I'm obsessed with Paul Auster's books. This is part of a longer story. However, last night I was at a local new bar in the greater GNPT/WBG area with a friend. I left my Auster book...well...somewhere. So, I called the bar and said 'Hey, it's Jennifer. Did you find my book?' The person on the phone was not the owner {who knows me} but some girl who said, "Hey, you know that girl, like with MS, did she leave her book her." O.k. Miss brilliant. I don't have MS -- I have cP -- and I not a 'girl' I'm nearly forty and have a kid. I don't like being described as 'the handicapped girl' anymore than you like like being described as the brainless hipster.
Where is my book!?
Monday, May 12, 2008
Anxiety, Disability and Paul Auster
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Oregon
In a few weeks we will leave for our yearly summer in Oregon. I have to say, I've got one foot out my New York door. Moving from New York seems an impossible task, yet one that lingers. Partially, this desire to leave comes from my perceived inability to find a home in the New York Poetry world. I find I can't fit in, and I can't completely hide either. The west -- a kinder, gentler place -- might give the opportunity for one ... or the other.
Friday, May 09, 2008
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Paul Guest/ John Ashbery
In a blurb for Paul Guest's new book, Ashbery calls the book 'invalid's rage.' My question, why would Ashbery say such a thing and why would Guest let him? Invalid (or in valid) in my book is one of the most offensive terms (short of retard) that a people with a physical disability can be called. It would be likened to putting a blurb on Ashbery's book calling him a crotchety old fag. And it is untrue. While I am conflicted about Guest's work, I hold him in the highest esteem as a person. Not only is he attractive, friendly, smart, and warm but he has also gone far, far beyond where most able-bodied ports will: books with Ecco, a good professor job, and so on. Guest is in no terms an invalid, So, I wonder what's going on. For starters, I think the politically correct police need to give ole John a good kick in the head. He's a poet, after all, doesn't he know the power of words? Perhaps I am stupid. Perhaps it is mean ironically. If so, will other get the joke?
Monday, April 21, 2008
Women Poets on Mentorship: Efforts and Affections

Finally, Rachel Zucker and Arielle Greenberg's long awaited "Women Poets on Mentorship: Efforts and Affections" is out. You can read an interview with Zucker and Greenberg in How2 shortly, along with a few 'samples.' Also included in my How2 piece (This Condensary) are interviews with Susanna Fry and Joanna Furhman, Eileen Myles and Jennifer Firestone, Shin Yu Pai and Renee Rossi and an essay on Rukeyer by Jen Benka.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Which Books could Poetry not Live Without?
I have been following Ron Silliman's writings about the Williams Carlos Williams award. Silliman says he wanted to pick a book that would "was a book that would change poetry itself, deeply & permanently." This led me to some thinking. What does this mean exactly and which books do I hold dear accomplish this?
First, one could argue that every poem (with a captured reader) changes poetry deeply. They may only change an audience of one (which in the poetry business is not uncommon) but a change occurs none-the-less.
This is what led me to differenciate between my 'personal' list and my 'global' list. Some poems I credit with 'altering my life' are (titles may be off, as I am writing from memory) Akhmatova's Monday Night, Michael Palmer's Dearest Reader, Mary Oliver's Wild Geese, Rachel Zucker and others poems on motherhood, Robert Hass' poems from "Human Wishes," parts of Patterson, Before the War, and Maximus poems, Howl AND Kaddish, From this Condensary by Lorine Niedecker, The Greenhouse Effect by Lee Bartlett (and his biography of Bill Everson), any number of Jorie Graham's poems, everything by Muriel Rukeyser, and the lines (close to them)
I don't know how the hip hop kids do it
but I love it.
By Fanny Howe.
This, of course, is a beginning list. However, have any of my little poets 'changed' the course of poetry history? If not, who has? Ironically, Sillman, as he knows!, is a good place to start with changing poetic history. He pretty much 'invented' the poetry blog and has been sucessful at being the best source, although I see Reginald Shepard inching in. Sillman also, of course, did "In the American Tree." Need I say more.
However, he can't be entirely credited in this 'changing.' There are, of course, all the poets in the anthology and my father who wrote the seminal 'What is Language Poetry?'
Onward, I'm not sure if Mary Oliver's poetry, as much as I love it, can "change poetry itself, deeply & permanently." But, she has done something miraculous in the culture. In 2008, Oliver has convinced over 500 people at any given time that they will go to a poetry reading and pay $25 to do so. Now, that's a miracle. Is she getting advice from Mick Jagger? Even Michael Palmer who, in my small opinion, is the best looking, smartest, nearly most talented poet alive, only got a hundred or so people at the New School.
I know many people might argue, but the only possible answer to the question did Ginsberg, Olson, and Duncan change poetry history is Well, Yes. I know this may not seem feminism enough, but the fact that they were men (and in Olson's case, an asshole) does not make their talent less. Rukeyser, Dickinson, and Stein all had their influence as well. One might even ask, would there be LP if there were no Stein? Would there be Graham or Oliver if there were Dickinson?
This brings us to the 'heavy social' hitters. The guys with Ecco Press and big jobs. Jorie Graham. I think she's a fucking genius -- also very good looking. But, where does she fit? What about Robert Pinsky? Stanley Kunitz? Billy Collins? They all write (or did in Kunitz's case) solid, good books. But, will they "change poetry itself, deeply & permanently." I'm not sure, and perhaps it's too soon to tell.
