The Ordinary Sublime: A Double-take at the Meaning of Meaning
If you ask Patricia Waters where she looked for the inspiration to write The Ordinary Sublime, her answer might go something like, "I got out of bed."
Or maybe not. Lying in bed is ordinary, and on the right day, sublime. Either way, it wouldn't get by Waters -- during the meaningful and the mundane, she's tuned in.
The volume's title poem, about an everywoman peeling potatoes, makes a simple experience profound, and blurs the line of audibility even when read silently.
"…Something / in that calm repetitive action / goes for nothing and for everything, / another day, another meal, / same as life, might be life."
The words, syllables and tone merge to become the crisp, clean sound of a knife making its way in between the skin and flesh of a potato.
But that's only one interpretation. And as far as Waters is concerned, interpretation is in the eye, ear or mouth of the one experiencing the poem.
"I really have no idea [how hearers, readers or auditors interpreted Sublime] because firstly I do not know what I intended and secondly they seem to know more about these things than I do," Waters said.
Some of the poems, however, were inspired by things that we may all experience, but that are anything but ordinary.
"'Frosty Morn' because it is about the loss of my parents, though they died some years apart," Waters said. "There are some things one never leaves behind."
One thing that isn't ordinary is Sublime's cover. As a hobby, Waters creates handmade books. It was after finishing a project using family photos that she discovered the cover for Sublime.
"The cover of the last large book I did used that photograph," Waters said. "I love it and simply knew that would be it."
Back to Top
Calling all Soul-searchers: Jubilee Is a Catalyst for Self-examination
Roxane Beth Johnson, winner of the 2005 Philip Levine Prize for Poetry, has created a very different work in Jubilee. To simply call it "prose poetry" would be something a misnomer. To call it less than a novel, minus the devil in the details, would be criminal.
"My inspiration for Jubilee was an idea I always had to write a poetic novel," Johnson said. "I wanted to try telling a complete "story" in poetry which I felt would release me of the necessity of making it coherent in the usual fictional way."
Other inspirations include Kim Addonizio's Jimmy and Rita, a beautiful, tragic novel in poetry; and sensory experiences common to us all. Johnson wanted to give the reader "that same kind of emotional "charge" only music can create."
"Mostly, I was really inspired by good poetry and wanting to write my own," Johnson said.
Writing Jubilee gave voice to several facets of Johnson's life that act as threads that pervade humanity at large. In many ways, living is about losing love: readers can feel and relate to her pain in "Blues for Forgotten Music."
"Blues" isn't "necessarily one memory," according to Johnson.
"It's just the idea of loving someone, romantically or otherwise, and losing them and not being able to let go of remorse or feelings of grief," Johnson said. "It's very sad to me how common that experience is."
Jubilee gives a subconscious, intimate voice to Johnson's version of life experiences we all face. Though she doesn't have a favorite poem in the book, each word is a thread in the cloth of her experience.
"I was able to say what I meant to say with each poem. Anytime I can do that, a poem is a favorite," Johnson said.
Johnson did have some specific ideas in mind when she penned Jubilee. But, as with any medium of art, there is never a guarantee that what seems concrete to the writer doesn't go astray in the mind of the reader. Still, Johnson takes comfort in knowing some people read Jubilee just the way she wrote it.
"Some readers have interpreted the book the way I had intended and that is very gratifying."
Johnson knew that she wanted a bird, or a flock of birds on the cover. So, she did what anyone in the 21st century would -- she Googled the perfect image.
"Of course, the word 'bird' brings up about 1,000 pages, so I went through them over the course of a number of days and looked at all of the images," Johnson said. "The artist, John McCormick, allowed me to use the piece that's on the cover."
Back to Top
Past and Present become One in Ornithologies
The first thing to know about interviewing Joshua Poteat is not to expect long, complicated answers about his poetry or his life. He's way too humble and real for that. Not that his poetry isn't phenomenal, or his life, interesting.
Joshua Poteat's unusual childhood, as the son of a biologist/environmental scientist/avid naturalist, set the stage for his recent literary success.
"I was forced to learn bird calls, many of which I have forgotten," Poteat said. "As a child, I would come home from school and find an injured seagull or cardinal recuperating in our bathtub more often than not."
Ornithologies is the rare stage on which past and present collide beautifully and coherently. Lucid and hearty, Ornithologies stirs the imagination. According to Poteat, readers interpreted the poems in Ornithologies exactly as he meant them. But, as with almost everything under the sun, there's always an exception.
"The problem with persona poems is that readers aren't quite sure how autobiographical they are, if at all," Poteat said. "During my Florida reading tour, I offended a guy in Winter Park with one of my poems. You know you're doing something right when that happens.
"'Were you the one incinerating those owls?' was a question I was asked often," Poteat said.
Even though Ornithologies (named for the branch of zoology that deals with birds), for which Poteat won the 2004 Anhinga Prize for Poetry, charmed critics and readers alike, Poteat maintains an air of humility: He takes himself way less seriously than he has a right to.
Not to mention he's got a sense of humor that could stitch anyone's side.
"I wanted the book to look as beaten up and worn and discolored as possible," Poteat said. "[Anhinga Press's editors] did not agree with my suggestion of hiring several child laborers to scuff and stain each book, so I found a photograph in my collection that did the trick and avoided breaking several Florida labor laws."
Though much of the book exudes an elegant, almost sweet sadness, many of the book's portions induce happy feelings for Poteat because they focus on the southern landscape.
"There are moments of happiness here and there, at least for me, especially where landscape is concerned," Poteat said. "The southern coastal landscape of my childhood somehow brings me joy."
Of course, Poteat's modesty made it a little difficult to get him to admit having or not having a favorite poem in the book. And of course the answer eventually wheedled from him caused a chuckle.
"Just between you, me and the newsletter readers, I kind of like those half-assed Irish Curse sonnets, because they are simultaneously silly and sad."
Back to Top
Robert Dana to be Celebrated at AWP Conference
Anhinga Press is pleased to announce that a panel celebrating Robert Dana's long poetic career will be on the program at the Association of Writers and Writing Programs Conference (AWP) in Atlanta, Georgia, on Thursday, March 1, at 10:30 in the morning.
Rick Ryan will moderate; the speakers on the panel include David Lynn of The Kenyon Review; Ted Solotaroff of The New American Review; David Hamilton of The Iowa Review; Hilda Raz of Prairie Schooner; and Stephen Corey of The Georgia Review. This promises to be an exciting event, and the organizers have planned time for people to speak from the floor.
Anhinga Press and The Chattahoochee Review are also hosting a reception for Robert on the evening of March 1, at 7:00 p.m. in the Madison Room of the conference hotel, the Atlanta Hilton. It's a public reception with a limited open bar.
Please visit the Anhinga Press table (#69/70) at the book fair for more information on this event. For general conference information, please visit the AWP Conference Web page.
Back to Top
