In Memory of Anne Sexton

Anne Sexton November 9,1928 - October 4, 1974

All day I've built

a lifetime and now

the sun sinks to 

undo it.

The horizon bleeds

and sucks its thumb.

From The Fury of Sunsets

Some time back I selected Anne Sexton as my Dead Poet Mentor.  Sometimes I lose sight of her in all the everydayness that bleeds over into my life. Once in a while I've been hung up on a poem that I'm rewriting and I'll ask myself, What Would Anne Do? (WWAD) If nothing comes to me right away I'll go to my poetry library and pull out my copy of The Complete Poems - Anne Sexton and just open it wherever my thumb takes me and start reading. Sometimes something will speak out to me about what I'm working on.. Other times I just read. But in the end, her voice leaves me feeling that I'm not along. That this is the road all poets go down. Sometimes we struggle for what to say. It isn't easy. Did we ever think it was supposed to be?   

Remembering Anne Sexton belatedly

"The beautiful feeling after writing a poem is on the whole better even then after sex, and that's saying a lot"

               ~Anne Sexton

Yesterday was Anne Sexton's birthday - I've been sick and not been on my computer for two days so this is a belated remembrance. You cannot talk about those who have left their mark on American Poetry without mentioning her name. 

Fathers

"It doesn't matter who my father was; it matters

 who I remember he was."   — Anne Sexton

Dead Poet Mentor Series Part 3 - Censoring Yourself

This week Anne seems to be reinforcing a notion that is not new to me but one that I still neglect (perhaps intentionally) to adhere to often enough in my writing.

In reading some of Sexton's poems from her book Transformations again, I see a poet (artist) stretching her work in what I must presume to be beyond a comfort level. Sexton is not at this point in her life new to taking her work into what would surely be uncomfortable zones for most people, but for example in Rapunzel she approaches the poem in what for 1970 must surely have been a most difficult light to offer to the general public to read. She writes:

"A woman / who loves a woman / is forever young...
they would play rummy / or lie on the couch / and touch and touch / old breast against young breast"

In a September 22, 1970 letter to her agent Claire Degener, Anne speaks of two of the Transformation poems (Rapunzel and Sleeping Beauty) as her best. She tells Claire they have been turned down by the New Yorker. Of course I could only be surmising if I suggested the New Yorker found the poems to have pushed the envelope a little too far for the time.  There could have been any of a number of other reasons that they were not picked up by the magazine, but Sexton was no stranger to them. Sexton had no less they 21 poems published by them making her a bit of a New Yorker hog!

Transformations was published the following year - 1971.  Even a writer familiar with and critical of the work prior to publication came around and decided he had over reacted to it.  Transformations went on to become highly acclaimed in spite of taboo subjects.

Was Sexton brave or simply not at all concerned about public perception?  Did she truly have the discipline as a writer to not self censor?  Whatever the answer is, the fact remains that her body of work exhibits a willingness to take her writing to places that most would intentionally back away from.  And to her credit, Sexton has to be viewed as a significantly influential poet of her time.
Her lesson here... You've heard if form others coaching you.. don't let fear dictate what you might have written, move past your comfort zone.

Dead Poet Mentoring Series:

Part One - My Selection

Part Two - Anne Sexton From Beyond

Anne Sexton from Beyond - Part Two in my Dead Poet Mentor Series

This week I've continued to be in communication with my dead poet mentor. Our communication has taken on several forms. The most common has been to speak to me through her poems. Let me explain what this has looked like. As I've read through various of Sexton's works this week some have been worthwhile reads but have not  elicited any remarkable internal reactions. On other occasions however, I've been prompted to consider fresh ideas on which to draw from in writing. I'm not talking about writing on the same subject as the poem in question, but rather drawing upon an image I'm finding within her words or seeing something that has taken me back to some experience of my own from the past that I'm seeing - unfold in some freshly developing language that I believe will carry over at some point into my writing.

