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MONDAY, 25 SEPTEMBER, 2006
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Poem: "Coconut" by Paul Hostovsky from Bird in the Hand. © Grayson Books. Reprinted with permission.
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Coconut
Bear with me I
want to tell you
something about
happiness
it's hard to get at
but the thing is
I wasn't looking
I was looking
somewhere else
when my son found it
in the fruit section
and came running
holding it out
in his small hands
asking me what
it was and could we
keep it it only
cost 99 cents
hairy and brown
hard as a rock
and something swishing
around inside
and what on earth
and where on earth
and this was happiness
this little ball
of interest beating
inside his chest
this interestedness
beaming out
from his face pleading
happiness
and because I wasn't
happy I said
to put it back
because I didn't want it
because we didn't need it
and because he was happy
he started to cry
right there in aisle
five so when we
got home we
put it in the middle
of the kitchen table
and sat on either
side of it and began
to consider how
to get inside of it
Literary and Historical Notes:
On this day in 1789, the first Congress passed the Bill of Rights—12 amendments to the Constitution designed to protect the basic rights of U.S. citizens. Only the last 10 of the original 12 were ratified by the states, including the First Amendment, which includes freedom of religion, speech, the press, and public assembly.
It's the birthday of the poet and translator C. K. (Charles Kenneth) Scott-Moncrieff, (books by this author) born in Stirlingshire, Scotland (1889). He's best known for translating the work of Marcel Proust into English. He published the first volume of his translation, Swann's Way, in 1922, a few weeks before Proust's death. It was wildly successful in England, and the translation was hailed as one of the greatest translations of all time.
Scott-Moncrieff spent the rest of his life translating the remaining volumes, but he died before he finished the last one. Instead of translating the title literally as "In Search of Lost Time," he borrowed a line from one of Shakespeare's sonnets and called the multi-volume work "Remembrance of Things Past." His translation stood as the only translation of Proust's work in English for most of the 20th century.
It's the birthday of William (Cuthbert) Faulkner, (books by this author) born in New Albany, Mississippi (1897). He grew up listening to stories about his family, including several stories about his great-grandfather, a colonel in the Civil War, who once killed a man with a bowie knife and later killed another man who tried to avenge the first man's death. And then there were stories about Faulkner's father, who was once sitting in a drug store with a girl when the girl's spurned boyfriend walked in and shot Faulkner's father in the back with a shotgun. Somehow, Faulkner's father survived.
Aside from family lore, Faulkner's literary education came not from school but from an older friend named Phil Stone, who had gone to Yale. At that time, Faulkner had been reading Moby-Dick and Shakespeare, but it was Phil Stone who introduced him to modern literature like the works of James Joyce and Joseph Conrad.
After dropping out of high school, Faulkner spent several years trying to figure out what to do with himself. He went to the University of Mississippi for a year, where he got a D in his English class. He went to New York City, where he was fired from a job at a bookstore because he told the customers they were reading trash. Then he worked for a while at a post office, until he lost that job because he failed to deliver the mail and often closed down early to go golfing.
He published a book of poems and two relatively conventional novels, and then he met the writer Sherwood Anderson, who advised him to write about his hometown. So Faulkner began observing Oxford, Mississippi, more closely, and he began to invent an imaginary version of Oxford he called Jefferson, located in an imaginary county he called Yoknapatawpha.
He later said, "I discovered that my own little postage stamp of native soil was worth writing about and that I would never live long enough to exhaust it, and by sublimating the actual into apocryphal I would have complete liberty to use whatever talent I might have to its absolute top."
One of the first novels he wrote about his new imaginary landscape was The Sound and the Fury, about a wild young woman named Caddy Compson and her three brothers: Benjy, who is mentally handicapped; Quentin, who falls in love with her; and Jason, who feels she has ruined the family's name by getting pregnant out of wedlock.
Faulkner went on writing through the 1930s, but he never really broke through to popular success. By 1944, all but one of his books were out of print. But in 1945, Malcolm Cowley helped publish a Portable Faulkner edition, which brought attention back to his work. Then in 1949, he won the Nobel Prize for literature. All his books were brought back into print, and they have stayed in print ever since.
