is known, the Muse will take you there. A love most splendid and a thrill superior, the Muse will take you there."
An Interview with Lyn Lifshin
by Andrew Lundwall on Friday, April 25, 2003 12:02 amAndrew Lundwall: Lyn, in terms of your poetry, could you elaborate on your vision? What do you seek to accomplish as a poet, as a writer? Do you consider yourself to be an integral part of 21st century literature and why?
Lyn Lifshin: Vision is one of those rather abstract lofty words I don't really connect with poetry. I write poems that I hope will move people, let the reader feel someone else feels as they do though they never realized that. I hope the reader will find the poems let them see things in a different way and also in ways they might have felt but never quite understood that. The idea of Horace's that literature should teach and delight is interesting,"teach" in the sense of revealing, showing, connecting in a way that is startling, stunning, delightful. Even more I like Emily Dickinson's quote, "If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. These are the only ways I know it. Is there any other way?" As for feeling part of the 21st century that is something I never have thought much about. I suppose one is always a part of the time they are writing the events, values, words, the history of the time one moves through that makes one part of their times whether they rebel against it or elebrate it or ignore it.
AL: Lyn, could you explain your title "queen of the small press"?
LL: "Queen of the small press" is a rather strange title that was almost accidental. Black Apples was published first by The Crossing ress with a yellow cover and a drawing of a pumpkin or a pumpkin-like house, pale yellow, definitely not slick. It sold out quickly. The second edition was beautiful and had a shiny harder cover that also sold out. The 3rd edition had a papery cover with the same photograph as on the second edition but not shiny, not quite as beautiful. I suppose to jazz the 3rd edition up, John Gill took a line from a review by Warren Woessner the "Queen of the Small Press" for a little embellishment in the same way as he added 13 poems from earlier books and an introduction by John Gill as well as review statements from Warren Woessner, Victor Contoski, Alan Dugan, Richard Eberhart, and others. Later, one publisher wanted to make one book cover look like a romance novel. I said no as I did to another small press publisher who wanted to call a book Undressed and have me on the cover in bib overalls with nothing underneath. I nixed that too.
AL: Lyn, do you believe in inspiration? Or would you define the need to write as an instinctive, gut-driven process? Something born of the nerve-endings?
LL: I'm not sure about inspiration. Sometimes something will seem to demand to be written about. But often it takes several attempts to try to get it. Auden I think said if he had to choose whether to work with a student who felt driven to tell what he felt or someone who liked to play with words, he would pick the latter. I think poems, for me, come both ways. Recently I wrote series of poems because someone asked me to, about the adoption of a new baby, not something I would normally write about. Assignments often work well: the most unlikely subjects seem to lead to good poems, probably because they are new and fresh subjects I've never thought about. Several of my books came about in that way: Marilyn Monroe Poems came from poems I wrote for Rick Peabody's Mondo Marilyn, Jesus Alive and In the Flesh, from a request to submit to a Jesus as a pop icon anthology that came out just recently as Sweet Jesus. For another anthology, Dick for a Day I wrote a number of poems and many of them are sprinkled through my last two Black Sparrow books, Cold Comfort and Before It's Light, as well as my forthcoming Black Sparrow/David Godine book Another Woman Who Looks Like Me. Other "assignments" have led to poems as varied as The Daughter I Don't Have to poems about condoms. In my new book there are many poems based on paintings, also a request. I've often written poems about historic sites Shaker House Poems, The Old House on the Croton, The Old House Poems, Arizona Ruins Auddley End... so many that often I feel, in a new environment, a pull to try a poem based in that setting, that history. It's definitely a mix. When I go to teach I often do some exercises where the writers pick words and have to use them in a poem -- it frees the imagination at times to write about what you didn't really plan to.
AL: When you think of the word "hermetic" what immediately comes to mind?
