EP&M Online Report
GADFLIES OF
THE STATE
The changing role of America’s state poet laureates
by Tanya Angell Allen
“You’ll catch hell for this.”
-Amiri Baraka to Governor James E. McGreevey
on Baraka’s appointment to poet laureate of New
Jersey
Saddam Hussein’s henchmen used
to kill dissident poets by shoving pages of books down their throats until
they choked. Josef Brodsky, Nina Cassian, and other Russian and Romanian
poets sought asylum in the United States because their own governments persecuted
them for their poetry and political beliefs. When Carolyn Forche was
in El Salvador several years ago, a colonel invited her to dinner because
he mistakenly thought that American poets’ words were regarded as highly
as those of poets in his own country. At one point of the dinner he
brought in a brown sack, opened it, and spilled human ears onto the table.
According to the notes Forche took afterwards and later turned into the prose
poem “The Colonel,” he started speaking:
“I am tired of fooling around, he said. As for the
rights of anyone, tell your people they can go fuck themselves. He
swept the ears to the floor with his arm and held the last of the wine in
the air. Something for your poetry, no?”
Perhaps because they have the freedom to concentrate on
other, less urgent subjects, American poets are in general less likely than
poets of other countries to write about political issues. When they
do write political poetry they usually do not have to risk their own personal
safety, especially because the audience for poetry is smaller in America
than it is in other countries. However, at this moment forty one American
states honor poets with state laureateships, posts which some consider to
be actual government positions. Over the past two years some of those
laureates and other poets have also gained national attention through writing
and speaking about the September eleven attacks and the invasion of Iraq—attention
which some of them, such as Amiri Baraka and anti-war poets Marilyn Nelson
and David Allen Evans, would probably not have received if they didn’t already
hold honorary posts. In late April 2003, the first-ever conference
of poets laureates was held in New Hampshire to talk about poetry and politics,
a gathering the New York Times describes as having “an aura of self-congratulation…with
many of the poets extolling what they said was poetry’s newfound power.”
Until recently, state poet laureates in these honorary
positions were regarded as lightweight, folksy writers whose works were sold
as tourist paraphernalia at roadside restaurants. Those laureates who
were “real” poets, (as opposed to song-writer John Denver—much loved poet
laureate of Colorado from 1974 until his death in 1997, or Assemblyman Charles
Gus Garrigus, who held a life-time appointment as poet-laureate of California
because he punctuated each legislative session with a poem) sometimes read
nature poems before their state legislatures, or gave readings at public
schools. This was usually more than was expected of them, however,
especially as legislators and the general public viewed state poets as quaint,
benign creatures, much like state birds, state songs, and state fish.
Then, in the nineteen-eighties and nineties, rap
music and Spoken Word poetry began bringing national attention to poetry.
Also, in April 1991 Dana Gioia’s essay “Can Poetry Matter” was published
in the Atlantic Monthly. The essay urged poets and teachers to bring
poetry out of the Academy and into the public arena. Some consider
the piece, as Gioia writes in his introduction to the tenth-anniversary edition
of his book titled after the essay, “an early manifestation of a Zeitgeist
already in the making,” especially because it generated more mail from non-academics
than any other Atlantic article had in decades. Along with the interest
generated by the new emphasis on oral poetry, it also helped sound a much-needed
wake-up call to literati across the country.
In the past dozen years America has answered Gioia’s question,
“Can poetry matter?” with a tentative yes. In testimony of this, Gioia’s
introduction mentions Garison Keilor’s “The Writer’s Almanac,” the Poetry
Society of America’s “Poetry in Motion” efforts to put poetry in city subways,
the Academy of American Poets’ National Poetry Month campaign, the publication
of poetry in some newspapers, and a plethora of specialized on-line poetry
journals. Other symptoms of poetry’s forays outside of the Academy
include the continued popularity of the Nuyorican Poet’s Café, Robert
Pinsky’s “Favorite Poem Project,” Russell Simmons’s “Def Poetry” on HBO and
on Broadway, and the outreach done by energetic poets laureate such as Robert
Hass and Billy Collins.