TUESDAY, 26 SEPTEMBER, 2006
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Poem: "Haywire" by George Bilgere from Haywire. © Utah State University Press. Reprinted with permission.
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Haywire
When I was a kid,
there was always someone old
living with my friends,
a small, gray person
from another century
who stayed in a back room
with a Bible and a bed with silver rails.
They were from a time before the time
the world just plain went haywire,
and even though nothing
made sense to them anymore,
they'd gotten used to it,
and walked around smiling vaguely
at the aliens ruining the galaxy
on the color console television,
or the British invasion
growing from the sides of our heads
in little transistorized boxes.
In the front room, by the light of tv,
we were just starting to get stoned,
and the girls were helping us
help them out of their jeans,
while in the back room
someone very tired
closed her eyes and watched
a wheat field where a boy
whose name she can't remember
is walking down a dusty road.
No sound
but the sound of crickets.
No satellites,
Or even headlights in the distance yet.
Literary and Historical Notes:
It was on this day in 1580 that Francis Drake docked his ship, the Golden Hind, at Plymouth, England, after circumnavigating the globe. He had left for the journey on December 13, 1577.
It's the birthday of T.S. (Thomas Stearns) Eliot, (books by this author) born into a prominent Unitarian family in Saint Louis (1888). He was fond of his childhood, and he liked to watch steamboats going up the Mississippi River. He adored his Irish nurse, Annie, who brought him to church and talked to him about God. He loved to read, especially the poetry of Edgar Allan Poe. He was a bird watcher and could identify more than 70 kinds of birds.
But he didn't have many friends as a boy, and he also had trouble making friends at Harvard, where he went to college. He joined some clubs and went to dances and parties here and there. He lifted weights to try to improve his appearance. But in the end, he remained somewhat of a recluse.
After Harvard, Eliot moved to England, where he got a job as a banker. He was a fastidious worker, arriving at 9:30 and leaving at 5:30 every day, working one Saturday every month. He ate lunch every day at the same restaurant, called Baker's Chop House. He met and married a 26-year-old ballet dancer named Vivienne Haigh-Wood. They had known each other for only three months, and didn't ever become completely comfortable with each other. They slept in separate rooms, and Eliot couldn't bring himself to shave in front of her. A few years into their marriage, he joined the Church of England and took a vow of chastity.
From a young age, Eliot wrote about moral decay and getting old and the hopelessness of life, and he expressed those feelings in his most famous poem, The Waste Land (1922), a long dark poem about the search for redemption in a post-World War I world.
After he divorced, Eliot had other women who loved him and wanted to marry him. Eliot said that living with a woman was a "nightmare" and something that didn't interest him. But when he was almost 70, he secretly married his 30-year-old secretary, Valerie.
Eliot and his wife were together all the time, and she made him very happy. He never left her side, and he wrote her a letter every week. They sat at home together, playing Scrabble over cheese and Scotch whiskey. His health was failing, but he brought her on a trip to the United States—to Texas and New York and Boston. They went out dancing at a boat party thrown by some Harvard students. He started telling practical jokes and became fond of whoopee cushions and exploding cigars. He wrote a fan letter to Groucho Marx, who wrote back, and the two became close pen pals.
Eliot said, "This last part of my life is the best, in excess of anything I could have deserved."
It's the birthday of Jane Smiley, born in Los Angeles (1949). She comes from a family of journalists and newspaper editors. As a young woman, she lived on a commune in the late '60s, leafleting and selling pro-labor newspapers at a local electronics factory. She then when off to travel around the world for a while with a backpack, a typewriter, and a banjo. But after a year of traveling, she got married and started a family, deciding to settle down and write.
She's best known for her novel A Thousand Acres (1991), which begins, "At sixty miles per hour, you could pass our farm in a minute."
It's the birthday of composer George Gershwin, born in Brooklyn, New York (1898). He made his name as a composer with the piece Rhapsody in Blue (1924), when he was just 26 years old.
WEDNESDAY, 27 SEPTEMBER, 2006
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Poem: "Things Shouldn't Be So Hard" by Kay Ryan from The Niagara River. © Grove Press. Reprinted with permission.