LL: Probably because we have Hermes store nearby, when I hear "hermetic" I think of Hermes the god who the store must have also been thinking of: his elegance and eloquence and his being a leader of commerce. I think of how Hermes guided the dead on their way. And I think of Ira Herman who invited me once to read with Ken Kesey who was also eloquent, now dead, quite magnetic and magical when he wasn't. I think too of Emily Dickinson, not only for being separate but because of her poems, separated by fusion, air tight. And who could not think of cookies, hermit cookies, spicy, sweet or Emily's tropical birds, darting from petals to stamens to petals, alchemical. Writing this, I am also reading Millay's letters, how on March 4, 1926 from Steepletop (where I spent one September, feeling very isolated) she wrote to Edmund Wilson saying "we have been snowed in. I mean hermetically 4 weeks today, Five miles on snow shoes.... to fetch the mail or post a letter."
AL: What poets past or present have influenced your work the most and why? Also, what are your thoughts on surrealism, surrealist literature?
LL: I wrote my Master's Thesis on Dylan Thomas so I must have been somewhat influenced by him though I don't see it myself. I did an undergraduate thesis on Federico Garcia Lorca. My love of repetition, ominous beauty likely was influenced by his poems. And I worked on my PhD with a major in 15th, 16th and 17th century English (British) poetry. My PhD dissertation, which I wrote 100 pages of, dealt with Wyatt, Sidney and Donne. I know Wyatt's ragged, thought being thought-out style, breathless, not seeming to be polished and carefully written down, like the poems of Sidney, appealed much more to me. I think he as if I was just thinking the thought out, influenced my poems, often breathless. When I left SUNY at Albany, I had read very little contemporary poetry and plunged into writers like Sexton and Plath and probably Williams. I easily remember reading Sexton's " The Double Image" in a parked car in snow and being so taken by the emotion, that startling, personal quality that was so stunning, so moving. Not knowing that much about other contemporary writers, I took out many, many library books, discovered Paul Blackburn, Creeley, Wakoski, Piercy and began ordering small press books and magazines. There I discovered poets quite unlike Dryden, Pope, Donne and Herbert poets in the meat and mimeo school like Bukowski, DR Wagner, Steve Richmond, DA Levy. Every time I read a new magazine Wormwood, Goodly Company, El Corno Emplumado, I discovered wildly exciting poets. It was a wonderful and powerful set of discoveries for me. New York Times Book Review section had a cover photograph of many of the small and smallest press magazines. I found there was a program of poetry every Tuesday around noon on a PBS radio station and I always took the phone off the hook and listened. When I worked as an editor at a local PBS TV station I was fascinated by a series of programs called "USA Poetry" with write rs like Ed Sanders, Michael McClure, Anne Sexton I was enthralled. Soon I was included in an issue Rolling Stone did of 100 up and coming poets. I'm sure, too, I have been influenced by so much of the poetry by women I read in my several versions of Tangled Vines, a collection of mother and daughter poems, as well as women writing in two other of my anthologies, Ariadne's Thread and Lips Unsealed. I was a fine arts history minor in college and of course studied surrealism in art and a little in literature. I've certainly been influenced by their influence on American poets like Bly and the poets he published.
AL: Lyn, when did you start writing? What was the drive, the catalyst that made it inevitable that you write?
LL: I started writing when, at 6; I skipped from first grade to third grade because I read at an advanced level. As a result, I never learned long division, was always lost in math. But I loved to read and write. An excellent teacher, Mrs. Flag, read us Longfellow and Keats and had us write our own poems. She would bring apple blossoms and boughs in and have us look and touch, smell and taste and then write our own poems. I have blue thin notebooks of poems from then many but the poem that I had to write is the one I remember best. I grew up in a small town, Middlebury, Vermont and we lived on Main Street. One weekend I copied a poem of Blake's we were reading him at the time. I showed it to my mother, told her I wrote it. In a town of 3000 it wasn't surprising my mother ran into that teacher, excited, said what an inspiration she had been, how I used words she didn't even know I knew. By Monday, I had to write my own poem and it had to have "rill," "nigh" and "descending," in it.
