I remember that performance. At the time I was working for a telephone company. And lived, as I still do, within yards of the site of the great event. But I didn't have the money for admission. So I missed the wondrous moments. I remember being upbraided here too for not having the price of admission. Early in my career with the phone institution I had the joy of being on directory enquiries, so I really did know what it was like to perform the telephone books, minute upon minute, with watchful and hear-keen persons ever silently present, in case you paused too long for breath. Of course, the fact that somebody was funded to cross the Atlantic to recite parts of the Toronto telephone directory in the middle of Leicester has nothing to with money and the bogus representations of class at all, not one bit of it.

On 29 November 2014 at 20:09, Mark Weiss <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
Re: NYC deer. http://www.nytimes.com/2014/11/28/nyregion/growing-deer-herds-unwelcome-at-new-york-city-parks.html?action=click&pgtype=Homepage&version=Moth-Hidden&module=inside-nyt-region&region=inside-nyt-region&WT.nav=inside-nyt-region


-----Original Message-----
From: Mark Weiss
Sent: Nov 29, 2014 1:59 PM
To: British & Irish poets
Subject: Re: the avant garde vs. the lyrical:the telephone book

This is a common experience all over the US, even, recently, within the bounds of NYC (three cases in the Bronx this year). The northeast, which is heavily forested, has always had a large deer population and certainly now larger than the west, because there are so few predators and the browse is so plentiful. Our bear population is also larger. Highway injuries and deaths from collision with deer are commonplace. As to wildlife obstetrics, never heard of it in CA, where I lived for 10 years. More likely, in rural areas, the carcass would have been taken home for food.

A few years ago I got lost on a bike ride in the Catskills and wound up on the long way to my destination. I'd expected to arrive before dark, so no headlights. 10 miles of biking in the dark. Not a car, not a sound other than my tires,until I heard a clattering on the road in front of me. I stopped and waited for my eyes to adjust. A herd of does and fawns, about ten of them, were crossing, with a buck facing me. A vulnerable moment, but magical.

-----Original Message-----
From: Jaime Robles
Sent: Nov 29, 2014 12:42 PM
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: Re: the avant garde vs. the lyrical:the telephone book

Perhaps strangely, I thought the 'us' and 'our' in the final lines of the Stafford poem referred to the grouping of the doe, the fawn and the I. And that the question he was asking himself was whether or not to try to save the fawn. Though I suppose whether he saves humans driving along a narrow road or an unborn deer or both – truly all – is the same question.

As he worked in the Forest Service in California the story is quite likely true. The bio seems to confirm that, but to suggest also that he was, as John suggested, drawing a larger lesson. In the bio cited, his comments suggest that he is making more of an existential statement, however:

Though the poem states, "I thought hard for us all," Stafford explained to Lofsness that it "is not a poem that is written to support a position that I have chosen, it's just a poem that grows out of the plight I am in as a human being." Later in the interview, he asserted, "I would like to dissociate myself from taking any kind of stance that would imply that being a writer is assuming a power of guidance or insight or anything like that. I'm not that kind of a writer."  

I see this dilemma over whether to save the fawn as a western American portrait, though Stafford was born in the Midwest he spent much of his life in Oregon, a region closer to forest wilderness, and profoundly connected to the natural world. A Californian would have sliced open the doe: compassion would have been involved but also a kind of fly-in-the-face-of-circumstance arrogance. 

Thanks for pointing out this poem, which I had never read. It shocked me a bit because I've also written a poem about a dead deer at the side of the road. It's one of those deeply affecting events.
Cheers,
J


___________________________

Jaime Robles




On 29 Nov 2014, at 06:10, David Bircumshaw wrote:

Just been trying to check about Stafford's Quakerism and the results are ambiguous however he definitely had a relationship with that movement and was a registered conscientious objector in WWII. There are articles on subjects such as 'Quaker Worship' attributed to a 'William Stafford' and his wife was described as a 'Member of the Brethren'.

