Reinventing the Life of a Poet in the Modern World

Tag: Allen Ginsberg

The Essay Project: The Beat Poets

CorsoThe student who contributed this essay to our class forgot to note the author so I had to look that up, “Variations on a Generation” by Gregory Corso and as far as I can tell it's from The Portable Beat Reader edited by Ann Charters. This is another good example of how an essay could be historical, instead of simply a craft essay or personal opinion about some aspect of poetry. 

Corso starts by defining writers who are members of a group as if to say the better talents belong to groups (which would leave out Emily Dickinson among plenty of other excellent loners): “every man works better when he has companions working in the same line, and yielding the stimulus of suggestion, comparison, emulation,” what Corso calls clusters joined by “geological location” or “philosophical sympathies” like the transcendentalists who were joined both geologically and philosophically. His other examples are “local-color realists…born between 1849 and 1851” or “experimental modernists…born in the decade between 1879 and 1888.” These “clusters or constellations” occur in all the arts.

(This might be a good time to note The New Yorker recently had a good article on the drawbacks of thinking in terms of generations…but that's a digression.)

Anyway, we're used to thinking along this generations line so Corso explains F. Scott Fitzgerald’s definition of the Lost Generation, a “reaction against the fathers which seems to occur about three times in a century…distinguished by a set of ideas inherited …from the madmen and the outlaws of the generation before.”

This is a helpful definition, Corso says, when considering the Beats  and their “intricate web of perceptions, judgements, feelings, and aspirations…the shared experience for the Beat writers was historical and political, based on the tumultuous changes of their times.”

Corso lists the good and the bad as influences here: anti-Communist hysteria, the Cold War, Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Arthur Rimbaud and Dylan Thomas.

He traces the word “beat” in etymological detail, coming out of  Jazz and meaning 'down and out' from 'dead beat' or beat-up or streetwise. The genesis of the word started in 1944 and traveled from Herbert Huncke to William Burroughs to Allen Ginsberg and Jack Kerouac, who saw in the word as a “melancholy sneer” like “solitary Bartlebies” (from Herman Melville’s short story "Bartleby, the Scrivener"), the “archetypical American non-conformist.”

Ginsberg’s friend Lucien Carr said, “maybe it was term we just sold ourselves. It was trying to look at the world in a new light, trying to look at the world in a way that gave it some meaning. Trying to find values…that were valid.”

[A generic enough a statement to stick to any rebellious manifesto.]

The term “Beat Generation” was coined in 1948 when bop music writer John Clellon Holmes wrote a piece appreciating the stories of junkies and the new consciousness, furtiveness and the “weariness with all the forms”….and the movement had “the subversive attraction of an image that just might contain a concept, with the added mystery of being hard to define….a vision and not an idea.” Holmes saw Jack Cassidy as the central figure after the publication of his novel Go. Then an article by Gilbert Millstein appeared in 1952 in The New York Times' Sunday Times, which officially launched the term.

Early works of note were:

  • Chandler Brossard's Who Walk in Darkness
  • George Mandel's Flee the Angry Strangers
  • Jack Kerouac's Jazz of the Beat Generation and On the Road which followed Allen Ginsberg’s censorship trial in San Francisco for Howl and Other Poems

Kerouac was dubbed the spokesman by this time and in 1958, Esquire Magazine published “The Philosophy of the Beat Generation.” 

The Beat poets are often conflated with the San Francisco Renaissance writers but were only associated to them via Allen Ginsberg who had moved from New York to California. The West Coast group was already a community by 1954 and contained a loose group of poets including Kenneth Rexroth, Kenneth Patchen, Robert Duncan, William Everson, Henry Miller, Anaïs Nin, Philip Lamentia, Jack Spicer, Robin Blaser, Weldon Keys and Gary Snyder.

It was at the event "Six Poets at the Six Gallery” in 1955 where the poem "Howl" was unveiled.

According to Michael McClure: “we saw that the art of poetry was essentially dead—killed by war, by academies, by neglect, by lack of love, and by disinterest. We knew we could bring it back to life…We wanted voice and we wanted vision."

