Could I ever "have gone on the road" so to speak? Poets have a
"road" as well as singers and musicians. I learned about it in college,
but struggling on the GI Bill and having married with a kid on the way
never seriously considered it. But had I not married could I have
gone? I have been reading Kathleen Spivack's /With Robert Lowell and
his Circle, /published 2012. Lowell was obviously "on it" as were
Sylvia Plath, Ted Hughes, Anne Sexton and little Kathleen. I've never
read any of Spivack's poetry, don't really expect much from it but
ordered one of her collections just to see. How can I assume something
like that, that though she went on the road and became a successful poet
that her poetry won't be great, perhaps not even very good? She says,
in effect, in her book, that becoming a "great poet" is to a great
extent about "celebrity." You needn't be a major poet who writes "major
poems" to be successful. You just need to become a celebrity like
Lowell, Plath and Sexton.
Lowell before having one of his breakdowns would engage in
something Spivack writes as one of his "'mirror, mirror, mirror on the
wall. Who is the greatest poet of them all' monologues." Spivack
doesn't give the impression that she was interested in being one, one
who presumed to write great poetry, poetry like Elizabeth Bishop wrote.
Once Lowell asked his class whether they thought Elizabeth Bishop was a
major or minor poet. He loved Bishop and loved her poetry but,
reluctantly, rated her not-quite-major.
Kathleen Spivack was the daughter of Austrians Peter and Doris
Drucker. They fled Austria when they had to and Kathleen was born in
1938 (I think after they got here, but I may be wrong about the date).
Peter was a mathematician, renowned in Austria and before too long
became renowned in America. He wanted his daughter to become a
scientist, but she failed all her science classes "on purpose." Peter
didn't understand English well enough to appreciate poetry but when
Kathleen published her first poem in a major magazine, Peter was
delighted and showed the poem to his colleagues. He was very proud of
her accomplishment, and Kathleen seems to be the same way. She seems
prouder of the fact that she studied under Lowell, became his friend and
confident, and played ping pong with Elizabeth Bishop than she is about
her poetry. She isn't crass about it, but she values celebrity as did
her mathematician father and, perhaps, as do all those who "go on the road."
Of course "going on the road" doesn't mean that you _can't_ be a
"major poet," in Lowell's terms, but I've often wondered about Lowell in
those same terms - that is, is he himself a major poet? In the past I
thought not, but all that celebrity, as seen in articles by PhD's making
names for themselves by writing books about him, I succumbed and began
reading more of his stuff, much as I've just started reading more by the
celebrity-poet Ted Hughes (here in the U.S., I recently read, critics
don't like Hughes' stuff, but back in England they think him wonderful,
and if there was any problem with his marriage to that American blond
Hughes-groupie, it was sure to be her fault).
Interestingly Hughes liked Anne Sexton better than he did Sylvia
Plath. Anne was the standout poet (partly because she was the
best-looking perhaps -- this isn't a slur. Spivack assisted him in the
selection of students for his classes and he admitted this to her. His
female students needed to be good looking) in his class. Plath
according to Hughes, died before she had written more than five really
good poems and so can never be considered major. Anne Sexton was doing
well with her ground-breaking confessional stuff, but she never grew
beyond it which was a great disappointment to Lowell.
Kathleen Spivack lists names of poets from time to time, names of
people she considers to be "fine poets," and perhaps they are, so I'm
sending for a few of the books she considers exceptionally fine. How
after all can I trust my own views about such matters? I started college
after I had been a Sergeant in the Marine Corps. How could such a
person bow the knee like Spivack did and follow some celebrity deemed
(by critics who followed those on the road) great, someone like Lowell?
I simply had the wrong attitude -- probably still do.
Lawrence
On 2/12/2016 9:58 AM, Lionpainter wrote:
My dear friend is grieving the loss of his marriage to his life work and there was no other way for me to try to give him hope, but this. I thought I'd share.
The Troubadour's Life
This season sheers the skin as
Love meets winter's freeze.
The ice crystals deepen
On the frozen lakes and rigid trees.
This sleeping season creates
The mirror of sky stilled
Where one can walk on water.
But Thaw will come.
You sing her in your eyes and life,
Your love for her has been your shield
And torch these many years.
As other's wish to God they
Had the love of such
A sunshine man,
But they don't endure the loss
When he leaves to spread his wares.
The Troubadour is off again
To Cast his art upon the world.
Tis hard to be the mate
Of the Troubadour
And lose to Mistress songs
Of heart and road.
This path has always been a
Curse, a blessing
For the sake of art,
For the magic songs
Of worlds he designs.
Beloved Troubadour.
Be patient and time will
Make life warm again.
SLHR©2016
Sherrie in Wake Forest NC
This winter day