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Things Shouldn't Be So Hard
A life should leave
deep tracks:
ruts where she
went out and back
to get the mail
or move the hose
around the yard;
where she used to
stand before the sink,
a worn-out place;
beneath her hand
the china knobs
rubbed down to
white pastilles;
the switch she
used to feel for
in the dark
almost erased.
Her things should
keep her marks.
The passage
of a life should show;
it should abrade.
And when life stops,
a certain space—
however small—
should be left scarred
by the grand and
damaging parade.
Things shouldn't
be so hard.
Literary and Historical Notes:
It's the birthday of hardboiled crime novelist Jim Thompson, (books by this author) born in Anadarko, Oklahoma. He's best known for his novel The Killer Inside Me (1952) about a friendly, beloved sheriff who is also a serial killer.
Thompson grew up in a town full of cattle thieves, gunfighters, and bank robbers. His family lived in an apartment above the county jail, where his father worked as the local sheriff. As a young man, Jim was fascinated by the ways people disguised who they really were. He noticed that his father always acted stupid around strangers. He was shocked when his father was later charged with embezzling thousands of dollars from the state government. When Jim got a job as a hotel bellboy to support his mother and sisters, he had to look nice and act polite and carry bags, but he also helped the hotel guests find illegal liquor, drugs, and prostitutes.
He tried for seven years to get a high school diploma, working all night and going to school all day, but he finally dropped out and wandered around Texas, living as a hobo and working in the oil fields. One of his hobo friends encouraged him to write about his experiences, so he did. A year later he saw the article published in Texas Monthly magazine, and the editor encouraged him to submit more.
Thompson went on to publish crime novels like The Killer Inside Me (1952) and After Dark, My Sweet (1955). When he died in 1977, most of his books were out of print, but he told his wife to keep his manuscripts. He said, "Just you wait, I'll become famous after I'm dead about 10 years." About 10 years later, in the mid-1980s, all of his crime novels were republished. They are now considered classics of the crime genre.
It's the birthday of lawyer and novelist Louis Auchincloss, (books by this author) born in Lawrence, New York (1917). He is known for writing about the New York City upper class in books like Portrait in Brownstone (1962), A World of Profit (1968), and Diary of a Yuppie (1987).
He grew up in one of the most prestigious families in New York City, and spent his childhood in private schools and private clubs, surrounded by debutants and servants. When his father took him to Wall Street to introduce him to the business world, he was horrified by what he called, "those dark narrow streets and those tall sooty towers." He wanted to be a writer, but when his first novel was rejected, he decided he wasn't cut out for the literary life and became a lawyer.
He finally published his first book, The Indifferent Children, in 1947. In 1951, Auchincloss quit his job as a lawyer because, he said, "[I wanted to] find out, once and for all, what I am." After three years of writing for a living, he found that he preferred the security of his job at the law firm. He worked as a lawyer, writing fiction in his spare time, from 1954 until his retirement from law in 1986. He has now published almost 30 books of fiction, most recently The Young Apollo and Other Stories (2006).
It's the birthday of the poet Kay Ryan, (books by this author) born in San Jose, California (1945). She grew up in a series of small towns along the California desert. Her father was always trying to come up with schemes to make the family money, selling Christmas trees and buying land mining operations. He died while reading a get-rich-quick book.
Kay Ryan decided to become a professional poet a few months before her 30 birthday, when she went on a cross-country bike trip. She was somewhere in the middle of Colorado when the rhythmic movement of pedaling her bike got her thinking about the rhythms of poetry, and she suddenly realized that she wanted to devote her life to poetry.
She's since published several books of poetry, including Dragon Acts to Dragon Ends (1983), Flamingo Watching (1994), and Say Uncle (2000).
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Poem: "Messenger" by Mary Oliver from Thirst.© Beacon Press. Reprinted with permission.
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Literary and Historical Notes:
It was on this day in 1066 that William the Conqueror of Normandy arrived on British soil. He defeated the British in the Battle of Hastings, and on Christmas Day, he was crowned King of England in Westminster Abbey.