The West Coast poets tended to revolve around presses: Unitide Press, Equinox Press, the Pocket Poets Series from Lawrence Ferlinghetti's City Lights Bookstore that published "Howl" which was seized by San Francisco customs officers and the press was charged with “publishing and selling an obscene book. But that just led to national attention and big sales.

Meanwhile, the word Beat came to be associated with the milieux of bop music, drugs, hipsters, the new kids of rock ‘n’ roll and soon it just became synonym for bohemian rebellion. Other terms in early competition were 'hip generation' (Norman Mailer), “the subterraneans” (Allen Ginsberg), “bop generation” (Jack Kerouac). A San Francisco Chronicle columnist coined the word “beatnik” as a condescending term in Look Magazine in 1958 when he referred to the “250 bearded cats.”

There was plenty of criticism for the poets in the US and the UK. Poet George Barker wrote a poem called “Circular from America” where he said, “Mill of no mind…1/2 and idea to a hundred pages….For laboring through/Prose that takes ages/Just to announce/That Gods and Men/Ought all to study/The Book of Zen.”

Ouch.

They were seen as “an amusing phenomenon" in the English magazine X although the UK had its own Kitchen-Sink Writers or “Angry Young Men,” a group that included John Osborne, Colin Wilson, John Wain and John Braine.

Conservatives in the encyclopedia The Americana suggested in 1958 that these writers were simply “self-conscious delinquents, addicted to…jazz, dope and the lunatic fringe of sex and literature, received attention out of all proportion to its significance…”

McClure insisted “at the deepest level that a barrier had been broken, that a human voice and body had been hurled against the harsh wall of America and its supporting armies and naives and academies and institutions and ownership systems and power-support bases.”

In 1958 Jack Kerouac published The Dharma Bums which was based on the poet Gary Snyder’s life and values and which became “a blueprint for hippie culture a decade later.”

Corso says,

“Like the work of the radical writers of the 1930s (but without their specific political agenda), Beat poetry and fiction was an alternative literature by writers who were sweeping in their condemnation of their country’s underlying social, sexual, political, and religious values…Earlier modernist poets like Ezra Pound or Lost Generation writers like Ernest Hemingway had attacked the system from the safeguard of their life abroad as expatriates, but the Beat Generation writers protested their country’s excesses on the front lines.”

William Burroughs understood the threat to conservatives as "much more serious…say, than the Communist party…you can’t tell anybody anything he doesn’t know already. The alienation, the restlessness, the dissatisfaction were already there waiting when Kerouac pointed out the road….Art tells us what we know and don’t know that we know.”

The important works:

  • Lawrence Ferlinghetti's Pictures of the Gone World (1955)
  • Allen Ginsberg's Howl and Other Poems (1956)
  • Jack Kerouac's On the Road (1957)
  • Kerouac's The Dharma Bums (1958)
  • John Clellon Holmes' Go (1958)
  • John Clellon Holmes' The Horn (1958)
  • Lawrence Ferlinghetti's Coney Island of the Mind (1958)
  • Gregory Corso's Bomb (1958) [writer including himself in the history there]
  • Michael McClure's Peyote Poem (1958)
  • John Wieners' The Hotel Wentley Poems (1958)
  • Diana DiPrima's The Kind of Bird Flies Backwards (1958)
  • William Burroughs' Junky (1958)
  • William Burroughs' Naked Lunch (1958)
  • Gary Snyder's Riprap (1958)
  • Kerouac's Doctor Sax (1959)
  • Kerouac's Mexico City Blues (1959)
  • Philip Whalen's Self-Portrait from Another Direction (1959)
  • Gary Snyder's Myths & Texts (1960)
  • Philip Whalen's Like I Say (1960)
  • Ginsberg's "Kaddish" (1961)
  • Kerouac's Book of Dreams (1961)
  • Michael McClure's Dark Brown (1961)
  • Diana DiPrima's Dinners and Nightmares (1961)
  • LeRoi Jones' Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note (1961)

According to Corso, “the Beat Generation did less well for its women. Reflecting the sexism of the times, the women mostly stayed on the sidelines as girlfriends and wives.” This group was more about “male bonding.” It’s experimentation involved what Gregory Corso called, “bop prosody, surreal-real images, jumps, beats, cool measures, long rapid vowels, long long lines, and the main content, soul…the brash assertiveness of the postwar years.”

