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By Pat King, on 23-03-2007 23:07

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Two interviews by small press poet Charles P. Ries, poetry editor of wordriot.org.

INTERVIEW WITH THE POET “SPIEL”

 

By: Charles P. Ries


 

I sometimes wonder if physical suffering, mental illness or being slightly bent in the head is more prevalent among poets than most of the population. I wonder if one or more of these characteristics don’t actually foster innovation.  I have noticed that some of these souls write poetry with such abandon, quantity and quality it sometimes makes me wish I was compulsive “in that way”. Every art form has its wounded, brilliant practitioners. But it seems to me that “creation” springs more abundantly, and often more beautifully from those who suffer mental, physical and spiritual hurdles. The poet, Spiel seems to be such a poet. He made the transition from visual art to word art just eight years ago. It is quite evident that in poetry he has found a medium big enough for his ideas, his anger and his sorrow.

 

In a recent interview with Tom Conroy of The League of Laboring Poets Spiel describes himself as "a perilously crusty provocateur who steps on cracks to break the backs of sacred cows." And one aspect of Spiel is indeed as provocateur – a role he seems to enjoy. Again from the Conroy interview, Spiel says, “And for all of those who believe I read (or write) for shock, well,…there is an imperative sensibility to much of what I build in my pieces; its intent is to plant deeply what I hope to inform: this is what I believe is mistaken by some as the shock factor.”  But when Spiel is shocking it is not just for its own sake, but because it is catharsis for him and for those whose silence he gives words to. Spiel’s audience will not be mainstream, but he doesn’t care. As he says in the interview, “I can’t say that I intentionally write for a particular audience. But I’m certain my audience is limited somewhat by my language: i.e., those who abhor the word fuck, for example. Those who hold their sacred cows above reason.” There are very few poets who write about personal horror and pain; and even fewer who do it well. Spiel willingly puts his head into the black hole of his past, and then writes about it.  In a small press populated with fascinating personalities, Spiel was one I wanted to know better. He graciously agreed to lay it on me.

 

CR: What is your real name?

 

SPIEL: My real name is the name I allow you to know me by. My real name is my enormous bank of artistic invention during more than sixty-six years in this declining body—my real name in the “making pictures” poem in my chap “it breathes on its own” which speaks of an extensive series of casein paintings done in the early 60s: children—without faces…“without mouths / to speak / to tell of all their needs / to tell their stories / where they’d been / why they stood before the houses / without doors / without windows / ”          

 

CPR: For having started writing poetry just eight years ago, your work is very developed. Can you tell me about your publication credits?

 

SPIEL: Look…I’ve got a serious issue with this sort of question. Must poetry fall into the category of a race? Like a 100K run?  I wig out when poetry is thought of quantitatively. I could flash you good numbers. But it’s the relative value of each of those publications that matters.

 

CPR:  I agree that at a certain level of quality (and persistence) it is not hard to amass lots of writing credits, but a body of work is exactly that, and I want to know about your body of work.  I see your poetry all over the small press. So getting placed must matter to you. Let’s keep it simple. How many books have you published? 

 

SPIEL: You’re not hearing me, man. I’m taking this opportunity to say I don’t dig it when writers start throwing their numbers around. Thanks to Kinkos, just about anyone can publish dozens of chaps that’d make for a real hotshit bio. What difference does it make that, in fact, I’ve published a dozen? I’d hope we’re not talking Wal-Mart versus Target when we talk poetry. Yeah, if I were just writing this stuff for myself, I’d put it down in soft pencil on toilet paper, then flush it; so for me, chapbooks actually do serve a purpose; a sort of archiving. And they do have a certain degree of staying power. But to achieve just ONE really meaningful chap in a lifetime…ahhh, now that might be a worthwhile aim—when in truth, for the dedicated poet, it’s difficult to achieve that with just one truly great poem.         

