For at least thirty minutes tonight I practiced reciting the Wendell Berry poem in front of the mirror before heading down to Poetry at the Pub to perform it. For months I had worked on memorizing it. I fell in love with it one night in a Poetic Outlaws email.
Tonight I felt as prepared as I would ever be as I jotted my name down on the poets’ lineup, but what I was not expecting was for the host of the night (and my dear friend) to invite me up to read first, before anyone else had even said a word. I didn’t do terribly, but oh how much better I’d done in front of the mirror an hour before.
This poem has been rattling around in my brain for a while, now a useful tool to help me fall asleep and a talking point at dinner parties. This poem might offend some; it was written in the 1970s. Wendell Berry would probably describe me as a woman who goes cheap for power, but maybe he’s right.
My leg would not stop shaking as I read, although you can’t tell in the video. Please forgive the weird black and white filters, I got tired of trying to figure out how to make it consistent. The words are what matter most anyway.
I love this poem because it is both about believing in the future and also the futility of such. I love the poem because it does not glorify wealth, success, ladder-climbing etc.
”Take all you have and be poor” Wendell Berry demands. I don’t know why I approve of someone celebrating poverty, especially as I type this with my new job, living in my new tower in the middle of town, overlooking the harbor. I recognize the extreme hypocrisy here, but part of me sees myself going in a direction and hates who I am becoming. If I am aware of my hypocrisy, does that make it any better? Part of me hates how percentages of Australians, Americans and citizens in countries like it celebrate the pursuit of wealth above all else. We are already so rich compared to the rest of the world and what has that done to its citizens? Imagine believing that our futures are actually important.
I read somewhere that as long as the majority can afford to regularly go out for dinner, society will remain complacent, comfortable and unmoved.
(Disclaimer, I don’t think Berry is truly celebrating poverty, but I think he is encouraging people to consider what is actually enough.)
What is undoubtedly important, as Berry points out, are the leaves that rot into the mould, and the two inches of humus that build under the trees every thousand years. I love when he writes “Love someone who does not deserve it.” Can you imagine something more ridiculous, to love someone terrible, evil, even. But rare, beautiful stories exist of victims of horrible experiences who authentically forgive their perpetrators. Are you capable of such grace? Can you fathom such forgiveness? The fact that some people do this brings me hope.
”Love someone who does not deserve it.”
But the last lines, about losing your mind, almost as a radical act, is, mwuah, chef’s kiss. Wendell Berry is a farmer, a poet, a simple man who knows the earth, the land and human nature more than most. In this old poem he shows us what so many currently struggle with. All actions are futile, the world is ending and we (especially our careers, our pursuits for fame and fortune) hardly matter, so go and worship the forest, know your neighbors and protect the mothers. Lie down in the shade with your love and strategically, systematically lose our minds rather than submitting to the generals and the politicos.
I wish I had performed it better. There will be more chances, if I’m lucky. For now I’d like to encourage you all to be like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary, some in the wrong direction.
Thank you for reading. Please tell me if you like the poem. Another day is for examining his specific lines about pleasing women who are satisfied to bear children. I have big opinions on this.
Things I’m thinking about this week.
On Thursday night I’ll be chatting on this panel on technology, AI and social media as a part of the New Annual Festival. I’m stoked to be involved.
Discussed with my friend Mandy this great quote from James Baldwin, also relevant to the WB poem.
“If the concept of God has any validity or any use, it can only be to make us larger, freer, and more loving. If God cannot do this, then it is time we got rid of Him.”
This story from The Cut of a Morman family of youtubers going off the deep end really disturbed me.
This NYT article on Florida-based artist who makes still-life paintings of junk food is glorious.
“I always try to eat something before I paint it, just to have that connection with it.”
Following closely the devastation from Hurricane Helene in the Southeast, I made a small donation to the resilient students and faculty at Warren Wilson College. It’s awful to watch from so far away. My heart breaks for the mountains of Western North Carolina.
I would deeply love to know your opinions on his specific lines about pleasing women who are satisfied to bear children. xx