State poet laureate positions have also changed from honorific
titles for mediocre poets to jobs for literary evangelists and, in some states,
literary superstars. Although many states still have poets who are
not widely known, New York has John Ashbury; Iowa, Marvin Bell; New Jersey,
Amiri Baraka; Connecticut, Marilyn Nelson; Florida, Edmund Skellings; Georgia,
David Bottoms; and Maryland, Michael Collier. Sharon Olds was once
a New York poet laureate. And although she was appointed long before the
current change in poetry’s stature, Gwendolyn Brooks was the poet laureate
of Illinois from 1969 to her death in 2000. Brooks’ dynamic work with
her state’s schools may have been an influence on the now-increasing demands
and qualities of many other state’s poet laureates.
Because of the success Brooks and other laureates have
had in inspiring children to read poetry, some legislators have also begun
using the positions for advancing state-wide literacy. When Governor
Ruth Ann Minner named Fleda Brown as state poet laureate of Delaware, for
instance, she said that “One of my top priorities for Delaware is to improve
reading comprehension in our state. By discussing poetry with Delaware
students and others, Dr. Brown will also promote the importance of reading.”
There
currently are poetry-advocates in the White House as well. In February
2003 First Lady and librarian Laura Bush organized a forum on “Poetry and
the American Voice,” which was cancelled due to the intended protests of
anti-war poets, whose aborted crusade made national headlines. The
Bush administration has also assembled a State Department anthology on what
it means to be an American writer. The anthology includes poets Elmaz Abinader,
Billy Collins, Robert Creeley, Julia Alvarez, Linda Hogan, Naomi Shihab Nye,
and Robert Pinsky. It is currently being distributed through American
embassies throughout the world in hopes of improving foreign opinions of
the United States.
Although some members of the Bush administration seem
to have an appreciation for the power of poets and their words, many state
legislators know less about the poets in their own jurisdictions. In most
states the poet laureates are chosen by panels made up of arts administrators,
professors, and poets from neighboring states. Sometimes legislators have
final approval, and sometimes, as in New Jersey, they have no hand in the
selection. This can be dangerous for legislators, especially if they don’t
have a comprehension of how politically dangerous poetry can be, or of how
much poetry, even in America, really does matter.
II
Poetry matters so much that on January 23, 2003 the New
Jersey senate voted to abolish its state poet laureate position completely.
The senate came to this decision after New Jersey state
poet laureate Amiri Baraka’s repeated public readings of “Somebody Blew Up
America,” a rant whose most controversial lines, “Who knew the World Trade
Center was gonna get bombed./Who told 4,000 Israeli workers at the Twin Towers/To
stay at home that day” imply that Israel was involved with the World Trade
Center attacks. In national TV interviews Baraka has also claimed that
George Bush and other Western leaders knew about these attacks in advance.
Baraka’s ideas are based on conspiracy theories spread
most commonly on the Internet, as well as on the idea that, because blacks
have been the victims of so much terrorism in America already, black people
cannot get as upset as the rest of America over the September 11 attacks,.
Critics of Baraka claim that he is Anti-Semitic, his words designed to, as
Shai Goldstein of the Anti-Defamation League says, “perpetuate the murder
of millions of Jews in Israel.” Baraka claims that his critics are
racist.
Although those who wish to censor him seem to be violating
Baraka’s First Amendment Rights, Goldstein maintains that those are not at
issue. “The issue,” he says instead, “is whether someone can hold an
honorary state position while dishonoring the state by making bigoted statements.”
Baraka’s position, unlike those of other states’ laureates, is not purely
honorary, either—he receives a stipend paid for by the New Jersey taxpayers.
Even without the anti-Semitic charges, Baraka’s poem and
subsequent comments are troubling for their use of misinformation.
This includes the line “Who told 4,000 Israeli workers to stay home that
day,” which is a logistical impossibility, as there have never been 4,000
Israelis working at the World Trade Center. Governor McGreevey has
said that “Clearly there needs to be a bright line between poetic license
and governmental discourse,” and Baraka and others have pointed out that
exaggeration is a common poetic tool. However, as poet laureate of
New Jersey, Baraka is seen as a spokesperson for the state, and his poem,
as McGreevey regretfully says, “sets forth falsehoods as fact.”