 

CPR: In the latest issue of Blind Man’s Rainbow, its editor, Melody Sherosky says about your recent book of poetry, “come here cowboy: poems of war”: “...these poems reinforce my own feelings that he is one of the best independent press poets currently producing new work.” That’s pretty high praise from a very astute reader of poetry. Tell me about your training as a writer?

 

SPIEL: Until ’96 when I became deathly ill, I’d spent my first fifty-five years as a visual artist; from there, three years of reticence—not at all resilient about recognizing I had not died. Since spring of ’99, I’ve been re-inventing myself as a writer. I took a couple of lit classes in university over forty years ago but all I remember is a knockdown with an obsessive old professor, an Englishman, who wouldn’t allow me to write “pregnant silence.” I dropped college twice. Did not understand that the psych disorders which’ve messed with my life were probably the reason I was unable to handle the disciplines of education. My “writing training” is in the daily doing of it.

 

CPR: Tell me about your process. Do you rewrite extensively?

 

SPIEL: It wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say writing is all I do—typically putting in a solid 60 hours weekly at the keys. As for process, more often than not comprehensive—rare is the poem which just falls how I want it published. My studio has stretched onto the kitchen table, into my car, next to my bed (writing by feel in total darkness), the TV, any place I can grab a scrap of paper to jot the flash of a moment. Then, from those scraps, I begin development on screen where the piece may go through several lives. First print-out is then hand-writ into my “archive/journal” where, in ink, I may recognize new issues I want to work over. So, it’s back to the computer…    

 

CPR: In your book, “it breathes on its own” your art braids itself into and around the poems. On one level this creates a union of visual art and reading, but I sometimes found the art made it difficult to read the poems. For example in the poems “andy” and “lye” the font size made it hard to actually read the work.

 

SPIEL: This is evidence the painter in me did not fully die when I “died” in ’96. “andy” and “lye” reveal dark secrets which were agonizing to access; so I present them as a guarded secret you must ache your ear to hear…“/ pleeze daddy / the arm for her shot / that’s the  arm / when she scrubs me with lye / and won’t let me go /”. The visual encounter you speak of is not incidental to the words. It’s a piece of each word.  Each of my chaps is a new experience. In my “church floor,” pages of those oblique poems appear to have been writ in different languages, then ripped apart, then pasted together again—not unlike the chaotic process of my mind. I want you to experience it with me, be dragged into it, troubled: “/sleep thought out / but ne’er possessed / as nightly suicides / by rubber daggers”. Good grief, man, this is the revelation of the Grim Fairy Tale of my real life; and decidedly the most challenging of my collections.    

  

CPR: In “making picture without words” you say, “& at that time I changed my name / to hide my blackened tongue / so blackened then / by griefs of secrets hidden there / behind my face / without a place to speak”. Many of your poems are dark and filled with sadness.

 

SPIEL: True. So true.  The absolute recognition of the effect of generations of psych-illness preceding me—then in me—my past inability to touch my fundamental base: the frightened precociously creative homosexual child given to manic depression, born at the outset of WWII to common white farmers in a small out-west town, my mother’s blood the pathway to a madness it would take these sixty-six years to lead to this earthquake of the psyche—and in this watered-down culture: locally, globally.

 

CPR: You often weave this darkness and suffering in your themes with a musicality; you use repetition of words to deepen meaning, through sound.

For example in “knots & ribbons” you repeat the words nipples and ribbons a number of times.  This musical aspect of your writing works to great effect in your wonderful poem, “chair”. It’s brilliant.

 

SPIEL: Thanks. You got it right about the music. Nothing is finished until the music is there. “knots & ribbons” is a true story of an acquaintance whose husband ritually abused her, then hanged himself to be discovered in front of her child’s bedroom door. Odd isn’t it, the music of words came to relate this hideous story—perhaps make it palpable. “chair” is a rare piece which fell into place first stroke. “I wish you” poems are a kick to write but they’re a challenge cuz they can easy end up as crap. Recording “chair” for my new album—mmm, the sexiest! Those words are so intimate, dude, and doing it live with a mike against my lips proved their worth.  