Another way that Anne has been communicating with me is through her letters. Anne Sexton, like many poets of this same period was a prolific letter writer.  It's pretty easy to get inside Anne's head in these writings. I say this because these letters leave her quite vulnerable to anyone who would read them.  I've spent a good deal of time and energy studying Sylvia Plath and there is a stark difference between Sexton's letters and those in Plath's published, "Letters Home."

If one compares Sylvia's "Letters Home" and her Journals side-by-side, it becomes clear that what Sylvia was saying to her mother and what she was journaling  were often quite different. If one did not know any better you might even conclude these were not written by the same person.  Plath were out of her way to paint a picture for her mother's benefit that was about controlling the message. Her journals seem on the contrary to be a much more honest assessment of the authentic Plath.  This too is how Anne appears in her letters, authentic to a fault.  I'll have more to say about Anne's letters at a later time, but the point I am making now is they are quite revealing.

The last aspect of Anne's communication is through biographical material.  While Biographers may sometimes extrapolate on certain facts to reach differing conclusions, we can come to learns some things about a person that seem to be indisputable. When we learn some important truths about a person's life - it can help us to understand how these thing come to inform that person's writing.

So you have a bit of the "how" part of of my mentoring under a dead poet. Later in this series I'll talk more in depth about what Anne has actually been conveying to me.

 Part One - My Selection

I give you the images I know...

“I cannot promise very much.

I give you the images I know.

Lie still with me and watch.

We laugh and we touch.

I promise you love. Time will not take that away.”

 

~Anne Sexton

 

The images I know tonight...

 

• A sofa of zig-zagged pillows.
• An asphalt road that curves right - forever. 
• A bird nest driven into a tree by tornadic winds.
• The river running rampant outside its banks.
• A starless sky adrift upon ceiling.
• Tired brown eyes - like no other,

Dead Poem Mentor Series - Part One: My Selection

As I have mentioned before, while mentoring under another poet it was recommended to me that I select a dead poet mentor; a concept that seemed a bit odd at first but grew on me as I came to visualize the possible benefit. With so many dead poets (you know how most people think they all are dead) I had quite a field to choose from.

I’ve read (and own) an extensive collection of biographical martial, poetry and letters on Sylvia Plath a as well as Ted Hughes. I know Plath well enough already that I will sometimes read little things that I instantly know to be at odds with most biographical material and I therefore passed on Plath for the simple reason I have already become well acquainted with her and I want my dead poet mentor to be able to reveal new things to me. 

In the end, it would be Anne Sexton that I would choose for a couple of reasons but the priority in this selection was placed upon the fact that Anne was not schooled in poetry in the traditional manner. No MFA or anything close to the academic equivalent for those times. Yes she took some classes and workshops from the likes of Lowell and other well known poets but her formal education was limited. She came to poetry initially as a form of therapy but in the end her work progressed to the point that she was able to carve out an acceptance among the academics of her time. Her reputation would ultimately earn her teaching positions at several universities. In a way I view Anne Sexton as the patron saint of the “self made” poets. She was able to elicit help from others, but she found her own way to the success she achieved as an enormously significant voice among 20th century poets.

So at least for the time being, Anne Sexton is my choice for a dead poet mentor. To learn as much as I can about her, about her work, to be able discern her particular voice. To turn to her at times for inspiration and to get past writing blocks and at moments of need, to ask the question, “What would Anne do?”


And the great thing is she can’t say no to me.


* Series continues.

WWAD?

"Don't bite till you know if it's bread or stone." ~ Anne Sexton

What Would Anne Do?  -  Starting this weekend I will begin writing on my encounters with the dead poet Anne Sexton. I'm not having a seance, or toying with an Ouija board. It's nothing quite that dramatic.  But sometime back I was urged to select a dead poet mentor and Anne Sexton was the choice.  This weekend learn why I chose Anne and what I'm doing to figure out how she can help me with my poetry as I star a series of posts on What Would Anne Do?

Next Poem

The "next' poem is always THE thing, the question, the fear. ~ Anne Sexton, Feb. 1, 1959

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Gracefully Insane revisited

A few days ago I posted the following Anne Sexton quotation, "Even so, I must admire your skill. You are so gracefully insane." Lucindyl was curious about it asking if I knew in what context it was used and suggesting it must have a good story behind it.