The wording of the position, created in 1999, was put
in such a way that Baraka could not be fired. He has also refused to resign,
saying that his resignation would “repress and stigmatize independent speakers
everywhere.” Because of this the Senate brought in legislation
for the purpose of doing away with the position all together. The vote
to abolish the position was 21-0, with nineteen members, including all six
black senators, abstaining.
The vote must still go before the New Jersey Assembly.
In case the Assembly does not cast the same vote, the Senate is currently
working on a bill that will allow them to censure Baraka. It is unknown
whether the state will continue to seek candidates for this position—if it
survives the Assembly vote—after Baraka has finished his term.
New Jersey’s situation brings up important questions about
the place state poet laureates actually have in their governments.
Are these “government positions,” or are they, as former national poet laureate
Robert Pinsky has described them, “honorary terms”? Being appointed
to be a poet laureate “is like being given a compliment,” Pinsky has said.
“The poet laureate of New Jersey has the same right as any other American
to make a fool of himself. Compliments can be regretted, but not revoked.”
III
One reason that we don’t have a clear definition of the
term “state poet laureate” is that our laureate positions are relatively
new. Britain has had poet laureates since 1616. America has had
state poet laureate positions since 1915, when California gave the honor
to Ina Coolbrith—a poet, journalist, and librarian who influenced Jack London
and Isadora Duncan and who was friends with Samuel Clemens and Charles Warren
Stoddard. Although we have had national poet laureates since
1937 it wasn’t until 1986 that the position’s title was changed from the
“Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress” to “Poet Laureate Consultant
in Poetry,” a change in semantics that elevated the national position’s stature
and also contributed to the state position’s rise in respectability.
Because our tradition is based on Britain’s, Jim Haba, a member of the New
Jersey Council for the Humanities Committee that nominated Baraka to that
state’s laureate position, was quoted in the New Jersey Record as saying
that “Creating the national and state positions of poet laureate involves
grafting a British model, begun under a monarchy, onto an American-style
democracy with egalitarian ideals. This is a challenge, and New Jersey,
situated between two great cities and with a dense, varied population, often
leads the nation with certain types of challenges.”
As for the facts about state poet laureates, they differ
from state to state. Some states, such as Alaska, alternate between
“state poets” and “state writers.” Other laureates such as Virginia’s
George Garrett are more known for their critical work and fiction than for
their poetry. Garret has even said that one of his goals as laureate
is to “open up the definition of what constitutes a poet to include other
writers.”
Some states offer stipends, although even at their highest
they usually amount to what the poets could pick up in a couple of readings.
Baraka’s stipend, (which the government is currently trying to withhold)
is $10,000 for a two-year term. Vermont offers a stipend of $1000 for
a four year term. Maine offers no stipend. Poet laureates often
have to spend money out of their own pockets for travel expenses to readings
and other obligations.
The lengths of their appointments also vary from state
to state. In New York the appointment is only for one year. In
other states, such as Illinois, the position is a lifetime appointment.
In most states, what the poet is to do with the position
is undefined. Poets are often asked to “promote creativity,” a task
which can be interpreted in different ways. In some states the poets
are asked to give a couple of readings in schools across the state.
In others, such as California, poets are required to take on one two-year
project to bring poetry to children and other people who might not otherwise
be exposed to it. Kenneth W. Brewer, newly-appointed poet laureate
of Utah, plans to establish a video archive of Utah writers reading their
work to audiences or writing it in their homes. During his time as
poet laureate of North Carolina, Fred Chappell had 250 public engagements.
In a farewell essay written at the end of his term he says that “…I visited
venues of every sort, from Rotary and Optimists clubs, retirement homes,
churches, book clubs, libraries, bookstores, civic centers and so forth.
You name it and I was there, reading from the work of North Carolina poets
from A (Betty Adcock) to Z (Isabel Zuber).”
Poet laureates are sometimes asked to write occasional
poems. Marie Harris, the poet laureate of New Hampshire, was asked
to write a poem celebrating the minting of the New Hampshire quarter.
Gwendolyn Brooks voluntarily took Chicago as one of the main subjects for
her writing, once saying “I wrote about what I saw and heard on the street…I
lived in a small second-floor apartment at the corner, and I could look first
on one side and then the other. That was my material.”
