Trouble in Paradise
Robert Pinsky has a voice like a deli owner, not a former Poet Laureate.
About three weeks ago, I attended a reading of that other Robert at Haverford (the prep school for boys, not the college) and I was struck by his foreign inflections, the grungy and nasal quality of his voice. He's from L"ahw"ng Branch, New J"oi"sey and he certainly sounds it. (It's so puzzling to me how I can emerge from my lifetime residence in the "armpit of America," as we've been lovingly nicknamed, saying 'coffee' rather than 'cawfay' and pronouncing all my r's while some people-- Pinsky included-- come out with this accent that butchers every long vowel it comes into contact with.)
And while his actual reading left me a bit embarrassed for our shared statehood, his poetry was flawless, seemingly impervious to the influence of his failing phonetics. Even the U.S. Government agrees that his poems are something extraordinary; Pinsky was appointed to the post of Poet Laureate three times in a row, the longest sequential reign of a poet ever. With his title, Pinsky created the Favorite Poem Project (www.favoritepoem.org), in which Americans from all over submitted their favorite published poems to him, along with explanations of what it means to them. He then took the best ones and published them in an anthology. See, Pinsky believed that, contrary to stereotype, poetry does have a strong presence in American culture. The project sought to document that presence, giving voice to the American audience for poetry. A noble idea, no?
Yes. So! Myself and a few other Ursinus kiddies who also attended the reading had the idea to bring the Favorite Poem Project to Collegeville, PA. We reserved the theater, sent out e-mails to the entire campus, and put up flyers. "December 4th, 7:00pm in the Blackbox Theater!" We met once a week to plan, and by the week before the event, we looked to be in good shape. We had about 25 readers signed up, with even more who wanted to read but would not fit into the 2-hour program.
On the day of the event, we decided to meet at 6:15 in the theater to set-up. We plugged in all the mics, checked the sound system, made sure we had back-up copies of the readers' poems (just in case), and waited. At 6:45pm, while sitting around doing nothing particularly productive, out first reader walked shyly in and sat with the rest of us in the front row. 6:47pm, another two readers. 6:50pm, one more. Ten minutes before the event and we only had four readers and no spectators. We began to worry. 6:57pm- our first non-reader shows up, sits in the back because she has to leave at 7:20pm. As the hands of the clock made that familiar acute angle of seven o'clock, our event was looking like a bust. Less than a quarter of the readers showed up and an even more pathetic ratio came out to just watch. We gave everyone ten minutes and then we were starting. But it was pointless; while some more people did show up, the numbers were enough to count on two pairs of hands. The Favorite Poem Project commenced regardless, finishing up in 38 minutes.
It is a mark of humanity to try to understand why bad things happen. People die and we curse whatever man in the sky we believe in with, "Why him? Why her?" We get sick or we hurt ourselves and it's, "Why me?" As humans, we have a deadly curiosity. And though the failure of the Favorite Poem Project was not quite on the same level as death, sickness, or injury, I still had to ask myself why such a thing happened. Didn't Robert Pinsky say that poetry really does have a part in American culture? Didn't he make three volumes of the favorite poems of regular Americans? So what happened at Ursinus? Why didn't we, a liberal college campus, get floods of people coming to hear favorite poems?
Well, it could be that it's the last two weeks of school (as the other members of the organizational group told themselves) but I just don't buy that. Finals aren't for another week, I'm sure the average Ursinus student could have found time in their schedule to come. Truly and honestly, I believe that no one came because no one cares about anything on this campus other than Bio (it's a hugely intense Biology school) and getting as much alcohol into their systems as they can handle... and sometimes can't handle. Don't get me wrong, I love Ursinus and I am having a wonderful time, but I'm just astonished by the apathy of some students (and professors) here.
It's not just that no one came to our poetry reading, I find apathy in the classroom as well. Kids telling me how they don't ever read for class, how they don't care about what they write for essays, and they are still doing reasonably well! I mean, sure I know that I am a slacker-extraordinaire, but this is college! You shouldn't be able to pull off the same bullshit you did in high school! Since I've been here, I've worked hard, I've read for class, and I've put hours of preparation into every essay I've written. I care about this shit. I'm an English major for Christ sakes! And yet I feel like all around me, expectations are low and people are getting away with doing just about nothing. I just don't feel challenged by the academics here.
And not only that, but this campus has absolutely no culture! I try to make literary jokes and they fall on ignorant ears, I reference something every human should have read and no one catches it. I feel like I'm the only one who's ever read a book for pleasure in this place. The music scene is Soulja Boi and Jay-Z, artistic pursuits are nil (even though we have one of the best art museums in PA right on our campus), and I feel like no one here has any passion. I know I'm sounding really high and mighty right now, but, please believe me, there are very, very few people here who have a level of culture that I've taken for granted.
I don't know what to do about it. Should I transfer? No, I'm happy here, I have great friends and the college has an extraordinary creative writing program. Should I let it go? I don't think I can. But I don't know what to do to change it. I'm just getting more and more frustrated by the student body here, the apathy, the ignorance. I mean I should not be the only one in my Spanish class who can piece together a coherent sentence (especially when that class is filled with upperclassmen), I should not be the only one who can define "iambic pentameter" in creative writing! Again, sorry for being self-aggrandizing here, but I'm tired of being the best one in all my classes! I've always seen myself as an intelligent person, but an average student, certainly not one at the top of my class. But I keep looking around at the sleep-glazed eyes, the blank, uncaring faces of the kids in my classes and I think to myself, "Did I make the right decision?"
