Acclaimed poet Linda Pastan refers to one of her poems in "An Early Afterlife" to explain why she writes:
. . . When the word calls, you follow
even in the kitchen proofing yeast for bread. . . .
For whether or not you want it,
whether or not you're ready, you must
grasp it now in your good right hand
as if it alone can save you.
As Ms. Pastan sees it, the word has called her many times. "An Early Afterlife," just published, is her ninth book of poetry. It will be showcased at 8 tonight at a Folger Shakespeare Library reading with Robert Creeley, another highly regarded poet. The reading is part of an ongoing series in which important contemporary poets present their work.
Living in Potomac, Ms. Pastan was Maryland's poet laureate from 1991-94. Her poems, which explore themes ranging from family relationships to the process of writing, are frequently anthologized and included in American literature texts.
Ms. Pastan was born in New York City, into a Jewish family, but she says she didn't feel close to her Jewish heritage until recently. An only, lonely child, Ms. Pastan found comfort in books.
"Little Women" was one of them, she says, adding that she likes Katharine Hepburn as Jo in the movie, rather than Winona Ryder, "who is too pretty." She mentions Thomas Hardy, saying he could write great poetry and great novels. One of her poems, "The English Novel," comments on his writing: "though sex was hardly mentioned / it was clearly a scent in the air like the sachets / in the cupboards."
Ms. Pastan began writing poetry at 10 or 11 "to have a dialogue with books." Later, she majored in English at Radcliffe, graduating in 1954. She won the Mademoiselle Poetry Award in 1955 for a poem called "Reminder," which she says isn't good enough to be included in her collections. Interestingly, 1955 was the year Sylvia Plath received an honorable mention for the same award.
Sylvia Plath, born in 1932 like Ms. Pastan, would go on to scale great literary heights, but suicide would cut her life and career short. Ms. Pastan, though, is a survivor. Even her voice has a quiet strength. Listening to her, one is reminded of words from William Faulkner's Nobel Prize acceptance speech: "I believe man will not merely endure; he will prevail."
"Dirge," one of Ms. Pastan's poems, addresses the issue of suicide among poets: "Only poets safe at their desks hear death years away, / and full of the intensity of words, / rush to meet it." Ms. Pastan, full of the intensity of her words, chooses to write.
In the mid-'50s, she temporarily stopped writing to put her energy into domestic life. Married in 1953 to Ira Pastan, a scientist, she did not think it possible to be a writer, wife and mother simultaneously. So she raised a family of two sons, not emerging from her silence in poetry until the birth of Rachel, her youngest child, in 1965.
As she looks back on those years, she seems angry. "There has to be equal opportunity," she says, adding, "we haven't solved the child care issue, though." Ms. Pastan says that children shouldn't be sent to day-care centers. She says they need a father or mother to care for them.
The intense caring she feels for her own children is evident. One of her poems, "To A Daughter," reads: "I lean over your sleep, / Narcissus over / his clear pool, / ready to fall in -- to drown for you, / if necessary."
After 1965, Ms. Pastan was published in numerous national journals, including the Atlantic Monthly, the New Yorker and Poetry. Her first book won the Swallow Press New Poetry Series Award in 1971. She received a National Endowment for the Arts grant a year later. By the time her second collection appeared, she had gone to the Bread Loaf Writers' Conference in Vermont, where she later served as lecturer. She would go on to win several prestigious awards.
Ms. Pastan's poetry examines daily life, much of it musing on the Maryland countryside. A winter poem in "An Early Afterlife" puts it this way: "I have had nothing / but beauty to shield me / from my neighbors / with their rough machines, . . . and now between my nakedness / and the world / there will only be thin / rags of snow."
Critics compare Ms. Pastan to Emily Dickinson. Both are visual poets. Both are concise. Both seem accessible, yet have hidden meanings. Both polish their metaphors until they gleam.
Ms. Pastan is flattered by the comparison. Her poem about the great recluse, "Emily Dickinson," ends this way: "legend won't explain the sheer sanity of vision, the serious mischief / of language, the economy of pain." The words are apt, suggesting not only the genius of Emily Dickinson, but the power behind Ms. Pastan's own poems.
POETIC PASTAN
Who: Linda Pastan, reading with Robert Creeley
What: Folger Poetry Series
Where: Folger Shakespeare Library, 201 E. Capitol St. SE, Washington
When: 8 tonight
Admission: $6
Call: (202) 544-7077