Prairie Schooner, Still One of the Brightest Lights Shining

Call this an endorsement for another member of the publishing community.  I’ve been reading Prairie Schooner for about thirty-five (of their nearly 90) years of publication, and I still open each new issue eagerly, always ready to be instructed and delighted.  One of the facets of the journal that has long engaged me is its non-partisan approach: there’s no other journal, so far as I can tell, more open to new writers, and none that publishes as wide a variety of modes, forms, tones, themes and voices as this quarterly journal from Nebraska, long edited by Hilda Raz with the help of a variety of student and professional staff members.  Origins, politics, tribes and agendas of writers, especially poets, played a very small role in Hilda’s editorial approach.  The one “extra-literary” item on her menu was that she seemed determined to feature voices from unheard or seldom-heard minorities of all sorts.  Under her guidance, Prairie Schooner became a rainbow coalition that operated without any quotas or trepidations.  Thinking back on issues both recent and ancient, I recall poems by Linda Pastan, David Kirby, Donald Platt, Clairr O’Connor, Hadara Bar-Nadav, Lucinda Roy and Lynne Potts, as well as stories by Melissa Yancy, Alice Hoffman, Owen King and Katie Wudel’s short short story”Bad Aim.”  More important than any Who’s Who, each issue radiates craft and the electricity we often call inspiration.

Understandably, I was afraid that PS might might become less reader- and writer-friendly once Raz decided to step away from the wheel to concentrate on her own writing.  I’ve seen several long-term editors resign or retire in my years of editing, but only a few like Stan Lindberg of Georgia Review and George Core of Sewanee Review stamped the journals they edited (and Core still edits) as strongly and gracefully as Hilda did.  Needless fretting, however.  When Kwame Dawes was named to the editorial post, I just grinned and said to myself, “It will be different but still exciting.”  Dawes’ work has appeared in Shenandoah, and his poems and essays have long been widely admired.  Now he has been running PS long enough that I can feel confident my premonition has been fulfilled.

The PS website prairieschooner.unl.edu offers plenty of treats, including Oxcart, currently a rumination by Dawes on why some manuscripts are declined by editors.  There’s also a wonderful audio section, Air Schooner, currently featuring an interview with two writers about literary experimentalism.

The next issue of Prairie Schooner, due to hit the stands and the mail next March, will feature poems by Shenandoah contributors David Wagoner and Honoree Fanonne Jeffers and fiction by Roxanne Gay.  “How to Own a Building,” Natalie Vestin’s essay which won the first PS creative nonfiction contest, will also appear.  Here’s a passage from it to whet our appetites:

“. . . The problem with ownership is destruction, the constant play of the second law of thermodynamics, everything heading toward entropy.  Destruction forces transformation.  It craves something new and replaced.  Something that tastes like memory and habit rearranged.  Memorial, museum, open space, preserved, conserved, something was here, owned by a heart.  In some instances, a building becomes an event.  Flames on the wall, remnants of what has past, pieces and stories hustled inside.  people encouraged inside the event-building to live a story told by a journey from room to room.  To be someone or something else, to have memory and emotion implanted in a bare space. . . .”

I can think of no better way to end this than to saying: Live long and prosper.


recent-meR. T. Smith has edited Shenandoah since 1995 and serves as Writer-in-Residence at Washington & Lee. His forthcoming books are Doves in Flight: 13 Fictions and Summoning Shades: New Poems, both due in 2017.

 

Memoir Writing Myths and Realities

Last year, I was enrolled in a Memoirs Creative Writing Class. I was so hesitant to sign up for it for a few reasons. One, I was twenty-one years old. What could I have possibly done at that point in my life that would be interesting enough to write a memoir about it? Well, when I was seven, I made the life decision to switch from Blueberry Pop-tarts to S’more Poptarts. Blueberry was jealous, but S’more and I just made a better fit. Secondly, because it just seemed self-indulgent. It’s a lot of talking about yourself, a lot of self-importance. Thirdly because What If I died in a freak accident after the class was over and my various family members and friends that I mentioned in my stories found my memoirs and cursed my memory for describing them as “persnickety” or “bold” or “fat.” But I signed up anyway and I’m so very glad I did.

