Victor D. Infante's Blog, page 163
August 10, 2013
Gone Fishing
Lea and I are running away to the Cape for a few days. We'll be back around mid-week, but then we'll be in and out of Cambridge to catch some of the National Poetry Slam Finals, or at least see people on the side. So we'll not be particularly available for the next week or so.
If you need to reach us, my email and/or cell phone is the best course of action, but in my experience, I have very limited reception when I'm on the Cape, so please be patient if it takes me a little while to get back to you.
Plenty of work to do when I get back, including work on the next round of Radius .
In the meantime, I'm looking forward to doing as close to nothing as possible for a spell.
See you in a week!
If you need to reach us, my email and/or cell phone is the best course of action, but in my experience, I have very limited reception when I'm on the Cape, so please be patient if it takes me a little while to get back to you.
Plenty of work to do when I get back, including work on the next round of Radius .
In the meantime, I'm looking forward to doing as close to nothing as possible for a spell.
See you in a week!
July 26, 2013
Outtake from "Why We Should Suffer for This"
I used to hate that Roger Daltrey song, “After the Fire.” Well, maybe hate is a strong word, but I couldn’t rectify it with great Who songs like “My Generation.” Hope I die before I get old. It kind of pisses me off that I totally get it now.
July 18, 2013
Writing About Love: Notes Toward 'Why We Should Suffer For This'
This has been a demanding week. Between the oppressive heat (my office feels like an oven right now) and demands at work (we're going live with a new layout/content management program. Which I rather like in theory and kind of hate in practice, at least until my learning curve catches up), I've not had much time to write, or even to get out and read. The latter's a shame, because I'm rather committed to debuting sections of my longer work in progress, Why We Should Suffer for This, at the Outlaw Stage. One of the goals of the Outlaw Stage is for it to be a place to try out new work, and while going in and reading long passages of fiction/poetic prose might sound out of place amid the music and performance art, I found it to be a good fit. Will endeavor to get back as often as I can.
Back when I was in college, one of the college librarians read a small stack of my poems and said, "You write rather well about, love, don't you? You seem to really understand it." I was flattered, as the compliment sounded even better in an English accent (they always do, don't they?) but the fact is, I didn't. What I was writing about in college was loneliness. It was the sort of love a young person writes about ... which is to say, the conception of love expressed by a person who doesn't know shit about love. When I was in my late teens/early 20s, I wrote prettily about love, but I wrote about it like it was a distant object, a Grecian urn in a museum.
To tell the truth, I think love (and its usual corollary, sex) is among the most difficult topics for me to write about. Most of the time, it falls into that place most writers have, the area of their selves they shield from outside view, the small piece they keep for themselves. Writing about love (and sex) makes me feel extremely vulnerable, almost embarrassed. And yet, as I've paraphrased my good friend Amélie Frank saying numerous time, a writer needs to aim for the things that scare them.
Suffer is all about love, and marriage, and how a person becomes someone who can love. And how sometimes being that person's not enough. I opted to approach it as fiction, to give myself that breathing room I needed to overcome my own weaknesses. Will it work? Beats me. So far, the reaction's been good, but I'm only maybe a third of the way through. It's been slow, hard writing. The first chunk is all about teen romance, and how for most, whatever the mythology, it's mostly an exercise in terror and guilt, punctuated by moments of bliss. The next part is largely about the wreckage of young adulthood. I'm still feeling that part out, trying to sort out that chaos. (And that time was definitely chaos for me.)
Writing this has been an interesting experience. It's re-enforced in my mind that I've only ever truly been in love with one person, and that's my wife. And it's forced me to re-evaluate the road I took getting to that place, and to admit there have been other women I could have loved along the way, had the circumstances been different, or had I allowed myself. The book is not my story, but the emotional content is real, and that's a level of vulnerability that I'm unaccustomed to, even though I've been fairly fearless for years writing about other sorts of wounds, many considerably more painful.