db



On 29 November 2014 at 13:44, David Bircumshaw <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
And there are a lot of logical 'buts', as well as the other kind. I don't think that any discussion of the 'personal' in poetry can avoid becoming enmeshed in paradox: one of the obvious issues is that of 'presence'. I think, or suspect, or guess, that I have two lodestone works within the Western tradition of poetry that anchor in the personal, but also escape it entirely. One is the bemusing, sometimes bewildering, Shakespeare of the Sonnets, a sequence which both seems to be autobiographical and anecdotal yet also evades description on that basis; the other is Vallejo's 'Trilce' which contains very definite and recorded personal matter yet at the the same time jumps from that into a modernism that peers beyond Pound or Joyce and only seems to be companioned by some of the work of Celan and perhaps Aygi.

db

On 29 November 2014 at 13:23, David Bircumshaw <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
I seem to recall that Stafford was a life-long Quaker and his poetic practice was related to his beliefs, i.e. poetry was a kind of giving 'witness'. That last a lovely Anglo-Saxon word which is an ' antonym of 'witless'. Stafford's poem I do remember has been famous for quite some long anthology time, so I'm not quite entranced by expressions of surprise at its prominence, poets by definition are liars so one has to draw a lot of chalk lines around any discussions among the tribe, however, I'm not trying to mount a polemic on the part of the anecdotal. I would observe that the deer-poem is a kind of friendly overture to every workshop decent-souled equivalent of the lost tribe of weekend painters in existence: it says you too can aspire to writing like this. that isn't entirely a bad thing, as I'm sure I'd prefer a civilisation decided by the votes of those than one resulting from the political visions of Ezra Pound. But but but ...

db

On 29 November 2014 at 10:00, Hall, John <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
Whether it makes any difference in the case of this particular poem is one
thing, whether it ever makes any difference another. The appeal to the
authority of personal experience is often a strong rhetorical tactic and
of course not just in poetry. As a mode it places the vulnerability of the
speaker/writer in the position of human shield for language. It is
praised, is it not, as Œauthenticity¹ and for its courage, which is often
real enough. As has been mentioned it can also be scorned as mere
anecdotalism, argument founded on case studies of one, and those perhaps
as trustworthy as Andrew Mitchell¹s. (Incidentally the etymology of
anecdote is, apparently, Œnot published¹. On that basis once an anecdote
is published it loses its right to the designation!)

In Stafford¹s poem it seems to me that the crux lies not in the first
person singular but in the first person plural. It only becomes apparent
towards the end that the ŒI¹ is not alone in the scene, with first Œthe
car ahead¹ and then Œour group¹. The second last line is where I suspect
that its popularity ­ I think it is a popular poem ­ arises:

        I thought hard for us all­­my only swerving.

This implies that there is a lot at stake in I's decision, whose
implications go well beyond this Œwilderness¹; I feels the burden of
exemplariness, which may be one of the (welcome) burdens of a particular
kind of lyric poem. This incident is Œfor us all¹. Does it matter whether
or not the incident actually occurred to the assembler of these words? If
it didn¹t then the assumption of priestly authority ­ the one authorised
to conduct sacrifice ­ is the more extreme. I think it matters only to
that extent. And as you imply, Peter, without searching outside the poem,
how could we know? I suspect that the force of the poem depends just as
much on the retrieval of the word Œswerving¹, which has earlier been used
unmetaphorically for the risk to drivers¹ lives of a dead animal left on
this particular road. It returns metaphorically as an ethical term, and
leaves hanging in the poem an equivocation about all that thought Œfor us
all¹.

Is there a whole genre, not quite coinciding with what people might or
might not be meaning by Œlyric¹, that could be called the homiletic? The
incident is the text for the day. This is how I recall the (Anglican)
sermons of my childhood.

All best,
John







On 28/11/2014 20:28, "Peter Riley" <[log in to unmask]> wrote:

>I can't see how it makes any difference whatsoever whether this
>incident actually happened to Stafford or not. And how would we know
>anyway?  When we speak of "poetry of personal [sc. authorial]
>experience" are we not actually speaking of narrative poetry as such?
>Of story? Which is certainly not restricted in usage to any fictional
>mainstream.
>
>PR
>
>
>On 28 Nov 2014, at 20:09, Hall, John wrote:
>
>William Stafford, Travelling through the Dark??
>
>http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/171495.
>
>Now where did that come from?
>
>John
>
>On 28/11/2014 19:38, "Hampson, R" <[log in to unmask]> wrote:



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David Joseph Bircumshaw
Website and A Chide's Alphabet
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