The class was set up in such a way that each week a first draft of final draft was due. Each member of the class was sent a copy of each story, to make comments for discussions for the two days of workshop a week followed by a final draft due the following week. We were given prompts, guidelines to follow about what the theme of the story should be, but it gave the class enough freedom to approach the theme any way we wanted to. By the end of the class we had written six stories with six central themes: Creation, Jobs, Ancestors, Truth and Taboo, Education, and finally your experience with memoir writing. These themes complemented each other nicely to provide each student with a well-rounded out portfolio.

This class was enlightening in many ways. It goes without saying, but I’m going to anyway, that I got to know myself better. Not really in terms of “spiritual, getting to know my inner-child” way, but I got to know myself better as a writer. What I do well, what needs work. It is as though even though you know the full truth of the situation about which you are writing, you’re allowed more versatility when you’re writing. You know the characters better, you know how they reacted, but it’s fun to think, “Ok, but what if this happened this way instead? Does that make the situation funnier or scarier or more real?” You can shape things to tell the story you really want to convey.

That’s the other thing I learned about Memoirs: it is the ultimate cure to writer’s block. Seriously. If you can’t think of anything to write, go back to your childhood. There are hundreds of stories and characters to draw upon from there, readily accessible in your mind; you don’t have to start from scratch. And writers always put a bit of themselves in their work anyway, so no harm in stealing from your own memory.
But probably the most valuable thing I learned in the class is that anyone can write a memoir. People say they are not creative, or they can’t write about themselves but that’s just not true. Everyone has interesting stories to share about themselves, or even an interesting perspective about something that’s happened to them. We read excerpts from a Memoir that, as I recall it was literally about salmon fishing. I don’t like salmon or fishing but even the most mundane things can be enjoyable if there’s a steady voice behind it.

I’d advise anyone to try it out. At the very least it is therapeutic. If not just a little self-indulgent.


Halloween Deadline: ELIXIR Press Poetry Contest

The deadline for the Elixir Press Poetry Awards is October 31, exactly one week away.  Manuscripts must be submitted via the post office and via the Elixir Press Submission Manager.  This competition is open to all poets, regardless of publication history.  Two prizes will be given, the Judge’s Prize with an award of $2500 and the Editor’s Prize with an award of $1500.  Both prizes include publication by Elixir Press.  The entry fee is $30.  Please visit the Elixir website for complete guidelines.
www.elixirpress.com


recent-meR. T. Smith has edited Shenandoah since 1995 and serves as Writer-in-Residence at Washington & Lee. His forthcoming books are Doves in Flight: 13 Fictions and Summoning Shades: New Poems, both due in 2017.

 

To Review or Not to Review?

Are you one of those people who scrupulously read reviews before embarking on a new book? Do you scan the New York Times book review section and earmark the New Yorker for their favorite recent literary discoveries? If so, I have a lot of respect for you. I’m not one of those people; in fact, I’d never really thought about book reviews until we talked about it the other day in class.  Sure, I’d scanned them with a vaguely interested eye in magazines and newspapers, but I never considered choosing my next book or altering my opinion of one I’d already read based on a reviewer’s words. Reviews seemed like longer versions of the book reports that haunted my middle school years and since I didn’t give them more than a cursory glance, book reviews did not really have a chance to redeem themselves in my mind.

