Wisława Szymborska, in memoriam

If asked to name my ten favorite poets, one for each finger, Wisława Szymborska would surely rank somewhere on the first hand. She died last week, at the age of 88. I had been away from online and, because of the stupid American election circus, avoiding the news as much as possible. A friend alerted me the day after that Ms. Szymborska had died. Adam Gopnik posted a marvelous tribute to her in the New Yorker's blog (http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/culture/2012/02/wislawa-szymborska-the-happiness-of-wisdom-felt.html#ixzz1lMMHBV9H). I hope you'll read it.

In my own tribute to her on my blog: (http://thestockholmshelf.com/2012/02/joy-so-what-if-its-fleeting-wislawa-szymborska-in-memoriam/), I began with a passage from her Nobel lecture, in which she addresses the poet of Ecclesiastes, challenging him on his assertion that there is "nothing new under the sun." There was no space to include the words which followed, the lecture's conclusion, words which, it seems to me, capture the essence of her world view. They show, better than anything I could say, why I adore her. I hope it isn't an imposition to quote them at some length here:

"The world - whatever we might think when terrified by its vastness and our own impotence, or embittered by its indifference to individual suffering, of people, animals, and perhaps even plants, for why are we so sure that plants feel no pain; whatever we might think of its expanses pierced by the rays of stars surrounded by planets we've just begun to discover, planets already dead? still dead? we just don't know; whatever we might think of this measureless theater to which we've got reserved tickets, but tickets whose lifespan is laughably short, bounded as it is by two arbitrary dates; whatever else we might think of this world - it is astonishing.

"But "astonishing" is an epithet concealing a logical trap. We're astonished, after all, by things that deviate from some well-known and universally acknowledged norm, from an obviousness we've grown accustomed to. Now the point is, there is no such obvious world. Our astonishment exists per se and isn't based on comparison with something else.

"Granted, in daily speech, where we don't stop to consider every word, we all use phrases like "the ordinary world," "ordinary life," "the ordinary course of events" ... But in the language of poetry, where every word is weighed, nothing is usual or normal. Not a single stone and not a single cloud above it. Not a single day and not a single night after it. And above all, not a single existence, not anyone's existence in this world.

"It looks like poets will always have their work cut out for them."

I'm definitely with you on this David. Szymborska would probably fit in my top five as well.

Is there a particular poem of her's that you love? Here's that gives me pleasure every time I read it, in part because it articulates a feeling with which I am myself well acquainted:

FOUR IN THE MORNING

The hour from night to day.
The hour from side to side.
The hour for those past thirty.

The hour swept clean to the crowing of cocks.
The hour when earth betrays us.
The hour when wind blows from extinguished stars.
The hour of and-what-if-nothing-remains-after-us.

The hollow hour.
Blank, empty.
The very pit of all other hours.

No one feels good at four in the morning.
If ants feel good at four in the morning
- three cheers for the ants. And let five o'clock come
if we're to go on living.

#3--There was one she wrote in the aftermath of the planes crashing into the WTC.

I'm not a person who memorizes poems though phrases or bits and pieces might stick with me for a while. I look at the poetry I do have more in terms of a particular book not a particular poem in the collection.

Of Polish poets I really would put her second behind Zbigniew Herbert. They both came out of the same time frame. If I had to pick one poet though it would be Nicanor Parra who's approaching 100 if he hasn't got there already.

It's surprising to me though that no one else seems to have picked up on this thread. She was one of the most deserving of Nobel laureates IMO.

PHOTOGRAPH FROM SEPTEMBER 11TH

They jumped from the burning floors— 

one, two, a few more, 

higher, lower.



The photograph halted them in life, 

and now keeps them

above the earth toward the earth.



Each is still complete, 

with a particular face 

and blood well hidden. 



There’s enough time

for hair to come loose,

for keys and coins 

to fall from pockets. 



They’re still within the air’s reach,

within the compass of places

that have just now opened.

 I can do only two things for them—

describe this flight

and not add a last line.

A wrenching poem. Rather amazing how she achieves such formidable impact with such economy. In my tribute to her, I quote from a wonderful essay about this poem by American poet Mark Doty. Here's a link to the essay, in case you're interested:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/article/178617

I too adore Zbigniew Herbert. His series of poems featuring Mr. Cogito especially. What a pleasure to find someone else who knows his work.

