Just what does a Poet Laureate do?

I was looking over the works of W.S. Merwin the other day and it occurred to me that I’m not sure exactly what a U.S. Poet Laureate is supposed to do. Maybe the trouble is that there is no set responsibilities laid out by the Library of Congress. Perhaps there should be.
Merwin was named the country’s 17th poet laureate last week replacing the outgoing Kay Ryan. I’m not suggesting this is a bad choice. Merwin certainly deserves the honor. Born in New York City in 1927, a currently residing in Hawaii, Merwin has won just about everything a poet can, including two Pulitzer’s, the National Book Award,  a Governor’s Award, the Pen Translation Prize and the Lila Wallace Reader’s Digest Award.
He is part of a great group of modern poets, all born around the same time, a contemporary of Robert Bly, Adrienne Rich, Robert Lowell and Allen Ginsberg. And like those poets, his most influential work (mostly about the Vietnam War) came in the late 1960s and early 1970s, including The Carrier of Ladders, which won him his first Pulitzer.
His second Pulitzer came just last year, for The Shadow of Sirius, a somewhat perplexing collection about memory and age and the limits of life. In fact, much of Merwin’s later work involves the theme of memory, and time – likely an influence of his affinity of Eastern tradition and an almost Zen-like introspection of work.
In one lovely piece from The Shadow of Sirius, Merwin reflects on his own poetry, but of course “Worn Words” is an allegory to his own later years: “The poems are the ones / I turn to first now / finding a hope that keeps / beckoning me.”
Still, just a year after winning the Pulitzer, after having served as a poetry consultant for the Library of Congress, and being of a certain age, the Laureateship feels more like a final reward than an actual, active job, at least in Merwin’s case.
In a New York Times story on the announcement, Dana Gioia, the former chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts, said that Merwin was “an inevitable choice” for poet laureate implying that if a poet can just last long enough the award will be his.
That hasn’t always been the case. Robert Pinsky was in his 50s when he was Poet Laureate from 1997-2002 as was Billy Collins, 2001-2003. But the role of the laureate has always been a bit mysterious.
First, the laureate receives $35,000. At one time, that was a lot of money and could conceivably allow the poet to dedicate the rest of his life to his art. Now, that amount is just a stipend.
The poet is also given the responsibility of overseeing an ongoing series of poetry readings at the Library of Congress.  Not a bad gig, but in reality the poets don’t have the time or money to go shipping back and forth to Washington. Merwin isn’t going to be leaving Hawaii anytime too soon, so the readings will ultimately be put on by the library in the poet’s name.
Other than that, the poet’s are charged with “promoting poetry.” Given that promoting poetry is something they have likely already been doing for most of their lives, that responsibility just plain seems silly.
So, here’s a suggestion: how about the Library of Congress actually become a patron of the chosen poet. Instead of just throwing a couple bucks at him and setting him off to promote poetry, the Library should promote the poet itself – like a publisher would or a promoter. They are already giving him $35,000, why not use that money to promote his books? After all, if the poet is ostensibly picked because he’s done so much good for poetry, why not take that poet public so to speak.  Wouldn’t that do more to bring these great voices to the public? Let’s face it, local poetry presses are usually universities to begin with and they can’t push a poet’s work like a Random House can.
Poets and the institutions that highlight them like the Library of Congress need to break out of the self-masturbatory trap of promoting poetry from within. All this glad-handing does little other than stroke a poet’s ego. Let me ask you this: W.S. Merwin, arguably one of our greatest living poets has been writing and publishing since 1952. Have you heard of him? Maybe the Library of Congress should stop handing out rewards and start promoting their poets before they are 82 years old.
W.S. Merwin has published more than 30 books of prose and collections of poetry, along with about 2 dozen translations. Here’s a short list of his best:
The First Four Books of Poems (2000) Merwin’s first four books individually are hard to find. Try this instead.  It includes A Mask for Janus (1952), The Dancing Bears (1954), Green with Beasts (1956), and The Drunk in the Furnace (1960). Merwin’s early work is moving, raw and highly expressive.
The Second Four Books of Poems: The Moving Target / The Lice / The Carrier of Ladders / Writings to an Unfinished Accompaniment (2000) The collection brings together Merwin’s most accomplished works, including his Vietnam books and The Carrier of Ladders, which won his first Pulitzer Prize.
The Shadow of Sirius (2009) – No punctuation and a single first capital letter. Merwin is seasoned here and this time-themed collection is both elegant and weighty. He won his second Pulitzer for this collection.