I recently read the The Liar’s Club by Mary Karr. In this unique, intricately described portrayal of her tumultuous childhood, Karr brings her atypical parents into a vivid light with anecdotes and recollections. With curiosity, after hearing about the significance of book reviews, I decided to do some research after the fact and see what the critics had to say about this memoir. I’d already formed my opinion and I loved it. At random, I chose Jonathan Yardley’s review from The Washington Post archives. * The review is ten years old, but such is the nature of books to stay the same over time, so it remains applicable. After reading his thoughts on the memoir, I had a few of my own. Yardley comments on the nature of Karr’s parent’s marriage: “[It] had its moments of tenderness and happiness, but much of the time it was fractious, noisy and self-destructive.” He also addresses Karr’s relationship with her sister, which was a “Far from tranquil alliance.” I agree with these insights, as Karr’s youth was clearly not ideal or normal. However, it is his final conclusions regarding Karr’s motive for writing that I can’t exactly align with. Yardley observes that The Liar’s Club, similarly to other memoirs, is “A tribute to and lament for a world its author no longer occupies…she most surely regrets what she left behind, and she makes us regret it too. The Liars’ Club is a beauty.” Yes, it is a profound and inspiring memoir, but I do not think that Karr intends for the reader to mourn for the life she has left behind. I was not left with a longing for Texas in the 1960’s, and I don’t believe that Karr has this feeling either. Instead, she has an enlightened perspective that, without the cathartic act of writing this book, could have remained allusive. Ultimately, it is apparent that the interpretations and observations of reviewers can alter a reader’s opinion towards the book. This can be seen as both a supplementary, or potentially unhelpful, element to the process of choosing a book and then reflecting on it afterwards.

*http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/11/09/AR2009110901993.html

 

 


Three New Poetry Books!

Three poets whose work regularly appears in Shenandoah have just released new books: The Gold Thread by Sarah Kennedy (Contributing Editor who often writes reviews for us), Secure the Shadow by Claudia Emerson (Contributing Editor whose poetry often appears on our site) and Thrall by Natasha Trethewey (whose poems often appear on our site).  I highly recommend these three books, all of which are available through Amazon.

The Gold Thread is an extended meditation on the quest for meaning — spiritual or otherwise — in a troubled world.  Moving seamlessly from considerations of our spiritual foremothers, women who sought liberation and selfhood through this communion with God, to lamentation for the current state of things, these fierce, elegant poems serve as a kind of cautionary tale.  They remind us of the possibility of another fall brought on by the myopia of empire, by war and sins of injustice.  Soberly and powerfully, Kennedy shows us that the golden thread is also what ties us to our past and, inevitably, to our future. — Natasha Trethewey

“Natasha Trethewey’s Thrall is simply the finest work of her already distinguished career.  This remarkable collection carries the reader from troubling ekphrastic reflections upon colonial depictions of mixed race. . . to a stunningly personal album of self-portraits of the poet with her father.  Rarely has any poetic intersection of cultural and personal histories felt more inevitable, more painful, or profound.”
— David St. John

“With superb artistry and a cool, but never cold, eye, Emerson sublimates her grief into elegant elegy, unsentimental and unforgettable — as when, driving past a house fire’s ‘bright-rising/enravishment,’ she does ‘not stop to watch someone else’s/ tragedy burn past this brief, nearly/ beautiful suspension that changes nothing.'” — Andrew Hudgins on Secure the Shadow

 

When Auden said that poetry makes nothing happen,
he was dead wrong!


recent-meR. T. Smith has edited Shenandoah since 1995 and serves as Writer-in-Residence at Washington & Lee. His forthcoming books are Doves in Flight: 13 Fictions and Summoning Shades: New Poems, both due in 2017.

 

If You Want To Know the Truth

I recently reread J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye and realized what has made this novel such a cherished addition to classic American literature. The story is fueled not by plot – which runs its course in about a week’s time – but rather the cynical and humorously honest perspective of Holden Caulfield.

Holden as a narrator is endearingly likeable, and moreover he finds friendship with the reader.  A recurrent expression in his narration, “if you want to know the truth,” implies that the reader has won the merit of Holden’s honest, albeit exaggerated, perspective. And as we become further acquainted with Holden, we realize that sort of human approval does not come often. This phrase invites us to understand him in a way he does not yet understand himself. He admits that certain ordinary social customs have a tendency to “depress the hell outta” him. But he is not aware that this mistrust in traditional upbringing becomes an increasingly heroic quality both alienating and distinguishing him from his peers.

