A Spiral Notebook / Known To Be Left

Reading the poem “A Spiral Notebook” by Ted Kooser (1939-present) I couldn’t help but wonder how’s it going to be when I get older. Currently I’m in school, and use a spiral notebook daily, so I was instantly fascinated with the poem. The first lines compare the notebook’s wire to a porpoise, a marine mammal closely related to dolphins, differentiated only slightly by its face, fin, and figure.

“The bright wire rolls like a porpoise

in and out of the calm blue sea

of the cover…”

I relate to this image of “ocean of knowledge.” Under the cover of my notebook there are notes on Algebra, Government, and Literature. My campus is the only CUNY school with its own beach, and I love walking by the water in between and after classes. Also, there is an actual aquarium in the Marine and Academic Center building! Water means a lot me, and I consider it a symbol of calm, strength, and wisdom. The comparison is thoughtful, and easy to understand, a signature trait of Kooser’s writing.

Kooser explains that he is describing a “5 SUBJECT NOTEBOOK.” He then reflects on how at his age his attention span can no longer accommodate that many subjects.

“…It seems,

a part of growing old is no longer

to have five subjects, each

demanding an equal share of attention,

set apart by brown cardboard dividers,

but instead to stand in a drugstore,

and hang on to one subject

a little too long, like this notebook…”  

Kooser was in his 60s when he wrote this poem. I am half that age now, but when I get closer to Kooser’s age, will there still be spiral notebooks? Will I be able to relate to people half my age and younger, or will I even know what devices are used to take notes in class? Will my attention span be able to accommodate more than one subject?

Reading the poem “Known to Be Left” by Sharon Olds (1942-present) I couldn’t help but wonder if it will get easier when it comes to love and break-ups. Olds gave me an affirmation, if not much of a consolation. Her poem is about the end of a 30-year marriage, and what it feels like dealing with it for an adult.

“I guess that’s how people go on, without

knowing how. I am so ashamed

before my friends – to be known to be left

by the one who supposedly knew me best,

each hour is a room of shame, and I am

swimming, swimming, holding my head up…”

I can’t comprehend the idea of a marriage 30 years long, that’s just short of my entire lifetime. Yet I’ve brushed up against these emotions dealing with a relationship only a year and a half long, my longest so far. Olds’ words show me that love is love, no matter what age, or length of a relationship. It won’t get easier, but everyone is in the same boat. What does get easier though, is being able to laugh at yourself. I notice the development of my new ability to not take myself too seriously more and more as I get older.

“…In the mirror, the torso

looks like a pinup hives martyr,

or a cream pitcher speckled with henbit and pussy-paws,

full of the milk of human kindness

and unkindness, and no one is lining up to drink.”

“The milk of human kindness” is a famous phrase from Shakespeare’s Macbeth. Olds isn’t necessarily comparing herself to Lady Macbeth, but she is definitely being witty by comparing the end of her 30-year marriage to a Shakespearian tragedy.   

Lines from the Reports / Dadaism

Reading the poem “Lines from the Reports of the Investigative Committees” by Joel Brouwer (1968-present) I couldn’t help but wonder how pleased Tristan Tzara (1896-1963) would have been if he was still around to see it. Brouwer’s 2010 poem follows some of Tzara’s 1920 instructions on “How to Make a Dadaist Poem.”

As the title says, Brouwer literally takes lines from investigative reports on the explosion and sinking of the Deepwater Horizon drilling rig, on April 22, 2010, some 40 miles southeast off the Louisiana coast. Known as the Gulf or BP Oil Spill, the event is recognized as the worst oil spill in U.S. history. And the most covered up, too; for example, it is not well known that BP hired prison labor for the clean-up. Brouwer’s poem showcases and ridicules the official language with which the oil spill was covered, as well as covered-up, by the media.

The lines Brouwer chose don’t follow a linear narrative, and seem to be almost random, which is the nature of a Dadaist poem. Tzara’s instructions state that you must 1) take a newspaper, 2) take a pair of scissors, 3) choose an article – Brouwer chose the reports, 4) cut out the article, 5) then cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them in a bag, 6) shake it gently, 7) then take out the scraps one after the other in order in which they left the bag, and 8) copy conscientiously. Brouwer "cut out" sentences instead of words, and probably didn’t shake them in a bag, but the effect is similar.

“A journalist sinking

into the mud was told to toss his camera

to a colleague and hold extremely still. In this

sense, we are our own prisoners.”