The line is actually from a poem titled Eulogy In the Classroom by Sexton. I am imaging that it is a representation of the poet Robert Lowell who taught a class that Saxton, Plath and George Starbuck all were associated with. Given Sexton’s tendency to write Confessional Poetry it would not seem to be too far a reach to come to this conclusion. From everything else that I have read about Sexton and Lowell it would seem that she had quite a bit of respect for his brilliance even as she surely must have seen his decline in mental status.



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Anne Sexton Letters Part I

I can’t recall the last time I received a personal letter from someone.  By letter I mean one of those things that came via the U.S. postal service and landed in my mail box and waited patiently for me to arrive home.  E-mail, I have plenty of.

So there is a real novelty to letters. As I mentioned in and earlier blog post I am reading Anne Sexton A Self Portrait in Letters. I’ve read the published letters of numerous poets over the last few years. Plath, Ginsberg to name a couple. Plath’s Letters Home are remarkable in that they provide a rather contrived communication with her mother.  If you read any of her biographies (I’ve read countless) and or her published journals you will quickly see two Plaths. The one she wanted her mother to see and an altogether different one. It is against that strange paradox that I find Sexton’s letters refreshingly genuine.  She seems to say what she wants and there is little evidence that she tries to control her message. In fact, it is not uncommon for her to follow up one letter with another one with an apology or some sort of disclaimer for something in an earlier note.

Many poets in the 50’s through at least the 70’s were quite prolific writers between friends and peers. One amazing thing I noted about Sexton is how quickly she managed to correspond with significant poets of her time. With barely a year of writing under her belt, Sexton was corresponding with W.D. Snodgrass, Carolyn Kizer, Nolan Miller, John Holmes, etc.  With Snodgrass she corresponded quite frequently and her letters suggest he returned the favor.  Sexton in fact used nick names in her communication with Snodgrass that suggest they developed a significant friendship. “Dearest Snodsy, Dearest De, My dear night clerk".”

With Snodgrass Sexton would discuss poems, things going on in a Masters Class with Robert Lowell, the progress of her manuscript, etc. I suppose it is not surprising that her work was well received  so quickly because she was able to get it in front of people in position to help her very early on.

In her letters she refers numerous times to the fact that she in not a strong speller.  Sometimes her letters meander around. “Christ. I’m off again.” Anne writes to Snodgrass, “Talking in circles. My darling, the peanut butter calls.”  These early letters also detail the toll that the decline of the health of her parents is having on her and reference her therapy as well and Dr. Sidney Martin’s encouragement that she write for it’s therapeutic value.

I loved the bluntness with which she wrote Robert Lowell in September of 1958 about her efforts and desire to enroll in his Masters class and her assessment of how this was viewed by the registrar’s perception of this. “Today, with 90 dollars in my fist,  I called the registrar’s office. However, it seems they are not bouncing with joy at the thought of a “special student” with no particular degrees. A Mr. Wilder said that I would have to wait until after registration and see if there are too many students in the class.”

As I plow onward though this book I will stop from time to time to share things I believe to be of particular significance.

Technorati Tags: Anne Sexton,Anne Sexton A Self Portrait in Letters,Robert Lowell,W.D. Snodgrass

Dead Poet Mentor

I was thinking tonight the way I’ve been zipping through poetry books these past few weeks, (Just finished WILD IRIS by Louise Gluck) one a week for the past four months that I’m going to have to be thinking about what next soon. I’ve actually got the next two weeks covered.

Two books on my list to acquire and read are The Shadow of Sirius by W.S. Merwin. and The Complete Poems: Anne Sexton. I’ve already developed a taste for Merwin’s work. Migration is a wonderful collection of work that I often get lost in.