One of the most important consequences of the Norman conquest of England was its effect on the English language. At the time, the British were speaking a combination of Saxon and Old Norse. The Normans spoke French. Over time, the languages blended, and the result was that English became a language incredibly rich in synonyms. Because the French speakers were aristocrats, the French words often became the fancy words for things. The Saxons had "house"; the Normans gave us "mansion." The Saxons had "cow"; the Normans gave us "beef." The Normans gave us "excrement," for which the Saxons had lots of four letter words. The English language has gone on accepting additions to its vocabulary ever since the Norman invasion, and it now contains more than a million words, making it one of the most diverse languages on Earth.It's the birthday of John Sayles, (books by this author) born in Schenectady, New York (1950). He's one of a few writers who have gone on to become a successful filmmakers. His first novel, Pride of the Bimbos (1975), is about five men who make a living playing exhibition baseball games dressed as women. He went on to publish his second novel, Union Dues (1977), and a collection of stories, The Anarchists' Convention (1979), both of which got great reviews. But Sayles was also interested in the movies, and he got his first screenwriting job on a horror movie called Piranha (1978). He said, "My whole job was to contrive a reason why people, once they hear there are piranhas in the river, don't just stay out of the river but end up getting eaten. That's basically what they paid me $10,000 for." Sayles has gone to write and direct his own movies, including Matewan (1987), Passion Fish (1992), and Lone Star (1996).
It's the birthday of cartoonist Al Capp, (books by this author) born Alfred Gerald Caplin in New Haven, Connecticut (1909). He created the cartoon strip Li'l Abner, about a hillbilly named Abner Yokum who lived in the fictional town of Dogpatch, Kentucky. The strip ran from 1934 to 1977.
It's the birthday of Kate Douglas Wiggin, (books by this author) born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania (1856). She wrote Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm (1910).
It's the birthday of Ed Sullivan, born in New York City (1902). He was a gossip columnist who went on to become one of the first hosts of a national television show in America. The Ed Sullivan Show, originally called Toast of the Town, premiered live on CBS in 1948, and within a few years about 50 million people watched it every Sunday night. His formula was, "Open big, have a good comedy act, put in something for children, and keep the show clean."
FRIDAY, 29 SEPTEMBER, 2006
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Poem: "Gray's First Sober Year" by William Notter from More Space Than Anyone Can Stand. © Texas Review Press. Reprinted with permission.
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Gray's First Sober Year
This new life is better
than a dozen beer-joint romances
or a hundred drunks at fishing camp.
My habit now is not drinking,
and waking up where I belong.
I can see colors again,
and I don't feel like a turd in the punchbowl
whenever I go around people.
I'll mow the weeds for Sharon
and almost enjoy it. She's even given up
checking my breath whenever I come home.
I went shopping for our anniversary
and wound up crying in the store,
but not the kind of tears you cry
when your wife catches you lying in the shed
with your pistol jabbed up in your mouth
and vodka running out your nose.
The only thing she could think to do
was check me into another detox,
and this time it finally took.
This year has made me different—
vodka could never do that for long.
Some days when I wake up early
and listen to Sharon lying there breathing,
it feels like somebody snuck in while we slept
and changed our sheets.
Literary and Historical Notes:
Today is believed to be the birthday of the man who's generally credited with inventing the modern novel, Miguel de Cervantes, (books by this author) born near Madrid (1547). He was one of the unluckiest authors in the history of Western literature. In 1570 he enlisted in the army in order to help fight back the invasion of the Ottoman-Turkish Empire. He fought bravely in a battle off the coast of Greece, even though he was shot twice in the chest and once in his left hand. The battle was a victory, and he became a war hero, receiving special recognition from the king.