JuliemaryWhen I met Julie Wiskirchen at Sarah Lawrence in the mid-1990s, the first thing she invited me to join was a Guggenheim event in Manhattan to see an Allen Ginsberg reading. In my memory Ginsberg sang, "Don't smoke, don't smoke….the government dope. Smoke weed!" But this is the full text of the piece proving my memory is not very good….but in any case Julie and I have been lifelongs every since.

Dog Haiku and 19 Chinese Poems

Isle-of-dogsRemember I was going to do a haiku challenge this year starting in June? WTF, 2018! Things just didn’t turn out as expected this year. But I’ve stayed on track with haiku meditations.

Wes Anderson released his beautiful Isle of Dogs this year. Fabulous animated version of a Wes Anderson movie (in look, humor and tone). I own the DVD. I have the giant poster. I wear the t-shirt.

But there were two satirical haikus to open and close the movie.

I turn my back
On human kind
Frost on window pane

And then at the end:

Whatever happened
To man’s best friend
Falling spring blossom.

I loved it. I also tracked down Issue 47 of Rattle Magazine for its catalog of Japanese forms. In the back, there's an excellent dialogue on haiku between Timothy Green and Richard Gilbert. They specifically discuss Allen Ginsberg’s famous translation of the Basho frog in a pond poem, explicating its last line, “Kerplunk!” Gilbert says, “the wetlands of Connecticut have bullfrogs and they do kerplunk! And Allen’s from New Jersey and they kerplunk there, but in Japan they don’t kerplunk.” And he goes on to discuss why this translation, however charming, accidentally and significantly changes the meaning of the original poem by altering the size and sound the frog makes when diving into the pond. 

19-waysAnd I finally finished a book about translations of a Chinese poem by Weng Wei, 19 Ways of Looking at Wang Wei, How a Chinese Poem is Translated by Eliot Weinberger and Octavio Paz. This overpriced, 50-page book had been on my wish list for a while. And it was an interesting dissection of translation problems with examples of 19 attempts to translate a 1200-year-old 4-line poem that was part of a landscape scroll. The authors provide notes on the Chinese language and how word choice and meter may affect reading. They start with Ezra Pound’s contributions, explain transliteration (word for word or character by character) and then dive into translations chronologically by W.J.B. Fletcher (1919), Witter Byner and Kiang Kang-hu (1929), Soame Jenyns (1944), G. Margoulies (1948) which was French so even the translation needed a translation, Chang Yin-nan and Lewis C. Walmsley (1958), C.J. Chen and Michelle Bullock (1960), James J.Y. Liu (1962), Kenneth Rexroth (1970), Burton Watson (1971), Wai-Jim Yip (1972), G. W. Robinson (1973), Octavio Paz (1974), William McNaughton (1974), Francois Cheng (again French, 1977), H.C. Chang (1977), and Gary Snyder (1978).

Here is a succinct quote about the situation:

“…translations are relatives, not clones, of the original. The relationship between original and translation is parent-child. And there are, inescapably, some translations that are overly attached to their originals, and others that are constantly rebelling.”

But Weinberger and Paz were way too dismissive about the translations they don’t like and too laudatory over translations they themselves contributed. Their was a glaring unfairness built into the project: all the other translators didn’t nearly the same amount of space to describe their choices as the authors provided themselves. And then they used highly subjective judgement words like “dull.” They made inexplicable leaps, attributing to a translator “unspoken contempt for the foreign poet” if the translation stayed too far from the original. Weinberger and Paz called for the “dissolution of the translator’s ego” (as if such a thing were possible) all while ignoring the fact that their own statements were rife with ego. Later in the book they insist of Kenneth Rexroth that he “ignores what he presumably dislikes.” There's a shitload of presuming is my point. 

I appreciate the detail and close readings this book provided but some comments were willfully enigmatic like this one

“…taken from a three-volume set, all by the same translator, and published, oddly, by Columbia University Press…”

The fact may indeed be odd but you’d have to be an insider to understand why. 

