Chosen Child: Boston Playwrights’ Theatre

Chosen Child

Boston Playwrights’ Theatre

at Boston University

949 Commonwealth Avenue

Boston, MA

Now Playing through November 22

A Play by Monica Bauer

Directed by Megan Schy Gleeson

Review by Zvi A. Sesling

A schizophrenic wants to find his sister; his sister does not wish to be found. But is his sister actually his sister or someone else. And who is the woman doing her wash? Do we believe the woman talking to her is who she says she is? And what does Omaha, Nebraska have to do with all this? Questions, questions.

It all unfolds over approximately 90 minutes revealing a favorite subject of so many playwrights – dysfunctional families. However, there are some twists in this family, some of which are suspected, others come as a surprise; the unexpected is always lurking. And seeing Chosen Child will reveal the secrets embedded throughout.

In a discussion with the audience following the play, Ms. Bauer stated that parts of the play are autobiographically-based. This adds to the intensity and the interest in the characters. Ms. Bauer also said that while autobiographical the plot was heavily fictionalized with some things based on real happenings and others created to fit the play. However, one wonders how much was fictionalized, perhaps the dialogue is, and we are left to wonder if the characters are based on the real and where and where do the author’s life events begin and end.

The play is set in the New York City Port Authority Bus Terminal where David is trying to get to Omaha where he believes his sister lives. As the play progresses her location could be Omaha or somewhere in New York City. The play skips back and forth in time and moves to different places.

Playing David is Lewis D. Wheeler who speaks about people who may be imagined. Is his sister flesh and blood? Is the Rabbi he quotes real? Did his mother just die? More questions.

Lewis does an excellent job portraying David’s range of emotions. With shaking hands during heightened anxiety, he does a twirling dance common to schizophrenics and has a rising voice as he attempts to explain his situation and get what he wants, Lewis has created a memorable character who stays with the audience long after the play ends.

Margaret Ann Brady is a sorrowful, restrained Lee in her first Boston Playwright’s Theatre performance. Debra Wise (Donna) presents Donna, a psychologist, a person who has difficulty with her own emotions and needs to uncover her past and deal with the present. Claudia as Lee Mikeska Gardner portrays her as a young girl, young woman and finally as a dying mother is eclectic and unsympathetic as it should be played. Melissa Jesser as Anne, the Port Authority ticket seller displays the patience of a much older person trying to help David deal with his dilemma.

Overall there is a genuine value of seeing this play, an original by a Boston Playwright. It delivers an important message, sometimes difficult to watch, painful in so many ways. However there is a need for writing about adoption, a topic sometimes left unexplored on the stage, but one that is vital to society. That, plus the plot and the excellent acting make this a stage production worth seeing.

_________________________________________________

Zvi A. Sesling

Reviewer, Boston Small Press and Poetry Scene

Author, King of the Jungle and Author, Across Stones of Bad Dreams

Editor, Muddy River Poetry Review

Editor, Bagel Bards Anthology 7

Editor, Bagel Bards Anthology 8

Publisher, Muddy River Books

Minds of McLean Hospital: A Creative Balance: A Report on the Poets in the Asylum panel at the Boston Book Festival (Oct., 2014)

  


Minds of McLean Hospital: A Creative Balance: A Report on the Poets in the Asylum panel at the Boston Book Festival (Oct., 2014)

By Emily Pineau


    “McLean is a very beautiful place…the environment, the landscape…There are fake coyotes and wolves to scare off the geese. [But the] geese are not afraid of them because they know they aren’t real and I love this,” said poet and psychotherapist, Wendy Ranan, at the panel “Poets in the Asylum: The Poets of McLean Hospital” during the Boston Book Festival on October 25th, 2014. The panel was hosted by professor Doug Holder from Endicott College, who also has been a poetry group leader at McLean Hospital since 1982. The panel included Boston Globe columnist Alex Beam  (Gracefully Insane), Wendy Ranan ( The Quiet Room), Kathleen Spivack (  With Robert Lowell and his Circle), and Lois Ames (Confidante to Plath and Sexton--introduction to The Bell Jar).  McLean Hospital, a psychiatric hospital located in Belmont, MA, has been declared a national literary landmark due to the number of creative geniuses who have been treated there. Lois Ames opined that through poetry especially, patients are able to look at themselves, outside of themselves.  Poetry also allows patients to “develop their sense of continuity,” and to feel like there is a part of them worth seeing and exploring,

