Airmail (23 page)

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Authors: Robert Bly

The rest is a description of how Mr Hazo is going to Sweden in the summer of 1971 and wants to present me the award at a ceremony in the Swedish Institute etc. And that the book will be brought out in the fall of 1972 and I will be invited to the U.S. at that time.

What I urgently must know is if this International Poetry Forum is something I should reject for moral reasons—I mean if it is responsible in any possible way for the Vietnam War, chemical warfare etc., like the grant you rejected—you sent me the correspondence with Carolyn Kizer as you remember. I trust your opinion here Robert. I have never heard about the International Poetry Forum before, I don’t know if it is paid by the CIA or Donald Duck’s uncle or...Simply, I want to know if I, when accepting, am used as a propaganda man for the Nixon administration or not. You are the man to know that. I am not rejecting it for secondary reasons—e.g. that I object to an introduction by Leif, or the translations made by Swenson etc. What is the meaning of “a jury of your peers.” Does it mean a jury of a representative selection of Americans, or Swedes, or just poets?

warmest greetings

your paranoiac Syria-Lebanon friend

Tomas

1971

6 Jan, ’71

Dear Tomas,

If I were you, I’d accept! The International Poetry Forum is a simple poetry center set up to help bring culture to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania: it is like those “Flor D’Italia Opera Houses” that used to be set up in the 19th century in Nevada mining towns. (It’s amazing how large they were, by the way—the buildings still stand, and they would import a European soprano every winter for a grand recital, when the miners would all take a bath.) You see, we’ve advanced quite a ways.

Samuel Hazo is a sullen Catholic academic, with an oily manner, who has the knack of getting money out of rich Pittsburgh widows at teas set up for the purpose. With his tea-gotten gain, he has set up an office in the Carnegie Library in Pittsburgh, and for five years or so, sponsored a series of poetry readings each season in a marvelous theater (or opera house) in Pittsburgh. James Wright and I read together there last winter, and I just say it was a good place to read: a large audience, and the audience used to hearing poetry. I had a 103° fever, but it was a pleasant memory. In the last two years the International Poetry Forum, no doubt suddenly becoming conscious of its own name, has taken to awarding prizes to worthy Turkish-Lebanese poets from Västerås. They print a credible book, and the award, though it hardly comes from a house that suggests the avant-garde or anything liberal or anything non-institutional, nevertheless has no—so far as I know—CIA or germ warfare links, and in fact no gross drawbacks.

I’ll give you a couple of pieces of advice on practical matters.

First, be sure they understand when you sign the agreement or whatever it is that they are not receiving
exclusive permission
to translate and publish the poems chosen. In other words, it should be clear that other people after May Swenson will be able to translate and publish the same poems she has chosen. This is called in English “non-exclusive” translation rights. The Rilke estate got itself into serious trouble by granting exclusive rights to certain English translators of the poems they wanted, and the result is that no one can put out a selected Rilke now (with younger translators) because the older translators will not release their rights.

Second
the public reading
in Pittsburgh. We don’t know at this point whether May Swenson’s translations will be any good or not. If her translations are no good, the public reading of your poems at Pittsburgh in the fall of 1972 will be harmed no matter how sweetly you warble them in Swedish. So when you’re writing them, you might just drop in a sentence to the effect that in the public reading at the Forum you would like to use also some translations of Eric Sellin and Robert Bly, who were the first, etc etc. Then if May Swenson’s translations turn out to be terrible, you can use half at least of our translations; or, if Swenson’s are OK, you can use just a single translation. That will give you some leeway, and won’t put you entirely at the mercy of the OFFICIAL PITTSBURGH TRANSLATOR.

On the whole, I think it’s a nice stroke of luck. The International Poetry Forum also sponsors a prize each year for a first book by a new American poet, and the contest is drawing more and more attention each year, so the young poets are aware of the Forum.

The “jury of your peers” is bureaucratic language meaning you are not to inquire who the jury
were.
I would guess it was Mrs. Arvidsson, Samuel Hazo, Leif Sjöberg, and possibly Russel Vowles, with maybe Göran Prinz-Påhlson.

The $1000 is nice—it’s too bad he can’t send you the check right now, and just give you flowers when he comes to Sweden this summer!

Congratulations! Inform the Lebanese colony in Västerås...