AL: In terms of literature and psychology, do you believe that your subconscious leads you when you write? What are your thoughts on the psychological aspects of writing, literature?
LL: I do think the subconscious is connected to what i write. I used to say once I wrote something it became true, then it happened. In some workshops I have had students use dreams and dream exercises, day dreaming to let poems be triggered. And I've often written poems based on dreams. I suppose many images come from the sub- conscious, the strangeness in some poems, the stories I have no idea where they came from, the surreal. The title poem of Black Apples is a poem called "The�Dream of Black Apples, War". Somehow it came quickly, quietly from a dream and anticipated much that did happen later. The connection is one that is fascinating. I recently read that the predisposition to suicide can be determined by the use of some pronouns over others. I always want to read more about how memory works especially after editing my collection of women's memoirs, Lips Unsealed. I think it is very tangled with the subconscious I don't think any of the arts is separate from it.
AL: What's your favorite curse-word?
LL: My favorite swear word is one I probably never used but would love to. In college my roommate, from Rochester, with a definite Rochester accent and knowledge of Yiddish was always trying to teach me phrases that were very stunning but I could never quite say them right I think. I loved one, it sounded like "Vergo Harvit" or something like that and it meant drop dead I think very piercing word sounded like what it meant. But I never quite got it right.
AL: Thank you very much for allowing me to conduct this interview. Do you have any thoughts you'd like to share before we conclude?
LL: Well one important thing to me is that everyone know if they don't that Black Sparrow Books now will be published by David Godine press as Black Sparrow/ David Godine Books their new spring catalogue is just out with their back list and my new book, Another Woman Who Looks Like Me, will be published by them soon. They can be reached at info@godine.com or info@blacksparrowpress.com phone is 800-344-4771 and fax is 800- 226-0934 and published recently is my new book from March Street Press and you can order that through Amazon.com or contact the publisher at rbixby@aol.com and still available is a documentary film about me called Lyn Lifshin: Not Made of Glass distributed by Women Make Movies. Telephone is 1-212-925-0606 Fax is 1-212-925-7002 and e mail is distdept@wmm.com. And my web site with lots of everything is www.lynlifshin.com
Lyn Lifshin: Vision is one of those rather abstract lofty words I don't really connect with poetry. I write poems that I hope will move people, let the reader feel someone else feels as they do though they never realized that. I hope the reader will find the poems let them see things in a different way and also in ways they might have felt but never quite understood that. The idea of Horace's that literature should teach and delight is interesting,"teach" in the sense of revealing, showing, connecting in a way that is startling, stunning, delightful. Even more I like Emily Dickinson's quote, "If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry. These are the only ways I know it. Is there any other way?" As for feeling part of the 21st century that is something I never have thought much about. I suppose one is always a part of the time they are writing the events, values, words, the history of the time one moves through that makes one part of their times whether they rebel against it or elebrate it or ignore it.
AL: Lyn, could you explain your title "queen of the small press"?
LL: "Queen of the small press" is a rather strange title that was almost accidental. Black Apples was published first by The Crossing ress with a yellow cover and a drawing of a pumpkin or a pumpkin-like house, pale yellow, definitely not slick. It sold out quickly. The second edition was beautiful and had a shiny harder cover that also sold out. The 3rd edition had a papery cover with the same photograph as on the second edition but not shiny, not quite as beautiful. I suppose to jazz the 3rd edition up, John Gill took a line from a review by Warren Woessner the "Queen of the Small Press" for a little embellishment in the same way as he added 13 poems from earlier books and an introduction by John Gill as well as review statements from Warren Woessner, Victor Contoski, Alan Dugan, Richard Eberhart, and others. Later, one publisher wanted to make one book cover look like a romance novel. I said no as I did to another small press publisher who wanted to call a book Undressed and have me on the cover in bib overalls with nothing underneath. I nixed that too.