CPR: In some of your poems you relate incidents very graphically, in some cases the language boarders on lurid and/or pornographic in tone –

 

SPEIL: Well, Charles, your choice of words may say more about you than about my intent. Any number of pieces in my books might be interpreted as graphic “this” or “that”—all in the mind’s eye, isn’t it. An old friend interprets my incest piece as a beautiful revelation of flesh between mother and child. For me, it’s one of my most horrifying poems. I’m an adventurous writer who takes the stance that there’re no limits to what good poetry can be about, nor how it can be expressed. I tackle all sacred cows with the same gusto—they fall under the same category: the beastiness of humankind. I dig beneath that hirsute surface, little old churchy ladies included, to write about why people suffer so, why they treat each other the way they do, why…“/ it’s a good thing / to die / at least once / in a lifetime / unearth a new baseline / with your head bent / the way your neck / was set to turn //”    

 

CPR: In some of your poems, you seem comfortable using what you’ve called street words (in your Laboring Poets interview). I read poets who think using the “F-bomb” somehow elevates the visceral quality of their work when it actually diminishes it, distracts from it. Don’t you think you stand the same risk in using fuck or other street words in your poetry?   

 

SPIEL: I wonder if you recognize the depth of passion beneath my drive to keep all channels open for a language which is unrestrained—and to stave off those who would attempt limitations on it because it offends their sense of right and wrong. As a gay child in the 40s, then into the 50s, I was called every name you’d care to imagine, but I weathered those tags and I’ve come out the stronger man for it: whatever I was tagged was what those creeps believed and had they called me something more “correct,” their hatred would not have been any less poisonous. Good art, historically, resonates the times in which it is made. Given that the fuck word is plentifully used today, then there should be a solid reflection of its usage in the poetry of today. The most significant of the Beat Poets were not the product of decorum and protocol when they turned the lit world upside down. Throughout history, the mind of the enduring artist/explorer has never been driven by protocol, nor decorum.

                 

CPR: The liner note from one of your books says, “Without your ear, I have no voice.” Surely you know that some of your language may be hard for many ears to hear. 

 

SPIEL: Again…I see poetry as advocacy. I speak out for the disadvantaged and against those thugs who are inappropriately advantaged. I may be an acquired taste—perhaps to my disadvantage. But for those who want “easy to hear,” let them eat Maya Angelou’s Hallmark collection for which she was rewarded gazillions.  

 

CPR: I love many of your poems: “deceit” “revelation” “marilyn” “closed open” and “touch”. You write soft lyrical poems and head bangers equally well. I found this a surprising aspect of you and your writing. It suggests to me that anger, yearning and sadness sit side by side in your writer’s mind. Does one style call to you more strongly the other?

 

SPIEL: I have no need, no sense, for “style” when I begin to write. Every piece is Spielspeak to me. Why you draw style lines is weird to me. “closed” was a rare “blind poem” where I sat at the keyboard, then let my fingers fly—“automatic writing.” When finished, I removed one unruly word, then shaped the piece. About “marilyn,” an established feminist poet sent an email saying, “the last lines are some of the most original & poignant words ever written about (marilyn).” “/ aloof / wanting / already contemplating / the abandon / of / what men desire / wanting out //” When I wrote that poem, I recall thinking it was about me.   

 

CPR: What is your greatest joy?

 

SPIEL: Birthing words which work.

 

Spiel writes with great range and passion. So much so that it is easy to hear and remember only his loudest shouts - those poems in which he pounds the door and cries out for the injustice, the inequality and sorrow of this life. But flip these poems over and you find a poet equally equipped to write soft, spare, musical poems filled with sentiment and yearning. None of us can remove ourselves from the themes of our writing. Each line and stanza says something about us and perhaps, as Spiel suggests, offers a mirror up for others to see themselves more clearly. Spiel holds his mirror with uncommon intensity. He can be loud and shrill, but he can also be soft, silent, beauty. He’s a mind bender for sure.    