Yours faithfully,

Robert

21 Jan, ’71

Dear Tomas,

Thank you for your letter to the Pittsburgh Benefactors. It wasn’t exactly a cry of joy, and I’m very curious how this inhibited Catholic will respond to it. You did everything but warn him he has to take off his shoes before he enters your house! But it’s too late now—he’s already promised you the dough, so what can he do? I think it’s good for him too—Americans seem to have an engrained conviction that everyone will fall over backward at their gifts.

Everyone about here has been working very hard cleaning oil off birds. They now realize that you mustn’t wash them with detergents, but only with mineral oil, which helps to preserve the birds’ own natural oils. And 85% are living this time if brought to a cleaning station. At the last oil spill 90% of the birds washed died.

This is just a note to tell you that the best pamphlet series we have, published by Lillabulero Press, in Ithaca, N.Y., has agreed happily to publish
Night Vision
right away. They’ll have it out by April 1st. It hasn’t been decided yet whether to include the Swedish or not. If the Swedish is left out—and I think that would be all right in a pamphlet—they might be able to sell the pamphlet for 50¢ or 75¢! I’ve suggested they follow the same general design as in
Mörkerseende,
large type, lots of open space. The editor, William Matthews (he wrote the piece on me in the
Tenn Poetry Journal
toward the end—and is the best critic we have about the age of 30—) will write you.

Your Boswell faithfulus,

Robert

Västerås 14-2-71

Dear Robert,

Thank you for letters and magazines! I had just finished 5 pages of my “long” poem, growing slowly like a crocodile, when I got your message that you had typed 40 (!) pages of a new work. Oh. And it is probably good, not like the FILIBUSTER poetry of the late James Dickey type. My own effort is a serious excercise in filibuster poetry writing, an attempt to give the small talkative fellow inside me a chance.

But 40 pages!

You ask me about Mr Hazo’s reaction. My letter was not meant to be unfriendly, it was meant to be straightforward. I had to prevent—at this early stage—them from making the prize a Swedish-American official friendship demonstration with official people etc. I was told that 12 persons from the Mellon foundation (mostly rich men) are doing Europe and Sweden in June, they are visiting Stockholm and are going to be present at the ceremony when I am receiving the prize. Actually they had already invited themselves to a dinner paid by the Swedish Institute for the occasion. The official American people here are always stressing the good relations between the U.S. and Sweden, there are small differences in opinion about the Indo China war, but that is of no importance, we have so much in common, look at the cultural exchange etc....That is their attitude and I did not like the idea of being used as an example of wonderful cooperation demonstrating that different opinions about the Indo China war are of no importance. What now happens is that the Swedish Institute will treat them as welcome
private tourists,
no flags, no embassy people present at the dinner etc. The ceremony I have to swallow (difficult for a cerebrotonic person with no viscerotonic “love of polite ceremony”). Well, Mr Hazo’s reaction was that he phoned Ingrid Arvidsson in Washington and complained a little. She got irritated (she seems to be very much for smooth cooperation between the U.S. and Sweden) and asked the Swedish Institute why I was troublesome. I had to discuss the matter with her. From Mr Hazo I have heard nothing. He probably regards me as a difficult person. Mrs Arvidsson seemed very anxious that the good benefactors should not be hurt. She has sent a lot of material too from the Poetry Forum—even Dan Berrigan is included! Sometimes I find the U.S. very confusing.

From Leif Sjöberg and May Swenson I have heard absolutely nothing.

It seems to me strange a cultural life that depends upon the benevolence of rich people. It must create a disgusting combination of submissiveness and rebellion in the mind of the artist. How does it work? I want to hear your wise point of view about it, your observations. If you are a poet, like Mr Hazo, do you feel embarrassed, flattered or angry together with the rich? Is it a business-like attitude you develop or an Uncle Tom mentality? Or are the circumstances of no importance, can you have a matter-of-fact acceptance of the conditions?

How is a small publisher like Lillabulero Press organized? Can it work independent of benefactors?

It has been a hard week with too much work—50% of the psychologists at our institution are ill and I am in command, I have had no time for anything but testing. And now on Sunday the MIGRAINE arrives, it grows and grows, in a few hours I will be in bed with the facial expression of one of the old Spanish painter’s martyr portraits. Write soon dear Robert and give Carol my warmest greetings.

Tomas

24 Feb, ’71

Dear Tomas,

I just saw your letter. I never
see
the rich! Those bristles and bad manners you see sticking out of
The Sixties
are there partly to prevent that blob-like embrace, which has suffocated many a good Midwest farm boy.