The Typewriter is Holy: The Complete and Uncensored History of the Beat Generation, by Bill Morgan, Free Press, 2010, 250 pages

In honor of the New Hampshire slam poets’ marathon, why not look back on the poets who started it all? The poetic pedigree of today’s slammers is the Beats, and Bill Morgan knows a thing or two about the Beats. A librarian by trade, he was the bibliographer of most of them, including Allen Ginsberg, who was his friend. In fact, Morgan is pretty much the Beat historian, having written or edited dozens of books on the Beats.
The Typewriter is Holy is an early comprehensive history of the formation of the Beats, from their early friendships to their cultural impact to their deaths.
In his introduction, Morgan makes the connection between the beat circle of Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, William Burroughs, Neal Cassady and others to the transcendental movement of the 1840s with Emerson, Thoreau and their crew. It’s an apt connection.
But to Morgan, whereas Emerson was just one of many transcendentalists of the time, Ginsberg is crux of the Beat Generation. “The Transcendental movement wouldn’t have been as tasty without Emerson,” Morgan writes, “but the Beat Generation never would have existed with Ginsberg.”
And so it goes, with Ginsberg the center of this ever circulating wheel, constantly pulling and pushing poets, writers and thinkers into and around this circle.
The point of the book is to give a basic history of some of the writers who created the hippie movement, drug experimentation, slam poetry and youth culture in this country. It’s well annotated and informed. It’s not anything terribly new, however. Plus, because Morgan is so close to the subjects, much of the drug abuse and crimes committed by these folks are either ignored or simply waved off as the foibles of smart guys creating art.
If you are just beginning to explore the Beat Generation, this is a fine book to begin your journey. If you’re looking for a deeper, more complex look at this very complex movement, keep looking.

Slam Free for 7 days

As you read this, in a kitchen in Manchester, seven poor and no doubt hoarse slam poets are attempting to set a record. It’s a record that won’t be recorded as such, even though technically it appears it may be a Guinness-worthy attempt. If they succeed, they won’t win a prize or even make the local news.
They are following a long tradition in American poetry — begging and asking for help. If you’ve ever attended a reading at Bridge Café — even if you hated it — you should check this out.
On Wednesday, July 7, at 7 a.m., the seven-member 2010 Slam Free or Die Manchester Team began a week-long, 24-hour-a-day poetry reading. The marathon is a fundraiser to get the team to St. Paul, Minn., in August to compete in the National Poetry Slam. They’re looking to raise about three grand.
Not much in the grand scheme of things, but for seven poets all under the age of 30, standing in a kitchen, reading to the fridge, that’s a mighty large amount of cash to raise.
So, the marathon.
Look, I’m not a fan of slam poetry, but I am a fan of desperate and crazy ideas. Staging a 168-hour-long reading seems a throwback to what turn-of-the-century poetry excelled at — outrageousness. From the Victorian salon, where poets served tea and cake to potential sponsors, to the milk crate on the ground in Central Park, you have to hand it to this team.
You have to love poetry to do this. Also, I imagine you have to love pizza, coffee and Ramen noodles.
Not to mention the fact that even if this team wins in St. Paul, they are still in the hole. After a $500 registration fee, plus airfare, hotel, food etc., the winning team takes home $2,000. And a trophy.
The team’s coach, 27-year-old Mark Palos, says there’s something bigger than money at stake: bragging rights. Palos, whose moniker is The Colonel, told me that many of the poets who make it to the finals are able to go on national tour just based on that notoriety.
So, seven team members, seven days. Each will have a day. During their day, each featured poet will not sleep, and he or she will read for two hours, then get a 15-minute break. During those breaks, the team is looking for fans and supporters to sign up and fill in the spaces. They will read their own work, and some of their favorites of other poets. There will likely be some prose thrown in there as well.
How will they make money? Well, you can always just give them money. They have a PayPal account set up through Facebook. Or you can pay a couple bucks to fill in the break slots with your own work. Or you can pay to make requests.
This is all live, at The Colonel’s house, and also via streaming feed. So you can just tune in at 2 a.m. if you can’t sleep and watch this group go.
Here’s a brief schedule of who’s up and what you might expect:
Wednesday, July 7, Beau Williams, 22, of Dover, mix of humor and deeper philosophy.
Thursday, July 8, Sam Teitel, 23, of Somerville, Mass., specializes in autobiography.
Friday, July 9, JeFF Stumpo, 30 Portsmouth, experimental.
Saturday, July 10, Tim Veilluex, 30, Portsmouth, wry humor and satirical current events.
Sunday, July 11, Mark Palos, 27, Manchester, surrealism, humor, study of extremes.
Monday, July 12, Mckendy Fils-Aime, 22, Manchester, high dramas and epic notes.
Tuesday, July 13, Krista Mosca, 28, Nashua, intense personal introspection.
So, stop by The Colonel's kitchen at 363 Lake ave., Manchester or check out the live video feed through the Slam Free or Die Facebook page at www.facebook.com/#!/slamfreeordie. If you can’t find it, or are not a Facebook addict, drop me an e-mail at danszczesny@gmail.com and I’ll direct you there.