    Anne Sexton, who had taught poetry at McLean hospital, struggled with the concept of teaching patients at first because she did not want to hurt anyone’s fragile feelings.  This is when she turned to her friend and confidant, Lois Ames, and asked Ames to monitor her  poetry group and to give her guidance when needed.  Though, after watching Sexton, there was no critique to give because her method was immaculate.  Sexton later said to Ames, “I looked at the faces and looked at the eyes and all of [the patients] submitting poems.”  It is clear that Sexton deeply cared about teaching and how her words affected each of her patients.  Kathleen Spivack, author of With Robert Lowell and His Circle, added, “You knew you had Ann Sexton’s entire attention and that she cared.”  This type of dedication is what patients carry with them.  It is also this kind of love that has the potential to impact many patients’ lives and their writing. 


    After Ames talked about Sexton and the benefits of poetry at McLean, there was an opportunity to ask questions.  A patient (or past patient) at McLean attending this event was the first to take the microphone when this open discussion began.  When he started to speak, his demeanor and tone made it feel like he was starting a poetry slam.  He began, “This sums up Mclean,” and then he took a breath.  Every other word became the “f” word.  He continued and said:


    "We talk about fucking humiliation?  Every fucking night I stay in fucking ... McLean is fucking humiliating.  In the fucking quiet room...You want to know ...why I didn’t fucking kill myself?  Because I fucking failed.  At McLean I don’t... have a fucking creative bone in my fucking body.  It fucking drained it all out of me.  [Do you want to hear] the fucking truth about Mclean? [A patient there] fucking told me he was raped by [one of the workers] there." 

Doug Holder, the moderator of the discussion, encouraged the speaker to give someone else a turn to talk after he went on for awhile, and emphasized that the speaker had the right to his opinion, but that McLean has also helped a great number of people.  When the speaker put the microphone down and made his way to the door he added, “It’s not my fucking opinion.  It is the truth about what happened.”  After he left, Kathleen Spivack stepped in and talked about how the man was not wrong, and how she wishes that he did not leave so that they could have an open and honest discussion.  Unfortunately, not everyone is going to have a positive experience at McLean or any psychiatric hospital.  Also, not all psychiatric patients feel creative or want to write poetry.

 
    Once the awkward stillness of the room was cleared more questions were able to bring the calmness back.  Someone asked, “Is manic depression part of the creative picture?”  Spivack answered by explaining that it is a case-by-case thing.  If you are mentally ill this does not automatically mean you are creative, and if you are creative this does not indicate that you are depressed.  Also, earlier on in the discussion Ames stated, “[When it comes to creativity and mental illness] people write poetry in altered states of consciousness.”  In some ways mental illness does have a way of fueling creativity, and creativity allows someone to use an uncontrollable part of him or herself in a beautiful way.


    As the discussion came to a close Ames said, “I am 83-years-old, and you have to just keep pushing.” This relentless attitude can be used when writing poetry and when struggling with the battles of your mind.  Resources such as McLean hospital, poetry, and teachers give mentally ill people the opportunity to reach out.  And with this opportunity people may find the strength to “keep pushing.”

 **********************************************************************************

 Emily Pineau studies creative writing at Endicott College. Her poetry has appeared in the anthology, Like One: Poems For Boston, and in newspapers and literary journals such as the Somerville News, The Endicott Observer, The Endicott Review, Ibbetson Street, and Muddy River Poetry Review. In 2012 her poem, "I would for you" was nominated for a pushcart prize. In 2013 The Ibbetson Street Press published her poetry collection, No Need to Speak as part of the Endicott College/Ibbetson Street Press/Young Poet Series. She is currently an intern at Agni magazine at Boston University.

The Afterimages Poems by David P. Miller

David P. Miller

The Afterimages
Poems by David P. Miller
Cover Artist—Jane Wiley
Cervena Barva Press
Somerville, MA
www.cervenabarvapress.com
43 Pages
$7.00

Review by Dennis Daly

Scientists argue that the observation of any physical event changes it forever. I suspect that the same holds true for mental constructions entertained by the human mind—like memory. Memory needs distance and a delicate touch to keep it relatively undisturbed. Overly ambitious seekers of densely packed mnemonic truths and ham-fisted psychologists promising new age detective tools show very little for all their well- meant delving. On the other hand poet David P. Miller eases into his personal memories with a gentle touch and his efforts pay off with impressive poetic dividends.