I think some one like Mei Mei Berssenbrugge might have a better chance.
Perhaps poetry is like The Bible. You get to have it good in this life or the next.
You get to work at Iowa or Harvard OR toil in obscurity.
What poets have changed your life -- globally or personally?
Friday, April 11, 2008
The Frida Show
Ron Silliman got me interested in seeing the Frida Kahlo show. Yesterday, a friend and I traveled to Philadelphia to see it. With a little luck and good timing, we managed not to wait in line and the audience was sparse. As Silliman said, the paintings were nothing less than spectacular. My exhaustion from the trip keeps me from writing much, but a few things did strike my interest.
I adore Kahlo, In my small, stupid opinion, she was one of the last century's most important painters. The fact that that list would, unfortunately, largely dedicated to men, is part of what makes Frida a great feminist. As Silliman notes, unlike Plath, Kahlo didn't kill herself. Instead, she made art. As a young-ish handicapped woman prone to constant mood swings, this realization was very poinent for me yesterday, particularly after falling into a morass because a woman turned to my friend (referring to me) and asked her "How does she make it up the stairs?" A more appropriate question might have been, "How does she make it through the world?"
But, I digress.
In this respect, and many others, Kahlo is a champion of feminism. More importantly, she is also a champion of crippled people, of pain, of the alternate body. People never say it, and she wouldn't herself, but she is a disability activist. A crippled woman who was powerful, sexy, and had a string of men on her arm.
That said, I do find Frida's relationship to Diego as making her 'feminsist status' problematic. She did pine after a guy, after all.
More Soon.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
For April Writing Month
This means to say, I want to avoid the world.
Oregon wraps her body around mine.
A list of dailiness, the fragmentation,
the problem in a business of poetics
and one self-crippled young person.
Embarrassed to say, this morning,
I ran across a picture of Frank O'hara
in the New Yorker.
I kissed it.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Feminist Art
Yesterday, after seeing the PS 1 feminist show, I went to panel discussion "Beyond the Waves: Feminist Artists Talk Across the Generations." The talk included the fine artists and critics Carolee Schneenmann, Mira Shor, Brynna Tucker, Susan Bee, and Emma Bee Bernstein. I was looking for answers, but like any good thinking, the talk led me to more questions.
First, I want to note, among the topics discussed -- and they made a point of recognizing them -- were racism, gender, ageism, feminism, sexism, transgender, and so on. As usual, disability was the glaring absence. We have entered a culture where artists will speak about transgender BEFORE disability. I think the problem is not maniacal. I think that people tend to focus what is on their radar. I think people with disabilities (and their problems) are still very oppressed in our society -- so that even the most sensitive thinkers aren't aware. I find this to be a problem.
The question I asked was what makes the WACK show a feminist show a feminist show? I felt like there is no answer -- even the artist who attempted to address the question weren't sure. That brings me to my further question -- what is feminism and am I one?
My understanding is that feminism is about treating women equal and supporting their decisions. If this is true, why is there so much devision and oppression BY women going on? Let's pick on the suicide girls for a minute. I have read that they believe they are dispelling myths about feminine beauty. Oh really? After a short cruise through their photos I am pressed to find a black woman, a disabled woman, a woman with small boobs, a woman who weighs over 105 and a woman without an enormous amount of makeup on. I'd like to see a naked overweight black lady with one arm. Of course, then, they'd label it 'fetish.'
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Wack at PS !
Yesterday Julia and I went over the bridge to see WACK!: Art and the Feminist Revolution. The first wonderful thing was seeing Thomas who runs the bookstore. I didn't know he had that job -- cool. The second thing was that we were surprised by how wonderful the show was. There was a fair amount of work that was tedious, including the pieces that said 'Angry Marilyn', 'Angry Jennifer' and so on. Okay, you're angry -- we get it. Others bored me a bit. Some were so powerful that they were painful to look at -- particularly collages of neato sparkling houses with war scenes out the window. For me, some of the highlights were the 'stone' painting, the woodcuts, the Aunt Jaminina with a gun. And a few artists I already new about -- Aliice Neel, Eva Hesse, and Francesca Woodman. I must note that we only saw the first floor.
But, as much as I liked the show, I have a few questions. More notably, what makes all of these pieces 'feminist'? If I think and think, I might be able to attribute some feminist qualities to each piece perhaps, although that is not necessarily how I would think of them. I found myself wondering what made this or that work feminist. The work struck me as coming from many different points of view: anti-racist, sublime, figurative, abstract, feminist, and anti-war. Some were just, well, art works by women.
Julia pointed out that they probably used 'feminist' as a marketing scheme to draw in the crowd. This has worked. An unnamed source tell us that this has been one of the most successful shows ever. But, I am very uncomfortable with using the term 'feminist' to market stuff -- if this is the intension. Isn't this going against feminist ideals -- we are ultimately 'marketing women' because of their gender. Our household feminist, JIM, argues that men have had their shows for years, and women have been excluded and he's right.
Here's my very radical feminist idea...why call it a feminist show or a women's show? Why not slap the men in the face and just call it a show? Isn't that what men have been doing for centuries?
