The Old Man Who Made the Dead Trees Blossom, Japanese Fairytale Series (Hasegawa no. 4), 1885. From the Children’s Literature Collection.
Caught Me Eye on Arbor Day
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Yellow Power, Yellow Soul: the radical art of Fred Ho
Last evening, I had the pleasure of meeting Fred Ho and hearing him speak at the book signing for Yellow Power, Yellow Soul: the radical art of Fred Ho, co-edited by Roger N. Buckley and Tamara Roberts, University of Illinois Press. In attendance was filmmaker Steven De Castro who has made a video showcasing Fred Ho’s original clothing designs currently on exhibition at the Knox Gallery, Harlem, New York. One of the many ways Fred Ho expresses himself. Check it out.
Through the Lens of An Anthropologist: Jack Kerouac Reading ‘October In the Railroad Earth’
Carey MacDonald is an undergraduate Anthropology major and writing intern. In her blog series Through the Lens of an Anthropologist, Carey analyzes artifacts found in the collections of Archives and Special Collections.
The Beat poets characterized themselves as non-conformists who dismissed the growing materialism of 1950s American society in order to lead a freer, more spontaneous lifestyle. The poetry of Jack Kerouac reflects the Beat ethos, and it is within the collection of spoken word records that we find several LP albums on which Kerouac recites his own poetry to the tune of music.
Poetry for the Beat Generation is the result of the 1959 collaboration of Jack Kerouac and composer Steve Allen under New York’s Hanover-Signature Record Corporation. According to the LP’s jacket, this recording session lasted only an hour, as decided by both Kerouac and Allen who felt that this first, improvised recording sufficed – and it certainly did. Their unusual collaboration illustrates through words and music the curious life of the nonconforming individual. In “October In The Railroad Earth” Kerouac warbles about the many different people he sees in the diverse city of San Francisco. This poem is like Kerouac’s own sociological study: he juxtaposes the rushing commuters with newspapers in hand with the roaming “lost bums” and “Negroes” of the “Railroad Earth.” Kerouac furthers this theme of dualism when he remarks about things as ordinary as the movement of day to night and from sunny, blue sky to deep blue sky with stars.
Despite this thematic duality however, it is apparent that Kerouac does not mean to draw distinctions between the groups of people he observes. Instead he familiarizes himself with all sorts of people, breaks down the social divisions separating them, and lives among them: “Nobody knew – or far from cared – who I was all my life, 3,500 miles from birth, all opened up and at last belonged to me in great America.”
While “October In The Railroad Earth” is comprised of his momentary observations of the world, Kerouac’s recitation makes these observations inherently complex and compelling. The unique combination of his deep Lowell, MA accent with his precise word placement, expressive diction, and comical use of onomatopoeia makes this particularly vivid poem grab the attention of and resonate with the listener. Kerouac also tends to end his phrases with an upward inflection instead of dropping the last word to give pause to his thoughts. This is indicative of the almost never-ending stream of consciousness that runs through his mind, just like what each of us experiences every day.
Steve Allen’s improvised jazz piano accompaniment further enhances the potency of Kerouac’s recitations in that it reinforces the tone of the poem. In the case of “October In The Railroad Earth,” Allen’s rifts become fast and exciting when Kerouac discusses the busy commuters and then mellow out when day becomes night and when Kerouac comments on California’s “end of land sadness.”
“The Sounds of The Universe Coming In My Window” also reflects on an individual’s everyday sensory experiences, such as listening to the humming of aphids and hummingbirds or marveling at the trees outside. Allen’s piano and Kerouac’s alliteration and echo amplify the “sounds of the universe” described in this poem.
The somber piano accompaniment on “I Had A Slouch Hat Too One Time” establishes the wistful tone of Kerouac’s poem in which he laments that perhaps he does not belong with the Ivy League men of New York City who wear slouch hats and Brooks Brothers slacks and ties. Instead, on top of a now whimsical piano melody, he tells a (most likely) fictional tale about consuming drugs in the bathroom of a store in Buffalo, NY and then proceeding to steal a man’s wallet and begin a shoplifting spree. This poem clearly reflects the non-conforming values of the Beats and calls into question the value of the posh lifestyle of the men described in the poem.
Jack Kerouac and Steve Allen’s Poetry for the Beat Generation effortlessly reveals the dissenting ideals of the Beats, and across the span of American history we see a similar pattern of social disdain for the status quo.