But there was a wonderful keeper quote from poet Gary Snyer:

“The point is that translation is more than a leap from dictionary to dictionary; it is a re-imagining of the poem. As such, every reading of every poem, regardless of language, is an act of translation: translation into the reader’s intellectual and emotional life. And no individual remains the same, each reading becomes a different—not merely another—reading. The same poem cannot be read twice.”

You can't dip your foot in the same river twice. The same poem cannot be read twice. Wow. Given that sentiment you’d think the authors would have been more open to the personalities of these translations that were different than their own.

I hope to get "52 Haiku" back on track next year.

    

Review of Favorites, the Anthology of the Aurorean Journal

FavoritesFractions are killing poetry: fractions of the time the world has available to devote to reading it: books, anthologies and journals. Journals above all seem to bear the most of a slim readership. But they do the Lord’s work, big and small, famous and obscure, as a magnet for culling new poetry out from the wilderness. The great thing about a journal anthology is that we are able to read the best of the crop from all the sweat and labor of a journal’s works. It’s condensed goodness.

The Aurorean journal has published over 50 issues in the past 15 years and featured over a thousand poets. Editors Cynthia Brackett-Vincent and Devin McGuire have now compiled their Greatest Hits, an anthology called Favorites which is divided into sections that show exactly what subjects this journal specializes in: seasons, meditations and New England. Brackett-Vincent’s introduction provides and interesting tale of how she came to found and produce this poetry journal and the transformations the project has made over the years.

The Seasons section is full of “frost-warped” leaves and frozen ponds and starts strong with a poem by Lillis Palmer called “Planting Bulbs” where we find ourselves “breathing the humus-sweet cold air” as she describes bulbs who have a secret faith. I also loved Michael Macklin’s “The furrows” about the dead under our plows and Judith Tate’s “Yard Work.” I enjoyed Susan Wilde’s “when the television goes off in winter” and Virgil Suárez’s “El Hermitaño, My Friend Ryan Who Believes He Roamed Like Locust in a Previous Life” where the locusts can be heard in the fields like “strewn punctuation.” Monica Flegg’s “A Winter Farewell” was my favorite of this section, where emptiness feels like:

…a loss
a snowflake sized one
buried deep in this blizzard of a lesson.

The Meditations section struck me as primarily one of death poems. I liked Cynthia Brackett-Vincent’s “Kodi Ball,” especially as I believe there truly can never be enough dog poems in this world and Cathy Edgett’s “Healing:”

I drank grief like tea in Tibet,
Holding the cup with both hands

Meditations boast poems with dedications to a menagerie of inspirations, including poet Allen Ginsberg, Massachusetts Senator Paul Tsongas and Lake Superior and includes a variety of tributes to mothers (some departed), including the mother-ode I loved the best by Dellana Diovisalvo, “I Say Mother.” The section also includes one of the most tastefully poignant eulogies to the victims of 9/11 who felt compelled to jump from the burning towers, Clemens Schoenebeck’s “For the Angels, Unwinged.”

Since New England is commonly associated with the four seasons, the first and final sections have plenty of overlapping images of stone fences, frosted windows, sun-bleached shells, an interesting number of references to lichen, pitched roofs, harvests and one mention of Mount Washington I liked very much, Michael Keshigian’s “Upon The Roof” where:

above green challenging the edge
I spin quickly
to view the world in a glance

I lived in Stow, Massachusetts for 5 months in the spring and summer of 1995 working at the Massachusetts Firefighting Academy, then returning often for visits after I started attending Sarah Lawrence College from 1995 to 1999; and this anthology reminded me of New England’s solid pastoral beauty, the salty Atlantic seashores, the bitter winter wind and the upstaging panoramas of leaves. The Aurorean tends to publish very compact poems, (many are thin and long, none are longer than a page), setting a serene descriptive scene or a moment’s reflections on a landscape, a general array of gentle points and soft landings. The book is full of quiet pools of thought or contemplations where you can, as Anne Dewees writes, “feel the earth breathe.”

I turned to my archaeologist husband to explicate the final brilliant poem of the book, one called “Faith” by Robert M. Chute. It was about Henry David Thoreau and arrowheads and faith. I loved it so much I copied it out of the book for taping up on my office wall.

To buy this anthology
To visit the Aurorean

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