Hennessey’s High Pasture

The New Quarterly has accepted my short story Hennessey’s High Pasture for publication. It will appear in Issue #97 (due out January 2006).

“Most nights the dogs and I walk up to Hennessey’s high pasture. You can see the whole King’s County from up there. Even when it’s dark you feel it, the earth curving away from you. But I’m not ready yet. I smoke a cigarette. No matter which way I hold it, the smoke blows toward Earl.” J. R. Carpenter, Hennessey’s High Pasture


. . . . .

History Through Poetry

March 3, 2003 marked launch of the anthology 100 Poets Against The War (edited by Todd Swift, Salt Publishing: Cambridge, UK & Applecross, Australia).

The project began with a call for submissions, on January 20, 2003, for poets to contribute to a downloadable electronic chapbook, which was published online on January 27, 2003 to coincide with Hans Blix’s report to the UN on weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. I immediately wrote and contributed a poem called “A Verse to War”. I felt compelled to participate for a few reasons: My father was a Vietnam War draft evader, so I was lucky enough to be born in Canada. My grandfather witnessed the levelling of Manila as a Technical Sergeant in the Pacific Theatre during World War II. Meanwhile, on the other side of the planet, the Nazis made short work of what little of our family was left in Hungary. Both my grandparents watched the World Trade Center collapse from their bedroom window. The smoke stank up their apartment for days.

I can’t remember the exact date that the 100 Poets anthology launched in Montréal, but I do remember that I had been in New York for the two weeks previous attending to my grandmother’s funeral and the distribution of her last effects, mostly books. When she was a child, my grandmother had some of her poems published in the Yiddish newspapers of New York’s Lower East Side. She graduated with a Master’s Degree in English Literature from Hunter College, but wound up teaching junior high school science in Queens for thirty years. She never wanted me to be a writer. Or rather, she never believed that I would become a writer. Which is to say, she never thought I’d make it as a writer. In the last face-to-face conversation I had with her before she died she said: “If it doesn’t work out, I won’t say ‘I told you so’. But if it does work out – well, then I’ll say, ‘My granddaughter, the novelist!’”

I witnessed both pro and anti war protests in progress in many of the small towns that the Greyhound passed through as I traveled home from New York to Montréal the day before reading at the 100 Poets book launch. Two of the more popular placard slogans still stand out in my head: “America is worth fighting for,” and “Another Veteran Against the War.” I couldn’t help thinking: My grandmother would have hated this.

I can’t remember if I ever sent my grandmother a copy of one of the three free downloadable and printable 100 Poets Against the War PDF chapbooks that Todd Swift and Val Stevenson assembled and published on Nthposition.com. If I did it wouldn’t have impressed her much. Her own mother had never bought a single paper that published her Yiddish poems and until I was anthologized in the Rinehart Reader my grandmother wasn’t likely to make a fuss.

Today, approximately two and a half years after the 100 Poets anthology launched in cities around the world, I stumbled across an online article that would have made my grandmother the schoolteacher sit up and take notice.

On a web site called: “Rethinking Schools Online” I found that in their Spring 2003 edition they had published a special collection of resources for teachers called: “Teaching About the War“. In her lesson plan, “Entering History Through Poetry“, Linda Christensen suggested using 100 Poets Against the War as a teaching aide. She wrote: “Opening a topic as volatile as war by getting students to talk about their fears and questions can help teachers understand the extent of student knowledge as well as their positions. … Students should feel comfortable entering a classroom conversation; otherwise, we’re not wrestling with issues; we’re pinning them down and force-feeding them. J. R. Carpenter’s poem “A verse to war” provides an opening for discussion.

Carpenter uses the repeating line “I am afraid,” then lists her fears. I asked students to look at the structure of the poem — the repeating line followed by a list. Then we generated potential lines and students wrote poems using this structure. Abigail, a sophomore in Anderson’s class, wrote about her brother: “I am afraid/of my brother leaving/to serve this country./I am afraid/I will never get the chance/to hug him again…/I am afraid of war.” Ashley, Abigail’s classmate, invented her own line and tied the war to the budget cuts: “I do not know/of war/of suffering/of fear./I do not know how my life will be altered…/I do not know/of destruction/of cold-blooded murder…/I do not know my future/of dreams unbroken/of non-potential/ of miseducation….”