Unfortunately, he and a group of other military men were captured by Algerian pirates on the way home from the war. They were held for ransom in North Africa for five years. Cervantes led four escape attempts and all four attempts failed. As punishment for his escape attempts, he was chained to a wall for months at a time. When he was finally ransomed and returned to Spain, Cervantes assumed that since he was a famous war hero, he would have no trouble getting government work when he got back to Spain. But nobody even remembered the battle he had fought in. The Spanish economy was in terrible shape, and it was nearly impossible to find a decent job. So he began writing plays. He knew he had to work quickly in order to make his name, and so in the course of just a few years, he managed to produce more than 30 plays. But not one of Cervantes's plays was a success. As a desperate measure, he took a terrible job as a kind of a tax collector. He had to travel around the countryside in all kinds of weather, arguing with shopkeepers and farmers, enduring accusations of corruption everywhere he went. Even priests hated him. He was excommunicated by half a dozen churches. He was in his 50s, barely supporting his family, unhappy in his marriage, and failing to achieve success as a playwright or poet. Then in 1595, he got caught up in a financial scandal. He was charged with embezzlement, even though historians believe that he was probably one of the only honest employees working for the government at the time. Having escaped five years of captivity in Africa, Cervantes now found himself imprisoned in his own country for a crime he didn't commit. Cervantes later wrote that it was during that time in the Royal Prison of Sevilla that he first had the idea for his masterpiece, Don Quixote (1605). He conceived of it as a parody of the chivalric romance genre, which was popular at the time. And so Cervantes invented the character of Don Quixote, a middle-aged man who has read so many romances that he comes to believe they are true. He embarks upon a career as a knight, fighting for righteousness and for the love of his lady, Dulcinea del Toboso, who is actually a peasant wench. He takes as his squire a farmer he knows named Sancho Panza, and the two go off to engage in jousts with windmills. The first volume of the novel was a best-seller, but unlucky as always, Cervantes didn't make much money from it. There was no copyright at the time, and pirated editions were published all over Europe. Miguel de Cervantes said, "Too much sanity may be madness, and the maddest of all, to see life as it is and not as it should be."SATURDAY, 30 SEPTEMBER, 2006
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Poem: "Exercise" by W.S. Merwin from Migration: New and Selected Poems. Copper Canyon Press. Reprinted with permission
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Exercise
First forget what time it is
for an hour
do it regularly every day
then forget what day of the week it is
do this regularly for a week
then forget what country you are in
and practice doing it in company
for a week
then do them together
for a week
with as few breaks as possible
follow these by forgetting how to add
or to subtract
it makes no difference
you can change them around
after a week
both will help you later
to forget how to count
forget how to count
starting with your own age
starting with how to count backward
starting with even numbers
starting with Roman numerals
starting with fractions of Roman numerals
starting with the old calendar
going on to the old alphabet
going on to the alphabet
until everything is continuous again
go on to forgetting elements
starting with water
proceeding to earth
rising in fire
forget fire
Literary and Historical Notes:
It was on this day in 1452 that the first section of the Gutenberg Bible was published in Mainz, Germany. It was the first book ever printed with movable type, Gutenberg's revolutionary idea. At the time, all existing books were copied out by hand, and in order to be as efficient as possible, scribes had developed a way of writing that was full of abbreviations. Words were written in a dense cursive script, and there was very little space between letters or even words on the page.
It was Gutenberg's genius to imagine an entirely different way of writing, in which all the individual letters would be distinct from each other, rather than connected. That way, he could produce individual blocks with letters on them. He fitted these letter blocks into a frame, coated them with an ink made of linseed oil and soot, and then used an adapted wine press to print text on paper. The revolutionary effect of movable type was the ability to print an infinite number of pages from a small number of letter blocks simply by rearranging them. Within three decades there were print shops all over the European continent. It is estimated that more books were produced in the 50 years after Gutenberg's invention than scribes had been able to produce in the 1,000 years before that. Today, about four dozen copies of the Gutenberg Bible survive. One of the most recent copies to come on the market was auctioned in New York in 1987. It consisted of only the first volume, but it was in good condition, and it sold at auction for more than five million dollars.It's the anniversary of the first edition of Louisa May Alcott's (books by this author) Little Women in 1868. Her real passion was for dark and sensational stories with brilliant, diabolical woman protagonists. But her father, Bronson Alcott, pressured his daughter to write a children's book. She took her father's advice, reluctantly, and Little Women was so popular that she wrote two sequels, Little Men (1871) and Jo's Boys (1886).
It's the birthday of poet W.S. Merwin, born in New York City (1927). He said, "I think there's a kind of desperate hope built into poetry now that one really wants, hopelessly, to save the world. One is trying to say everything that can be said for the things that one loves while there's still time."
It's the birthday of American writer Truman Capote, (books by this author) born Truman Persons in New Orleans (1924). He was the son of a salesman and a 16-year-old beauty queen. He moved to New York City to be near his mother as a boy and applied to the prestigious Trinity School. He was given an IQ test as an entrance exam, and he scored 215, the highest in the school's history. When he was 17, he dropped out of school and got a job as an errand boy in the art department at The New Yorker magazine. He published his first novel, Other Voices, Other Rooms (1948), when he was just 24 years old.
