Saturday

Aug. 24, 2002

Coming

by Kenneth Rexroth

SATURDAY, 24 AUGUST 2002
Listen (RealAudio) | How to listen

Poem: "Coming," by Kenneth Rexroth from Sacramental Acts: The Love Poems of Kenneth Rexroth (Copper Canyon Press).

Coming

You are driving to the airport
Along the glittering highway
Through the warm night,
Humming to yourself.
The yellow rose buds that stood
On the commode faded and fell
Two days ago. Last night the
Petals dropped from the tulips
On the dresser. The signs of
Your presences are leaving the
House one by one. Being without
You was almost more than I
Could bear. Now the work is squared
Away. All the arrangements
Have been made. All the delays
Are past and I am thirty
Thousand feet in the air over
A dark lustrous sea, under
A low half moon that makes the wings
Gleam like fish under water-
Rushing south four hundred miles
Down the California coast
To your curving lips and your
Ivory thighs.


It was on this day in the year 79 AD that Mount Vesuvius erupted in the south of Italy and buried Pompeii and other cities in volcanic ash.

It's the birthday of poet Robert Herrick, born in London, 1591, best known as the author of "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying, And this same flower that smiles to-day To-morrow will be dying."

It's the birthday in Roseau, West Indies, 1890, of novelist Jean Rhys, author of Wide Sargasso Sea, which came out in 1966. She moved to Europe when she was young, and worked as a dancer, model, and chorus girl. In the 1920s and '30s she became famous for a series of short stories and novels about bohemian life in Paris: The Left Bank, and Good Morning, Midnight.

Malcolm Cowley, the literary critic, historian, editor, poet and essayist, who was best known as the most trenchant chronicler of the so-called Lost Generation of post-World War I writers, was born in Belasco, Pennsylvania on this day in 1898. He lived in Paris in the 1920s, in a circle that included Ernest Hemingway, William Faulkner, F. Scott Fitzgerald, John Dos Passos, Hart Crane, E.E. Cummings, Thornton Wilder and Edmund Wilson. He was a valued editor at The New Republic, later at Viking Press, where he worked, at least part time, until he was 86. He rescued William Faulkner from early oblivion by publishing a collection of his short stories in 1946, and writing a wonderful introduction to the book. It was also Cowley who discovered John Cheever and goaded him to write. Later, he championed Jack Kerouac and Ken Kesey.

It's the birthday in 1899, Buenos Aires, of the Argentinean poet and short-story writer Jorge Luis Borges. He was raised in the poor district of Palermo, and he learned English before he learned Spanish-his father came from British ancestry, and taught at an English school. Borges was the director of the national library. By the time he reached his mid-50s, he suffered from total blindness, a hereditary condition that had also afflicted his father. It forced him to abandon writing long texts, and to dictate work to his mother or secretaries or friends. The books from this period combine prose and poetry: The Dreamtigers, The Book of Imaginary Beings, and The Book of Sand, are a few.

It's the birthday in Sheffield, England, 1936, of novelist A.S. Byatt, born Antonia Susan Drabble. She's the author of Possession, which won Britain's Booker Prize in 1991, the story of two academics and their research into the lives of a pair of Victorian poets.


Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.®

 

«

»

  • “Writers end up writing stories—or rather, stories' shadows—and they're grateful if they can, but it is not enough. Nothing the writer can do is ever enough” —Joy Williams
  • “I want to live other lives. I've never quite believed that one chance is all I get. Writing is my way of making other chances.” —Anne Tyler
  • “Writing is a performance, like singing an aria or dancing a jig” —Stephen Greenblatt
  • “All good writing is swimming under water and holding your breath.” —F. Scott Fitzgerald
  • “Good writing is always about things that are important to you, things that are scary to you, things that eat you up.” —John Edgar Wideman
  • “In certain ways writing is a form of prayer.” —Denise Levertov
  • “Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.” —E.L. Doctorow
  • “Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.” —E.L. Doctorow
  • “Let's face it, writing is hell.” —William Styron
  • “A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.” —Thomas Mann
  • “Writing is 90 percent procrastination: reading magazines, eating cereal out of the box, watching infomercials.” —Paul Rudnick
  • “Writing is a failure. Writing is not only useless, it's spoiled paper.” —Padget Powell
  • “Writing is very hard work and knowing what you're doing the whole time.” —Shelby Foote
  • “I think all writing is a disease. You can't stop it.” —William Carlos Williams
  • “Writing is like getting married. One should never commit oneself until one is amazed at one's luck.” —Iris Murdoch
  • “The less conscious one is of being ‘a writer,’ the better the writing.” —Pico Iyer
  • “Writing is…that oddest of anomalies: an intimate letter to a stranger.” —Pico Iyer
  • “Writing is my dharma.” —Raja Rao
  • “Writing is a combination of intangible creative fantasy and appallingly hard work.” —Anthony Powell
  • “I think writing is, by definition, an optimistic act.” —Michael Cunningham
Current Faves - Learn more about poets featured frequently on the show