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Travis Nichols

Nocturne at High Noon. And the National Book Award Goes to . . .

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From a list of the most interesting list of of finalists ever (so says Ron Silliman), the National Book Award judges picked Keith Waldrop’s Transcendental Studies: A Trilogy (UC Press) as this year’s winner.

Waldrop, a fixture of the poetry world of Providence, Rhode Island, has been celebrated as a translator (most recently of Baudelaire’s Les Fleurs du Mal) and as a publisher, with his wife Rosmarie, of Burning Deck Press.

Transcendental Studies: A Trilogy is made up of three long poem sequences that mix philosophy and poetry in a style familiar to readers of Waldrop’s fourteen other collections.

“These powerful poems,” says his publisher, “at once metaphysical and personal, reconcile Waldrop’s romantic tendencies with formal experimentation, uniting poetry and philosophy and revealing him as a transcendentalist for the new millennium.”

Publisher’s Weekly called the collection “entrancing” and the Providence Sunday Journal said it’s “a complex, absorbing work.”

The National Book Award judges said: “If transcendental immanence were possible, it would be because Keith Waldrop had invented it; he’s the only one who could—and in Transcendental Studies he has. These three linked series achieve a fusion arcing from the Romantic to the Postmodern that demonstrates language’s capacity to go to extremes—and to haul daily lived experience right along with it: life imitates language, and when language becomes these poems, life itself gets more various, more volatile, more vital.”

Pennsound has a large collection of Waldrop recordings up for those who want deep immersion into the transcendental experience.

For anyone else who just wants a taste of the celebration, here’s a short clip from St. Mark’s Poetry Project.

Have the NBAs transcended?  Has this award gone to a notably different poet than it has in the past (2008: Mark Doty; 2007: Robert Hass; 2006: Nathaniel Mackey)?

Travis Nichols

Fall and All

Fall is here, which means ponderous Hollywood movies, funky potpourri, [W]ild [T]urkey, and of course, new bloggers on Harriet!

Today, we say our goodbyes to Joel Brouwer, Rebecca Wolff, and Eileen Myles.  They’ve done a wonderful job here on the blog, and we hope they’ll come back from time to time to share a thought or two.  From everyone here, let me offer a hearty thanks for your dedication and service.  Huzzah!

I know.  It is sad.  But all is not lost!  We still have Barbara Jane Reyes, Abigail Deutsch, and Tonya Foster to help transition us to this new season.  And!  We have five new great bloggers starting, well, right now, today:

Travis Nichols

Poetry Reading

Molly Young and David Noriega read Michael Gizzi’s New Depths of Deadpan.

Travis Nichols

Jim Carroll, R.I.P.

Jim Carroll—poet, novelist, musician, diarist, impresario—died on Friday at his home in Manhattan. He was 60 years old.

The tributes and reminisces have come in from various sources–from English footballers to New York musicians to everyday readers–all noting what a tremendous presence Carroll was both onstage and off.

*

The New York Times:

“’I met him in 1970, and already he was pretty much universally recognized as the best poet of his generation,’ the singer Patti Smith said in a telephone interview on Sunday. ‘The work was sophisticated and elegant. He had beauty.’

*

Tom Clark:

“Jim had by that time already begun haunting the Poetry Project at St. Mark’s in the Bowery Church. He loved the poetry of Frank O’Hara, and writing under a rush of Frank’s influence, at seventeen produced his own first slim chapbook, Organic Trains. Ted Berrigan had taken Jim under his wing. Poetry not basketball was where Jim wanted to go in his life.”

*

Carrie Brownstein of Sleater-Kinney on NPR:

Travis Nichols

Measure for Measure

Auden Martini

Original Artwork by Paul Killebrew

Anyone who has ever looked at a photo of W.H. Auden knows the man enjoyed a good martini in his time.  Perhaps one or five too many.  “But,” the inimitable Rosie Schaap asks in this week’s cover story, “what sort of martini?”

She writes:

If Tarquin Winot, the epicurean protagonist of John Lanchester’s The Debt to Pleasure, is to be believed, he made them like so: “I borrowed W.H. Auden’s technique of mixing the vermouth and gin at lunchtime (though the great poet himself used vodka) and leaving the mixture in the freezer to attain that wonderful jellified texture of alcohol chilled to below the point at which water freezes. The absence of ice means that the Auden martini is not diluted in any way, and thus truly earns the drink its sobriquet ‘the silver bullet.’”

It’s charming—sort of—to imagine W.H. Auden, with his lined, noble countenance, inventing the progenitor of the jello shot, but Winot, a perverse and unreliable narrator, is not to be believed, and it seems questionable that an Englishman of Auden’s generation would abide, much less favor, a martini made with vodka instead of gin.

What would he abide?  Join the search over here.  And, if afterwards you find yourself a bit parched,  the perfect antidote to the office hour blues can be found after the jump.

