Problems : I just got a note from the
Women’s Studies Co-ordinator here, whom I
had convinced to schedule a reading for
Jenny Josephs [sic] – and the note informed me
of a call she received from the Public
Information office about a serious conflict
On the 27th, the date she chose for
the Josephs’ [sic] reading. It turns out that
the 27th is the date of an art opening
and the alternative date for Mountain Day.
Unfortunately, a reading on the 28th
would conflict with the normal social
activities of a Friday night – few
students are likely to be on campus.
Under the circumstances, I can
think of only one thing to do: schedule
Ms. Josephs earlier in the week – or
early in the next week. Tuesday
the 25th is open, as is Monday the
2/
1st.
I guess the blame for all this is mine,
since I didn’t think to advise the
co-ordinator – who is brand new –
to examine the college calendar before
choosing a date. And I am very
sorry for the mix-up. But perhaps
we can make this work after all.
Please let me know if the 25th
or the 1st will work for you.
Jenny Joseph may have a reading at Colby
if she doesn’t mind a rather skimpy honorarium
of $50. The date and time: September 27 at
7:30 PM. I assume that the place will be
Alumnae lounge, where you read. I will let you
know soon.
I enclose a copy of “The Thin Man” – hope
you like it. I hope “Hair on Television” will
be ready soon.
More about the Joseph reading right away.
Please let me know if $50 is OK. Perhaps
I could get more if I were in charge
of reading this year, but I’m not, and $50
seems to be the limit.
Hello to Jane – Love,
Wes
THE THIN MAN
–Inside every fat man is a thin man trying to get out.
Once in a mirror
as it folded hair
back from its face
he discovered his eyes
lonely, yearning.
This was the beginning
of his life
inside the body,
of standing deep in the legs
of it,
held
in its elbowless arms.
And when it walked
he walked,
and when it slept
he dreamed of drowning
under its lakes
of skin.
Oh the thin man
trying to get out
learned of its great
locked breasts
its seamless chin,
the dead ends
of its hands.
And oh the heavy body
took him
to tables
of food,
and took him down
into the groaning
carnal bed.
The pitiless body took him
Thanks for your encouraging comments about
my poems.
You asked for fair copies of “The Thin Man”
and “Hair on Television.” I did send you copies –
at least I thought I did – of those two poems
in their revised form. In the event you did not
receive the copies of my later note expressing
the wish that they be sent on to The New Yorker,
here are two new copies and a new request –
to be relayed to Joey – that they be mailed
to the above magazine. Please tell Joey that in
exchange for his services (and his unshakeable
faith in my poems) I will gladly send postage and
envelopes at any time.
You will notice that the revision of my book,
a copy of which you have no doubt received by now,
is somewhat different from the revision I described
a couple of letters back. Again, I do hope you like
the new version.
Incidentally, I’ve never seen that Bly poem on hair.
Do you have a copy of it? Or where can I find it.
Here is a book by Jenny, which includes reference to earlier
books, and a famous anthologized poem. I know that I have been in
anthology with her and that poem, and I cannot find it. Maybe – doubltess [sic] –
it is somewhere in the Colby-Sawyer library. But then, it is somewhere
in my library too, and I cannot find it. Jenny is a bit younger than I
am, and has done a lot of BBC stuff and journalism of one sort and
another, as well as the books of poems which are of course what she takes
most seriously.
As far as I can tell, there would only be two possible days,
the 27th or the 28th of September. She is visiting with her daughter,
and has a lot of things planned ahead of course, and I don’t think
that she could stay around or come back.
Let me know just as soon as you can, please.
Well, I am delighted about Fran’s initial response also, and I know that I must not be “not too hopeful” and I hope to heaven you
know it also. Chances are, as ever, that we will not get what we both
want. But I hope that we do!
Don’t be disturbed about me feeling that things do not work. I
cannot remember ever having been wholly satisfied with anything by
anybody I know. [Written in margin: Or by me.]
I don’t feel more comfortable about that image with the o’s,
because I don’t know where the telephone linesman came from. I think
they have to be in there, cutting and making this unnatural, artificial,
man-made o. I was trying to imagine a natural one, which is what I felt
you had me imagining.
I don’t know whether the line would stress the car more than the
driving…I wasn’t particularly happy about the line that I suggested.
But I felt the lack of the bone, with the verb missing. I don’t think
that an incomplete sentence is really unusual syntax exactly. It didn’t
bother me as being peculiar or unusual or eccentric. It bothered me
as seeming somehow incomplete – I mean not just incomplete in the way
that it literally was. As lacking some essential organism to make it
thoroughly alive and vigorous.
I look forward to the two longish poems, heaven knows, and everything
else. Also to read the new order. I suspect that I will like it.
But it is hard for me to know without actually reading through it again
In the new way.
I told Joey and he says cool.
