A month or so ago, Saintseester invited me to see/hear Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Natasha Trethewey, who was appearing at ‘seester’s university in the next town. So I took this afternoon off to attend.
This is the kind of thing for which I need to find more time. Lea and I both had a fairly active cultural life when we met and began dating, and we carried that into our courtship, attending several plays, the symphony a time or two, and the like. Then, we stopped. Can’t even blame the boys’ appearance for such; it happened before then. Who knows why?
The result is that when I hold something like today’s event up to the right side of my brain, it bites my arm off at the elbow. I don’t realize how starved I am for it until I experience it. Dark and Stormy helps. A lecture and a play here and there will too.
Anyway, Ms. Trethewey is a daughter of the Mississippi Gulf Coast, born in 1966 to a white father and a black mother.
OK, process that location, time, and circumstance. Think she could find a thing or two to write about?
My first exposure to her was our December Dark and Stormy show. I liked both poems Saintseester brought to the discussion, but the one that stuck with me was Myth, which I was delighted to hear her read today. I’m still just wading into her work, so I won’t get into favorites in this post, because it will be a while before I know what they are.
Not everything Ms. Trethewey read today was angry. But what struck me time and again was what lovely things she had done with her fury. Her anger at prejudice, at a hurricane devastating her home, at thoughtlessly discarded emotion was severe. Even carrying that load, though, she had consistently gotten underneath her anger and found beauty. Call it “essence of complaint”—so effectively captured, yet so undiluted by gratuity.
I’m much looking forward to further exploration.
I should mention that I wouldn’t have autographed copies of her works had it not been for Saintseester. We stopped at the table on the way out, and I scooped up all three books (after ludicrously considering stopping at two). I was ready to go.
And ‘seester said, “don’t you want to get those signed?”
She’d already mentioned to me that Ms. Trethewey was really planning to sign at the evening session, and not the afternoon session we were attending, so I said “no, I don’t want to impose.” And ‘seester shot me an incredulous look, grabbed my Native Guard, and said “well, I will,” and took off toward her.
So (duh) I followed, and wound up enjoying a moment of pleasantries with Ms. Trethewey and getting all three of my books signed.
Thanks very much for the invitation, ‘seester. It was a blast.
You might also like:
- Dark and Stormy Book Club: what are you waiting for?
The Dark and Stormy Book Club is a year old this month. We have enjoyed rousing discussions of nine … - Three Men in a Boat
All right, I’ve had it. Many of you know about the Dark and Stormy Book Club, prominently linked on … - Alabamians Can Read
As many as eight or ten of you may remember the Dark and Stormy Book Club. Quoting my friend and col… - Bookstore junket
We all went out for Mexican tonight, and stopped by our neighborhood Books-A-Million afterward. I al… - Answers on books
Both of my co-hosts have done this one, and I like it, so I’ll do it too. ‘Sides, it gives me anothe…
Lovely Fury – you pegged it. And, I, too, need to indulge myself in that sort of thing more often. BB_Fan and I used to have season tickets to the theater league here. We went to everything (ask him sometime what his favorite musical is – ha ha).
I’m INSANELY jealous.
We’ve got a University right down the street – we really SHOULD do more culturally-oriented stuff. Sigh.
Aw, don’t be jealous! We saved the best for when you get here day after tomorrow. We’re gonna get shitfaced and go to the landfill and shoot rats.
Pulitzer, Shmulitzer.