The opening poem in Miller’s collection, Man with Teeth, touches with dutiful sensitivity an awkward moment shared between youth and age. It’s only a moment, but, in its oddness, one that lingers on through space and time. A four year old bus rider understands perfectly,

You contract your upper lip
toward your nose and use
your index finger
to indicate your teeth.
He takes this in.
His mother, mortified, mutters
“Don’t ask to see people’s teeth.”
But it’s too late. You and he
have shared a transgression
He will probably forget,
but you never will,
now that it’s in writing.

Buses become almost a mythical means of transportation into modes of being and remembered place. In his piece entitled Route One the poet takes us past a leviathan’s famous flukes into the city of Burlington Vermont. He searches for his own nativity. Here is a bit of the magic at the heart of the poem,

Across the cusp,
Route One begins the steep descent
toward what remains of old inland sea,
living lake still vast enough
to host its own rumored sea monster.
Gradual passage down Main Street
past the school building
where Melton and Dorothy went steady,
they who became my parents.
Where trees thin
water comes clear into view.

Miller skillfully treats another unique bus moment in his piece One Step Down. An elderly woman struggles with mobility and the dignity it brings. A chivalrous poet offers temporary assistance, not a personal relationship. The details exude subtlety. Poetic objectivity nudges the reader with its honest, but unsettling, last line exclamation. The poem ends this way,

I lurch from the pavement,
Offer my arm
As her balance worsens.

She finds vertical.
Her grip is steel.

Three steps and I
Pry her hand away.
We’re not going home together.

“Doing pretty well,” says the poet’s seventy-five-year-old father in an existential, if momentary reflection. He means it. Oh, there is irony here, but a natural brand which flows from the nasty, short, and brutish backdrop we all call home. The poem, entitled 1955, Miller sets into two scenes fifty-four years apart. I very much like his working of the juxtaposition of two age-appropriate sets of struggles. Shakespeare had it right: “What a piece of work is a man, how noble…how express and admirable.” The poet opens his piece with the younger version of his pioneer-parents,

The mother of twenty
the father of twenty-one
went away from home
together, he and she.
A boy of one month
nestled between boxes
in the back seat,
they drove, Vermont to Indiana,
left parents behind.
Her piano music packed
with the starter groceries
sent along to save the poor couple money.

I must say that I am familiar with the concept of starter groceries or tangible help with no guarantees. Shared moments like these—as simple as they are-- generously passed on by Miller, amaze with their singularity of reference and power of understated emotion.

In his poem Tangelo Peel Miller escorts us through life’s denouement with the sensual scent of citrus. His father sends a Christmas gift of Florida fruit. It affirms life loudly as the poet details whispers of death and aging. There is an undertone of religiosity here and the repetition of the word Christmas adds to it in an intriguing way. Miller puts it like this,

The scent of tangelo peel on my fingertips
midday at work.
The surprise package
of oranges, tangelos, and grapefruit
to be eaten while they were still good.
My father’s surprise
Christmas shipment of Florida citrus.
My father finding
Christmas again for himself.
My mother’s summer death…

Miller’s title poem, The Afterimages, does triple duty for me in this collection. Without question it also doubles as the poet’s master work, and thirdly it is, by the way, my favorite piece. Miller’s central character with her “rhinoceros limbs” rules the poem. She blinds gentlemen with the rudeness of her infirmities. The young, the healthy, and other mere mortals need to make way as she ascends into her mystical bus. Her staunch ally, the bus driver—a good man—supports her with absolute authority as she moves through the coach. Righteousness and civilization triumph, a poet finds wisdom, and a (perhaps) once-lovely woman finds her bus seat. Great climax! Miller describes his protagonist’s earlier journey thusly,

Supporting herself with
       A little folding grocery cart
on the bus at the supermarket
off the bus at the subway
determined smile and
the small voice of a girl
wears so many layers
dressed for November in May.
She pushes forth,
thanks the driver for kneeling the bus to her,
enormous, weak, tired.

Grab a suitcase full of your own memories. Get on this bus at the Cervena Barva Press stop. Then let first-rate poet and tour guide David P. Miller take you on his deftly-plotted magical spin.

Dear Elizabeth Lyric Stage Company of Boston

Dear Elizabeth

Lyric Stage Company of Boston

140 Clarendon Street, 2d Floor

Boston, MA

Now Playing

A Play by Sarah Ruhl

Directed by A. Nora Long

Review by Zvi A. Sesling

One would think that two of America’s great poets would write great letters, especially to each other.  Whoever thinks so is correct. Add to the letters the fact that there is pathos and humor and they become great letters.  No dull, wasted verbiage here.  Robert Lowell and Elizabeth Bishop pour their hearts out to each other and at times are brutally frank about the other’s poetry. 