_______________________________________________

 

You may order Spiel’s three most recent books of poetry: it breathes on its own ($10), come here cowboy: poems of war ($10), and church floor ($6) by contacting him at:

 

Spiel

89 W. Linden Ave

Pueblo West CO 81007

            This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it

 

 

 

SPIEL REFERENCE NOTES AND REVIEWER’S BIO:

 

For samples of Spiel visual art go to:

 

 Cover art, etc. Skidrow Penthouse, Issue #8, 2007, $15.

                         300+ pages. Poetry. 44 Four Corners Rd. Blairstown N.J. 07825.  

                        Spiel art in: Nerve Cowboy, Issues 1-15, 17 & 18

& Bathtub Gin, front cover, Issue 11, 2002

Also Spiel art as 2 signed limited edition broadsides: www.puddinghouse.com & within it breathes on its own chapbook   

 

For samples of Spiel’s poetry & short stories online please click these links:

           

www.theleagueoflaboringpoets.com  seek interviews, reviews, poems

www.ascentaspirations.ca   seek  “contributors” “short stories” 

www.four-sep.com   seek  “chapbooks”

www.laurahird.com  seek “featured poets”

www.laurahird.com/bestrecords/ironbutterfly (seek In A Gadda Da Vidda)

www.muse-apprentice-guild.com   seek archives/ spiel

http://newversenews.blogspot.com   seek archives/ spiel poems

www.marchstreetpress.com  (parting gifts magazine) seek spiel poems

www.poetsagainstthewar.org  seek spiel poem

www.puddinghouse.com  3 chapbooks by spiel, poetry

www.saintvituspress.com  seek poems & essay

www.strangeroad.com seek poetry

www.thundersandwich.com  seek poems

www.unlikelystories.org/art/spiel  “cross-media” art  

www.unlikelystories.org/spiel seek “poetry,” seek “short stories”

www.unlikelystories.org./spiel  “spiel jack moss” download of voice-on

www.wordriot.org  seek poems

www.zafusy.com seek archives

www.zygoteinmycoffee.com  seek “back issues” for spiel poems

 

________________________________________________

 


and number two:


 

Here is the general idea behind my doing this review/interview from this perspective: I often feel that academically trained poets (most, not all) begin to lose their audience. I feel those of us who come into poetry through self teaching and the small press write in a very different manner. So with this interview I tried to explore how academic training may cause one’s poetry to become irrelevant (to anyone but an academically trained poet). It runs a bit long and you are welcome to cut it back. It’s gets a bit esoteric, because…well, Mike is pretty esoteric.

 

It was an interesting process - a long process. But once I completed it I had a deeper appreciation of Michael Graves poetry, and I came to like him very much as a person. That said, I still have a hard time “connecting” with his work. But maybe my head just isn’t big enough YET. In any event, I felt this interview, and this focus might prompt some lively discussion and/or get people to think and write about this topic from their own point of view.

 



 

___________________________________________

 

ADAM AND CAIN

By: Michael Graves

Black Buzzard Press

Price: $15.95

80 Pages/ 9 Poems

 

ISBN: 0-938872-29-X

 

Order from:

Michael Graves

The Phoenix Reading Series

P. O. Box 84

Dyker Heights Station

8320 13th Avenue

Brooklyn, NY 11228

 

Review/Interview By: Charles P. Ries

Word Count: 3,200

 

Adam and Cain is Michael Graves first full length collection of poetry. He work has been widely published, and well received within academic journal. In 2004 he was the recipient of a grant of $4,500 from the Ludwig Vogelstein Foundation.  He has taught full-time for The Pennsylvania State University and been an adjunct for various branches of The City University of New York for fifteen years. Currently, he is an adjunct at New York City Technical College of The City University of New York