Sexton’s Complete Poems: I’ve often started to purchase but ultimately arrived at the checkout with something else. I’ve decided recently with the help of another poet to make Sexton my dead poet mentor.  You ask, “How’s a dead poet going to mentor me?” That’s what her book is for. A source of inspiration. A place to go for ideas. A place to search for answers when I am stumped… WWAD? (What would Annie Do)

I admit the idea seemed a little far fetched to me at first.  I mean there were several things that seemed odd. She’s dead for one. She’s female. There are however advantages to selecting her for this role. The difference in gender actually could work as a plus, providing a clue to the female persona for poems. She has a significant collection so there is plenty to learn from. Anne was not timid about subject matter. She wrote quite freely about topics. Something I could learn to do better.

I had actually thought of Sexton as sort of the Patron Saint of those who came to poetry through a less traditional (non-academic) route.  Sexton was not a product of academia though she achieved sufficient recognition for her work that she went on to teach at Boston University as well several other Colleges.   At any rate, I’ll soon be putting her to work mentoring me from the grave.

 

Technorati Tags: Anne Sexton,W.S. Merwin,Mentoring,The Shadow Of Sirius

The Birth of Poets

A young Belarusian poet named Valzhyna Mort (Martynava) was featured in the recent issue of P&W. From that article came this great line... "Someone said we're born a poet from this wound inflicted on us by other poets' poetry."



In terms of my own experience, I feel a real kinship with this statement. There are a number of poets whose work has touched me in such fashion, but I suspect if I were to recall one single poem, from on poet that had this kind of impact upon me, strangely enough it would be The Blue Dress by Sharon Olds. Remarkably strange I suppose for a guy since it is written in the persona of a young girl and the main prop being a blue dress. Yet the poem speaks to relationships and lack of relationships and the very first time I read it there was a real visceral connection to this poem. This was not the first such instance, there are works particularly by Plath, and Sexton which impacted me, but perhaps the strongest I can attribute to a single poem was the Olds poem.



I wonder how many others writing poetry can point to a specific poem that profoundly inflicted a wound so great that did or could have been the birth of their own inclination to writing poetry?

Diane Middlebrook - Poet & biographer dies of cancer

Diane Middlebrook - perhaps best known for her book, Anne Sexton- a biography, died this weekend of cancer. Middlebrook was 68 and had taught in the English department at Stanford. She is also the author of Her Husband: Hughes and Plath, a Marriage a 2003 best selling biography.

Workspaces...

A worthwhile slide show called Workspaces: Donald Hall - - A Slide Show can been seen here. Thanks to Cindy for the link.

Couple of other items....

Thanks to those who have responded to the rewrite / revision survey in the side bar. It's still open so please respond if you haven't.

I still have a few of my broadsides, Give Me Some Everyday Religion a poem of my own with an Anne Sexton epigram on it. If you'd like one. just e-mail me with your address.

They're Here

My Poetry Month Broadsides have arrived.
100 of them are available while they last. If you would like one, email me with your name and address. Each one is numbered and signed.
The poem is one I wrote some time back titled, Give Me Some Everyday Religion and it has an epigraph from Anne Sexton.

Immortality box

Picked up a book at the library of Anne Sexon's that I have not previously seen. The Book of Folly, published in 1972 Houghton Mifflin. Sexton is on of several poets that have long been on my radar and I have read a fair amount of her work. The very first poem in the the book caught me attention and I had to check the book out. The Ambition Bird was right there slapping me in the face. I could identify with it in the moment I was reading it.


I would like a simple life
yet all night I am laying
poems away in a long box,

It is my immortality box,
my lay-away plan,
my coffin.

Sometimes that so describes my life. Don't get me wrong, I do derive great satisfaction by writing. And I can't say that anyone is forcing me at gunpoint to write. Still, there is a level of work associated with the compulsion to write that can be very taxing. And I so identify with the immortality box.

There is an overpowering call to create material for this box. The material must pass the critical review of a very demanding critic that resides within me. A slave master that demands greater productivity and at the same time improvement in the quality of work Even in the business world these two objectives do not complement each other well. In the world of art, the tension between these two can be exhausting.

The immortality thing has been an issue with me for as long as I can remember and I remain thoroughly convinced that writing is the only outlet I know availability to me to remotely deal with this issue.