Travis Nichols

This Is the Week That Is

Jason Conger, Rodrigo Toscano, Riva Roller, Clare Alexa Sammons (photo by Laura Elrick)
Jason Conger, Rodrigo Toscano, Riva Roller, Clare Alexa Sammons (photo by Laura Elrick)

Meet the Radical:  Jason Boog, GalleyCat impresario and freelance video essayist, explores the life and work of Rodrigo Toscano for this week’s cover story.  A taste:

“Frustrated by his formal education, Toscano skipped college altogether, moving to San Francisco in the early 1990s. There, poetry and activism became intimately intertwined in his adult life. Toscano’s self-made syllabus sampled a wide range of poets—Leslie Scalapino, Fanny Howe, Bob Perelman, Lyn Hejinian, and Charles Bernstein—as well as political thinkers such as Karl Marx, Louis Althusser, and Herbert Marcuse. In the mid-1990s, he helped organize the Labor Party in San Francisco and published his first collection, Arbiter (Parenthesis, 1995).”

Read the whole fascinating story of this labor activist, poet, and playwright here.

Welcome:  We’re pleased to announce that Barbara Jane Reyes, author of Poeta en San Francisco and Gravities of Center, has joined us at Harriet.  Welcome to the conversation, Barbara!

Topping the Charts: The number 1 book on the contemporary best seller list this week is Slamming Open the Door, Kathleen Sheeder Bonanno’s harrowing series of poems about her daughter’s murder.  Bonanno’s book edges out W.S. Merwin’s Shadow of Sirius and Mary Oliver’s Evidence for the top spot.

UPDATE:  While “How Forrest Gander is like Megadeth” is pretty good, the headline of the week (so far) goes to “Shocker: Robin Williams’s poetry teacher character is unlikable, ‘needs to grow up’ says director.”  That one really does have it all, doesn’t it?  Even better?  The director is Bobcat Goldthwait.

Read each and every bit of news fit to print over at the news page (Thanks, as always, to Cate and Abby for stellar puns and cub reporter skill-sets).

Travis Nichols

This Science Fair, My Prison

keats-in-space

August is the month for star-gazing, and what better way to prepare for the Perseids than to spend part of this horrid sun-lit day reading about the great Romantic scientists?  In her new article, “Keats in Space,” Molly Young explains that the work of William and Caroline Herschel, Sir Joseph Banks, Humphry Davy, and Mungo Park all took inspiriation from the same sense of adventure and awe as Shelley, Coleridge, Keats, and the Wordsworths.  Has there ever been–or will there ever be again–such a correspondence between poetry and science?  Read it here and wonder.

Travis Nichols

Of Love and Chain Letters (Borderline Ballads)

anne-sexton

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The New York Post reported yesterday that the Madonna once called on Anne Sexton’s poem “Love Song” to justify her love of a former bodyguard, Jim Albright.

“In a fax dated Dec. 24, 1993, Madonna wrote to Albright: ‘I was the girl of the love letter/ the girl full of talk of dreams and destination . . . the one with her eyes half under the covers/ with her large gun-metal blue eyes/ with the thick vein in the crook of her neck.’ Sexton’s poem read: ‘I was the girl of the chain letter/ the girl full of talk of coffins and keyholes . . . the one with her eyes half under her coat/ with her large gun-metal blue eyes/ with the thin vein at the bend of her neck.’

The love fax  (!!!) is one of many items up for auction at Gotta Have It Collectibles this week, though presumably the only one related to Anne Sexton (I do envision “Ballad of the Lonely Masturbator” scribbled on a Vogue-era cone bra uncovered one day).  Sexton’s name has come up with unexpected frequency already this summer, most notably when Ange Mlinko compared her to Frederick Seidel in The Nation.

Travis Nichols

“This was a glorious madman who would not let reason stop him from acquiring books”

Psst! Yeah, you!  Wanna see some rare poetry?

After Lorca

Click here.

(Photo by James Sitar, courtesy of Raymond Danowski Poetry Library, Manuscript, Archives, and Rare Book Library, Emory University)

Travis Nichols

Square School Girl Blows Geek Minds

Joe Brainard's Nancy

comic-con1

Over at Comic-Con International 2009, Fantagraphics Books has announced that they will soon re-release the complete run of the Ernie Bushmiller-penned (and Joe Brainard-beloved) comic strip Nancy.

CONTRIBUTING WRITERS

Anselm Berrigan
Abigail Deutsch
Tonya Foster
Melissa Friedling
John S. O'Connor
Barbara Jane Reyes
Amber Tamblyn
Edwin Torres

STAFF WRITERS

Cathy Halley
Michael Marcinkowski
Travis Nichols
Fred Sasaki
Don Share

RECENT COMMENTS

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So long and thanks for all the fish + a question... (8)
Vladimir, Ron, and Gregori (4)
dubious poetry: the palin comparison (3)
second sex takes second place? (29)
To Vaya in the Viva of Time (2)

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