 

When Carol Novack, Editor of the edgy on line literary magazine, Mad Hatters Review (http://madhattersreview.com/) asked if I would review a new book of poetry by a writer named Michael Graves I was expecting free verse, something crazy and narrative like much of the work I read on her site. I was surprised when the book I got in the mail was (what I have come to consider), academic in style – a style that often leaves me lost, losing interest, and running for my dictionary. In Adam and Cain, Graves uses the original story of sibling rivalry, and turns it into a morality tale that transcends its biblical origins. Using a series of nine long poems Graves tells his version of this story. Here are part #1 and #2 from the forth poem in this collection titled, “Cain to Adam”: “#1 / At first, / There was one, / Adam, the Master, / Unrivalled. / Now, / There are brothers / Who envy their father, / But tremble to show it, / It is not so, / Abel, my brother, / You, whose face I see / When I look for my own / in the still waters of dream? // #2 / I would do anything / To quiet the voice / That argues within. / The unceasing voice / That drives me to fight / With arrogant Adam - / That tyrant! / And rages and quails / At the peacekeeping gestures and words / Of smooth, solicitous Eve! // O, brother, blest is your peace!”

 

While I have written over one hundred poetry book reviews, I don’t have an MFA. I wondered if I was qualified to review a collection of poems as erudite as this one. Everything I know about poetry has been through my own reading, living in the small press, and talking with (mostly) non-academically trained poets. Maybe I not a fan of formal poetry out ignorance, but I just don’t find it accessible. I think this issue of accessibility is at the core of the debate I often see in the small press between academically trained poets and non-academically trained poets. Some, in the non-academic small press would say poets like Graves have lost contact with the people and common expression; and some in the academic press would say the work of non-academic small press poets is not informed through study, and has not progressed.

 

So what was I supposed to do? Toss this book or deal with it?  I knew certain poetry circles find Michael Graves work to be exceptional, and this made me curious enough to ask Graves if he would help me understand why I should care about his work. He graciously agreed to do so.

 

CPR: You are an academically trained writer; how does this training color or influence your writing?

 

MG: I am an academically trained writer, but one of the academics who trained me, James Wright, was a translator of and deeply influenced by twentieth century Spanish language poets such as Pablo Neruda and Cesar Vallejo, to mention only two.  He also translated Georg Trakl, an important early twentieth century Vienese poet, among other German writers. Wright’s association with Robert Bly is well-known so I think I don’t need to go into it here. The brilliant Joycean Leonard Albert who arranged my introduction to Wright frequently encouraged me to be sure to read “juicy” work not included in the canon. 

 

I think academic should be divided into at least two categories--the academic which honors and celebrates the archetypal, the universal, that approaches its subject rigorously, but humbly, say Socratically, with a genuine sense that basic assumptions and truths might be true but must be tested, explored, presented, etc., over and over and second the dead arrogant, prescriptive only academic. The letter killeth but the spirit giveth life. The arrogant academic would be that which honored only the canon of DWEMs –Dead White European Males, with only token exceptions, and it would assume it always had the final say as to what was worth reading and why. Dictionaries and those who work on them recognize the reality that language is a living thing and that words and meanings and usages phrases enter languages and become accepted, so why shouldn’t academics recognize that poems come into being and gain and deserve recognition, even if they compete with canonical works for attention.

 

CPR: Adam and Cain is your first full collection of poems; have you done chaps? How come so few books of poetry?

 

MG: I have a chapbook Outside St. Jude’s (REM Press, 1990) from an extremely small press that a friend, Remington Murphy published for awhile. It’s been reissued as an e-book by Ram Devineni who publishes Rattapallax. It’s available by going to the Rattapallax site and as a pdf. I also have a chapbook Illegal Border Crosser forthcoming from Gloria Mindock’s Cervena Barva Press

 

I have about another five to six hundred good or better than good poems on a wide range of subjects. I have one manuscript ready to mail out and the rest are waiting for me to find the time and energy to finish organizing into mss.  That work was interrupted by my mother’s death in March, 2006. Gloria Mindock is interested in publishing a full-length collection. Last but not least, this is an opportunity for a good publisher to get some of my work while it’s still available!

