Verse veterans and rising rhythmists find a common groove

Should poems be political? Do poets have the responsibility to change the world, even stop wars? These were some of the questions tackled by a panel of poets at the Princeton Poetry Festival.

Inaugurated in 2009 by Princeton University professor Paul Muldoon, the Princeton Poetry Festival is held biennially, alternating years between the Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival.

Although smaller than the Dodge -- the largest Northeastern verse extravaganza -- Princeton's fine-tuned festival allows the creme de la creme of established poets to introduce the strong new voices of the year.

 

This year it was held on April 29 and April 30, the last two days of National Poetry Month, in the Richardson Auditorium, upon a marble stage and under large murals of Greek philosophers and Roman soldiers, outfitted with horses and swords, with a group of world-class  poets from around the globe.

 

Much like the Dodge, the Princeton Festival schedules group readings, panel discussions, and a lecture. Held under one roof, the event has the advantages of intimacy and cohesiveness, over the Dodge's sprawling magnificence.

Several hundred people in attendance experienced all of the poets, rather than choosing from multiple simultaneous readings. Paul Muldoon, along with other Princeton faculty, introduced the readers, giving a personal touch.

During the two days, the likes of Agi Mishol, Carl Philips, Ales Steger, Brian Henry, and other international voices read more than once and participated in at least one discussion.

This year, Yugoslav poet Charles Simic (a U.S. Poet Laureate and Pulitzer Prize winner) and grande dame Sharon Olds (recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship, an NEA grant, and a National Book Critics Circle Award) read side by side with newcomers Anthony Carelli and Kathleen Graber -- Olds' former students.

Muldoon (himself a Pulitzer winner) hand-picked both Graber's and Carelli's new collections for the prestigious Princeton Series of Contemporary Poets, which he now edits. Also, as poetry editor for The New Yorker, he has been selecting their newly minted poems over the last few years.

 

Introducing Anthony Carelli, whose Carnations: Poems, he published this year, Muldoon described his poems as where "word is made flesh, reanimating dead metaphors as blossoms." Since completing his MFA  at New York University, Carelli has published in AGNI and Columbia as well as The New Yorker.

 

Describing his hometown of Poynette, Wisconsin as a place "so small it didn't have stop signs," Carelli now lives in Brooklyn, where he works as the coffee meister in a savory pie shop.

A few lines from his poem 'In Ordinary Time' address what it's like making your way as a poet.

Nothing came up, and the money ran out, so I found a job in the neighborhood -- food service, a  new joint called The Pie Shop. My work is what you might call whatever -- "whatever sells the pies," my boss says . . . Turns out I'm a natural.

It turns out that Kathleen Graber and Carelli studied together at NYU. Graber discovered she was a poet while a teacher, accompanying a group of teens on a trip to a poetry festival. She rocketed to stardom very quickly: she attended poetry workshops, then published Correspondence to rave reviews, and was choosen as the 2007 Hodder Fellow in Poetry at Princeton University. There she started her second book, The Eternal City, which was selected to launch the Princeton Series of Contemporary Poets in 2010.

One of the poems Graber read reflected back to her year at Princeton. In 'What I Meant To Say,' she pays tribute to one of her students.

Last month, after graduation, a student stopped me just outside the University gates despite a downpour. He wanted to tell me that he loved best James Schuyler's poem for Auden. So much to remember, he recited in the rain, as the shops began to close their doors around us. I thought he would live a long time.  He did not. Then a car loaded with his friends pulled up honking & he hopped in. There was no time to linger & talk.

 

 

Muldoon introduced Sharon Olds with, "I can't think of another writer who makes it look so easy."

Later during the panel discussion about poets and politics, Muldoon brought up an open letter Olds wrote to The Nation on October 10, 2005.

Declining Laura Bush's invitation to dine at the White House during the National Book Festival in Washington, Olds says at the end of the letter:

So many Americans who had felt pride in our country now feel anguish and shame for the current regime of blood, wounds and fire. I thought of the clean linens at your table, the shining knives and the flames of the candles, and I could not stomach it.

It's best not to get a poet angry.  And that was just the first afternoon of the festival in Princeton.