AL: Lyn, do you believe in inspiration? Or would you define the need to write as an instinctive, gut-driven process? Something born of the nerve-endings?
LL: I'm not sure about inspiration. Sometimes something will seem to demand to be written about. But often it takes several attempts to try to get it. Auden I think said if he had to choose whether to work with a student who felt driven to tell what he felt or someone who liked to play with words, he would pick the latter. I think poems, for me, come both ways. Recently I wrote series of poems because someone asked me to, about the adoption of a new baby, not something I would normally write about. Assignments often work well: the most unlikely subjects seem to lead to good poems, probably because they are new and fresh subjects I've never thought about. Several of my books came about in that way: Marilyn Monroe Poems came from poems I wrote for Rick Peabody's Mondo Marilyn, Jesus Alive and In the Flesh, from a request to submit to a Jesus as a pop icon anthology that came out just recently as Sweet Jesus. For another anthology, Dick for a Day I wrote a number of poems and many of them are sprinkled through my last two Black Sparrow books, Cold Comfort and Before It's Light, as well as my forthcoming Black Sparrow/David Godine book Another Woman Who Looks Like Me. Other "assignments" have led to poems as varied as The Daughter I Don't Have to poems about condoms. In my new book there are many poems based on paintings, also a request. I've often written poems about historic sites Shaker House Poems, The Old House on the Croton, The Old House Poems, Arizona Ruins Auddley End... so many that often I feel, in a new environment, a pull to try a poem based in that setting, that history. It's definitely a mix. When I go to teach I often do some exercises where the writers pick words and have to use them in a poem -- it frees the imagination at times to write about what you didn't really plan to.
AL: When you think of the word "hermetic" what immediately comes to mind?
LL: Probably because we have Hermes store nearby, when I hear "hermetic" I think of Hermes the god who the store must have also been thinking of: his elegance and eloquence and his being a leader of commerce. I think of how Hermes guided the dead on their way. And I think of Ira Herman who invited me once to read with Ken Kesey who was also eloquent, now dead, quite magnetic and magical when he wasn't. I think too of Emily Dickinson, not only for being separate but because of her poems, separated by fusion, air tight. And who could not think of cookies, hermit cookies, spicy, sweet or Emily's tropical birds, darting from petals to stamens to petals, alchemical. Writing this, I am also reading Millay's letters, how on March 4, 1926 from Steepletop (where I spent one September, feeling very isolated) she wrote to Edmund Wilson saying "we have been snowed in. I mean hermetically 4 weeks today, Five miles on snow shoes.... to fetch the mail or post a letter."
AL: What poets past or present have influenced your work the most and why? Also, what are your thoughts on surrealism, surrealist literature?
LL: I wrote my Master's Thesis on Dylan Thomas so I must have been somewhat influenced by him though I don't see it myself. I did an undergraduate thesis on Federico Garcia Lorca. My love of repetition, ominous beauty likely was influenced by his poems. And I worked on my PhD with a major in 15th, 16th and 17th century English (British) poetry. My PhD dissertation, which I wrote 100 pages of, dealt with Wyatt, Sidney and Donne. I know Wyatt's ragged, thought being thought-out style, breathless, not seeming to be polished and carefully written down, like the poems of Sidney, appealed much more to me. I think he as if I was just thinking the thought out, influenced my poems, often breathless. When I left SUNY at Albany, I had read very little contemporary poetry and plunged into writers like Sexton and Plath and probably Williams. I easily remember reading Sexton's " The Double Image" in a parked car in snow and being so taken by the emotion, that startling, personal quality that was so stunning, so moving. Not knowing that much about other contemporary writers, I took out many, many library books, discovered Paul Blackburn, Creeley, Wakoski, Piercy and began ordering small press books and magazines. There I discovered poets quite unlike Dryden, Pope, Donne and Herbert poets in the meat and mimeo school like Bukowski, DR Wagner, Steve Richmond, DA Levy. Every time I read a new magazine Wormwood, Goodly Company, El Corno Emplumado, I discovered wildly exciting poets. It was a wonderful and powerful set of discoveries for me. New York Times Book Review section had a cover photograph of many of the small and smallest press magazines. I found there was a program of poetry every Tuesday around noon on a PBS radio station and I always took the phone off the hook and listened. When I worked as an editor at a local PBS TV station I was fascinated by a series of programs called "USA Poetry" with write rs like Ed Sanders, Michael McClure, Anne Sexton I was enthralled. Soon I was included in an issue Rolling Stone did of 100 up and coming poets. I'm sure, too, I have been influenced by so much of the poetry by women I read in my several versions of Tangled Vines, a collection of mother and daughter poems, as well as women writing in two other of my anthologies, Ariadne's Thread and Lips Unsealed. I was a fine arts history minor in college and of course studied surrealism in art and a little in literature. I've certainly been influenced by their influence on American poets like Bly and the poets he published.