 

CPR: Do you rewrite your poems extensively?

 

MG: Though I rewrite some poems extensively, in general, the answer is no, but they have long gestation periods. Some are looked at over many years, five, ten, fifteen until I know what to do. They are often not finished when they come, but they are often close. I jot notes for poems all the time. And I have long stretches when I’m thinking about writing on and off all day long. I suppose I’m obsessive and don’t mind thinking about trying to transform my life, especially my inner life, into poetry. However, I know that writers can be extremely unreliable commentators on their own creative processes, like a narrator in a novel.

 

CPR:  In your Cervena Barva Press interview you say, “The book [Adam and Cain] was written slowly over many years. The initial impulse came to be during Leonard Albert’s course Religious Ideas in Modern Fiction, and I think the style of the poems might be indebted to Auerbach’s discussion of Biblical style in Minesis.” You also say, it was written in a ‘non-discursive in a high modernist manner.’ What is Minesis? What is a non-discursive in a high modernist manner?   

 

MG: I started the book with the short story Cain in Exile, originally titled Cain and written for Leonard Albert’s course in the short story, probably sometime in 1976-77. I finished the book in 2005. So, the book took about thirty years to complete. Mimesis is the transliteration of Aristotle’s word for imitation. He writes that art imitates life; mimesis is the representation of life. After that, it gets complicated: we could probably say that any poem or work of fiction imitates life. I think it becomes a question of by what means, in what style, what degree of success, what truth?

 

By non-discursive high modernist manner I mean that the transitions are left out between the poems and that the reader must think about the relationship of the parts without help from the writer. Also, the reader is not told how to interpret the work.  For example, he is not told Adam inflicts a psychic wound on Cain. The rationale is the writer need not tell the obvious to the reader and that the reader gets more pleasure out of participating in the creation of the text, and that the impact of what he gets is more powerful and profound, and that it is modern in a deep sense to give the reader the freedom to determine for himself.

 

CPR: What audience did you have in mind when you wrote Adam and Cain? Will my neighbors who shop at the Pic’n Save down the street enjoy this book?

 

MG: Everybody who’s interested in poetry. Everybody who doesn’t say I hate Biblical themes on principle. Everybody who doesn’t say there must be no difficulty in poetry.  Everybody who doesn’t say the Bible is the final word and no one can add to or subtract from it. Anybody who hears the music in the poems and imagines the human situation will feel their power. I have already had a wide range of readers buy or praise this book, readers without college degrees, from various ethnic groups, people from various walks of life.

 

CPR: A few of your metaphors in Adam and Cain were meaningless to me because I am not a biblical scholar; so in a sense these metaphors have not deepened my appreciation of your work, but obscured it. Maybe as we read widely, travel, think, experience life with growing awareness and evolve, our art reflects this insight and complexity of thought that come with our personal and creative growth. For example, we may use metaphors that are common to us, but uncommon to most people. I recently read a New York Times Book Review interview with a noted poetry critic who said she didn’t review poetry collections from writers born after 1950 because she felt so out of touch with some of the cultural images they were using (cartoons characters, TV. shows, cultural events, movies etc) images that were very clear to them, but not clear to her.

 

MG: Absolutely, there are books I could not do justice to. For one example, I find Allen Mandelbaum's, The Maxioms of Chelm beyond me, I have not found the time and energy to look up the terms I don't know, though I have spent some time looking for critical articles on it, but I love its music. Though I like to think one could sense/perceive that something is interesting, worthwhile, etc., even if one's grasp of it were limited.