Even though worse than my worst fears have come true for Iraq – and for America, for the two are now inextricably linked – and even though the above article was published over two years ago and I only found out about it today, it moves me immensely to hear that a poem that I wrote “provided an opening for discussion,” and that the 100 Poets project was put to use in this way. This, my grandmother would have loved.

A Verse to War

I am afraid
(of what will happen
of the rhetoric
of the silence
of not knowing).
I am afraid I don’t know what to contribute.

I am afraid
(of destruction
of waiting
of doing nothing
of adding fuel to the flames).
I am afraid I don’t have any answers.

I am afraid
(of trivializing
of propagandizing
of margins
of error).
I am afraid it is but a meagre thing to add –
a verse adverse to war.

Thank you to Todd Swift, Val Stevenson, Salt Publishing and to Vince Tinguely who first sent me the call for submissions. 100 Poets Against the War is still available for download or for purchase online. FOr more information please visit: Nthposition.com/100poets.php
. . . . .

spoken word night

We sat at the back and
talked amongst ourselves
quietly, hard for me since
my voice carries,
while someone on stage
read written spoken word
and someone in the audience
laughed at all the sad parts
so loudly that soon everyone
joined in except us, caught
up in the rhythm of switching
from whisperer to listener
the bill of your hat whacking
my forehead each time
we traded lip for ear.
J. R. Carpenter
. . . . .

Final Trainwreck of a Lost-Mind Summer

An Excerpt From Vince Tinguely’s New Novella:

“Fortunately, I had a rich inner life going on at the time. Richer than most, I’d have to say; so rich that it had begun to rupture the membrane between inner and outer. What’s called ‘losing it’. I was going crazy, and I knew I was going crazy, but I was finding it all so interesting that I had decided to let it happen, let it all hang out, let it breathe – the most pernicious sort of craziness, this, a knowing, clever craziness that operated within its own unique paradigms, that remained aware enough of itself and its inherent difference from the rest of the world to avoid manifesting itself to the point where the rest of the world notices and then takes steps to suppress it. Thanks to this interesting state of affairs, it didn’t much matter where I lived, or where I worked – it was only temporary – I’d soon enough be somewhere else. Where, exactly, wasn’t important. For now, I had some serious living to do.”

Launch party –
Casa Del Popolo, 4873 St-Laurent
Wednesday, August 31, 2005.
8 p.m. (show starts 9 p.m.)

With readings by:

Vince Tinguely
Dana Bath
J. R. Carpenter
Scott Duncan

Plus an exclusive musical performance by The Sally Fields.

$5 at the door (w/o book)
$10 at the door (if you buy a book)

PERFORMERS’ BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION

Dana Bath, originally from Newfoundland, has lived and worked in various places around the world and now calls Montreal home. She’s published a novel (Plenty of Harm in God) and two collections of short stories (What Might Have Been Rain and Universal Recipients.) She teaches English Literature at Vanier College, and is at work on a second novel.

J.R. Carpenter is a visual artist, poet and fiction writer originally from Nova Scotia, now living in Montreal. Her fiction has been published in Carte Blanche, Nth Position, Blood & Aphorisms, Postscript and the Knight Literary Journal. Her short story “Precipice” won the CBC/QWF Quebec Short Story Competition, 2003. Her web art projects have been exhibited internationally and can all be found at http://luckysoap.com.

Scott Duncan is a video artist, performer and writer. He’s pleased as punch to be on the same slate as the Ting.