About three weeks ago, I attended a reading of that other Robert at Haverford (the prep school for boys, not the college) and I was struck by his foreign inflections, the grungy and nasal quality of his voice. He's from L"ahw"ng Branch, New J"oi"sey and he certainly sounds it. (It's so puzzling to me how I can emerge from my lifetime residence in the "armpit of America," as we've been lovingly nicknamed, saying 'coffee' rather than 'cawfay' and pronouncing all my r's while some people-- Pinsky included-- come out with this accent that butchers every long vowel it comes into contact with.)
And while his actual reading left me a bit embarrassed for our shared statehood, his poetry was flawless, seemingly impervious to the influence of his failing phonetics. Even the U.S. Government agrees that his poems are something extraordinary; Pinsky was appointed to the post of Poet Laureate three times in a row, the longest sequential reign of a poet ever. With his title, Pinsky created the Favorite Poem Project (www.favoritepoem.org), in which Americans from all over submitted their favorite published poems to him, along with explanations of what it means to them. He then took the best ones and published them in an anthology. See, Pinsky believed that, contrary to stereotype, poetry does have a strong presence in American culture. The project sought to document that presence, giving voice to the American audience for poetry. A noble idea, no?
Yes. So! Myself and a few other Ursinus kiddies who also attended the reading had the idea to bring the Favorite Poem Project to Collegeville, PA. We reserved the theater, sent out e-mails to the entire campus, and put up flyers. "December 4th, 7:00pm in the Blackbox Theater!" We met once a week to plan, and by the week before the event, we looked to be in good shape. We had about 25 readers signed up, with even more who wanted to read but would not fit into the 2-hour program.
On the day of the event, we decided to meet at 6:15 in the theater to set-up. We plugged in all the mics, checked the sound system, made sure we had back-up copies of the readers' poems (just in case), and waited. At 6:45pm, while sitting around doing nothing particularly productive, out first reader walked shyly in and sat with the rest of us in the front row. 6:47pm, another two readers. 6:50pm, one more. Ten minutes before the event and we only had four readers and no spectators. We began to worry. 6:57pm- our first non-reader shows up, sits in the back because she has to leave at 7:20pm. As the hands of the clock made that familiar acute angle of seven o'clock, our event was looking like a bust. Less than a quarter of the readers showed up and an even more pathetic ratio came out to just watch. We gave everyone ten minutes and then we were starting. But it was pointless; while some more people did show up, the numbers were enough to count on two pairs of hands. The Favorite Poem Project commenced regardless, finishing up in 38 minutes.
It is a mark of humanity to try to understand why bad things happen. People die and we curse whatever man in the sky we believe in with, "Why him? Why her?" We get sick or we hurt ourselves and it's, "Why me?" As humans, we have a deadly curiosity. And though the failure of the Favorite Poem Project was not quite on the same level as death, sickness, or injury, I still had to ask myself why such a thing happened. Didn't Robert Pinsky say that poetry really does have a part in American culture? Didn't he make three volumes of the favorite poems of regular Americans? So what happened at Ursinus? Why didn't we, a liberal college campus, get floods of people coming to hear favorite poems?
Well, it could be that it's the last two weeks of school (as the other members of the organizational group told themselves) but I just don't buy that. Finals aren't for another week, I'm sure the average Ursinus student could have found time in their schedule to come. Truly and honestly, I believe that no one came because no one cares about anything on this campus other than Bio (it's a hugely intense Biology school) and getting as much alcohol into their systems as they can handle... and sometimes can't handle. Don't get me wrong, I love Ursinus and I am having a wonderful time, but I'm just astonished by the apathy of some students (and professors) here.
It's not just that no one came to our poetry reading, I find apathy in the classroom as well. Kids telling me how they don't ever read for class, how they don't care about what they write for essays, and they are still doing reasonably well! I mean, sure I know that I am a slacker-extraordinaire, but this is college! You shouldn't be able to pull off the same bullshit you did in high school! Since I've been here, I've worked hard, I've read for class, and I've put hours of preparation into every essay I've written. I care about this shit. I'm an English major for Christ sakes! And yet I feel like all around me, expectations are low and people are getting away with doing just about nothing. I just don't feel challenged by the academics here.
And not only that, but this campus has absolutely no culture! I try to make literary jokes and they fall on ignorant ears, I reference something every human should have read and no one catches it. I feel like I'm the only one who's ever read a book for pleasure in this place. The music scene is Soulja Boi and Jay-Z, artistic pursuits are nil (even though we have one of the best art museums in PA right on our campus), and I feel like no one here has any passion. I know I'm sounding really high and mighty right now, but, please believe me, there are very, very few people here who have a level of culture that I've taken for granted.
I don't know what to do about it. Should I transfer? No, I'm happy here, I have great friends and the college has an extraordinary creative writing program. Should I let it go? I don't think I can. But I don't know what to do to change it. I'm just getting more and more frustrated by the student body here, the apathy, the ignorance. I mean I should not be the only one in my Spanish class who can piece together a coherent sentence (especially when that class is filled with upperclassmen), I should not be the only one who can define "iambic pentameter" in creative writing! Again, sorry for being self-aggrandizing here, but I'm tired of being the best one in all my classes! I've always seen myself as an intelligent person, but an average student, certainly not one at the top of my class. But I keep looking around at the sleep-glazed eyes, the blank, uncaring faces of the kids in my classes and I think to myself, "Did I make the right decision?"