 

CPR: Do you feel elevated or formal language, such as you use in Adam and Cain, looses its audience because it is difficult to grasp?

 

MG: No. My most important audience is composed of people who can enter and/or accept the book. In one sense, the audience by definition is the people who read the book. I’m not writing for people who won’t look a word up when necessary. I suppose it’s fair to call the language elevated, but I think the better term, which you mention, is formal. It carries no negative or satiric connotations. And there are plenty of poems in the collection that are made of easily understood mono or disyllabic words only.

 

CPR: You wanted Adam and Cain to be read; yet your writing style will not be accessible to most people. Why publish it?

 

MG: I’m not worried about being a best seller and I’m not sure my work won’t reach a wide audience. Nonetheless, I am aware that it is quite possible that it won’t. Perhaps this comparison would be helpful: getting to really know someone takes time and effort. Even though there is a place for connections that are immediate and wonderful, all too often, when we connect immediately and “completely” we are sorry later. Most of us would agree that long term relationships need investments of time, energy, willingness, open mindedness, dialogue, etc and we are very used to saying reading a book is a conversation… In addition, I think that Adam and Cain has qualities that a reader could connect with immediately. Sir Philip Sidney settled for, “Fit audience though few.”  I want as many fit audience members as possible, and I think a lot of them are out there. Whether or not I’ll reach them…

 

CPR: What attracted you to this morality tale? 

 

MG: I think the key moment came in Leonard Albert’s class Religious Ideas in Fiction or The Bible as Literature, when he pointed out that God gave no reason for His rejection of Cain’s gift in the King James Bible. To paraphrase, I thought something like “What an amazing thing.” I didn’t have these words but it pointed to God’s nature as Manichean and suggested Gnostic perspectives on Biblical texts were possible. I think there was also something deeply rebellious in me. I had already shown some of my writing to Professor Albert and he had voiced the opinion that I had an argument with God, very unMiltonic I suppose! And I had already discovered my conflicted anger, which might be too mild an expression, at my parents.

 

CPR:  In the same Cervena Barva Press interview you say Jame Joyce is a big influence of yours. The American writer, Max Eastman once asked Joyce why Finnegan’s Wake was written in a very difficult style and Joyce replied, “To keep critic busy for three hundred yeas.” Some critics considered this book a masterpiece, though many readers found it incomprehensible. I guess you don’t find Joyce incomprehensible? How come I do?

 

MG: I’m willing to read a lot of Joyce criticism and join Joyce reading groups.

 

CPR: Fair enough, but tell me why you love James Joyce and how has he influenced your writing?  

 

MG: Joyce was one of the very first writers I was exposed to after I returned to school and he represented the triumph of the artist over repression. The first of his works that made a major impact on me was Dubliners. Central to Joyce’s purpose in that collection of stories was the revelation to both the reader and the characters that the characters were trapped and paralyzed in a living death, although the naturalistic surface of stories remained undisturbed. I encountered those stories at a messianic phase in my life and they filled me with enthusiasm.

 

I have spent many years misreading Joyce in important ways and unable to penetrate much of his work, especially Finnegans Wake, but what was accessible to me was so immediately rewarding, so full of beauty, human importance, respect for art, intellectual interest and excellence, I have been willing to persist in my attempt to read him. It is said of Joyce that one only rereads him.  His work has inspired me to explore the sexual content of religious symbols and images, to strive to make theme/form and content inseparable, to explore indeterminacy in narrative sequences, to charge writing with as much meaning as possible.

 

CPR: Let’s talk about whether or not poetry can not be formal.  I believe this term (form) is most often used when referring to academics that choose to write within various forms (sonatas etc).  Yes, narrative poetry is a form; but for the most part narrative poetry, of the sort I find throughout the small press and enjoy, does not obscure.