The Sally Fields is the solo effort of Scott W. Gray, an art-rock / indie-rock songwriter living in Montreal. At turns melancholy and bittersweet, The Sally Fields features hooky vocals and rich guitar work over pre-programmed sounds. www.thesallyfields.com <http://www.thesallyfields.com>

Vincent Tinguely is a Montreal writer and performance poet. He is the co-author (with Victoria Stanton) of Impure ‹ reinventing the word, a book about the Montreal spoken word scene, published by conundrum press in 2001. He writes regularly on spoken word and lit events for the free weekly Montreal Mirror. His latest work is the three chapbook set SEX, POWER, MYTH, launched in January 2005, and the mini-CD Flying Under The Radar, produced by Wired on Words in April 2005.
. . . . .

Saint-Urbain Street Heat

A new poem, “Saint-Urbain Street Heat”, appears in the August edition of Nth Position.

Some of you who have never been to Montréal in the summer don’t believe how hot it gets here. Those you who live here, well, you know. Set on the same block as Saint-Urbain’s Horsemen but more like Balconville only shorter and poetry and contemporary and completely different really, “Saint-Urbain Street Heat” will leave you sweating in your undershirts. Here’s an excerpt:

Alters of clutter,
hanging gardens of sound –
the back balconies buckle
under the weight of
high summer
Saint-Urbain Street heat.

All the kitchen
back doors stand open –
sticky arms flung open –
imploring, a heat-rashed prayer:

Deliver us unto
the many gods
of Mile End.

Read the rest of “Saint-Urbain Street heat” on NthPostion.com

Nth Position is a free online magazine/ezine based in Europe with politics & opinion, travel writing, fiction & poetry, reviews & interviews, and some high weirdness from around the world. Read, subscribe, submit: nthposition.com
. . . . .

Evening

Evening,
above the house
below the eves
of the barnyard in the sky –
Or in the fish house,
rafters looking down –
into the lobster tank
into the late afternoon I could lie –
stomach above the heads
above sea level.

Summer,
to hide in the barn
above suspicion
of the long autumn,
dark corridors
of some distant hillside
House,
to wrestle with transition
from the forest to the orchard
of innumerable plans
all to be plucked
and hung to be dried
In the hot,
old tar attic
of some passing house
of some uncertain history
Of this I think,
in a secret straddle
between childhood and the mind.

The Orchard of Innumerable Plans
. . . . .

Dialects

A new radio show hits the Montreal air waves:

Hosted by Manon Morin & Mahalia Verna, Dialects is a weekly bilingual radio show about the poetry, spoken word, literature and cultural scenes in Montreal. Broadcast on CKUT 90.3 FM.

Catch the next broadcast – Monday, June 27th at 11 am until noon – featuring an interview with me, J. R. Carpenter. I will also read from my novel in progress.

For further information about tuning in to CKUT online or to consult the archives, visit: http://www.ckut.ca/
. . . . .

Carte Blanche – Issue II

Please visit http://www.carte-blanche.org/issues/02/ to see the new issue of QWF’s online juried literary journal for QWF members.

Non-fiction – Sharon Lax, Gina Roitman, Lewis J. Poteet and Brian Zelnicker
Poetry – Elena Johnson, Elise Moser and Kristina Drake
Fiction – Frederick Kraenzel, J. R. Carpenter and Kate Sheckler

Congratulations to Elise Moser for winning the second issue prize!

Quebec Writers’ Federation
English-Language Arts Network
1200 Atwater Ave., Suite 3
Montreal, QC H3Z 1X4

www.qwf.org

. . . . .

Responsa: An Overview

Responsa Literature: partial replies to scattered letters
http://luckysoap.com/responsa/

Introduction: confessions of an avid letter writer

Why is it that everyone I know lives in New York?

Part I: Writing is Hard

“Irene left a note on his kitchen table. The spelling was weak and Irene, examining her note, marvelled at how difficult writing things down was compared to saying them. Saying something was as easy as laughing; writing caused you grief, as though you were mourning somebody who had abandoned you too soon.”
Rose Tremaine, Sacred Country

Part II: Writing from Exile

“Is the place any token of the author?”
“indicat auctorem locus?”
Ovid, EX PONTO, I. VII.