One reason
The Sixties
has been liked by the kids is that they know I get no money—nor it—from the benefactors, or the rich in general. Lillabulero Press, I think, is independent as well. It’s a “small press.”

But you can take one embrace from the rich here and then flee—embraces by the rich in a
foreign country
are amusing, like visiting the Australian section of the zoo.

Your friend,

    Robert

Västerås 21-3-71

Dear Robert,

Thank you for the acceptances from Berkeley etc. I will use them when I have my next talk with the Writer’s Foundation. It is strange having you as an efficient impresario—it is as if Dylan Thomas was arranging a reading trip for John Malcolm Brinnin. What I should like best is to give a few readings. Enough to have a reason to visit the U.S.A. and you and Carol and the Pacific. To give lectures about modern Swedish literature would be almost impossible for me. I am no expert on that, and I am often against my fellow poets here. In the final selection of reading places I think I would favor those who are not particularly interested in “Scandinavia.” Geographically I would favor Hawaii and California.

Simply I want to see new areas and meet my friends. I want to read to people who are interested in the kind of poetry I write and who don’t care if the poet is Swedish, Lebanese or Byelorussian.

I have got the proposed Publication Agreement from Pittsburgh University Press. I look forward to long and taxing negotiations. It is a contract between an analphabetic South American boxer and a Chicago boxing syndicate. It starts:

“Grant. 1. To grant and assign to the PUBLISHER the sole and exclusive right to publish or to cause others to publish the work in all forms in all languages (!) throughout the world.”

So that was the type of agreement you warned me about. I don’t understand what they think they gain by pressing for exclusive rights. It is not
Love Story
I have written. If some other person translates me in a magazine or another book that will simply—if we are lucky—stimulate some interest in me and give an impulse to buy the Pittsburgh book. I will try to convince the publisher. Probably they don’t know about
The Seventies
and Lillabulero editions. Shall I tell them? My immediate reaction is to deny exclusive rights. If after half a year of fruitless negotiations they threaten to withdraw the prize I will give them 2 years of exclusive rights and exclude the better poems from the final selection. I hope to hear from you soon.

Love and Peace

    Tomas

26 March, ’71

Dear Tomas,

I called Hazo and talked him out of the “exclusive rights” business. The editor of Pittsburgh Univ Press called me back, and they intend to rewrite that part of the contract, asking for only
non-exclusive
rights, and, of course, dropping their request for rights in other languages, which was a mad idea to start with. So hold firm.

In the conversation, Hazo apologized for asking May Swenson—it seems he did no research and didn’t know that Eric Sellin and I had already translated you. He wanted to “get something down on paper” right away, and so asked May Swenson, who was the only American poet with a Swedish name he could think of. She, alas, does not really known Swedish, and Leif Sjöberg is having to prepare interlinear prose trots for her.

In fairness, Eric Sellin is the one they should have asked. He first published translations of you in that New Directions Annual, and they were
good
translations.

You might ask for Eric, even at this late date. He would do a better book than May Swenson, I’m sure. Maybe they could work together—each doing half of the poems chosen. That would bring some money to Eric, and would also recognize the work that he has done on you, and his early faith in your poetry.

Why not? You have some rights in this matter. I think it was crazy of Hazo not to ask your opinion before assigning a translator, but I think you could still
add
Eric, if you think it’s worth it.

Love from this

  sunlit madhouse

    Robert

Västerås 2 april -71

Dear Robert,

I feel a sudden need to write to you, just for no reason at all. I get sick of reading about the popular war hero William Calley. He is swelling and swelling in the newspapers. He is swelling to the status of a National Symbol, like John Kennedy was in the good old days.

Let us talk about other things. I have in front of me a huge pile of May Swenson translations. She is translating faster than I can read. Her letters are
kind.
No balloons pricked yet. She assures me that she will follow my advice. I have the impressions that she can do good things out of my school-boyish poetry (my first 2 books, now almost completely translated by her). Let me give you an example. Is it good?

Unmoving, the ant in the forest keeps watch,

seeing nothing. Nothing heard but the ticking

of dark greenery, nightlong the murmur deep

in summer’s gorge.

The spruce tree at point, like a clock’s jagged

hand. The ant aglow in the mountain’s shadow.

A bird screams! At last. Slowly the cloud-cart

begins to roll.

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