Carey MacDonald, writing intern
Faculty publication celebrates Pura Belpre
Dr. Lisa Sanchez Gonzalez, associate professor in UConn’s English Department, has published a new book on Pura Belpre, the storyteller, author and librarian at New York Public Library who brought Puerto Rican folklore and the needs of bilingual children to light. In addition to extensive biographical information about Belpre and a selection of pictures, Dr. Sanchez Gonzalez has included 32 of Belpre’s stories and 12 essays. The essays range from such topics as “The Art of writing for children” to “Library work with bilingual children.”
Cover, The Stories I read to the children: the Life and writing of Pura Belpre, the legendary storyteller, children’s author, and New York Public Librarian by Lisa Sanchez Gonzalez (New York : Hunter College, 2013).
One of Belpre’s delightful stories that Dr. Sanchez Gonzalez has selected for inclusion is “The Parrot who liked to eat Spanish Sausages.”
Once there was a parrot who liked to each Spanish sausages. Every day he would saunter into the kitchen, watch for the cook to leave for a few minutes, then snatch the Spanish sausages from the pot and saunter out before she came back.
At last the cook became suspicious and decided to watch the parrot. One day she hid behind the kitchen door and waited for the parrot to come. She had placed on the table a pot of vegetables with a string of sausages, as she often did before she lit the fire.
By and by the parrot came sauntering in. He went straight to the table, lifted the pot’s lid, took out the string of sausages, and made short work of them. Then off he sauntered again.
The cook said not a word. But later on, when she had placed the pot on a low fire, and the water was lukewarm, she picked up the parrot and poked his head into the pot. The parrot lost all of his head feathers and never again snuck into the kitchen to lift the Spanish sausages out of the pot.
One day a very important guest arrived to visit the family. And, as he often did, he overstayed his visit. Since it was time for dinner the family invited him to eat with them. The guest accepted graciously. While they ate, the parrot sauntered into the dining room. He circled the table twice, then flew up and sat on the guest’s shoulder. Suddenly he noticed that the guest’s head was completely bald. “So,” the parrot cried, “you too like to eat Spanish sausages!” And laughing and screeching the parrot flew out of the room.
Caught My Eye Today
6,000,000,000 A Book of Images by Ross Sullivan-Wiley, 2004. From the Gus Mazzocca Collection of Books Printed at the UConn Printshop
New Book on Ruth Krauss and Crockett Johnson by Dr. Philip Nel
Dr. Philip Nel’s newest work, Crockett Johnson and Ruth Krauss: How an Unlikely Couple Found Love, Dodged the FBI, and Transformed Children’s Literature, was published in September of 2012 by the University Press of Mississippi. This book is the culmination of years of work to bring to light the lives and times of the man who created Harold and the purple crayon and the woman who, with Maurice Sendak, created A Hole is to dig. Over the course of their marriage and collaborations, they created over 75 books and influenced some of the best in the business, including Chris van Allsburg who thanked Harold and his purple crayon in his Caldecott acceptance speech in 1981. Nel points out that while Krauss and Johnson were “never quite household names…Their circle of friends and acquaintances included some of the important cultural figures of the twentieth century.” (pg.7) This impeccably researched work which literally took Nel a decade to write, is arranged in 28 chapters, with extensive notes, bibliography, index and illustrations, some reprinted from published works and some from the three dozen archives he visited including the Northeast Children’s Literature Collection. In his epilogue, Nel writes, “Crockett Johnson shows us that a crayon can create a world, while Ruth Krauss demonstrates that dreams can be as large as a giant orange carrot. Whenever children and grown-ups seek books that invite them to think and to imagine, they need look no further than Johnson and Krauss. There, they will find a very special house, where holes are to dig, walls are a canvas, and people are artists, drawing paths that take them anywhere they want to go.” (pg. 275)
Congratulations, Dr. Nel, on an exceptional work of scholarship.
Philip Nel, Crockett Johnson and Ruth Krauss (Jackson : University Press of Mississippi, 2012). ISBN 978-1-61703-624-8. EBook 978-1-61703-625-5.
Insight on a Fellowship
In his third blog installment, Glastonbury teacher and writer David Polochanin, recipient of the James Marshall Fellowship, shares two of his original poems after reading poetry in the Dodd Collection, from the Joel Oppenheimer and Robert Creeley papers.
Blog post 3: On Poetry
“Cartography” and “Celebrating the Peace” by Joel Oppenheimer (Joel Oppenheimer Papers, Box 11, Archives & Special Collections, University of Connecticut Libraries). All rights reserved. No unauthorized reproduction allowed by any means for any reason.
3.20.13
Who would have
thought that
these papers,
with their typewriter
ink fading,
would see the
light of day
again, let alone
on this windy
Wednesday morning
in March?
When the poet
fashioned these words
40 years ago
they were
nothing special,
drafts scattered
in the author’s mind,
printed in a cluttered office,
gathering on the shelf
and the desk top,
in piles on the floor
against the wall,
and others in a stack
on the sill
beside a cactus.
