PoetryMagazine.com
Since 1996
Poetry Reviews
By Grace Cavalieri
In memory, this poem from "The Lost Pilot" written in honor of his father.
My head cocked toward the sky,
I cannot get off the ground,
and, you, passing over again,
fast, perfect, and unwilling
to tell me that you are doing
well, or that it was mistake
that placed you in that world,
and me in this; or that misfortune
placed these worlds in us.
Denise Levertov. A Poet’s Life
by Dana Green.
University of Illinois Press.
229 pages.
"reprinted from The Washington Independent Review of Books"
Levertov is remembered as a political poet who believed that poets should be
active in the
world; she lived this. She was a game-changer when few other women poets were
writing
about American foreign policy and our country’s internal combustions. She was
among the
most prominent voices throughout the 1960’s anti-war movements; and, while a
peace activist
and demonstrator, her poetry never suffered. Levertov took on the Viet Nam war
and Iraqi war
as Mary Wollstonecraft did the French and American Revolutions
DL exceeds our imagination because she is such a self-created myth. Biographer
Green unlayers
a life showing how every move was structured to build a monument of her own
thoughts
through poetry. This was a woman who was a poet first (mother, wife next) since
she only
understood the world by what she wrote. She attempted to apply rational thought
to an
emotional life and this made her a meta-thinker and writer but never at peace
with
relationships. Dozens of poems address strategic questions about our society,
elevated to
statuesque language –not easy to convert public issues to prosody. In later
life, she turned to
religious questions, and lyricism deepened.
Levertov’s personal life – eros, pathos – was self-absorption to high art. DL
was also a rolodex
of psychological disorders, not your sweet sister. She was arrogant and needed
to be adored by
men. She was critical; and yet unable to take criticism: “exacting and
inflexible;” “bossy and
demanding;” “she lacked sympathy for people.” This biography shows a great
talent within a
prison of need for approbation. Sex was one way she found assurance. This may
describe any
number of poets but DL is significant because, as poet Roland Flint said, “The
work is all” and
she was, and remains a major figure—industrial-strength, even today. Dana Green
proves to us
that DL’s work is essential in the development of American poetics. Although
Levertov was a
woman who rationed mercy to people, her poetry is merciful and compassionate.
She did not like the language poets.
She was homophobic.
She craved orthodoxy.
She struggled with American cadence and her English phraseology.
Yet we can see DL as a corrective to the poetry of the 50’s, with its inwardly
confessional bent.
The Cultural Revolution brought her poetic power to full force. She was a
risk-taker, a rule
breaker, but her poetry was classical in form. She had an intellect to match the
dynamic of the
greatest minds of our time.
DL’s stridence is what disturbed the order of her life. Yet, the friends she
chose for their loyalty
were lifelong companions and were with her until her dying moments in 1997. Some
she
fastened forever: Carolyn Kiser and Lucille Clifton, James Laughlin, Sam Hamill,
Robert Creeley,
Al Young, Eavan Boland. Galway Kinnell, among them.
It was not her contemporaries’ opinions DL sought. She needed to define herself
by thinking
her way through philosophers, spiritual leaders and then write of her
metamorphosis. She
longed for the union promised by God, but lacked the luck of faith; so she tried
to think, study,
and argue her way to Heaven. Faith is actually just skipping all the questions,
but that was not
her way. She was born into a family of Hebrew scholarship and needed liturgical
conviction
through compelling ideas. She converted to Catholicism in later years.
As DL’s public trajectory put her at the top of poets in the 60’s-90’s, her
personal life left a few
broken people in its path like a son who could never be reconciled and some
poets who
differed from her. I believe her rant against Lesbians was to provide a
plausible deniability for
her very stern stuff.
John Felsteiner said “…she was a unique presence because more than any other
poet (sic)
since Yeats had everything come together in an organic whole poetry, religion,
history and
politics, the natural world and people.” Greene ends the book with this Levertov
quote: “Not
farewell, not farewell but faring// forth into the grace of transformed/
continuance.”
Biography cannot easily summarize this woman yet Greene seems to distill DL’s
actions and
behavior as a result of original rejection which sought fullness through
writing. The purpose of
our wounds is to show where the hurt is; and, their value? Time is deciding well
for Denise
Levertov. This biography makes clear the strivings and benefactions of Denise
Levertov’s life
and work; and we are the better for it.
_______________________
Grace Cavalieri celebrates 38 years on-air with “The Poet and the Poem” on
public radio, now from the
Library of Congress. Her new books of poems (2014) are” The Man Who Got Away”
and “The Mandate of
Heaven.”
A look at Mayakovsky: A Biography by Bengt Jangfeldt
Seventeen-hundred grams of genius. That’s what Vladimir Mayakovsky’s brain
weighed after his death in 1930 from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. His brain
weighed 360 grams more than Lenin’s, “a bit of a headache for the ideologues of
the Brain Institute.”
