When I watched this video last week, it was the prettiest thing that I had seen the entire day. That’s all.
In other news, I just finished reading Poets in Their Youth by Eileen Simpson.
Eileen Simpson is John Berryman’s ex-wife. The book recounts her time with John and all of his literary friends. I kind of think it is a must read for all poets. Not only is it full of rich literary gossip, but it also reminds one that all these poets were just uncertain kids at one point. I mean, actually, most of them remained unsure of themselves and their writing, either ending up in maddness or suicide as the book sadly recounts, but it does shatter the illusion that these poets were “masters.” I know this is true in most cases, but it is was refreshing to read something so metered and objective about the oh-so-volitile statis of poets. We are a manic bunch. But man, when there is something inside of us that needs to leap out, we know it, and we go through great lengths just to do so. Reading this book has prompted me (as you would expect) to read The Dream Songs in their entirity. Something which I have never done before. It’s kind of a big undertaking, but now that I have the personality of John Berryman lodged in my brain I am having an easier time with it, if only because I am sympathetic to the accumulated self-torture and doubt he experienced before (and while) they were written.