One could also assume that letters between poets would not make a great play. Assumption wrong. Sarah Ruhl extracts two lives and brings them together, in sometimes confrontational and other times tender moments.  Her writing is never dull, in fact it is mostly riveting as the two protagonists move about indoors and outdoors, symbolic of their internal, external revelations. 

In one scene Bishop goes to Key West, Florida and to portray it, a Lionel electric train zips around a circular track to indicate the method of transportation.  In others snow falls, while in yet other scenes the stage or a suitcase opens to depict a beach or a lake.  Lighting and the scenery add to the reality.

However good the script, the scenery, the lighting it is always the actors who make or break a play. In this play Laura Latreille is a knock-out as Elizabeth Bishop.  Her hand movements say it all. When she is distressed her face reveals the anguish. Her happiness is the face of sunshine.  And her hugs for Lowell reveal her not-too-physically-close relationship with him and at time perhaps the romantic ambivalence she felt. Nonetheless, she is electric in the spectrum of Bishop’s emotions and a marvel to sit and watch and listen.

Ed Hoopman as Robert Lowell does an excellent job of portraying the Brahmin/aristocratic, mentally ill poet who depends heavily on Bishop’s friendship and commentary on his poems. Despite his illness, Lowell is a tender caring man who even during his time a McLean

Hospital is capable of lucidity for family and his one true friend.

It is noted in numerous books how they depended and influenced each other, something which both have stated.   In the program booklet the late Thom Gunn in his book Remembering Elizabeth Bishop wrote “Elizabeth told me about Robert Lowell.  She said, ‘He’s my best friend.’ When I met him a few years later, I mentioned that I knew her and he said, “Oh she’s my best friend.’ It was nice to think that she and Lowell both thought of each other in the same way.”

Sarah Ruhl is an award-winning playwright does a superior job of taking the letters of Lowell and Bishop and stitching together an extraordinary play, everyone interested in superior performance should attend.

Director Nora Long in directing her first Lyric Stage show does a wonderful job of bringing out the best out of both actors.

Dear Elizabeth is at the Lyric Stage Company of Boston through November 9 and I recommend anyone within reading to see it.

____________________________________________________

Zvi A. Sesling

Reviewer, Boston Small Press and Poetry Scene

Author, King of the Jungle and Author, Across Stones of Bad Dreams

Editor, Muddy River Poetry Review

Editor, Bagel Bards Anthology 7

Editor, Bagel Bards Anthology 8

Publisher, Muddy River Books

Interview with author E. B. Moore about her new novel: An Unseemly Wife

Author E.B. Moore

                                                    
 Interview by Endicott student Ellen Pulitzer



E.B. Moore’s first novel “An Unseemly Wife” is a harrowing tale, based on the lives of the author’s great grandmother and her family. It is a novel that began its life as a chapbook of poems entitled New Eden, A Legacy (Finishing Line Press ‘09). It is a story passed down from mother to daughter, of an Amish housewife and mother – Ruth – whose way of life is suddenly uprooted by the western expansion in the United States. In 1867, going against doctrine, Ruth’s husband decides to move the family from their quiet farm in search of free land in Idaho. A pregnant and overdue Ruth must pack up with their four children and follow her husband on a journey that forces her to make some serious sacrifices.

E.B. Moore was kind enough to take the time to do an email interview with me, in which we talked about her process in developing this book through Grub Street’s Novel Incubator Program.  She fleshed  this story out first through poems, which she later turned into pages of an inspiring journey.

***********************************************************************************

EP: The title of your new book An Unseemly Wife  is an interesting one. How was it chosen? 

EBM: The title came from collaboration with my agent, Alice Tasman. Originally the title had been A Wager of Bones, but she felt, at a glance this didn’t tell enough about the book. The novel follows Ruth as she resists obedience to her husband’s decrees, a very unseemly way to behave in their 19th century Amish fold. As the story begins, he bundles her and their four children (she is pregnant and overdue with their fifth) into a covered wagon, and against their faith, joins the dreaded English heading for free land in Idaho. On the trek, they face Indian attacks, a deadly pestilence, and prejudice leading to betrayal that left them alone on the trail-side fighting for their lives. Through it all her resistance takes many forms and brings her to question more than her husband. 

EP: I'm of the understanding that this book is based on your great grandmother's life experiences. What compelled you to write this book? 