Three phrases appear twice throughout the poem: “questions remain,” “care should be taken,” and the central theme of “the death drive,” which appears in the conclusion. Death drive is a term from classical Freudian psychology, and it means the drive towards self-destruction through risky behaviors, like sexual promiscuity. The first time Brouwer mentions this, it is somewhat enveloped in sexual imagery.

“Cleanup crews recover thousands

of plastic milk jugs from the shallows. Do these

images appeal to the death drive?”

The visual of numerous empty plastic milk jugs invokes the idea of waste, but can also imply by-products of sexuality when placed in front of a question regarding the death drive. The milk jugs can symbolize used condoms, which can be found in secluded beach areas, and milk itself can symbolize semen. Indeed, Brouwer ends the poem with an image of penetration.

“If the committee may offer an analogy, the death

drive resides at wholly dark depths of imagination

and fuel issues from a wound we’ve opened here.”

            Brouwer links oil drilling to sexual promiscuity through his analytical caricature of the BP Oil Spill. Promiscuity raises the chances of unsafe sex, and contracting a deadly virus, while oil drilling poses the risk of a catastrophe that can affect the entire globe.

            The Dada movement started in Zurich just over one hundred years ago in 1916 as a response to the horrors of the first World War.  Its mix of humor, satire, and avant-garde brought a new depth to artistic expression. Elements of Dadaism are still influential today, and can be found in various mediums, from the 2016 Best Picture Oscar winner Birdman (Or The Unexpected Virtue of Being Ignorant), to Lady GaGa’s performance at the 2017 Super Bowl halftime show, and Brouwer’s poem.

Frederick Douglass / The Slave Auction

Reading the poem “Frederick Douglass” by Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872-1906) I couldn’t help but wonder how it could have been used as a highbrow defense for President Trump’s recent comments which made it seem as if Douglass, a historic abolitionist and human rights activist who died in 1895, was still alive. Dunbar wrote:

“Oh, Douglass, thou hast passed beyond the shore,

But still thy voice is ringing o’er the gale!

Thou’st taught thy race how high her hopes may soar,

And bade her seek the heights, nor faint, nor fail.

She will not fail, she heeds thy stirring cry,

She knows thy guardian spirit will be nigh,

And, rising from beneath the chast’ning rod,

She stretches out her bleeding hands to God!”

“Frederick Douglass is an example of somebody who’s done an amazing job and is getting recognized more and more, I notice,” said President Trump at a breakfast with Black supporters highlighting the start of Black History Month. White House press secretary Sean Spicer later followed up saying that the President “wants to highlight the contributions that he [Douglass] has made, and I think through a lot of the actions and statements he’s going to make, I think the contributions of Frederick Douglass will become more and more.” What Spicer should have done instead was suggest that the President was merely quoting Paul Laurence Dunbar’s poem which says that Douglass’ voice, despite him being dead, still resonates in today’s culture, because the Civil Rights struggle for minorities in America is far from over.

A typical criticism of the #BlackLivesMatter movement is that not only Black but all lives matter. It is true that all lives matter, but it is not a sufficient rebuttal, since it is evident that the public overall has insufficient knowledge of Black lives specifically, given the current President, and the White House press secretary seem to not fully know who Frederick Douglass was. It's not well known that the first woman to run for President of the United States was Victoria Woodhull in 1872, but what's even more less known is that she announced Douglass as her Vice President – that's "how high" Douglass showed people their "hopes may soar."

Ben Carson, the newly appointed Secretary of Housing and Urban Development, recently compared slaves to immigrants during a speech addressing his Department. Carson said: “There were other immigrants who came in the bottom of slave ships, who worked even longer, even harder, for less, but they too had a dream…”  It may be unfair to criticize Carson’s comments since he is not an expert on slavery or history, but one can only hope that a link to “The Slave Auction” by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (1825-1911) would come his way so he can note the difference between being sold into bondage and free will. Harper’s poem goes:

The sale began – young girls were there,

Defenceless in their wretchedness,

Whose stifled sobs of deep despair

Revealed their anguish and distress.

And mothers stood with streaming eyes

And saw their dearest children sold;

Unheeded rose their bitter cries,

While tyrants bartered them for gold.

And woman, with her love and truth –

For these in sable forms may dwell –

Gaz’d on the husband of her youth,

With anguish none may paint or tell.