Aubade by Camille Rankine
listen to Robert Hayden reading it here:
A Way of Seeing by Kwame Dawes
Sherbet by Cornelius
Eady
We discussed in O Pen, "That Elusive Something" -- see March 7.
It was good to be back after 2 weeks away... 2018 is the year of celebrating Frederick Douglass--
so RoCo had an exhibit, "No Better Soil" -- I met in February with Kitty Palumbo at the MAG to
discuss the 13 black poets on Poets Walk which includes Frederick Douglass... and of course, his
name came up in Rennes, our sister city where we went for the dedication of the Susan B. Anthony
house. He and Susan sit in the park near the SBA House having tea in the Kettiwong (sp.) statue...
All the poets for March 14 are black except for Szymborska. I had just finished reading "Waking Up
White" -- which got me thinking about white privilege. In the Rankine poem, the idea of "white" being desirable and the problem of black/latino on the islands came up since she is from the Dominican Republic. "Improve your race" means marrying white... See the current issue of National Geographic -- and the FALLACY of thinking white is superior. Very little difference in DNA.
These are scary times, where extreme white supremisists are more vocal. The Robert Hayden poem
reminds us that from the very beginning, America was not about "freedom" and equality never
exercised. The father of Frederick Douglass was a slave!
The poems:
An Aubade is usually a poem about two lovers leaving at dawn... Camille Rankine's debut collection, Incorrect Merciful Impulses, borrows its title from Jenny Holzer's text-based art pieces. Like Holzer's Inflammatory Essays, Rankine's poetry seeks to propel the passive reader into active and aggressive questioning.
Incorrect and Merciful is a terrific paradox and made me think of reflected the "Robin Hood impulse"-- mentioned in "waking up white." It is the well-meaning impulse that says, "here, given my magnanimity, let me help you (although you didn't ask me to) and save you by making you more like me." Rankine plays with the same paradox in Aubade. Jagged feel to
line breaks that create opposing meanings, overtones -- "when I'm fed / and buried" which sounds like "when I'm dead and buried"... since the feeding in the poem is about biting the hand that feeds..
But I do take. And take
what’s given. The smell of blood.
give me bread, which echoes the Lord's Prayer... and the blood is not communion, although perhaps the church is also part of the problem of protecting those with self-righteous motives who kill.In O pen, I looked at the all-white group of 20 or so people... many asking "how am I supposed to understand this" and brought up the anecdote of the white teacher at a conference looking at a documentary about race and saying how she needed more detail to "understand" and how 5 black teachers responded. You need to look at your whiteness... your own baggage -- stop trying to put YOUR story on US. I felt the impulse to say to those asking "how am I supposed to understand this…" reflected that "Robin Hood impulse"-- here, let me be magnanimous and save you by making you more like me.
The poem, written in couplets, ends with disappearance... like the night, that turns into dawn... but also a series of fragments like this one: note how it further fragments not only a line break, but a stanza break which allows the reader to think about the paradox of what is both deadly... and a good intention-- and how the way to hell is paved with them.
All deadly good
Black all the windows. -- play on black-out for protection... or remove any light or hope. It reminded
John Wiesenthal of Fresh Widow by Marcel Duchamps.
The poem is rich in complexity. Worthy of re-reading. As a white, privileged person, how to understand someone black who says I barricade//
all my belonging. I am mostly never real
American or anything
availing.
What is real? what is real American? what is availing.
The dirt so thick with our good
fortune. And who pays for it. And what am I
but fear, but wanting.
Here, I've almost quoted the whole poem. Read it. Discuss it. How do we understand and what on both universal and personal levels?
Several of the poems contained or insinuated the word "dirt"-- both the land, the Earth, but also the dust we become.
in Frederick Douglass... no better soil
Kwame Dawes: He starts "A way of seeing" this way: It all comes from this dark dirt,
only that this piece
of dirt,
this expanse of
nothing,
**
Kwame Dawes: The title, A Way of Seeing warrants a pause as he ends the poem with
So, sometimes forgetting the panorama
to a way of seeing time past,
a way of seeing the dead.
The almost glib tone -- details that would madden an anthropologist (the only one who cares to do more than casual service to memory...) namelessness and smells of stories -- only a whiff to imply a larger story -- for instance behind those socks, warm woolen socks,
Uncle Felix never wore as he left Jamaica but were buried with him.
**
Sherbet:
The problem here is that
This isn’t pretty, the
Sort of thing that
Can easily be dealt with
With words. After
All it’s
A horror story to sit,
**
What a terrific start to telling the story about a mixed-race couple, a waitress and a manager...
and what kind of language do you use to show the discomfort?
We can assume the feelings of each of the character... but what is well-stated at the beginning
is this big-elephant-in-the-room-sized problem --
Like the Rankine, the line breaks accentuate the overlap of abstract (power of the rich/and rich sweet taste of oranges -- the make-it-better offering...)
The doubt
Stays on our side
Of the fence? What do
We call the rich,
Sweet taste of
Frozen oranges in
This context? What do
We call a weight that
Doesn’t fingerprint,
Won’t shift,
And can’t explode?
**
The setting is the very luxurious Jefferson hotel.
The poem was published in 1991,
twenty-four years after Loving v. Virginia was decided (1967)
a landmark civil rights decision of the United
States Supreme Court, which invalidated laws prohibiting interracial
marriage.
poem
captured nuance… how do I capture this transaction…
dumpster
fire… should be a word for awkward discomfort…
Happiness for Humans…
a word for longing… https://www.amazon.com/Happiness-Humans-P-Z-Reizin/dp/1478974265
As always a rich and rewarding discussion. Much more to say -- so please... read all these poems!
— this Saturday starting at 10:30 at the Phillis Wheatley Library, 33 Samuel McCree Way, Rochester 14608 : Black Women authors and poets: Our words, our way-- with soul! http://calendar.libraryweb.org/event/4063918
(I will be attending the celebration of life of Christine Fendley which starts at 11 am at Christ Episcopal Church, Pittsford).
--David Sanders will be moderating a four-part series on cultural perspectives at the Rundel Library
starting April 9: http://calendar.libraryweb.org/event/4021618
free, but do consider registering.
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