EBM: My mother was fascinated by the story and told it often. She wanted to write it herself as a warning to my girls and me to trust in ourselves, but a brain tumor erased her memory before she could do no more than jot a cryptic list of incidents. So, even though I was a metal sculptor at the time, I gave it a try. My rendition started as a chapbook of poems called New Eden, A Legacy (Finishing Line Press ‘09). People who read the poems kept asking for details. The idea of a full narrative horrified me: too long, I’d get lost, besides, I didn’t know the details. But I joined Jenna Blum’s Grub Street novel class and in a matter of weeks became addicted to writing fiction. After more and more classes including Grub Street’s year long Novel Incubator, I finished the book. 

EP: What do you hope the reader will take away from her story? 

EBM: As it is with any art form, interpretation is in the eye of the beholder,

so I expect each reader will take something different from Ruth’s story. I’ll be interested to know what those interpretations are. 

EP: Is the character Ruth Holtz fictional, or was that the name of your great grandmother? 

EBM: Since this is a novel, I changed the names to protect the innocent along with the guilty. 

EP: I'm aware that your mother gave you the gift of the oral family history. Has your great grandmother's story affected your life in any profound way? 

EBM: Yes, it has. When I was a kid, “Ruth’s” strength inspired me as much as it did my mother and served as a bond between us. Mother had a scale model of the Conestoga wagon built and placed on her mantle as a constant reminder to be strong. After she lost her memory, she’d look at the wagon (then placed on my mantle, since she lived for ten years with my kids and me) and every day she’d say, “Tell me the wagon.” The kids would run from the room, hands over their ears. “No, no, not the wagon of death again.”

For the last six years, I’ve immersed myself in writing Ruth’s experience. This attempt to bring her to life has brought me to a generous new community and turned me into an author with a second book slated to come out from NAL/Penguin in the near future. 

EP: Can you tell me a little bit about your writing process? What was it like working in the Novel Incubator program? 

EBM: For me, writing is an everyday event, or I get crabby. If the words don’t flow, I read snippets of favorite books like March by Geraldine Brooks, or Grapes of Wrath. Many others overflow the bookshelves and stack tables and chairs around my loft. Reading all kinds of books helps every aspect of writing. This is why I’m part of several book clubs and writing groups. 

I took part in Grub Street’s Novel Incubator Program during its first experimental year when Michelle Hoover and Lisa Borders taught as a team. They led ten students through a yearlong program equivalent to an MFA. Each student came to the class with a completed novel, and for the first ten weeks we read and analyzed each one. As the year continued, we broke the novels down into chapters, scenes, and finally sentences. I have never worked so hard or been so excited about any schooling, up at four in the morning, canceling vacations, living, eating, and breathing the novels. Everyone in the group worked to help everyone else succeed, holding all feet to the fire in the most supportive way possible. Being a part of Grub Street classes has introduced me to an amazing community of writers that I treasure.

EP: Can you tell me a little about Ruth’s cultural background? Why was this journey so monumental for her? 

EBM: One of the basic tenets of the Amish faith, as outlined in the Ordnung, (The Ordnung is a set of rules for Amish, Old Order Mennonite and Conservative Mennonite living) is leading a Plain life (no frills, no frippery) and staying separate from the world at large. Ruth’s husband, Aaron, put her in an impossible situation. She had to choose between obeying him, which was her duty as a wife, or obeying the Ordnung. No matter what she chose, she’d be in the wrong, so she did her unseemly best to keep him from leaving the Fold. 

Though Aaron said he wouldn’t break from their faith, Ruth failed to dissuade him and they joined a wagon train in Pittsburgh. For the sake of their souls, they tried to keep distant from the others, but for survival they had to depend on the group. In the process Ruth came to realize people weren’t always what they appeared, and trusting the wrong person could prove more dangerous than an Indian attack. 


**********************************************************************************

Ellen Pulitzer is an English and Creative Writing major at Endicott College.

“The Biology of Luck” by Jacob M. Appel

 

“The Biology of Luck”
by Jacob M. Appel
Paperback: 220 pages
Publisher: Elephant Rock Productions
Review by Timothy Gager

Very interesting concept, if you enjoy a puzzle, a kind of thing inside a thing, creating an overall larger thing. A mirror held up facing another mirror. A book within a book. That was the strength and hook of "The Biology of Luck"; Jacob M. Appel's unfurling of the conceptual nature within his work.


