Observations

“Favorite and influential poets in my mind” is to be the subject of the next few blogs I post, and who can I cite as my very favorite poet? Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.J. If I were to phrase my memories in the language of some of my (former) students, it would be that I grew up a bit of a “dork.” Perhaps I misuse the word, but I certainly didn’t fit into the category of popular. The word that now comes to mind is intense, or driven. I had ambitions, some long term, others shorter term. One, in high school, was to be the editor of the yearbook or the editor of the school newspaper. As preparation I applied for a summer course at Fordham University, taught by Alfred J. Barrett, S.J. Now to be sure, it did not occur to me at the time that at age 15, between Junior and Senior year in High School, I might not be eligible for a Master’s Degree course. To my everlasting joy (and upon reflection, surprise) I was accepted. There were several courses that I attended, among which were Layout and Pictorial Journalism and another in International Relations. Since they were both “up my alley,” I aced them. Also, I made some dear friends among other more appropriate students. What was really outstanding that summer was that Fr. Barrett permitted me to sit in on his poetry seminar. Out under the hills and trees on Fordham’s Rose Hill campus he waxed eloquent on many topics, but most captivating was the work of Gerard Manley Hopkins, S. J.

 

I seldom commit a poem to memory, but Hopkins’ poem, Spring and Fall: to a young child, lingers in my mind, especially in the autumn:

 

Margaret are you grieving

Over Goldengrove unleaving?….

 

Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;…[1]

 

These lines simply do not leave me. The sounds and images are imprinted indelibly. Now it would be absurd to pretend that I can imitate or incorporate his inscape or other so original and unique uses of language, yet they do influence me in numerous ways. When I attempt to capture a scene in nature I hear and see the poem, and feel free to create a word where I am unfamiliar with some appropriate choice.

 

An example of this influence might be found quite pale but present in a newly composed as yet unpublished poem of mine:

 

Solace of Solstice

 

How very quickly light fades

And winter overtakes

Until faint glimmer reappears

And though the days slip by

The months but slowly shed

Like snakes their skins

And light regains the sky.

Circassian patterns readapt

And sleep comes late.

Soon warmth will hint,

Layers laid aside

Spring’s promise whispers

In a thaw.

 

Could this more deliberately echo Hopkins? Yes, but then it would not be my voice, and in honesty, I must only speak in my own familiar manner. Still, to my mind, Hopkins remains an inspiration.

 

By the way, I was successful in that short-term ambition, finding a place on both the school newspaper and yearbook.

 

[1] W. H. Gardner, Gerard Manley Hopkins, A Selection of Poems and Prose, The Penguin Poets, Great Britain,