Right Now, Write Now

“Where I’m from, if you tell your mom and dad you want to write poems for a living, they have no clue what that’s about,” Ms. Taylor said. “It can be very isolating. I never had a mentor until graduate school. That made all the difference.”

One non-profit organization is attempting to make that kind of difference available to girls much earlier in life.

Girls Write Now is a New York-based organization developed in order to “provide guidance, support, and opportunities for New York City’s underserved or at-risk high school girls, enabling them to develop their creative, independent voices, explore careers in professional writing, and learn how to make healthy choices in school, career, and life.”

GWN combines a one-on-one mentoring program with creative writing training, putting high school girls in contact with poets, novelists, and other writing professionals, in order to model leadership to a new generation of women writers.

Founded in 1998 by Maya Nussbaum, a creative writing major at Columbia, GWN has worked with almost 6,000 young women through weekly meetings, monthly writing workshops, and college prep. The program was featured in The New York Times in 2008, and recently received the Coming Up Taller Award for youth arts and humanities work.

One of GWN’s most compelling features is the relationship it builds between mentor and mentee. As the program’s founder told The Christian Science Monitor in 2005, “These girls are often learning how to write from the mentors, but the mentors are often learning how to live from the girls.”

When literature and writing act as a catalyst for this type of caring, two-way relationship, it would be difficult to deny the positive influence that words — in conversation or on paper — can have in the life of another individual.

On the Lighter Side…

In a marked break from the heavier reading of graduate school, I’ve finally had the chance to read something a little less dense, albeit perhaps equally philosophical in its own way.

I’m referring to a book with the intriguing title: Ophelia Joined the Group Maidens Who Don’t Float: Classic Lit Signs on to Facebook, by Sarah Schmelling.

I first encountered Schmelling when her essay “Hamlet: Facebook News Feed Edition” exploded into popularity. Her book (Plume 2009) takes the humorous thread of her earlier work and runs with it…and keeps on running.

This is neither a serious review nor a serious book, but I have to say, I’m enjoying it immensely.  My favorite moment so far is a toss-up between “Twenty Questions for the Author of Beowulf” and “The Bronte Sisters Play Scrabulific!”

Other tantalizing snippets, as well as links to purchase the book, are available on Schmelling’s website.

What can I say? It’s Saturday…

Literature for…Counseling

It all comes down to words.

Reading a book and counseling someone through a period of grief may seem to have little in common, but both practices depend on words.

Many works of literature — poetry like that of Dylan Thomas or Derek Walcott, novels like those by Arundati Roy or Toni Morrison or Don DeLillo, plays like Greek or Shakespearean tragedies — are built around a central trauma or psychological breaking point. The words that construct their narratives are concerned with how humans deal with traumatic experiences.

Even as the characters come to grips with their situation or are broken by it, the narrative structure — how the trauma is portrayed — is also a way for the author and reader to make sense of tragedy.

Just as individuals deal with trauma in different ways, literary works also vary. Some express the unspeakable nature of trauma. The source is never identified, and tragedy is evinced only in what is never said. Others use an effusion of sensation and words in an attempt to bury the source–to forget. Some lash out. Others internalize. Some pretend indifference. Some seek answers. Some choose despair.

While a counselor may offer coping mechanisms and encourage a healthier response, his or her tools are predominantly words. It is up to the individual to choose a course.

In a similar way, works of literature cannot replace or force change in a reader, but they can offer perspective. They can offer catharsis or hope. They can offer alternative models and paradigms.

This is not to say in any way that novels should replace a conversation with a caring and skilled counselor: literature can offer hope, but it is equally capable of feeding despair. However, I think the links between counseling and literature are worth considering for several reasons.

First, as a reminder that authors, readers, critics, and teachers can have a real impact on others through the words they choose, especially when dealing with the experience of trauma.

Second, as a reminder that dealing with tragedy (whether global or personal) involves deciding how to tell a story: it is a verbal process as well as an internal one, requiring a listener as much as a pharmacist.