Love as ever,
Don
Editorial note about this letter: McNair is mistaken about having sent “The Thin Man” earlier and finally includes it with his next letter, on September 12. “Hair on Television” doesn’t reach Hall until McNair sends it on September 19. A note from McNair about this letter: Don asked for the fair copies of the new poems by telephone, telling me at that time about Bly’s poem on the subject of hair.
Needless to say, I am pleased, delighted in fact, that Fran
McCullough likes my manuscript. I will do my best to be “not too hopeful,”
as you suggest, and I send renewed thanks for your persistence in this thing.
Your confidence in my poetry gives me more strength than you realize,
as I forge ahead through revision after revision.
And of course I am glad you like the two poems—disturbed, too,
about what you feel does not work in each. How do the trees grow o’s, you
ask. I meant to refer in that image to the o’s which telephone linesmen
often cut around telephone wires. Please let me know whether my explanation
makes you feel more comfortable with the image. You have me worried…
Perhaps you are right about the verbless-ness of “Driving Poem.” I
guess I was hoping that the verbs in the which clause would carry the
poem well enough, in spite of the unusual syntax. About your suggestion,
“This is the room…”: Do you think the line would stress the car more
than the driving which the title refers?
I am working hard on two longish poems called “The Thin Man” and
“Hair on Television,” both of which I would like to put into the revised
book. They would go into section one, along with “For My Father” and
“The Bald Spot,” so that the section would give a sort of overview of
the personal and some of the public concerns of the book’s narrator.
Section two would begin with “Old Trees” and would move to the other
regional poems of the present section one—i.e., “Fire in Enfield,”
“Leaving the Country House” and “Memory of Kuhre.” Each of those poems
contains a certain play of present and past—especially the latter—and
so they would lead logically to section three, which would include all
of the poems in the present sections two and three except for the “dirty
poems.” “Driving Poem” would fall just before “Country People,” the other
drivin g [sic] poem of the collection, in section five. The sections woud be
called “The Thin Man”(1); “Memory of Kuhre”(2); “Going Back to Fifth Grade”(3);
“The Faces of … (4); and “Country People”(5).
I hope you find that my revision strengthens the book, and I hope to
be able to show it to you before long. Thanks, as usual, for all of
your help and advice.
Love to both you & Jane,
Wes
P.S.: Please explain to Joey that I will be sending him
poems as soon as they are ready –
No, I have not seen work by Jenny Josephs,
but if you say she’s good, we are interested in
having her in September. Since readings by women
are often co-sponsored by the Women’s Studies
program here, I should have some bio material on
Ms. Josephs to pass around – and to use later
for publicity. It would be nice to have a poem or
two by her also.
I will have to check with others before I can
say “yes” absolutely. But a reading in September
does at this point seem quite likely.
Thanks for the suggestion – and please send
bio stuff as soon as possible –
Good to have your letter. These are good poems. I have a couple
of questions. I guess I cannot quite see how they grow o’s. I can
see them growing over or under. I guess I can see one branch going over,
and another under, which do not touch but visually cross each other…
but an o seems too symmetrical, possibly? I love the cadence and
feeling of this poem, and then I am a bit disturbed by finding it
visually not exactly perceptible.
Again, I like the language of Driving Poem very very much – but
I am troubled by the syntax, wanting it to be a sentence and finding
no way to turn it into a sentence. Do I take it that the “room” is
the driver’s seat of the car? Or perhaps more accurately the car itself?
I might wonder about having a first line like: “This is the room…”
Joey would always like to have more poems to send out, if you
feel like it letting him.
I do have considerable hope that you will find your GM – or that
some decent GM will find you. And in fact, I have good hope for Harper
and Row. It does not mean any more than it says, but it is a fact
that Fran McCullough likes the manuscript very much. She wants to look
at it some more, and confirm herself in her feelings – and I don’t think
this is a sinister doubt. But the problem is elsewhere. It takes her
a long time, and a good deal of effort, to get a book of poems accepted
by the powers that be. The poetry-schedule is full up for a while.
She cannot even bring the subject up, to the powers that be, for a while.
And when she does, if she does decide to push your book as I hope and
mostly believe she will, the powers that be may not take to it,
or may feel that they cannot take on another books of poems at that time.
Therefore, you are to be pleased that she likes her work, you are to be
hopeful but not too hopeful, and you are to sit tight! OK?
None of which should deter you from going right ahead with revising
your manuscript and so forth. About the “dirty” poems, I too feel
ambivalent. I am not sure that they belong there – but I am not certain
that they don’t, either. Make your decision against them this time.
Be prepared, possibly for some argument on another occasion.
It has suddenly occurred to me that I never answered your
good letter about my book and where it might be published. This
lapse does not indicate my indifference – far from it. In fact,
I have taken your words so seriously, making them part
of a conversation with myself, that I’ve forgotten to communicate
with you about my responses.
In brief, then: While I would probably consider publishing
a second book of poetry – perhaps a second, smaller collection –
with a small press, I would rather place my first book
with a “name brand” publisher – a “GM,” to quote you.