I think writing this thing is proving good for me, and I think the commitment to reading it at the Outlaw Stage has been a real prod to keep me moving forward. Even if it all falls apart in the end, it's been instructive.
Now if only we could do something about the goddamned heat ....
Back when I was in college, one of the college librarians read a small stack of my poems and said, "You write rather well about, love, don't you? You seem to really understand it." I was flattered, as the compliment sounded even better in an English accent (they always do, don't they?) but the fact is, I didn't. What I was writing about in college was loneliness. It was the sort of love a young person writes about ... which is to say, the conception of love expressed by a person who doesn't know shit about love. When I was in my late teens/early 20s, I wrote prettily about love, but I wrote about it like it was a distant object, a Grecian urn in a museum.
To tell the truth, I think love (and its usual corollary, sex) is among the most difficult topics for me to write about. Most of the time, it falls into that place most writers have, the area of their selves they shield from outside view, the small piece they keep for themselves. Writing about love (and sex) makes me feel extremely vulnerable, almost embarrassed. And yet, as I've paraphrased my good friend Amélie Frank saying numerous time, a writer needs to aim for the things that scare them.
Suffer is all about love, and marriage, and how a person becomes someone who can love. And how sometimes being that person's not enough. I opted to approach it as fiction, to give myself that breathing room I needed to overcome my own weaknesses. Will it work? Beats me. So far, the reaction's been good, but I'm only maybe a third of the way through. It's been slow, hard writing. The first chunk is all about teen romance, and how for most, whatever the mythology, it's mostly an exercise in terror and guilt, punctuated by moments of bliss. The next part is largely about the wreckage of young adulthood. I'm still feeling that part out, trying to sort out that chaos. (And that time was definitely chaos for me.)
Writing this has been an interesting experience. It's re-enforced in my mind that I've only ever truly been in love with one person, and that's my wife. And it's forced me to re-evaluate the road I took getting to that place, and to admit there have been other women I could have loved along the way, had the circumstances been different, or had I allowed myself. The book is not my story, but the emotional content is real, and that's a level of vulnerability that I'm unaccustomed to, even though I've been fairly fearless for years writing about other sorts of wounds, many considerably more painful.
I think writing this thing is proving good for me, and I think the commitment to reading it at the Outlaw Stage has been a real prod to keep me moving forward. Even if it all falls apart in the end, it's been instructive.
Now if only we could do something about the goddamned heat ....
July 16, 2013
The Confessional Is OPEN!
Been a while since I've done this, so here's how this works:
I've set this post to screen ALL comments. I will not unscreen those comments, nor will I respond to them. That said, you are welcome to post anonymously, if you want.
I will not reprint anything here elsewhere, but I MAY use material here as inspiration for a poem or work of fiction, with all the serial numbers filed off, of course. (The reason I do this is to help shake things loose for poems, so please forgive a LITTLE poetic license/thievery.)
Today's question:
Tell me something you want to say to someone, but can't.
I've set this post to screen ALL comments. I will not unscreen those comments, nor will I respond to them. That said, you are welcome to post anonymously, if you want.
I will not reprint anything here elsewhere, but I MAY use material here as inspiration for a poem or work of fiction, with all the serial numbers filed off, of course. (The reason I do this is to help shake things loose for poems, so please forgive a LITTLE poetic license/thievery.)
Today's question:
Tell me something you want to say to someone, but can't.
July 14, 2013
While I'm On the Subject
My poem for Trayvon Martin, Fashion, is up now on New Verse News. I'm terribly honored that they put it up so quickly.
Along the same lines, I want to urge anyone who hasn't read Danez Smith's Hurt: Suite for Trayvon and too many more, which we published on Radius a while back.
Along the same lines, I want to urge anyone who hasn't read Danez Smith's Hurt: Suite for Trayvon and too many more, which we published on Radius a while back.