Finally, to suggest that our stories are not meant to be told in isolation, and to recognize the need for relationship and community in dealing with our own and each other’s periods of darkness and grief.

Star-Cross’d Vampires

Not to be too dramatic in an angsty teenage way, but the end truly is imminent. Last week, I was in Barnes & Noble, when I saw it.

A huge display of Twilight books and memorabilia.

Big deal, you may reply. True, true. But wait–there’s more.

Below the Team Jacob and Team Edward pennants and the books and the calendars and…(I could go on)…was a smaller display. More New Moon books, I thought. If only it were that.

Instead, a closer look at the black covers emblazoned with tantalizing red and white flowers revealed none other than Romeo and Juliet, Pride and Prejudice, and Wuthering Heights.*

Travesty. Outrage. Take your pick.

After the initial furor subsided, I thought with some amusement about the scene which might ensue if an unsuspecting girl age 10-15 should be duped into opening one of the above-named books by the mistaken belief that it contained bonus Twilight footage or a compilation of Edward’s secret diary entries.

Just for fun, I picture the tableau unfolding something like this…

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“Mom!!!” Tina bursts into the home office, her shoulder-length brown hair spilling across her face. She skids to a stop, breathing heavily. “Something’s wrong with Bella!” she gasps.

Mom looks up from her computer. Tina’s tone is desperate, and tears are already forming in her eyes. “What’s the matter?” Mom asks carefully, steeling herself for the flood. Tina hasn’t looked this distraught since the day Dumbledore died.

Tina slams a book down on the nearest surface, sending a shower of papers fluttering to the floor. “This!” she exclaims dramatically, gesturing to the book.

Mom is not surprised to see the black cover with the brilliant scarlet flower in full bloom. Similar books and memorabilia have engulfed her daughter’s room for months. She sighs. “What happened?”

With a frown, Tina picks up the book and thumbs through it. “Aunt Laura gave me this book for Christmas. She said it was a new sequel to Twilight, whatever that means.” She stops, flips back a few pages, and continues. “But look — Bella’s talking all funny,” she says, reading out loud: “I’ll look to like, if looking liking move: But no more deep will I endart mine eye than your consent gives strength to make it fly.” She looks up, clearly frustrated. “But she didn’t like to move,” she says with a pout. “And — and — “

Mom’s mouth twitches. She briefly wonders how long she can keep this going. “Tina — ” She hesitates.

Tina doesn’t wait for her to finish. “What I don’t get,” she says, tossing the book on a stack of office supplies and brushing her hair back from her eyes, “Is whether Jacob or Edward is helping her fly, and why they had to stick pins in her eyes to do it!”

Mom studies her fingernails attentively.

Tina doesn’t seem to notice. She keeps picking the book up and setting it down. “I think she must have had some kind of poison,” she says firmly. “Maybe the Volturi were trying to transport her secretly to Italy, and all the werewolves and vampires time traveled there instead.”

“Maybe so,” Mom murmurs, biting her lip.

“That’s it!” Tina snaps her fingers. “That’s what gave them amnesia, so they don’t remember their names!” She finishes triumphantly, beaming.

Nodding, still studiously looking away, Mom says in a choked voice, “Sounds interesting, sweetheart. Aunt Laura will be glad you liked it.”

“There’s just one thing,” Tina says slowly, staring at the cover of the book. “I don’t get why Stephanie Meyer subtitled it ‘William Shakespeare.’”

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That’s just how I picture it.

*Humor aside, if Twilight-esque covers or Bella’s stamp of approval encourages teens to read classic literature, well…maybe it’s worth it. Maybe.

Literati on the Decline?

Who cares?

It’s a simple question, but one I’ve found to haunt graduate study in English. Is what we do meaningful? What gives it meaning? and Who decides? are three big questions for which I would love to have an answer…but do not.