These appointments take up valuable time. Individuals often ask poet
laureates for help with publishing or their own projects. Former state
poet of Vermont Ellen Bryant Voight once said that “Even were I paid grand
sums, if I were to go off to all these invitations I would not write another
poem for four years.”
These expectations make the positions more difficult than they would be if
they were simply “compliments.” Although most states do not have clearly-defined
expectations for their laureates, the poets who hold these positions are
setting precedents for those who come after them. Connecticut’s first
poet laureate, James Merrill, viewed the post as an honor. After accepting
it, however, he was almost never heard of in that capacity again, preferring
to concentrate on writing his own poetry. Connecticut’s second poet
laureate, Leo Connellan, was an energetic laureate, working closely
with students and others across the state. He did such a dynamic job
that Connecticut’s third poet laureate, Marilyn Nelson, complained at length
during a recent AWP panel on state poet laureates that because of Connelli,
the expectations of her were overly-high. She had been hoping to be
able to treat the job more as Merrill had, especially because of rapidly
increasing successes in her own writing career.
The amount of work involved in these positions sometimes
scares poets away from applying for them or allowing themselves to be nominated
for them. California had a great deal of trouble in filling its last
poet laureate position. Although the state is home to such big-name
poets as Adrienne Rich, Sandra McPhereson, Gary Soto, Gary Snyder, Robert
Hass and Lawrence Ferlinghetti, none of these heavy-weight poets applied
for the position. The search was actually mocked in various newspaper
columns, and one satirist even wrote a popular “No California Poet Laureate
Blues.” “The reason they’re having trouble,” Ferlinghetti has been quoted
as saying, “is we’ve had a long tradition of the poet as defined by Plato’s
Republic, the loyal opposition, a gadfly of the state.”
Ferlinghetti has also said that “Any sort of official
position is a disaster for the creative person.” His words turned out
to be true for the poet finally picked for the position, Quincy Troupe.
Although a popular laureate, Troupe resigned after the state discovered that
he did not have a Bachelors Degree from Grambling State University in Louisiana,
even though his resume claimed he had.
IV
Gadflies such as Baraka, Troupe, and the anti-war poets
may have put the future of these odd positions in danger. Out of the
forty one positions, only nine are vacant right now. However, at a
time when state budgets are being cut like mad, these might be easy positions
for legislators to put on back-burners, especially if they are wary of potential
political trouble brought on by volatile poets. Because of Baraka and
Trope’s experiences and because of complaints of high profile poets such
as Marilyn Nelson, other potential state poet laureates too may become more
wary of taking on the positions themselves.
Adrienne Rich, one of the poets who did not apply for
California’s laureate position, once turned down a medal from the National
Endowment for the Arts because she disagreed with the Clinton administration’s
politics. In an essay entitled “Why I Refused the Medal for the Arts,”
she writes, “There is no political leadership in the White House or the Congress
that has spoken to and for the people who, in a very real sense, have felt
abandoned by their government.”
It may be regrettable that Rich didn’t apply for the California laureate
position. Politically minded, enormously gifted, sane poets such as
herself are the ones who would do the most dynamic, sociopolitically influential
work in state poet laureate positions, speaking for and to the people who
are usually unheard.
At a time of great foreign and domestic upheaval such
as America and the rest of the world is experiencing right now, when all
viewpoints need to be heard before complicated political issues can be thoroughly
considered and ethically weighed by legislators and their constituents, we
need our poets. Our country needs people who are trained in expressing their
viewpoints—whether liberal or conservative, sane or crazy, upsetting or soothing.
We need poets as brave as those in countries such as Russia, Iraq, Romania,
and El Salvador.
State poet laureateships are strange things, the “need”
for them chuckled over like the “need” for state fish. Yet laureates
can use what little prestige is attached to their positions to draw attention
to the social and political problems important to themselves and the other
people in their states. Now that a few of them have begun to get mainstream
America’s attention, it should be time for state poet laureates to define
their positions, and to figure out how they can use them to make poetry truly,
actually matter.
Tanya Angell Allen
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