On Condoning the Murder of Innocent Teenagers
I lived briefly in Florida when I was a child, and quickly came to the conclusion that it is an awful place run by awful people. I despise it more than I despise anywhere else I've ever been, and yes, I've been to Texas, the Deep South and the Middle East (all places I've found things to love and admire, actually.) There is something seriously broken in Florida, and the George Zimmerman verdict and the ridiculous application of the Stand Your Ground Law is just the latest manifestation. That isn't to say that this miscarriage of justice couldn't happen anywhere, just noting that I have a distinct disdain for Florida.
Don't get me wrong: I understand how difficult it is to reach a guilty verdict in a murder trial. In the few primary documents I've seen regarding my father's murder, it's clear that the charge was dropped to 2nd degree murder because of the murkiness of the circumstances. Thus, I didn't blink when the manslaughter charge was introduced as a possibility. Giving Zimmerman every benefit of the doubt -- and Lord knows he didn't give Trayvon Martin that -- and assuming everything went down the way the defense said it then, then manslaughter would be a completely appropriate charge.
But "not guilty." No. No, I'm sorry. No matter how broadly the state's idiotic Stand Your Ground law is interpreted, that is among the biggest miscarriages of justice I can recall.
Here are the undisputed facts: George Zimmerman saw a "suspicious looking person" and called 911. 911 told him they didn't need him to follow the boy, which any reasonable person would have interpreted as a polite "stay out of the way." Zimmerman, armed, disregarded that suggestion and followed the unarmed teenage boy, whom he was larger than. The teenage boy had done nothing wrong. He was simply walking from the convenience store, where he bought Skittles and Snapple, to his father's home.
Here's the only ambiguity: either the boy, realizing he's being stalked, confronted his stalker or Zimmerman confronted the boy. Neither cast Zimmerman in a good light.
Back to facts no one is disputing: They fought. The unarmed boy defeated the large man stalking him. The large man -- either out of malice or panic -- pulled out his gun and shot the teenage boy.
There are enough subtleties to merit the manslaughter charge, but not guilty? What are we to conclude from this verdict? That it's perfectly acceptable to stalk and kill teenagers in the state of Florida? Or is it only black teenagers that can be legally hunted in that awful place? And what about the other 20-something states that have similar laws? Can you legally hunt and kill teenagers and/or persons of color in them? Having established this precedent, it seems only right that state governments clarify which people we can and can't stalk and kill. Because judging from some of the comments on news articles, there are a lot of sick people out there who've obviously been waiting a long time for this moment.
I'm being facetious, but this is a travesty on every level, and a black mark on our entire democracy and justice system. It's been a long time since I've felt this ashamed for my country.
Edited to correct small factual discrepancies and clarify bias.
Don't get me wrong: I understand how difficult it is to reach a guilty verdict in a murder trial. In the few primary documents I've seen regarding my father's murder, it's clear that the charge was dropped to 2nd degree murder because of the murkiness of the circumstances. Thus, I didn't blink when the manslaughter charge was introduced as a possibility. Giving Zimmerman every benefit of the doubt -- and Lord knows he didn't give Trayvon Martin that -- and assuming everything went down the way the defense said it then, then manslaughter would be a completely appropriate charge.
But "not guilty." No. No, I'm sorry. No matter how broadly the state's idiotic Stand Your Ground law is interpreted, that is among the biggest miscarriages of justice I can recall.
Here are the undisputed facts: George Zimmerman saw a "suspicious looking person" and called 911. 911 told him they didn't need him to follow the boy, which any reasonable person would have interpreted as a polite "stay out of the way." Zimmerman, armed, disregarded that suggestion and followed the unarmed teenage boy, whom he was larger than. The teenage boy had done nothing wrong. He was simply walking from the convenience store, where he bought Skittles and Snapple, to his father's home.
Here's the only ambiguity: either the boy, realizing he's being stalked, confronted his stalker or Zimmerman confronted the boy. Neither cast Zimmerman in a good light.
Back to facts no one is disputing: They fought. The unarmed boy defeated the large man stalking him. The large man -- either out of malice or panic -- pulled out his gun and shot the teenage boy.