I just looked up Nicanor Parra, a name with which I had not been familiar. Chilean poet, born in 1914. I look forward to acquainting myself with him. Thanks for mentioning him.

Parra actually can be quite acerbic--sometimes LOL funny. Almost always irreverent. He's quite good at weaving an exasperated tone in and out of his work. For Roberto Bolano who started out as a poet--Nicanor was his literary hero. If I may suggest Emergency poems and Antipoems: New and selected both New Directions books are the best place to start. Two short ones:

The Cross

Sooner or later I shall come weeping
to the open arms of the cross.

Sooner than later I shall fall
on my knees at the foot of the cross.

I have to restrain myself
from betrothing the cross:
See! how she holds out her arms to me?

It will not be today
nor tomorrow
nor the day
after tomorrow
but it will be as it must be.

For the time being the cross is an airplane
a woman with her legs open.

Warnings

No praying allowed, no sneezing.
No spitting, eulogizing, kneeling
Worshipping, howling, expectorating.

No sleeping permitted in this precinct
No innoculating, talking, excommunicating
Harmonizing, escaping, catching.

Running is absolutely forbidden.

No smoking. No fucking.

So, I'm just discovering her, Wisława Szymborska.
Thank you, Davidattheshelf, for posting your tribute and starting the discussion - or it would have been that much longer til I came across her.

Hello SaintSunniva

I'm so glad you are getting acquainted with Szymborska. I'd love to know how you are finding her, your thoughts, impressions.

20th century Polish poetry is a rich field indeed. Szymborska was one of three poets, now all deceased, who were fairly widely known in English translation, all of them unqualified in their greatness: Zbigniew Herbert (mentioned above. Oh god! Is he ever fantastic. If you aren't acquainted with him, let him be your next discovery), and Czeslaw Milosz, who won the Nobel in 1980, and has long been a favorite of mine as well. are the other two. Less well known but very much in their company is Tadeusz Różewicz. Also, among the poets I've discovered recently and love very much is Julia Hartwig. Milosz himself referred to her as the "grande dame of Polish poetry."

If you have some time to waste, check out my blog, The Stockholm Shelf (thestockholmshelf.com), where you'll find some posts on Milosz and Szymborska. You may find something of interest there.

And please, call me David. Davidattheshelf is a silly construction I had to come up with to sign on to this site.

Coming upon this conversation so much later - Szymborska is my absolute favourite. I remember hearing her work for the first time - her poem about war, which felt like an arrow through the heart.
Thank you all for your suggestions of other poets to read, shall be following them up, though I can't imagine better than Szymborska, except maybe the Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai, who died in 2001. He too writes about war.

Hello michalsuz. I so rarely check this discussion group because responses to conversation feeds is so rare. I was delighted by your comment as I, too, an a Szymborska idolator, as well as a huge fan of Yehuda Amichai. What a great poet. As you may have gathered from previous comments, I have a blog called "The Stockholm Shelf" in which I write about Nobel laureates in literature. I have long wished to write a post on Amichai, about how ludicrous it is that he never won.

You wrote that you remember hearing her work for the first time - one of her poems about war. Say more! In what context did you first hear her work? Which poem?

If you're so inclined, I hope you'll check out my tribute to her. Here's the link:

http://thestockholmshelf.com/2012/02/joy-so-what-if-its-fleeting-wislawa-szymbor...

I hope to hear more from you.

I'm back!
My son (18yo) asked me if I had A.D.D. today when I did a classic A.D.D. thing and he saw it. Ha.
I probably do, but who cares. Except that it means I have forgotten completely about this interesting conversation, and then somehow - found it again.

Glad your back, SaintSunniva. A year ago, you spoke of just having discovered Szymborska. I wonder if your acquaintance with her poetry has expanded. I wonder how you find her. Do you have a favorite poem?

David, I borrowed a bunch of books-well, three-of hers from the library last week...and then got overwhelmed with the rest of my life, and have barely dipped into them.

Dinosaurs caught my eye...except that now that I'm looking for it, I can't find it.
I also am intending to read "nonrequired reading: prose pieces" by her.

What's one of your favorites?

I was introduced to her by hearing a lecture by Maxine Hong Kingston on Youtube where she (MHK) read this poem about war.
I have visited your site on the Nobels and read your tribute to Szymnborska - enjoyed it, thank you!