SUNDAY, 1 OCTOBER, 2006
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Poem: "Grapefruit" Ted McMahon from The Uses of Imperfection. © Cat 'n Dog Productions. Reprinted with permission.
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Grapefruit
My grandfather got up early to section grapefruit.
I know because I got up quietly to watch.
He was tall. His hairless shins stuck out
below his bathrobe, down to leather slippers.
The house was quiet, sun just up, ticking of
the grandfather clock tall in the corner.
The grapefruit were always sectioned just so,
nestled in clear nubbled bowls used
for nothing else, with half a maraschino
centered bleeding slowly into
soft pale triangles of fruit.
It was special grapefruit, Indian River,
not to be had back home.
Doves cooed outside and the last night-breeze
Rustled the palms against the eaves.
He turned to see me, pale light flashing
off his glasses
and smiled.
I remember as I work my knife along the
membrane separating sections.
It's dawn. The doves and palms are far away.
I don't use cherries anymore.
The clock is digital
and no one is watching.
Literary and Historical Notes:
It's the birthday of author Tim O'Brien, born in Worthington, Minnesota. He was the son of an insurance salesman and an elementary school teacher. He was a loner as a kid and spent most of his time practicing magic tricks in the mirror. One day, he stumbled on some clippings of articles that his father had published in The New York Times about fighting in Iwo Jima and Okinawa. He'd never known that his father had been a writer, and the discovery made him want to write too.
But when he went to college, he decided to go into politics instead. He participated in peace vigils and protest marches, and he majored in political science. He hoped to join the state department and become a governmental opponent of war. When he graduated, he applied to Harvard University, but that summer he got drafted to fight in Vietnam. When he learned that he would be assigned to the infantry, he thought it was a mistake. He said, "Even when I was getting on the plane for boot camp, I couldn't believe any of it was happening to me, someone who hated Boy Scouts and bugs and rifles." Before he went off to Vietnam, he was spending the day in northern Minnesota and had the chance to cross the border into Canada, but he decided not to. He hated every minute of his experience in Vietnam, but by the end of his tour, he had published several articles about his experience in newspapers. O'Brien said that the transition back to civilian life was more abrupt than he could have imagined. He said, "They process you out of the army in about two hours—say the pledge of allegiance, get in a taxicab, get on a plane, take off your uniform in the toilet, and fly to Minnesota. It was over, in a day and a half—from Vietnam, to Seattle, to Minnesota. It was fast and effortless, just like gliding out of a nightmare." O'Brien had never taken a journalism class or a writing workshop in his life, but he got a job at The Washington Post and then quickly published a memoir of his experiences in Vietnam called If I Die in a Combat Zone, Box Me Up and Ship Me Home (1973). Since then, most of his books have dealt with Vietnam in one way or another. He said, "In a war story there is a built-in life and death importance, one that a writer would have to construct otherwise. When you start a story saying, 'It was a hot day,' and you know it's a war story, the hot day has all sorts of reverberations that wouldn't be there if it were set on a beach in Miami." O'Brien is perhaps best known for his book The Things They Carried (1990), a series of linked short stories about a group of soldiers in Vietnam, including a soldier named Tim O'Brien. The title story, which begins the collection, is among the most widely anthologized short stories in contemporary American literature. "The Things They Carried" begins, "First Lieutenant Jimmy Cross carried letters from a girl named Martha, a junior at Mount Sebastian College in New Jersey. They were not love letters, but Lieutenant Cross was hoping, so he kept them folded in plastic at the bottom of his rucksack. In the late afternoon, after a day's march, he would dig his foxhole, wash his hands under a canteen, unwrap the letters, hold them with the tips of his fingers, and spend the last hour of light pretending." O'Brien is also the author of Tomcat in Love (1998) and July, July (2002). O'Brien said, "Stories are for those late hours in the night when you can't remember how you got from where you were to where you are. Stories are for eternity, when memory is erased, when there is nothing to remember but the story."
Be well, do good work, and keep in touch®.
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