Poetry’s finest non-poet passes, leaves legacy of NH's Frost Place

Don Hall said of the Frost Place that it was a special place dedicated to poetry, not to poets.
It’s an important distinction to make in the wake of the passing of Donald Sheehan, founding director of the famous poetry sanctuary in Franconia. Sheehan died May 26 at his home in Charleston, S.C. He was 70.
For those who label themselves poets, but have never pilgrimaged to Frost Place, shame on you. Robert Frost and his family lived and then spent summers at the old farm in Franconia from about 1915 to 1940. The famous front porch, where frost wrote, overlooks the White Mountains.
For New England poets and lovers of poetry, it’s a place of serene quite and thoughtfulness, and worthy of a day trip. With its old mailbox with “Frost” painted on the side, to the trails in back where Frost walked, it’s a monastery of poetry.

And its fame is due mainly to Donald Sheehan. From 1977, Sheehan served as the Frost Place’s executive director. Each summer, the Frost Place awards a fellowship to an emerging American poet, including a cash stipend and the opportunity to live and write in the house for several months. In addition, The Frost Place has sponsored an annual Festival and Conference on Poetry.
Sheehan was not himself a poet. But he knew a good poem when he read one! He was also a teacher and critic at Dartmouth. Put bluntly, Frost Place, and New England poetry would not be what it is without Sheehan.
Sheehan’s vision was simple? It’s about the poem, stupid. No matter the standing, or the ego, of the resident poet, poets abided by their words. Nothing else mattered. Follow that simple rule, a Sheehan would write one of his legendary introductions for you, hold your hand through the poetry universe and be your greatest supporter. Cross him, dare to put on airs, and you would not be asked to come back.
The lessons of Sheehan’s Frost Place can be applied today. Poetry is non-hierarchical; words matter, focus on the poem, not the poet, and all poetry will be better off. Poetry is community-minded; poets are the philosophers of art, a poem is there to provide insight and depth to the human condition, not to the poet’s condition. Poetry should be informal, but serious; learn to laugh at yourself and your work will take on deeper depth. Poetry should be rejuvenating; even when a poet goes to a dark place, the reader should understand his own life better and act on that understanding. A poet is accessible; no one is better than you, no poet stand taller than the rest.
Sheehan was a deeply spiritual man, who took humility and strength of character seriously and personally. Visit Frost Place. Visit quietly, and reverently, like it’s a church or temple. Listen to what Sheehan’s Frost Place tells you. Then shut up and write.

In honor of Donald Sheehan, here’s a short list of Robert Frost books. If you are a poet, wish to be a poet, or enjoy poetry, Frost’s first five collections should be on your shelves.

A Boy’s Will (1913) Published in England, the book has few famous poems but allowed Frost to enter into the circle of poets, including Ezra Pound. Read: “Mowing”

North of Boston (1914) The big one, one hit after another. Frost begins early to cement his style and fame. Read: “Mending Wall,” “After Apple Picking”

Mountain Interval (1916) The most famous modern English language poem is released. Read: “The Road Not Taken”

New Hampshire (1923) Frost’s ode to the Granite State won him the Pulitzer. Read: “New Hampshire,” “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening.”

West-Running Brook (1928) The famous title poem stood out, but Frost’s mature style makes this collection memorable. Read: “Spring Pools,” “Tree at My Window.”