 

MG: There is no necessary opposition between form and clarity. It could be argued that form is a clarity that emerges from the flux or obscurity of experience or that form is the underlying structure or can be. The sonnet, for example, is based on the statement of a situation or problem in the first eight lines, which reaches its fullest tension about the eighth line and the comment or resolution in the last six. It is a form that is true to the mind’s perception of experience: problem and solution. It is true that some forms, such as the sestina, if followed rigorously, are complicated and difficult. But even so, the content in a form need not be obscure; need not be filled with arcane or specialized facts or allusions. Narratives have formal elements, as I assume you agree—plot, protagonists, narrators, conflicts, symbols, irony, setting, situation, rising action, climax, resolution, images. I think the question is always whether or not they are well used.

 

CPR: It feels like our poetry worlds are, indeed, worlds apart. Do your students at NY City Technical College relate to your poetry?

 

MG: Surprisingly, yes, some of the students do relate to my poems. I read them a selection from Adam and Cain and my other work.  Of course, some of them have little interest in English and little if any of the course content seems to reach them. It’s not appropriate to read them many of my poems or spend a lot of time on them. I teach remedial writing and freshman composition.  And City Tech students are not succeeding at passing the CPE, the Competency Proficiency Exam, so there is great concern to get them ready for the Final exam.  I think that teaching poetry could be one way to try to get them enthusiastic about language, but our curriculum doesn’t really include that as much of an option. Our freshman composition course has a required text and there is only one poem in it, but I take a little time near the end of semester to give the students a sense of who I am as a writer, and some of them feel the emotion the poems generate and give –I can’t find the words,--grunts, wows, gasps. Not a whole lot of them, but some. This semester I had a student ask to purchase the book. I asked him to contact me after the semester ended, that is, after final grades went in. Though he asked twice, I haven’t heard from him, so he might have been hoping to influence his grade.

 

CPR: How old are you? What do you do for a living? Are you married? Do you have children?

 

MG: I’m 55. I work as an adjunct instructor; technically I believe the term is lecturer for the City University of New York and a reader for a faculty member at New Jersey City University with weak eyes. I’m single and don’t have any children. I still have fantasies, but I’m getting old….

 

CPR: We are both getting old; but (I pray) immeasurably wiser. Thank you for widening both my vocabulary and my mind with regard formal poetry and narrowing the great divide between academic and non-academic poets.

 

Graves earlier comment that, “long term relationships need investments of time, energy, willingness, open mindedness and dialogue” has timeless truth to it. How many times have I been surprised to become close with someone who after a first and second meeting I feel no connection with? Yet over time something begins to happen; we begin to be aware of something deeper. Through process of preparing this review I have had to look deeper, think deeper, and read again.  Adam and Cain was no fast dance, but I got through it. It was hard work, and I will read it again. After all, we’ve become friends.

 

____________________________________

 

  • If you would like to hear Michael Graves read his “Blatnoy Series go to: http://www.madhattersreview.com/issue3/poetry_graves.shtml

 

  • To find Michael Graves interview in Cervena Brava Press go to: (http://www.cervenabarvapress.com/gravesinterview.htm)  

 

______________________________________________

 

Charles P. Ries lives in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. His narrative poems, short stories, interviews and poetry reviews have appeared in over one hundred and sixty print and electronic publications. He has received four Pushcart Prize nominations for his writing, and most recently read his poetry on National Public Radio’s Theme and Variations, a program that is broadcast over seventy NPR affiliates.  He is the author of THE FATHERS WE FIND, a novel based on memory. Ries is also the author of five books of poetry — the most recent entitled, The Last Time which was released by The Moon Press in Tucson, Arizona. He is the poetry editor for Word Riot (www.wordriot.org) and Pass Port Journal (www.passportjournal.org). He is on the board of the Woodland Pattern Bookstore (www.woodlandpattern.org) in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.  Most recently he has been appointed to the Wisconsin Poet Laureate Commission. You may find additional samples of his work by going to: http://www.literarti.net/Ries/ .

 

 

 


Last update : 02-05-2007 19:43

   
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