tisdag 4 april 2017

C.D. - a mountain child from Arkansas

  Jag har längtat efter att få delge er fler dikter av den oefterhärmliga poeten C.D. Wright. Hennes författarskap är en kombination av Johnny Cash's socialrealism och Pablo Picassos experimentlusta, och hon var enormt produktiv samtidigt som hon undervisade vid Brown University, Providence Rhode Island. 


  Carolyn Doris Wright föddes 1949 i en stuga i Ozarkbergen, Arkansas. Hennes far var domare och hennes mor var kriminalreporter. Hon har berättat i intervjuer att hennes första ord var "obscen". Inte så konstigt mot den bakgrunden.

  Min avsikt var att hämta exempel från de båda urvalssamlingarna "Like something flying backwards" och "Shallcross". Men det fanns så intressanta texter i den förstnämnda att jag höll mig till den.

Jag släpper lös hennes vassa penna . . .

Self portrait on a rocky mount, by C.D. Wright (1949-2016)
(From Like Something Flying Backwards: New and Selected Poems. [Original from String Light (1991)]. Tarset, Northumberland : Bloodaxe Books, ©2007.)

         I am the goat. Caroline by name. Née 6 January. Domesticated
since the sixth century before Jesus, a goat himself.

         We have served as a source of meat, leather, milk and hair.
Our flesh is not widely loved. Yet our younger, under parts
make fine gloves.

         Out of our hair - pretty sweaters, wigs for magistrates. Our milk is good for cheese.

         We share these gifts with Richard Milhous Nixon, who gained
national prominence for his investigation of Mr. Hiss.

         We're no sloth, full-time workers at the minimum wage.
We had an annual income last year of $6,968, a little less than
your average subway musician.

         Our horoscope assures - we will be a great success socially
and in som artistic calling.

         We are surefooted, esp. on hills. We live on next-to-nothing.
This week's victuals: ironing board covers and swollen paperbacks.
Our small hills of filings fall under the heading of useful by-products.
This we call Industrial Poetry. Both of us being Bearded, Mystic, Horned.


  När hon 2013 blev invald till The Academy of American Poets hyllade poetkollegan Anne Waldman henne med följande hedervärda rader:
"“Brilliantly astute, generous, witty, panoramic, celebratory, C. D. Wright is one of our most fearless writers, possessed with an urgency that pierces through the darkness of our time. She carries a particular Southern demographic that bears witness, that investigates history, humanity, and consciousness in powerfully innovative, often breathtaking language. Hers is a necessary poetics, on fire with life and passion for what matters.” Källa: Academy of American Poets


Fotomodell: Nina Nesbitt


Girl friend, by C.D. Wright
(From Like Something Flying Backwards: New and Selected Poems. [Original from Tremble (1996)]. Tarset, Northumberland : Bloodaxe Books, ©2007.)

When I first saw her a few summers ago I felt.
                                Her photogenic spit.
I was climbing a coruscating staircase.
In my flammable skin. To be so full of.
Everything. At her age. It is very difficult.
A singer manqué. Among a small host of poets:
than the men. Quaffing schnapps. No lens
could describe her.
                                Shoulders. Hands.
Such longings: Errant. Verdant.
To have a good time. And dream. In one's own
country. The lack. Of. Everything.
The confusion. It s very difficult. One needs.
One's own set of golden books. What if.
A ladder were. Miraculous. Extended. Across
a nursery for new stars.
                                And then.

                                                                  for Nina


  Hon var tidigare medredaktör - tillsammans med sin make, poeten Forrest Gander - av Lost Roads Publishers.

  Bland hennes utmärkelser kan nämnas: MacArthur Fellowship, Lannan Literary Award, Robert Creeley Award, och medlemskap i The American Academy of Arts and Sciences.
  Hon hade en unik röst vilket kritikern Joel Brouwer konstaterade på sitt sätt: "Wright belongs to a school of exactly one".

  Jag vill också bifoga två av C.D. Wrights citat:
"I’m country but sophisticated. I’m particular and concrete, but I’m probing another plane. ... There are many times when I want to hammer the head. Other times I want to sleep on the hammer."

“Poetry is a necessity of life, and 
It is a function of poetry to locate those zones inside us that would be free, and declare them so.” Källa: Poetry Foundation

  C.D. Wright dog av en blodpropp som uppstod efter en långflygning på hög höjd. Mycket tragiskt.

  Min favoritdikt ur den nästan trehundra sidor långa urvalsantologin får avsluta hyllningen till Carolyn Doris Wright. För övrigt så återkommer hennes alster i svensk tolkning i december, då under rubriken "Poeten och översättaren".

C.D. Wright

Morning star, by C.D. Wright
(From Like Something Flying Backwards: New and Selected Poems. [Original from Tremble (1996)]. Tarset, Northumberland : Bloodaxe Books, ©2007.)

This isn't the end. It simply
cannot be the end. It is a road.
You go ahead coatless, light-
soaked, more rutilant than
the road. The soles of your shoes
sparkle. You walk softly
as you move further inside
your subject. It is a living
season. The trees are anxious
to be included. The car with fins
beams through countless
oncoming points of rage and need.
The sloughed off cells
under our bed form little hills
of dead matter. If the most sidereal
drink is pain, the most soothing
clock is music. A poetry
of shine could come of this.
It will be predominantly
green. You will be allowed
to color in as much as you want
for green is good
for the teeth and the eyes.

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