Because of my admiration of Salinger’s ability to carefully craft such a disenchanted yet highly intuitive character, I was surprised to read that the story’s first readers did not agree. In fact, The New Yorker turned down an excerpt of the novel due to the precocious attitude of the narrator, which they believe distracting to the story. Another critic, Eugene Reynel could not discern whether or not Holden was actually insane. In his article, “Holden at Fifty,” Louis Menand suggests, “that it might end up on the syllabus for ninth-grade English was probably close to the last thing Salinger had in mind when he wrote the book.”  Why then, has The Catcher in the Rye become such a staple in the canon of coming-of-age literature?

I find that despite his colloquial tone and boyish mannerisms, Holden is not so much a voice of teenagers but of a certain restlessness within society. To draw upon Menand’s observation, this identity would be the farthest thing from Holden’s perception of himself. In fact, it is a description he would invariable deem “phony.” However, Salinger deliberately does not instill these beliefs within a radical outcast, but instead a quirky mischief-maker with whom the reader cannot help but sympathize. As Menand writes, teenagers notoriously love to identify themselves with Holden. He suffers from an inability to “apply himself” in academics and social expectations.  And yet he is strongly dedicated to his personal relationships: his instinctive respect towards girls, his protection of his sister Phoebe, and his affinity for his audience.

And therein lies the true power of Holden Caulfied – he is an unassuming hero and the perfect disguise for Salinger’s humorous social criticisms. We’re invited, and never forced, to adopt Holden’s view of the world.  He is conflicted and compassionate, and if you want to know the truth, I think he’s one of the most complex rebels in English literature.

Louis Menand’s article, “Holden at Fifty:” http://www.newyorker.com/archive/2001/10/01/011001fa_FACT3


Octo-burrr! is here

Here in Lexington, fall has set in. We have the cool, crisp mornings that are perfect for curling up with a mug of coco and a good book. October always reminds me of fairy tales, fables and folklore because of Halloween. The spooky enchantment of a night characterized by the carved pumpkins, children in their costumes, and the onslaught of delicious candy and baked goods epitomize, for me, the allure of fairy tales. Last night I dug up my copy of Aesop’s Fables that I discovered at Blackwell’s bookstore in Oxford, England while I was studying abroad. At the time, I was taking a children’s literature and fantasy class and had never read through Aesop’s Fables in its entirety (my family is more of the Brothers Grimm type). Professor Hannah proclaimed that Aesop’s Fables was one of her favorite children’s books and as I sunk down in my seat avoiding eye contact I knew I needed to discover what the hullabaloo was about ASAP.

Aesop’s Fables fulfill every characteristic of the genre. While they meet the Oxford English Dictionary’s definition as “fictitious stories relating to supernatural or extraordinary persons or incidents (…) legendary or mythological stories” many are also apologues; they have a practical or moral lesson. In fact, many common aphorisms like “do unto others as you would have done unto you” or “honesty is the best policy” are found as lessons in Aesop’s Fables. Click here to see a list of fables and their lessons. My favorite of the Aesop’s Fables is ‘The Moon and Her Mother’ because in four sentences is accomplishes two defined characters, a lesson on being too changing, and a beautiful image. It achieves what I find many flash fiction writers struggle with: defining characters, tone, theme etc. in a short amount of time while still investing and engaging the reader in the story.

Fables and folklore are rooted in a written and oral tradition that offers amusing insight into common lessons of life, often through the personification of animals. While in modern times the oral tradition and evolution of stories is not as present as it has been in the past, I would argue that children’s literature is the most active use of oral story telling in modern times. Children love to be read to before they go to bed. They will insist upon their favorite story, turning each page (sometimes a little bit too soon) as their parents read to them before bed. While the format of books is changing in the modern times with the e-book and new, interactive tools to try to engage children in the story, in my mind, there is no substitute for parent-children bedtime stories with a physical book that kids will draw on, drool on and tear.

