Deadlines are marvelous, magical things, even when we're late or miss them entirely. It's wonderful to have something asked of you... but attach it to a specific date and the whole feeling's electrified. You will get SOMETHING done one way or another, even if it's not the thing you originally intended.
I believe it was at our very first poetry group meeting in McC's old apartment (sniff!) that I mentioned wanting to read Rita Dove's Thomas and Beulah. I'm glad I waited. This book, like The Pillow Book is of a stripe best read apart from the semester frenzy. It requires attention yes, but also patience, as you sort through the timeline in the back and try to fit all the pieces together.
The book is structured around the lives of Dove's maternal grandparents, or so the web tells me. It's organized into two sections: Mandolin, which conveys Thomas' experiences; and Canary in Bloom which provides Beulah's. There is a note in the beginning which specifies that the poems should be read in order as they are meant to tell two sides of a story. I've chosen a poem about work from each section to share here.
From Mandolin:
The Zeppelin Factory
The zeppelin factory
needed workers, all right--
but, standing in the cage
of the whale's belly, sparks
flying off the joints and noise thundering,
Thomas wanted to sit
right down and cry.
That spring the third
largest airship was dubbed
the biggest joke
in town, though they all
turned out for the launch.
Wind caught,
"The Akron" floated
out of control,
three men in tow--
one dropped
to safety, one
hung on but the third,
muscles and adrenalin
failing, fell
clawing
six hundred feet.
Thomas at night
in the vacant lot:
Here I am, intact
and faint-hearted.
Thomas hiding
his heart with his hat
at the football game, eyeing
the Goodyear blimp overhead:
Big boy I know
you're in there.
From Canary in Bloom:
Headdress
The hat on the table
in the dining room
is no pet trained
to sit still. Three
pearl-tipped spears and Beulah
maneuvering her shadow
to the floor. The hat
is cold. The hat
wants more.
(The customer will be
generous when satisfied
beyond belief. Spangled
tulle, then, in green
and gold and sherry.)
Beulah
would have settled
for less. She doesn't
pray when she's
terrified, sometimes, in-
side her skin like
today, humming
through a mouthful of pins.
Finished it's a mountain
on a dish, a capitol
poised on a littered shore.
The brim believes
in itself, its
double rose and feathers
ashiver. Extravagance
redeems. O
intimate parasol
that teaches to walk
with grace along beauty's seam.
Mostly I'm interested in hearing what others think. It's late and my brain-functioning is starting to slow. But one of the things that strikes me here and in all the poems is the progression of images. Instead of slipping into a scene by giving us the gradual zoom-in or zoom-out, Dove's movement is rapid and wildly unpredictable. She shoots around so much that it's often not until I've read through a poem 2/3 times, revisited what may have come before/after, and checked the chronology that I'm able to get a picture of the complete composition. This speaks to the complexity of her representations, and the good news is that they always pay off in the end.
I'm really interested in hearing what Molly and McC think, as they each have written about family before the program and during. Maybe Molly's post will have more about the dynamic between the lovers themselves, as my selections here don't speak to that. But this is certainly a compelling collection and I'm sure I'll have more to reflect upon it post-deadline!
cited: Dove, Rita. Thomas and Beulah. Pittsburgh: Carnegie-Mellon University Press, 1986.