Then you get the bad-ass characters. If you like real characters, in doubt of their existence, thus ending up in places they should and often should not be in, then this one is a winner. Appel writes with fine craft in this artful novel, which I feel is good---I enjoyed the writer's set up, but I also felt it just missed. I wanted to like the female protagonist, Starshine Hart more, wanted in my mind as a reader to be able to hang out with her, but somehow couldn't place myself there. Larry Bloom, a struggling writer, is also the writer creating the story within the novel's story. Larry, often placed in situations beyond his control (which, of course he's creating) as a floundering tour guide to Dutch tourists--I could relate to his weaknesses much better.


Many times, I felt Appel was hitting on cylinders that I knew he was swinging for but I didn't pick up on 100% of the time. Upon completion of "The Biology of Luck", I felt I wanted to audit a course taught by Mr. Appel to gain full appreciation of this text. I  mean this as a high compliment, as I wanted to dive into and fully appreciate, every nuance here, but as a reader, was left frustrated. 

Winter in China: An American Life by Bert Stern

 


Winter in China by Bert Stern
Reviewed by Lawrence Kessenich

The biography of a well-known historical figure has its appeal — it gives us (we hope) insight into a person we’re more or less well acquainted with. Bert Stern, on the other hand, lifts a fascinating and barely known historical figure, Robert Winter, out of obscurity, illuminating the life and his times of a man who, without Stern’s diligence, few of us would ever even have known existed. And we’re all the richer for his effort.

Winter was born in Crawfordsville, a small town in Indiana, where, when he heard tales of relatives killing Indians, he found himself sympathizing with their Native American victims. This was a harbinger of Winter’s discomfort with his own culture, which ultimately led to him to forsake it altogether and live for most of the last 67 years of his life (he lived to be 100) in China, during the tumultuous last three-quarters of the 20^th century. This period included the Japanese subjugation of China, World War II, the rise of ruthless dictator Chiang Ki-shek — supported, to Winter’s consternation, by the US —the Communist victory of Mao and the Cultural Revolution.

Educated at Wabash College in Crawfordsville (where author Stern later taught, himself), Winter went on to advanced studies in the US, Paris and Naples, eventually teaching college-level literature in Chicago. It was here he first met Chinese scholars and was fascinated and charmed by the Chinese culture they represented. They, in turn, appreciated his interest in their culture, which ultimately led to an invitation to teach at Tsinghua College in Peking. Winter was a professor in China for the rest of his life.

Stern uses his knowledge of Chinese culture (he taught for a year in Peking, himself) and his personal knowledge of Winter (he interviewed Winter several times — and was even at his 100^th birthday party) to paint a vivid picture of a complex man in a complex time and place. The reader lives through a great deal with Winter over the course of this book, and I challenge any reader not to care about the man and his fate.

What Stern explores, with a fascination that the reader can’t help but share, is what led Winter to adopt China as his home, and to retain his allegiance to his adopted country through an almost unbelievable amount of deprivation and danger. He found ways to help his fellow Chinese — especially his beloved students, who often suffered most — oppose first the Japanese and then the brutal Chiang and his Guomindang party. Winter was always willing to suffer along with them and to use his privileged position as a foreigner to do dangerous things they could not do — even, for example, putting his own life on the line by intervening when he saw someone being brutalized on the street by soldiers.

What Winter attempted to do with his teaching — and his life — was to find the place where Eastern and Western cultures could meet and learn from each other. He taught Western literature and invited students to his home for evenings of listening to classical Western music — in fact, this last was another way he brought Western culture to China, by relating to his students in a personal manner, something Chinese professors rarely did. He also learned and grew from being exposed to the Chinese.

One thing that fascinated Winter about Chinese culture was the way a certain delicacy and profound sense of community was able to survive brutality — and there was plenty of that during Winter’s tenure in China: wholesale slaughter by soldiers, artillery and bombs during the Japanese invasion; casual rape by American soldiers as World War II wound down; murder of peaceful demonstrators by the Guomindang after the war; widespread death by starvation as the world war and then the civil war between the Communists and Guomindang destroyed the economy. Winter often went hungry himself for months at a time, when his meager means of support by the university and by the Rockefeller Foundation was reduced or delayed.

Through all this, Winter maintained his dignity, his honor and his commitment to his adopted people. It’s not overstating it to call this man a hero, though it was the modest kind of heroics that doesn’t often make it into the history books. Thanks to the diligent research and thoughtful interviews that Stern conducted in order to write this book, and thanks to his skill at translating that material into a vivid narrative, this modest hero now belongs to the ages.

