Overnight you access an underlying gratitude and love that somehow coexists with the corrosive anger and resentment present in the day.
Category: Hold
stuff on hold
Third night in a row hoping you don’t wake up.
Despite this, in solitude, I carry the joy of utterance
Feeling ill. Feeling subpar. That is to say, poorly; less than well. Despite this, in solitude, the joy of utterance.
which is death
the music, which is death
the art, which is death
the season, which is death
the moment, which is death
the sound, which is death
the light, which is death
the wind, which is death
the voice, which is death
the laughter, which is death
the love, which is death
I wonder if you could talk about some of your early influences
I wonder if you could talk about some of your early influences. I’m thinking in particular of well-known influences.
Well, Dudley Fitts, of course… He was at Andover when I knew him, but I think all the schools had him at one time or another. Of course, he was getting pretty old at that point. His best days were probably behind him. He had some weird theory about transmuting base metals into gold.
And later, at Harvard…
Well, he came with me to Harvard. He followed me around there for a number of years.
You’ve written movingly of your falling-out.
There came a time—inevitably, I suppose—when I felt I had to repudiate his influence. Remember, this was Harvard in the sixties; I was taking a lot of mind-altering drugs, appearing with my friends on David Susskind and so forth, and eventually he became an embarrassment. Still, I’m not proud of it; still haven’t quite forgiven myself. I’m working on that. I’ve given myself permission to forgive myself.
Well, Dudley Fitts, of course… He was at Andover when I knew him, but I think all the schools had him at one time or another. Of course, he was getting pretty old at that point. His best days were probably behind him. He had some weird theory about transmuting base metals into gold.
And later, at Harvard…
Well, he came with me to Harvard. He followed me around there for a number of years.
You’ve written movingly of your falling-out.
There came a time—inevitably, I suppose—when I felt I had to repudiate his influence. Remember, this was Harvard in the sixties; I was taking a lot of mind-altering drugs, appearing with my friends on David Susskind and so forth, and eventually he became an embarrassment. Still, I’m not proud of it; still haven’t quite forgiven myself. I’m working on that. I’ve given myself permission to forgive myself.
To this day, I find myself thinking, “What would Dudley do in this situation?” Or, “What would Dudley think of this?” I try to find myself worthy of his memory. In a way, I guess he’s become my Beatrice—him and Beatrix Potter.
You dangled him by the ankles from your tenth floor window.
That is absolutely not true! Cal Lowell did that. (Shudders) You could always tell when Cal was “going off” — that ghastly smile of his, glasses all steamy…
OK — so I was in the room when it happened…
OK, OK —so I held one of his ankles. But it was Cal’s idea. That was a summer! I’m afraid we all went a little crazy.
You dangled him by the ankles from your tenth floor window.
That is absolutely not true! Cal Lowell did that. (Shudders) You could always tell when Cal was “going off” — that ghastly smile of his, glasses all steamy…
OK — so I was in the room when it happened…
OK, OK —so I held one of his ankles. But it was Cal’s idea. That was a summer! I’m afraid we all went a little crazy.
last will and testament
He did it for the possibility of its future discovery. One day someone might find it. His last will and testament.
disproportionate irritation
A near-mystical arrangement of personality quirks had aligned themselves to provoke disproportionate irritation in the people around him—a clearing of the throat might result in a shoe thrown at his head; a raised eyebrow could empty a room.