Modern children’s literature does not often fall back on the flat gimmicks of moral tales that early British children’s literature was so devoted to. Nor do they always overtly rely on the sing-song rhyming that characterized many books in my childhood (thankfully). So what does the modern children’s book have that sets it apart? When I am home in Nevada and reading to my nieces before bedtime, I am captured by the beautiful illustrations and imagination that characterize books from Chronicle Books, Charlesbridge, Penguin Group, HarperCollins etc. Every time I open a newspaper or click on the TV, everyone is focusing on the change that is going on in the publishing world. Shenandoah has gone digital! But just because the form is changing, the love of literature is still out there. Authors and illustrators are amazing and their imaginations are inspiring. In this month of ghouls and ghosts, try and crack open your favorite children’s book like Aesop’s Fables and remember what it’s like to dive into a fantastical world.

This post is by: Cassie McGinty

Editorial Intern, Shenandoah

*Moral lessons facts from: http://www.aesopfables.com/aesopsel.html

*Definition of fable and apologue from: www.oed.com


recent-meR. T. Smith has edited Shenandoah since 1995 and serves as Writer-in-Residence at Washington & Lee. His forthcoming books are Doves in Flight: 13 Fictions and Summoning Shades: New Poems, both due in 2017.

 

Stereotypes Created “In Cold Blood”

People love stereotypes.  They love to categorize things into neat boxes tied up with bows.  They like to assume that every jock is a meathead, every southern accent is a straw-chewing hick, and every sorority girl is a brainless blonde.  But like it or not, life never neatly fits into a box.  Stereotypes always fall short.  Truman Capote uses his nonfiction novel, In Cold Blood, to show the strengths and weaknesses of stereotypes.  He conjures images as the Clutters as the All-American family and of the antagonists, Dick and Perry, as the classic Wild West fugitives.

But Capote exposes Dick and Perry as more than classic villains.  Within their relationship, a marital stereotype exists with Dick as the masculine, husband figure and Perry as the dreamy, wife figure.  Dick sports the manly name of, “Dick Hickock,” and calls Perry’s long-winded dreams of finding Spanish gold stupid.  He also creates a habit of calling Perry names such as, “honey,” or “baby,” or “darling.”  One can only imagine Dick’s demurring, manipulative tone.  In accordance with a female demeanor, Perry sings, draws, and plays guitar.  His physical stature is small and compact, while Dick is tall and manly.  As Dick and Perry flee from Holcomb, Kansas, their uneven relationship hits a note of tension that reappears later.

Capote follows Detective Dewey as he interrogates all possible suspects and friends of the Clutter family.  Dewey stumbles upon a break in the case that leads him to arrest Dick and Perry.  As Dick and Perry reveal the events of the blood-filled night, the reader learns that earlier stereotypes of Dick and Perry’s relationship do not hold true.  Readers originally believe, based upon earlier clues, that Dick killed all four members of the Clutter family while Perry hustled to make sure the family was comfortable while they died.  The drawn covers over the figures of two victims leads the reader to think that this was Perry’s idea of showing remorse for Dick’s bloody work.  But the stereotypes established by Capote reveals loop holes in Dick and Perry’s relationship that lend to the twist in the ending.  Readers learn that Perry committed all four murders.  Perry pulled the trigger.  Perry rebelled against his womanly stereotype and revealed his true brutal nature.  It seems as if Capote uses this moment to remind readers, never judge a book by its cover.


Dr. Dog – “Be the Void”

A band that has been garnering more and more airplay over the past several months on my iPod is Dr. Dog. Tracing their roots to the middle school musical partnership of Toby Leaman (lead guitar) and Scott McMicken (bass guitar) outside of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Dr. Dog released their first studio album in 2001 with the added line-up of Frank McElroy on rhythm guitar, Zach Miller on keyboard, and Eric Slick on drums. Over the years, as the group transitioned from eight-track recordings into more sophisticated studios, their recordings have become increasingly refined, earning them a much-deserved nationwide fan base.

On October 2, 2012, Dr. Dog released their most recent EP, titled Wild Race. Because the release coincided with the ever-swelling amount of submissions to the Shenandoah, I have found myself listening to the EP before, after, and sometimes while I read through these hundreds of pieces. One track, “Be the Void,” has stuck out in my mind as one that is particularly apt with respect to the characteristics I take into consideration when reading these submissions. The lyrics to the chorus are as follows: “Become the one, become the all/ Become the big, become the small/ Become complete, become destroyed/ Become nothing, be the void.”