Winter in China is available in hardcover, paperback or as an e-book at http://bookstore.xlibris.com/AdvancedSearch/Default.aspx?SearchTerm=winter+in+china

Contributors to Ibbetson Street 36 (Due out in Late November 2014)

CONTENTS

A WARNING 1

X. J. Kennedy

THE OTHER WOMAN 2

Kirk Etherton

MONTMARTE 3

Lyn Lifshin

TAKEN 4

Wayne-Daniel Berard

STREET MAN 4

Julia Carlson

RED ROSE BUSH SURROUNDED BY SNAKES 5

Zvi A. Sesling

NOW 5

Susan Tepper

REPAIR 6

Geraldine Zetzel

HOW TO DRESS LIKE A ROBOT TRYING TO PASS AS A HUMAN 7

Valerie Loveland

DREAMING IN BANGLEDESH 8

Elizabeth K. Doran

INCONVENIENT BAGGAGE 8

Harris Gardner

ON THE DEATH IN ALASKA OF MARIE SMITH JONES 9

Michael Ansara

EIGHTY-FIVE 9

Robert K. Johnson

HART CRANE’S BRIDGE TO NOWHERE 10

Alan Catlin

BABYLON 10

Alexander Levering Kern

MOMENT BEFORE, MOMENT AFTER 11

Teisha Dawn Twomey

PIETY MEETS PUBERTY 12

Denise Provost

LIFE STRETCHES LIKE A WILDERNESS 12

Steven Sher

DO ONLY ARMENIANS WRITE LOVE POEMS TO MOUNTAINS 13

Diana Der-Hovanessian

NOVEMBER 14

Rhina P. Espaillat

THE SPIRAL STAIRCASE 14

Joan Dugas

GOD RESIGNS 15

Llyn Clague

BONNARD’S PAINTING: NUDE IN THE BATH AND SMALL DOG 16

Ruth Smullin

APPLES AND HONEY 16

Marge Piercy

BEAUTIFUL DREAMERS 17

Charles Sabukewicz

KEDGING 18

^{Wendell Smith}

ARTIST 18

Rene Schwiesow

A MILD ATTACK OF MADNESS AT THE FRICK 19

Ellaraine Lockie

DIS PLANS A CHANGE 20

Victor Howes

MOVING NORTH PROSPECT STREET 21

Mary Buchinger

IN THE ASSISTED LIVING CENTER 22

Barbara Boches

I SIT ACROSS FROM HIM 23

Jean Valentine

VETERAN 23

Jean Valentine

THE WAVES 24

Lucy Holstedt

WALKING THE LAKOTA PEOPLE’S LAND 26

Lauren Davis

WEST OF MIDNIGHT 26

Andy Roberts

THE BUDDHA’S SHOULDER 27

Lawrence Kessenich

WINTER’S SPARROW 27

Ruth Chad

TRAVELING TO RACE POINT BEACH TO HEAR THE WHALES SING 28

Elisabeth Weiss

CASTING 29

Karen Locascio

ARANEUS DIADEMATUS 30

Krikor Der Hohannesian

THE ALCAZAR, TOLEDO, SPAIN 30

Nina Rubinstein Alonso

SUGARING OFF 31

Philip E. Burnham, Jr.

LAMENT FOR THE MAKERS 32

George Kalogeris

HOP ON LEDGE 34

Michael Todd Steffan

YIDDISH AND MY LIFE 35

Richard J. Fein

MADAM ELEPHANT 35

Keith Tornheim

City of Eternal Spring By: Afaa Michael Weaver

City of Eternal Spring

By: Afaa Michael Weaver

Review By, Paige Shippie



*************   Paige Shippie,one of our talented students at Endicott College, took on the challenging task to review poet Afaa Michael Weaver's new collection of poetry City of Eternal Spring. Weaver recently won the Kingsley Tufts Award in Poetry.

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In “City of Eternal Spring,”  Afaa Michael Weaver is on a journey of not only self discovery, but uncovering the origins of everything that has presented itself in his existence. As the Chinese String Theory would have it, this journey is never ending because as long as something is in existence, then it has a certain pull on the world and destiny (no matter how minuscule).

Weaver charts out his discovery in his travels through Eastern culture and his struggle  with memories that haunt him from the past. He aims to reinvent himself, but it is a slow process that sometimes requires him to forget his past life and past ego all together.