There’s no other chronicle of a Russian-born poet so richly detailed as Mayakovsky:
A Biography (University of Chicago Press). Swedish author Bengt
Jangfeldt researched materials never seen before to give a full account of the
“Futurist” poet’s private life and public turmoil.
The book stayed by my fireplace most of the winter waiting for its (sometimes)
five-page-a-day reading. Friends would walk in and say, “Hmm. Mayakovsky’s still
here.”
The book’s fascinating, for sure, but the complexity of Russian politics before
World War I is a lot to unscramble for someone who knew nothing of the power
factions except the Bolsheviks — and no less complicated are the love affairs,
marriages, abortions, betrayals, trysts, and suicides.
The book is a maelstrom of free love that makes Haight-Ashbury look virtuous.
Jangfeldt traces all the (many) female relationships that influenced
Mayakovsky’s art and life. The poet began as a lyricist, with love and idealism
at the center of his work, although his poetic form was far different from
classical antecedents.
He broke from tradition to create new phraseology on the page. Remember what
Russian art looked like with Dadaists and deconstructionists leading the way?
Americans got their first look at this new art in NYC’s 1913 Armory Show. Old
molds were broken to create new forms, and this influenced the writing of
American poets.
Mayakovsky entered the scene as a young art student in filthy clothes, with
rotting, yellow teeth, carrying his own drinking cup because of germ phobia.
From this, he rose to enter the monied class of aristocrats and artists,
scrubbed up and supported, initially, by the married couple Osip and Lili Brik.
(In fact, he was the third party in this marriage — an unusual arrangement for
even today’s most liberal thinkers. In a triangle, there’s always an odd man
out; in this case, it was not Mayakovsky.)
Why do I speak about sexual gossip at the book’s core? Because romantic turmoil
fueled the art — the source and context for Mayakovsky’s writing — even during
the time he turned his work over to the state for Lenin’s approval.
Conflicts, internal and external, finally took a toll on Mayakovsky’s life, and
he died at age 36. There’s conjecture that his death was a murder and not
suicide; the bullet didn’t match the gun, and two shots were heard. It’s still
unresolved.
Mayakovsky wanted to be a part of his country’s restoration. He wrote
utilitarian poetry for “the cause,” saving his finer art for the stage, screen,
and page. He was a spokesman for the Communists, spilling out propaganda and
didactic materials.
We have a confounding view of a man who never actually joined the Communist
Party but wanted its support, love, and protection — a friend with benefits.
This sounds reductive but shows the riddle that was the man, and a metaphor to
better understand his life.
He spoke at rallies and became the voice of the Revolution. He was a member of
the “Left Front of the Arts,” editing its journal, LEF. Mayakovsky was a unique
individualist now preaching for artists to abandon individualism to make the
arts better for communism!
Although Stalin appreciated “futurism” far less than Lenin did, Mayakovsky
enjoyed privileges and was allowed to travel to European countries as well as
Mexico, Cuba, and the U.S. Among Mayakovsky’s books is My
Discovery of America.
In 1921, Mayakovsky had an affair with the artist Liya Lavinskaya, who then gave
birth to his son. The son grew up to become a sculptor of the state. In 1925,
while visiting America, Mayakovsky met a Russian émigré and, after a brief
affair, Elly Jones gave birth to a daughter, Patricia J. Thompson.
Thompson ultimately became a professor at Lehman College in New York City; she
wrote the book Mayakovsky in Manhattan about her parents’ love affair.
Thompson waited for Perestroika before revealing her identity. Her mother had
kept this secret, especially after Trotsky’s murder in 1940. Emigrés had much to
fear from the long arm of Soviet reprisal.
The book concludes at the Reign of Terror sweeping the Soviet Union in the
mid-1930s. Socialist Realism was then the only “viable literary form.”
Mayakovsky and Gorky were “its leading exponents.” Boris Pasternak survived the
purges — and, thankfully, so did his Doctor
Zhivago —
but Soviet authorities forbade Pasternak to accept the Nobel Prize in 1958.
Joseph Brodsky is mentioned briefly; American poets regard him as a
contemporary. Before immigrating to America, he spent seven years in a Soviet
Labor Camp for using folkloric language rather than state-assigned rhetoric.
Jangfeldt’s Mayakovsky: A Biography is a history book with characters we
care about: Anna Akhmatova, Marcel Duchamp, Maxim Gorky, Sergey Diaghilev, Osip
Mendelstam, and dozens more who shaped culture under a terrifying regime. And as
for the writers? Some cooperated. Others expired.
Grace Cavalieri is producer of “The Poet and the Poem from the Library of
Congress.” Her latest books are The
Man Who Got Away (newacademia)
and The
Mandate of Heaven (Bordighera).