While it might be a stretch, I believe this series of antitheses rings true when applied to the sort of piece one might hope to find in a literary journal such as the Shenandoah. In essence, these lyrics urge the listener to embrace everything, to strive to encompass all possible paths in life. It is my belief that a work of literature should aspire to the same goal. As a reader, I hope to find within a work something that I can identify with – I don’t necessarily expect to share the exact same experiences of the characters within a story, but more so I expect to find some nugget of truth about the human experience to which anyone could relate. By “becoming the void,” an author could occupy that vast commonality that links us all.

This seems to be a thread that Dr. Dog has continually pursued within their work. Describing life on the road, Leaman said, “It’s hard when you spend half your time away from your friends and family to feel like you’re as connected as you could be to the people around you.” This is certainly a sentiment shared by more than those within the music industry; it is often difficult for all of us to feel connected to everyone around us. Music, literature, and the arts in general, then, become a means to express our universal emotions, universal experiences, and perhaps our simple universality in general as human beings. Hopefully, readers will feel something in common with this rant about commonality.

If you care to listen to Wild Race, the full EP can be found here:

dr-dog-wild-race

*Quote from Leaman found on the “About” section of Dr. Dog’s website.


W&L’s Tie-Died Toms

The cast of Wolfe’s Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test

For a campus of white columns and blue blazers, Washington & Lee’s literary C.V. reads like a countercultural manifesto. Our own walking paradox, Tom Wolfe, made a name for himself writing about LSD then sunk his profits into a wardrobe full of genteel, cream-colored suits.  But in the shadow of Wolfe’s New Journalism, another hippie-driven author passed through W&L: Tom Robbins.  Known for his works Another Roadside Attraction and Even Cowgirls Get the Blues, Robbins pushes Wolfe’s summer-of-love subject matter through a narrative kaleidoscope until manic novels emerge on the other end.  But wait, one asks, why haven’t I heard about this member of the W&L community before? Are Robbins’ books in the alumni publications section in the Bookstore? In the library?

Unlike Tom Wolfe, a star athlete and 1951 graduate, Robbins attended Washington & Lee from 1951-1952 before leaving at the end of his sophomore year. Robbins’ early departure from Washington & Lee, then a distinctly Southern college, would seem to mark a personal break from convention, a rejection of the traditions in which he was raised.  The son of a second-generation Baptist minister from North Carolina, Robbins weaves the tobacco-plains of his native state throughout his work, particularly his debut novel, Another Roadside Attraction.

Literature’s favorite (only?) hippie hotdog vendors
    Plucky Purcell, a member of the tie-died ARSA cast, embodies the Washington & Lee literary paradox to such an extent one can’t help but wonder if this character reflects Robbins’ own experiences. A mischievous gentleman who graduated from Duke, Purcell infiltrates the Vatican and accidentally discovers the corpse of Christ, shedding light on a centuries-old conspiracy;  of course, Plucky plans on exposing the Catholic hoax with said remains in favor of a 1969 society based around free-love and psychedelics.

Thus, Robbins injects some of the South’s primary literary concerns into his anti-establishment, anti-religious work.  Echoing Faulkner and O’Connor’s struggles with the darker side of Western Christianity, Robbins praises Jesus of Nazareth’s fundamental message, while blasting the righteous oppression of the High Church.

So, as one of the South’s postmodern literary figures, why is our campus almost empty of references to the (halfway) alumnus? Robbins’ books are, in fact, available in the “Alumni Publication” section of our library, but, unlike our other literary Tom, there is no Robbins Lecture Series, nor any inspiring Tom Robbins posters strewn about campus. Is this a Vatican-esque conspiracy by the W&L administration to keep a drop-out off the radar? Doubtful, but who would really believe such a place produced two of the psychedelic era’s loudest voices?

*Biographical information gathered from famousauthors.org

*Copy of Another Roadside Attraction provided courtesy of Leyburn Library, and was the Ballantine Books (New York) edition, published in 1971.