The titles that Weaver uses are usually underplayed; they are at a surface level while beneath there is vast life and rich imagery and meaning to dig up in his ppoetry. Underneath, there is a vivid scene that makes one travel to different worlds and everywhere and every moment in between. Weaver at first takes a tactile and tangible stance with his words and then broadens it out to be more metaphorical and  legend-like. Weaver starts by capturing a picture, and then focusing with his creative lens  on the ideas he wants to bring to the focal point. Like a camera, he freely zooms in and out and to varying degrees of the macroscopic world.  In this method, he ties together the idea that everything is unified, whole and interconnected through themes that Weaver can only begin to describe through intense imagery.

Weaver's original imagery is also used to stitch the seams of his emotion together, and there is never a cliche in sight: “Where a blossom lifts its head and thrives where flowers die,”(3). Sometimes Weaver’s beautiful imagery is highlighted in a off key way that allows its original connotation to transform into something seen as sad or painful; beauty is a recurring theme throughout Weavers poetry that always seems to spring from pain.

Weaver is heartfelt, genuine, honest, and revealing with the moments of clarity that he has uncovered in his world of uncertainty. He is not afraid to open himself up and be vulnerable to potential heartache and ridicule if it means he will become stronger as a man and have a better grasp of his own identity and where he stands in the world. “Except what I know is me, a man who melts, falls apart to be repaired in broken spaces,” (5,6). One continuously stumbles upon feelings of tragedy and loss in Weaver’s prose, but at the same time, one can take away the wonder and bewilderment that he expresses about himself and his place in the world.

In Weaver’s ‘Chinese Theory of Strings’, he doesn’t hesitate to flip his perception of the world upside down and question everything. He skillfully plays on alliteration and onomatopoeia throughout the poem while inventing his own method for assessing what is alive, dead, being and what constitutes as our own identity:“but I must believe all sound is evidence of life.” (7)

“the way a mirror leads us to love the face it shows us/ as we are tempted by our eyes to become what we see,” (7). Mirrors show the limits of our physical embodiment or identity as humans; they show permanence and something that cannot be altered. Mirrors however can be deceptive, and Weaver attributes this deceptive quality to mirrors multiple times. “I am Chinese in the mirror,”(8). Reflections pose as a double entendre in their meaning.

To Weaver, mirrors merely reflect the outer appearance, the external self, the shell of a human being. In no way does it reflect one’s identity, ability, or true self that resides in the core of one’s being. Sometimes this core resides in the heart for Weaver, sometimes it’s in his head or stomach; on many occasions his soul is in his throat;“The way to a scream that jacks open my mouth but holds sound hostage,”(8). Here Weaver shows that he is trapped in his body within the bonds of humanity, seeking a greater purpose and an endless expanse of knowing.

Weaver continuously tests the limits and potential of his own human experience: “I have come here to be what I cannot be,” (8). Weaver will not be limited by what he judges from his own reflection because he is not on a journey where his physical identity matters, he is on a journey to discover his inner being, potential and how much he is willing to sacrifice for his soul. As Weaver has written,“a caterpillar dreams itself beautiful,” (10). Weaver believes he can become the being that he wants to be and abandon the hurt he has felt while in his prior identity.

Weaver amplifies the ways of Taoism in his poetry that result from his heavy exposure to Eastern Culture. He believes that being lost can lead to true discovery: “A place where rain is breath, and summer mist, the gas that lets you dream of being lost.”  Taoism is also characterized by a positive, active attitude toward the occult and the metaphysical (theories on the nature of reality). Weaver has set up for himself a lifetime search for true meaning and purpose and will not only enlighten his soul, but will touch others with his words through his journey. 


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                                                 ABOUT REVIEWER PAIGE SHIPPIE

 I am currently enrolled in the Honors Society and by May 2016, I will graduate from Endicott College with a Bachelor of Arts in English, Creative Writing concentration, and Studio Art Minor. As an artist, my interests span subject matter and I employ various uses of media. As a singer and performance artist, I enjoy being a member of ECHO, or (Endicott College Harmonic Overtones), as well as having a presence in Endicott’s Jazz Band (as a vocalist). As a writer, I compose lyrics for Jazz Band and submit poetry for publication in Endicott's Literary Review Magazine. Since the summer of 2013 I've been working on a sci-fi novel called, The Doppelganger Effect. As a studio artist, I sculpt with copper wire and clay, paint in acrylic, illustrate in pencil, pen, and charcoal and am open to working with just about anything I can get my hands on.

At Masconomet Regional High School, I was a Poetry Out Loud State Finalist and Semi-Finalist, a Movie Festival Screenwriter and Director, a Boston Globe Show Gold Key and Honorable Mention Recipient (in Art), and an actress playing a few lead roles in the Movie Festival.