AL: Lyn, when did you start writing? What was the drive, the catalyst that made it inevitable that you write?
LL: I started writing when, at 6; I skipped from first grade to third grade because I read at an advanced level. As a result, I never learned long division, was always lost in math. But I loved to read and write. An excellent teacher, Mrs. Flag, read us Longfellow and Keats and had us write our own poems. She would bring apple blossoms and boughs in and have us look and touch, smell and taste and then write our own poems. I have blue thin notebooks of poems from then many but the poem that I had to write is the one I remember best. I grew up in a small town, Middlebury, Vermont and we lived on Main Street. One weekend I copied a poem of Blake's we were reading him at the time. I showed it to my mother, told her I wrote it. In a town of 3000 it wasn't surprising my mother ran into that teacher, excited, said what an inspiration she had been, how I used words she didn't even know I knew. By Monday, I had to write my own poem and it had to have "rill," "nigh" and "descending," in it.
AL: In terms of literature and psychology, do you believe that your subconscious leads you when you write? What are your thoughts on the psychological aspects of writing, literature?
LL: I do think the subconscious is connected to what i write. I used to say once I wrote something it became true, then it happened. In some workshops I have had students use dreams and dream exercises, day dreaming to let poems be triggered. And I've often written poems based on dreams. I suppose many images come from the sub- conscious, the strangeness in some poems, the stories I have no idea where they came from, the surreal. The title poem of Black Apples is a poem called "The�Dream of Black Apples, War". Somehow it came quickly, quietly from a dream and anticipated much that did happen later. The connection is one that is fascinating. I recently read that the predisposition to suicide can be determined by the use of some pronouns over others. I always want to read more about how memory works especially after editing my collection of women's memoirs, Lips Unsealed. I think it is very tangled with the subconscious I don't think any of the arts is separate from it.
AL: What's your favorite curse-word?
LL: My favorite swear word is one I probably never used but would love to. In college my roommate, from Rochester, with a definite Rochester accent and knowledge of Yiddish was always trying to teach me phrases that were very stunning but I could never quite say them right I think. I loved one, it sounded like "Vergo Harvit" or something like that and it meant drop dead I think very piercing word sounded like what it meant. But I never quite got it right.
AL: Thank you very much for allowing me to conduct this interview. Do you have any thoughts you'd like to share before we conclude?
LL: Well one important thing to me is that everyone know if they don't that Black Sparrow Books now will be published by David Godine press as Black Sparrow/ David Godine Books their new spring catalogue is just out with their back list and my new book, Another Woman Who Looks Like Me, will be published by them soon. They can be reached at info@godine.com or info@blacksparrowpress.com phone is 800-344-4771 and fax is 800- 226-0934 and published recently is my new book from March Street Press and you can order that through Amazon.com or contact the publisher at rbixby@aol.com and still available is a documentary film about me called Lyn Lifshin: Not Made of Glass distributed by Women Make Movies. Telephone is 1-212-925-0606 Fax is 1-212-925-7002 and e mail is distdept@wmm.com. And my web site with lots of everything is www.lynlifshin.com
This interview originally appeared in the literary webzine, Tin
Lustre Mobile.