That’s one reason I’ve chosen “The Decline of the English Department,” by William M. Chace, the recipient of a “Sidney Award” from New York Times columnist David Brooks, for the first ProfoundNet of 2010. This essay examines the wax and wane of the humanities in higher education. Here’s a snippet:

With everything on the table, and with foundational principles abandoned, everyone is free, in the classroom or in prose, to exercise intellectual laissez-faire in the largest possible way—I won’t interfere with what you do and am happy to see that you will return the favor. Yet all around them a rich literature exists, extraordinary books to be taught to younger minds.

As a disclaimer, I firmly believe that lovers of literature exist not only in higher education or professional classrooms. Nor is it necessary to have a graduate–or even undergraduate–degree in order to appreciate literature.

However, I do think the state of higher education in the humanities reflects certain characteristics of society at large that are troubling.

I agree with many of Chace’s claims. Trends toward utilitarianism or theorization have fragmented and weakened literary studies. In today’s economy, financial considerations are a valid concern in the humanities. And although I am less willing to separate literature from cultural and socio-political concerns, or to isolate British/American literature in a closed curriculum, I too am frustrated by the difficulty of defining literary studies.

Like Chace, I’m also hesitant to promote simple solutions.

With caution and some skepticism, Chace lists changes under consideration in academia: increased emphasis on teaching rather than research for tenure; greater recognition for the teaching of rhetoric and writing; renewed appreciation for literature’s power to inform, to delight, and to persuade; and preservation of literature as a distinct field.

What I would like to see is a treatment of literary study that is diverse but purposeful:

• That denies neither the influence of biography, intent, history, and material culture on writing, nor the way language works outside of authorial intent.
• That acknowledges the influence of literature on politics, culture, and identity but does not lose sight of its unique properties.
• That analyzes and theorizes the textual characteristics of literature and culture together but does not deny the pleasure of reading.
• That seeks to foster thought and growth on an individual level through teaching as well as reading and writing.

In 2010, although I’m realistic enough to keep my expectations limited, I hope to shape my personal studies, as much as possible, with similar aims.

Thanks, Dr. Chace, for a thought-provoking essay.

New Year’s Reads

Around New Years, “change” is the word on everyone’s lips. New resolutions, new diets, and new fashions are on the rise. In keeping with the spirit of the times, here’s a list of some of the new books I’m excited to read when they come out in 2010.

Tea With Hezbollah – Ted Dekker (Doubleday, Jan. 26). This account of a best-selling author’s personal foray through the Middle East looks promising, if only to see how a suspense writer attempts to portray–without sensationalizing–the Middle East. The book’s big question: “Is it possible to love our enemies?” is also compelling.

The Summer We Fell Apart - Robin Antalek (HarperCollins, Jan. 5). The author’s debut novel looks at broken families through the eyes of four siblings. Character-driven explorations of family relationships interest me, and I’m curious if this novel will be able to add anything new to the genre.

House Rules – Jodi Picoult (Simon & Schuster, March 2). Some call Picoult’s novels emotionally manipulative, but I have to admit, I really enjoy her presentation of tough ethical and relational questions.

Point Omega - Don DeLillo (Scriber, Feb. 2). I haven’t read White Noise, but I’m a big fan of Falling Man. DeLillo’s latest, which revolves around questions of identity, belonging, and documentation, looks like another good read.

The Captive Queen - Alison Weir (Random House, July 20). Weir is an excellent historical fiction writer, and I’m interested to see what she does differently with the narrative of Eleanor, having previously read her Eleanor of Aquitaine.

What about you? What are you excited to read in 2010?

Favorite 5 of 2009

Among the 60-plus books I read this year, a few have stood out as new favorites. It’s hard to choose, but I’d have to say my top 5 are as follows:

1. Woman At Point Zero – El Saadawi: A short book, but incredibly powerful and thought-provoking, about silence, power, love, and what it means to be free.
2. In the Time of the Butterflies – Alvarez: Poetic, dramatic, and well-crafted as well as a moving story about fighting for the right to live freely.
3. A Prayer for Owen Meany – Irving: Epic, character-driven, and deals thoughtfully with big questions about life, fate, and faith.
4. The Vagrants – Li: A gut-wrenching but beautiful picture of love and humans who feel not only pain but also compassion.
5. The Lemon Tree – Tolan: A well-written, well-researched, and singular story about common ground in the Arab/Israeli conflict.