The plant
(and the author)
have long since died
but today
I open a manila
folder and the poetry
comes alive, quite
a miracle, actually.
His words of reflection
and longing, poems
commemorating seasons,
and scenes
in New York City
that the poet likely
saw each day, planes
rising above the
Financial District,
papers blowing
on the sidewalk,
a bird that spent half
its morning jumping
from branch to branch
in a single tree
as a stream of taxis
formed one line
from here
to Central Park,
all of them turning at once,
then disappearing on
behind a monument
when I close this folder
and open the next.
“The Epic Expands” by Robert Creeley (Robert Creeley Papers, Box 2:Folder 48, Archives & Special Collections, University of Connecticut Libraries). All rights reserved. No unauthorized reproduction allowed by any means for any reason.
Sipping A Coke
Back when I was a kid
we used to sit on a porch
and sip Coke.
The parents sat in
rocking chairs,
holding their drink
in a bottle;
the young ones sat
on the concrete steps
flicking with their non-
drinking hand
the tiniest of pebbles
and the sun sat
motionless
in the sky.
We sipped it together.
We sipped it because
it was good. People
didn’t die because
of soft drinks, then.
No one developed
an addiction to caffeine
and diabetes
wasn’t a problem.
Having this drink allowed
us to chat about life,
about the dog’s laziness,
how the garden
was coming along,
and there was
a baseball game
on the radio
Saturday night.
Yes, those afternoons
had some kind
of timeless element.
I can still taste
the sweet soda
in my mouth
and I wonder
to this day
as I read this poem
what that
is all
about.
Take Back the Night, the Day, the Street, the Home…
Wednesday, April 17th is Take Back the Night on the University of Connecticut campus. An event recognized across North America in response to violence against wimmin. Since its inception Take Back the Night has been about reclaiming space beyond the physically passive act of recognition and observation. Wimmin, the disproportionate victims of domestic violence, rape, sexual assault and harassment, have found solidarity through the action of speaking out and mobilization en masse against this violence. It’s sister mobilization, Slutwalk, has also achieved support across the broad spectrum of wimmin who experience patriarchy in the streets, an intended social space for interaction in work, transit and play.
The Alternative Press Collection (APC) in the Archives contains numerous publications on wimmin-positive theory and praxis in response to gender violence since the 1960s. Of note is the feminist publication Aegis: Magazine on Ending Violence Against Women published in 1978 by the Feminist Alliance Against Rape. Defined by the magazine’s statement of purpose, the movement to build solidarity through information was seminal in establishing wimmin’s resources in regions where silence was (is) the normative response to gender violence:
The purpose of Aegis is to aid the efforts of feminists working to end violence against women. To this end, Aegis provides practical information and resources for grassroots organizers, along with promoting a continuing discussion among feminists of the root causes of rape, battering, sexual harassment and other forms of violence against women.
Depicted in the image below is the cover of the September/October 1979 issue, portraying the advocacy debate around wimmin’s rights to self defense.
In addition to our extensive APC collection of periodicals is a recently acquired special collection art installation about building solidarity and non-violence amongst wimmin through art therapy. In this case, pulping panties into paper! From the Peace Paper Project comes another alliterative piece, Panty Pulping! The installment consists of loose pieces of paper made from mulched wimmin’s underwear that has been forged anew through storytelling and constructing the foundations of a new page for which a narrative can be written about wimmins voices together.
To view these pieces or any materials about wimmin’s rights and radical feminism, please contact the curator.
Caught My Eye Today
Darlin’ Corey in the Fireside Book of Favorite American Songs. From the Billie M. Levy Collection. Never heard Darlin’ Corey? Try this.
‘Eyes Open, Perhaps Screaming’: Poetry of the Now
Celebrate National Poetry Month by exploring today’s poets and poetry available from our friends at the living-breathing heart of the now: poetry portals. These sites bring to the 21st century a tradition of independently curating, collecting and publishing poetry that existed during the mimeograph revolution of the 20th century. Kin to the muscular-yet-short-lived little magazines that thrived in the 1960s and 1970s, they are realms of the extraordinary, offering what the poet John Taggart in Number 1 (1969) of his little magazine Maps, describes as
…Poems [that] are not on the furthermost borders of the avant-garde. They are of the now in the continuum sense of ‘being’ – eyes open, perhaps screaming, but not leaping out of the present, and occasionally, they are of the past as renovated by those open eyes.
Caught My Eye Today
Songs of the University of Connecticut, from the University Archives
Caught My Eye Today
Lantern slide from College of Agriculture Records
