I grabbed a cookie outside of Kauke 237 and found a seat two chairs over from the ex-Poet Laureate of The United States of America. I leaned to my left trying to inconspicuously eavesdrop on what she was saying to Professor Tom Prendergast. ìÖ Iíve learned to appreciate the cold. I lived in Arizona and I started feel a bit depressed. I got tired of the same old Ö sunshine.”
I supposed he asked her how she was dealing with the windy weather that has accosted us mercilessly this week. Sheíd only been answering a fairly mundane and normally uninspiring question, and yet I felt as if I could write several poems just with themes derived from her last three words. ìSame old sunshineÖ”
Obviously, Rita Dove was nothing if not an inspiring person to behold. I was lucky enough to be among the few students invited to meet her informally a few hours before her reading in Gault Recital Hall. We formed a circle with our desks, many of us ready with our notebooks and pens. She was comfortable ó she looked as if she hadnít been nervous in a few decades. Why would a few college students frighten her? This woman, born in Akron, Ohio, has been grabbing at the spotlight of the literary world since she published her first book of poetry, ìThe Yellow House on the Corner,” in 1980. Two of her most popular accomplishments are quite impressive ó she was the second African American poet to be awarded the Pulitzer Prize (after the great Gwendolyn Brooks) and in 1993 she became the youngest Poet Laureate of the United States and Consultant in Poetry at the Library of Congress.
All that being said, I didnít feel that the woman sitting before me thought too much of herself to have an honest conversation with a few students. I appreciated the atmosphere she created around herself ó it was obvious that she was intelligent, but no one was made to feel like any question was stupid, or not worth her time.
We asked our questions and she told us about the color-coded folders that house her unfinished poems, and the notebooks of various sizes that she carries everywhere, (which one she carries depends on the size of her purse that particular day). She was honest. She spoke confidently but her answers did not sound prepared, so I never felt like I was watching a performance as I wrote down every other word. I was simply having a conversation and recording it because the person with whom I was speaking was an excellent conversationalist. She spoke about her art and occupation (and how rare to have them be one and the same) with an air of superiority that commanded anyone within earshot to listen closely.
Dove believes that poetry can be taught. ìItís taught in the same way that music or acting is taught. People donít think so because Ö well, all of us talk every day.” She went on to prove her point to us by teaching us in those few moments, several advisory theories that had been helpful in her own career. ìSometimes inspiration comes during the revision process” she said, encouraging poets to push past their writing block and insisting that waiting for inspiration is not always the way to go. ìGet into a group of like-minded people ó stop being afraid of failing.” She told us that her husband commented while rifling through one of her books of poetry, ìÖ do you realize that every single one of these poems has been rejected at least once?” Apparently publishing companies often make the mistake of turning away great work ó Dove encouraged us not to be daunted by failure. She said, ìThe urge to publish should be the urge to communicate.” She says that each writer has to decide for his or herself whether or not they can withstand rejection, and handle the ìfirestorm” that comes with publishing controversial literature. If you canít handle it, you shouldnít publish it. ìWe want you around to fight another day,” she explained.
Her reading in Gault Recital Hall at the Schiede Music Center later that night was astounding. She read from her latest book entitled ìSonata Mulattica.” The book of poetry is based on the almost completely forgotten life of a remarkably talented biracial violin prodigy, who contributed to the development of classical music, if in no other way, by inspiring Ludwig Van Beethoven. She captured her audienceís interest and quickly caused us to care deeply for a young boy-turned-man that most of the world has never heard of. Her messages are both clear and complex- somewhat obvious, but stated in such a metaphorically designed manner, and with such imagery that they do not feel as straight-forward or recycled as they may have if written by someone else.
I definitely commend and thank the English and Africana Studies departments for working so hard to bring Dove to our campus. I think I speak for everyone who had the luxury of meeting her informally when I say it would be an honor to have her come again, to teach even one class. She is the type of presence that the young writer yearns to be in the midst of.
Brandelle Knights is a regular contributor to the Voice. She can be reached for comment at BKnights12@wooster.edu.