Youmans (pronounced like 'yeoman' with an 's' added) is the best-kept secret
among contemporary American writers. --John Wilson, editor, Books and Culture Marly Youmans is a novelist and poet out of sync with the times
but in tune with the ages. --First Things

Tuesday, April 02, 2013

Morning after foolishness

Clive Hicks-Jenkins decoration for Thaliad
It's the day after April Fool's Day, and I am just the same size of fool as I was yesterday! I may even be a little bigger, given all those Easter basket chocolates. I find these things slightly disappointing but no surprise... Quite impossible to pack all one's foolishness into a single day, after all.

The foolishness of April 1st is compounded by the thought that the date marks the beginning of the absurd, hopeful thing, Poetry Month. I have been writing a lot of poems lately, but I almost feeling like not writing any at all in April because of this terrible bone of charity, the once-yearly reminder of an art most people think already dead. Never mind. Art is the phoenix that returns burning from the grave, whether anybody notices or not.

In fact, art is that strange creature that is always re-inventing itself, starting from nothingness. Every book of energy, every painting of life has to be started by somebody who does not know how to make what needs to be made.

In the realm of absurdity, the sky snowed on the snowdrops yesterday, and it is snowing on them today, though the sparrows and juncos and mourning doves are hunched on the ground under the feeder or combing the air from rose canes to hemlocks. One dove chases another on foot under the roses, heads bobbing, but it's far too bitter for springing love on one's mate.

I must hie me to taxes once again (alas!), so I just shrug and wave and go on.

Meeting me elsewhere: excerpts from 2012 books (A Death at the White Camellia OrphanageThaliadThe Foliate Head) at ScribdThaliad at Phoenicia Publishing. See page tabs above for review clips and information on those brand new books plus The Throne of Psyche from 2011, and more.

4 comments:

  1. "In fact, art is that strange creature that is always re-inventing itself, starting from nothingness. Every book of energy, every painting of life has to be started by somebody who does not know how to make what needs to be made."

    If I thought I loved you before, I had no idea how much I would love you today. Thank you for writing this. It's a lifeline.

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  2. Ah, thank you, Laura! I saw you posted it on facebook...
    Hasn't been up long, but I've already gotten several notes from painters.

    And now I'm going off to lunch with another painter friend...

    Good cheer,
    Marly

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  3. Marly,
    Glad to hear writing is going well and I hope the taxes are soon behind you.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Thought I was done but they're proving a bit difficult.

    ReplyDelete

Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.