F/Poems/ Franz
Wright. Alfred
A. Knopf. 79 pgs.
Reviewed by Grace Cavalieri
You know the “there” no one wants to go? Prepare yourself to go with Wright’s
new book. I am always waiting for a new poem from Franz Wright. Who tasked him,
before he was born, to come and take on every feeling known to us, sacrificing
himself to the gustatory pain of existence, so we, and poetry, could be more
vulnerable: i.e. the human side of language. This could be the source of
passion—an abhorrence of the past leaving nothing possible but a faith in the
future. Is the nervous system able to take this reconciliation? The book opens
with the poem Four In The Morning.
Wind from the stars.
The world is uneasily happy—
everything will be forgotten.
The bird I‘ve never seen
sang its brainless head off;
same voice, same hour, until
I woke and closed my eyes.
There it stood again:
wood’s edge, and depression’s
deepening
shade inviting me in
saying
No one is here.
No one was there
to be ashamed of me.
And so the tone is set and page by page from the land of silence a lucidity so
compelling that we close our eyes from astonishing moment to astonishing moment.
From Section lll, the poem Learning To Read: “ If I had to look up every
fifth or sixth word/ so what. I looked them up./ I had nowhere more important to
be. // My father was unavailable, and my mother/ looked like she was about to
break, /and not into blossom, each time I spoke.// My favorite was The Illiad. True,/
I had trouble pronouncing the names; but when was I going to pronounce them,
and// to whom?/ My stepfather maybe?/ Number one, he could barely speak
English—// two he had sufficient cause/ to smirk or attack/ without prompting
from me.// Loneliness boredom and fear/ my motivation/ fiercely fueled.// I get
down on my knees and thank God for them.// Du Fu, The Psalms, Whitman,
Rilke./Life has taught me/ to understand books
I especially like the fifteen-page poem, Entries of the Cell with
Wright’s restless expansion of form—single phrases, the gift of space, long
paragraphed stanzas—an outpouring he so handsomely leashes. Part of this is
conjecture about the speaker’s name as he roams hospitals, bombed out
churches, rooming houses, ‘lower depth rehabs.’ The poem finds the letter F in
an old notebook:
…
It’s a capital F that takes up a whole page
My name, or grade in life?
…
Who names their child Franz and throws him to the boys of
American grade schools?
Franz. It would make a good name for a dog. Some retired
Shepherd, perhaps…
…
In this contemplation, one more thing could be added— that the poem itself is
the meaning of eternity on earth with an awakening every new word of its
writing. We are grateful that the person who has been tasked to say the most is
the most earnestly accurate to the task.
In Ten
Windows: How Great Poems Transform the World,
author Jane Hirshfield asks, “What do these words want of me?”
What does this book want of the reader?
The book tells us to see clearly with 10 essays that are “windows.” Many of the
truths come from Hirshfield’s blood memory; others, from a life lived within an
intensely emotional, intellectually ordered world.
Each chapter is a tiny universe of subliminal ideas turned to thought, with
poems used as illustrations. The purpose is not to popularize poetry but to
guide deeper appreciations, and when the book is done, it is obvious that
Hirshfield can change our knowledge for the better.
Every chapter answers a big question, so Ten Windows becomes an existence
that stays after the reading. Chapter one is about seeing through language,
hearing through language, centering on Gerard Manley Hopkins‘s poetry.
Chapter two is about the cycle of destruction and repair becoming the “writer’s
despair” and, also, the greatest gift. Chapter three is an introduction to
haiku. (Hirshfield is knowledgeable in the field, having brought our great haiku
writers to public attention.) Chapter four is about “the Hidden,” concentrating
on the “underwater portion” of a poem’s life.
Chapter six is titled “Close Reading: Windows”: “Every poem — every work of
art — is already working when considered as a whole, as a kind of window: art is
a way to release our attention from immediacy’s grip into gestures that
encompass, draw from, and remind of more expansive constellations and
connection.” Hirshfield calls this “an enlarged intimacy.”
Ten chapters of diverse subjects — each is discrete in form and content. You can
enjoy any part out of sequence. Pick the book up in the middle; it’s okay,
because the book’s dynamic is Hirshfield’s intellectual and technical skill
bringing harmony to the range of topics. She gives high energy to understanding
the quantum field of poetry.
Poems are used to invoke new ways to listen to “the word,” with philosophical
principles from science, history, and literature as reasonable accommodations.
The book is a perfect course in poetry. I’d love to teach a chapter a week for
10 weeks.
Grace Cavalieri produces “The Poet and the Poem from the Library of Congress”
for public radio. She recently received the Washington Independent Review of
Books’ first-ever lifetime achievement award.
All reprinted from the Washington Independent Review of Books.