Here’s to a New Year of more great reads! What’s on your top list for 2009?

Christmas in Poetry

Christmas Eve
Christina Rossetti

Christmas hath a darkness
Brighter than the blazing noon,
Christmas hath a chillness
Warmer than the heat of June,
Christmas hath a beauty
Lovelier than the world can show:
For Christmas bringeth Jesus,
Brought for us so low.

Earth, strike up your music,
Birds that sing and bells that ring;
Heaven hath answring music
For all Angels soon to sing:
Earth, put on your whitest
Bridal robe of spotless snow:
For Christmas bringeth Jesus,
Brought for us so low.

Holiday Poems, Holiday Joy?

This year, the first female British poet laureate wrote a Christmas poem for the Radio Times. It’s called “The Twelve Days of Christmas 2009,” but many of the people reading it are not chiming in with “Five go-old rings.”

That’s because Carol Ann Duffy’s poem is not your typical peace on earth, good will toward men Christmas jingle. Stanza nine (“nine ladies dancing”) includes the lines:

9. BUT THE DEAD SOLDIER’S LADY DOES NOT DANCE.
But the lady in the Detention Centre
does not dance.
But the honour killing lady does not dance.
But the drowned policeman’s lady
does not dance.
But the lady in the filthy hospital ward
does not dance.

…and so on. The poem is an indictment of contemporary world issues ranging from global warming to the financial crisis.

Duffy’s lack of Christmas cheer has drawn comments from many directions. The National in the UAE suggests that Duffy is following her predecessor, Andrew Motion, who veered away from the feel-good, laudatory poems of previous poet laureates. A writer for the U.K. Daily Mail says that, besides being depressing, it’s just bad poetry.

When Duffy was appointed, The Guardian called the post “poetry’s most prestigious job,” and Prime Minister Gordon Brown praised her ability to place “the whole range of human experiences into lines that capture the emotions perfectly.” Duffy herself said she wanted to see the role become “more people’s poet than monarch’s bard.”

If that is the foundation of “Twelve Days,” I think there is certainly validity in stepping away from role of poet-as-sycophant.

On the other hand, although poetry may be uniquely situated to call attention to social problems otherwise ignored or made commonplace, I wonder, in a world of newspapers only too ready to emphasize the tragic, is there not another role that poetry might play?

Perhaps I am biased, but while I value honest poetry that does not sugarcoat the world, I also value the ability of a poet to cast glimpses of what could be, as well as what, lamentably, is.

During the holiday season, when depression is already high, it seems there are two extremes it would be desirable to avoid: 1) creating unreal expectations and false happiness that only disappoint; but also, 2) refusing the possibility of real joy and hope by dwelling on only the ugly and the joyless.

Literature for iPhone

Because I care deeply about literature, I’m always interested to see new and innovative ways that others are coming up with to share literature on a broader scale.

That’s one reason I’ve chosen “Promoting Lit in the Digital Age: Electric Literature Co-Founder Lindenbaum on the Menu” by Amanda Ernst of Fishbowl NY for the next ProfoundNet. Here’s a snippet, quoting Lindenbaum, the founder of a new electronic literary magazine:

“We are trying to use new media and innovative forms of distribution to make sure that those stories are delivered back to the popular culture in the digital age. And we want to make sure that literature remains vital,” Scott said about the project. “So in order to do that, we kind of adopted a new distribution system where we distribute to the iPhone — we’re the first literary magazine to the iPhone. We also distribute in every digital form for all ereaders from Kindles to all ereaders in every file format.”

The journal publishes five stories per quarter. For hard copy request, the magazine uses Print on Demand to minimize costs and maximize payment to writers. Although the success of such ventures remains to be seen, I’m impressed by the  founders’ innovation and use of convergence to allow new literature to reach the greatest possible number of individuals.

For more information about the journal, or to subscribe, visit www.electricliterature.com.

Thanks, Amanda, for a thought-provoking story.