Part III: Responsa

“What conditions precipitate the writing of a letter? A physical distance separates the writer from the reader and we write to cover that distance. Wherever we are, when we write, we write from a local position. Time passes between the writing of the letter and the reading of it; more time passes between the reading and the reply. ‘Between the too warm flesh of the literal event and the cold skin of the concept runs meaning.’ [Derrida] From his exile at the edge of the Empire, Ovid writes: ‘“In so long a time why has not they hand done its duty and completed even a few lines?’ The reply embodies another question. ‘Is not the writing of the question, by it’s decision, by its resolution, the beginning of repose and response?’ [Derrida]”
J. R. Carpenter, Responsa

Part IV: Network Communication

Me: Hey, how come this anonmous ftp thing doesn’t work?

Tech: You spelled anonymous wrong.

Me: Again.

Me: I heard about this thing called pine for reading email.
Do you know about that?

Tech: Yeah.

Me: Well, how do I get it?

Tech: Pine is for weenies.

Me: I’m a weenie.

Tech: vi editor rules.

Me: I want pine.

an escerpt from the essay:
“A brief history of the Internet as I know it so far”
J. R. Carpenter 2003.

Part V: Location, Location, Location

When we write, we write from a local position.

“My dear Herr Kappus: I have left a letter of yours long unanswered, not that I had forgotten it – on the contrary: it was of the kind that one reads again when one finds it among other letters, and I recognized you in it as if you were close at hand. It was the letter of May 2nd, and you doubtless remember it. When I read it, as I do now, in the great stillness of this faraway place, your beautiful concern for life moves me even more than I experienced it in Paris, where everything has a different ring and dies away by reason of the monstrous noise that makes all things tremble. Here, where a vast countryside is around me, over which the winds come in from the seas, here I feel that there is nowhere a human being who can answer you those question and feelings which have a life of their own within their depths; for even the best men go astray with words, where these are to express something very gentle and almost unutterable.”
Rainer Maria Rilke, written from ‘Temporarily at Worpswede near Bremen, July 16th, 1903. Letters to a Young Poet

Part VI: Optimism

“Router level Interconnectivity of the Internet looks like a giant, blood-shot eyeball.” from “Digital Crustaceans v.0.2: Homesteading on the Web” and art review by J. R. Carpenter of a show
Ingrid Bachmann at Gallery Articule, Montréal, Québec, April 4 – May 4 2003.

“Pookie” – a biological, digital, quasi-fictional manifestation of Ingrid Bachmann’s imagination – explores a fascinating corner of the web at www.digitalhermit.ca

In Closing:

“Nothing is more occult than the way letters, under the auspices of unimaginable carriers, circulate through the weird mess of civil wars; but whenever, owing to that mess, there was some break in our correspondence, Tamara would act as if she ranked deliveries with ordinary natural phenomena such as the weather or tides, which human affairs could not affect, and she would accuse me of not answering her, when if fact I did nothing by write to her and think of her during those months – despite my many betrayals.”
Vladimir Nabokov, Speak, Memory

Related Links:

Nomad Web: Sleeping beauty awakes, by Ingrid Bachmann
http://www.research.umbc.edu/~lmoren/nomadweb.htm

the electronic version of The Virtual Community, by Howard Rheingold
http://www.rheingold.com/vc/book/intro.html

A Vernacular Web, by Olia Lialina
http://art.teleportacia.org/observation/vernacular/

A little Talk About Reproduction, by J. R. Carpenter
http://luckysoap.com/reproduction/

All this with pictures:
http://luckysoap.com/responsa/


. . . . .

Cape Cod

My Grandmother Carpenter lived in Cape Cod. The only time we ever went there it was winter, but we walked on the beach anyway.

While we were there I tried to get my uncle to teach me how to make that loud kind of whistle sound that you can make by putting two fingers in your mouth.

My Grandmother Carpenter told us: Young ladies do not put their fingers in their mouths. I asked my uncle to teach me how to spit instead.

Later I learned that The Cape, as they call it, is a narrow spit of land.

I do not have a photograph of my Grandmother Carpenter. If I did, I would insert it here.
. . . . .