Meet Me In the Dark Caverns, Crying: Discovering SARK
by Kari Gunderson on Thursday, April 24, 2003 10:55 pm
ripe. juicy. whole. round. exuberant. wild. rich. wide. deep. firm. rare. female.
Succulent Wild Woman looked to me at first like a book for children with its hand painted figures and bright colours. So what was it doing in the Women's section of the metaphysical book store? Of course, the title was intriguing, and suggested something different all together.
I reached for it, flipped through and found this familiar tidbit, which I thought I remembered seeing as a poster somewhere, entitled How to Paint
Go on an art store adventure.
Buy smooth or nubbly paper -- whatever sings to your fingers. Tear it into odd-sized pieces.
Buy one brush.
Choose colours that you love in ink, watercolour, acrylic, oil, or fingerpaints.
Mix colours randomly or put directly onto paper.
Experiment. Keep going. Make more mistakes.
Laugh at what develops.
Put layers of colour on top of each other.
Tear the paper up if you don't like it.
Glue the pieces into the centre of the next picture.
See if it develops into anything.
Spill paint onto the paper.
Watch what forms next.
This is a painting.
You are a painter.
I wondered, Is it self-help or is it poetry? Either way, I loved it immediately because it's self-indulgent and that's a philosophy I try to live by. It's my aim to cover every possible indulgence in life, as often as still feels healthy, even if it has to be vicariously. SARK urges us to look for more places we can find or create more pleasure. My kinda woman!
So I bought the book, and I read it on the bus where I consistently had to suppress my urges to jump up and share snippets of rainbow-coloured brilliance with other commuters.
Practice extravagant lounging.
Investigate your dark places with a flashlight.
Invent your life over if it doesn't feel juicy.
Cradle your wounded places like precious babies.
Eat mangoes naked.
Lick the juice off your arms.
A SARK book is a journal. It's like reading someone's diary, with permission. They're filled with her splendidly imperfect doodles and watercoloured illustrations in eye-popping colours. She writes about holistic therapies, religions and alternative routes toward spirituality, relationships, sexuality, creative expression, fat, self-forgiveness, building better communities, and her numerous visits to magical healing places like Esalen in Big Sur, and Tassajara, a Zen Mountain Centre in San Francisco, and even Holly Hock in British Columbia.
She explores. Encourages us to explore. Try new things. See what we like. See what we're like.
At the end of each chapter, she makes suggestions for related readings and other resources like music or websites. I love and admire how she promotes other artists of every genre, or just everyday people she finds inspiring and writes little devotionals to them, like this one
She offers us scenarios by which to best enjoy her books:
In a shaft of sunlight, beside a bowl of oranges, barefoot.
In the bathtub with many candles and slices of mango.
In white cotton pyjamas, under a comforter with a cat sleeping in a circle.
Her books are handwritten, cover to cover. The only computer font or typesetting I could find was the ISBN number on the back. Each one feels like a gift directly from her to you, the reader.
The colours she uses to write in are very important also, and I find they can make it easier to get thru the rough and stormy spots, like when she's talking about having been a victim of incest, or about embarrassing stumblings toward self-acceptance.
SARK is a poet of sorts, but first of all she is human, a woman, and encourages us to "Make more mistakes." It's poetry to live by.
Other books by SARK that I own: Transformation Soup, and Eat Mangoes Naked.
Other books by SARK that I'm curious to try: Inspiration Sandwich, The Bodacious Book of Succulence, and Change Your Life Without Getting Out Of Bed.
Visit her on the world wide web at www.campsark.com or you can call her Inspiration Hot Line, 24 hours a day, at 415-546-3742. I've never called. But I might.