It’s that I’ve spent years putting this collection together,
and I’d like to make the biggest splash possible with it.
In the event that I can’t find my GM, I’ll try the other
alternatives. And thanks, by the way, for putting the case
for publishing with the small press so clearly before me.
I’ve been working on a handful of poems – some of which
will appear in the revised^ as per your suggestion manuscript of my book. I
enclose two of the poems for the revised manuscript. I will
send others as they are finished. I’m pulling the two
“dirty poems” out of the book – they seem to break
2/
the tone of that section and the book as a whole – and I’m
changing certain sub-groupings and sub-headings.
You will be the first to see the final product. I write
so much and so little that I frustrate myself, and
everyone else, I fear. Still, I hope to have the new book
for you soon.
In the meantime, thanks for all of your encouragement.
I would be lost without it.
All the best to you and Jane,
Wes
DRIVING POEM
In the room
which makes trees go by
and grass run
along the edge of the slow
field and farmhouses turn
small and far away
revealing one
by one their windows
Thank you for that good letter. If I have been a help, I am
delighted. And I don’t mean to be false
[Written in margin: ly modest]
about it: I have been a help!
But I am delighted to have been, and want to continue to be.
I like that cartoon. But I don’t think that your situation
is quite so desperate!
I think your saturation-bombing approach is excellent. And I
would indeed submit to all of these places. Including the Walt Whitman.
The University of Illinois is getting its books around. Princeton
does a very good job. Carnegie-Mellon makes very attractive books,
and mails them to people. I don’t think it would be a bad deal.
Heaven knows, Houghton Mifflin would be the best deal. And I will
mention things to Jon Galassi. But that means little. They will get
at least a thousand manuscripts.
So will most of the places. Which always makes it a lottery.
I have been doing some more thinking about small presses, not
with you in mind, but just in general. That phrase covers so many
different things. I would not publish with Ithaca House. I’m not sure,
really, that I would publish with New Rivers – but more likely. I would
publish with Sheep Meadow. Or with Alice James… First of all, I
would publish with Greywolf. Do you know of that? They publish Tess
Gallagher, and do lovely books. “They” is a young man named Scott Walker,
whom I met at the NBA thing about small presses, where Jane read her
poems. A terrific, energetic young man – who makes his living by
publishing poetry! Obviously, the secret ingredient in such a “living”
is, as Pound would put it, low overhead. But he does, doing everything
himself – editing, designing, overseeing the printing, distributions,
sales, wrapping packages…
I liked him enormously, his vigor and intelligence. He does not
think of himself as some sort of bush league. He just wrote me a letter,
saying – freshly, cockily – that if established poets really liked small
presses, how come they never made small presses their major publishers?
I think I was being solicited, but I am not certain.
I told him that I was very fond of Fran McCullough, and would stay
with her out of loyalty – something which I think will shock him; I think
that will sound to him like being loyal to General Motors. But he is not
prepared to be some sort of farm system. He wants to be the continuing
publisher of terrific poets who never leave his stable. Tess Gallagher
has had opportunities to go elsewhere, but she will stay with him.
[Written in margin: So far, anyway.]
Distribution for small presses is getting better and better. It is
probably not quite so good as big presses, but in many ways it is less
frustrating. The thing about a small press, when it is expertly run like
2/
this one, and a few others, is that the author benefits from the
absolute, total, undivided attention and commitment of the publisher.
I cannot say that for Harper & Row! Fran McCullough cares, but she
does not handle marketing, distribution, remaindering, advertising,
promotion, and wrapping packages, the way Scott Walker does.
All I am doing – with you, and I will do the same thing with
a few other people – is to recommend re-thinking the notion of
the big publishers and the little ones.
I would be lost without you. Ever since
your generous recommendation that I be
invited to read at read at Marietta College, you
have sustained me as a writer. Your
advice, your bolstering of my confidence,
have quite literally kept me going.
These things are being written,
I’m convinced, somewhere in heaven.
Do you remember the cartoon of
the two doomed men, deep in the
dungeon, manacled to the wall by
hands and feet, a small window
far above their heads, one turning
to the other, saying, “Now here’s
my plan”? Now here’s my plan.
I have consulted my Coda Awards
List booklet and have found that
there are fully five publishers who invite
manuscripts in the fall. They are: Houghton
Mifflin, Wesleyan, U. Illinois, Princeton,
Carnegie Mellon. In addition, there is the
Walt Whitman Award Competition, ending
with the publication of the winning book
I have decided to mail my book to the five
publishers (or most of them) and to the
Walt Whitman Award Competition, and
to cover myself with telegrams in the
event of success with one of the above.
By the fall, I will have improved my
manuscript (as you suggest) in any
way possible.
What do you think? Specifically, what
do you think of the inclusion of U.
Illinois, Princeton and Carnegie Mellon
(esp. the last)? Would the book get enough
play if I were favored with acceptance
at any of these places?
Un million de gracias, as the Chileans
say, for all your help. You save my life.