There are enough subtleties to merit the manslaughter charge, but not guilty? What are we to conclude from this verdict? That it's perfectly acceptable to stalk and kill teenagers in the state of Florida? Or is it only black teenagers that can be legally hunted in that awful place? And what about the other 20-something states that have similar laws? Can you legally hunt and kill teenagers and/or persons of color in them? Having established this precedent, it seems only right that state governments clarify which people we can and can't stalk and kill. Because judging from some of the comments on news articles, there are a lot of sick people out there who've obviously been waiting a long time for this moment.
I'm being facetious, but this is a travesty on every level, and a black mark on our entire democracy and justice system. It's been a long time since I've felt this ashamed for my country.
Edited to correct small factual discrepancies and clarify bias.
July 5, 2013
Index of Poems & Essays in the 'Radius' Bullying Series (And A Few Words of Thanks)
First off, I just want to say thank you to everyone who chimed in on the Radius special series
Art, Bullying and Culture
. We knew it was a big topic, going in, and once we were actually in the topic, it turned out to be even bigger than we thought. We can only claim to have scratched the surface, but still ... there's more to do, and more to say, and as we pointed out a couple times along the way, more to listen to. Especially when we're dealing with kids, taking that time to listen can make all the difference. Taking that time to listen could save a life.
Secondly, thank you to all of our contributors, even those whose work we couldn't use. I was flabbergasted by your honesty, your courage and your daring in discussing both your traumas and complicity. Particular thanks to Dain Michael Down, whose own work on this subject inspired my own interest, and whose assistance was invaluable. Lastly, a big thank you to musician Amanda Palmer and her management team, who gave Radius permission to use as much material from her blog and its comments section as we needed. In the end, we used a drop in the ocean, but the discussion on the subject that sprawls across her blog, referenced in my second essay, is truly staggering in its honesty. As artists, many of us want to evangelize and educate, but sometimes giving others the permission to speak is the most important thing you can do, especially when the circumstances are as dire as these are.
If you need to catch up, here's an index of the series:
* Strange World: Why ‘Radius’ Will be Examining the Topic of ‘Bullying’ by Victor D. Infante
* On the Turning Away: Introduction to ‘Seeing the Unseen’ by Dain Michael Down
* Bullyface by Billy Tuggle
* Resurrecting Ophelia by Emily George
* Like Me by Hakim Bellamy
* How We Survive: Pop Songs, Poetry and What Falls Through the Cracks by Victor D. Infante
* A Father’s Instructions on Survival By Colin Gilbert
* The Blood I Can Draw By Tony Brown
*Resident Room# 216, Interview, Family Values and Afterwards: at the dinner table by Jacqueline Morrill
* My Part in the Musical by Daniel McGinn
* The Better to Bite You With, My Dear by Tara Brenner
* Bully by Jason Henry Simon-Bierenbaum
Again, thank you to everyone who contributed, who read, and who listened. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Secondly, thank you to all of our contributors, even those whose work we couldn't use. I was flabbergasted by your honesty, your courage and your daring in discussing both your traumas and complicity. Particular thanks to Dain Michael Down, whose own work on this subject inspired my own interest, and whose assistance was invaluable. Lastly, a big thank you to musician Amanda Palmer and her management team, who gave Radius permission to use as much material from her blog and its comments section as we needed. In the end, we used a drop in the ocean, but the discussion on the subject that sprawls across her blog, referenced in my second essay, is truly staggering in its honesty. As artists, many of us want to evangelize and educate, but sometimes giving others the permission to speak is the most important thing you can do, especially when the circumstances are as dire as these are.
If you need to catch up, here's an index of the series:
* Strange World: Why ‘Radius’ Will be Examining the Topic of ‘Bullying’ by Victor D. Infante
* On the Turning Away: Introduction to ‘Seeing the Unseen’ by Dain Michael Down
* Bullyface by Billy Tuggle
* Resurrecting Ophelia by Emily George
* Like Me by Hakim Bellamy
* How We Survive: Pop Songs, Poetry and What Falls Through the Cracks by Victor D. Infante
* A Father’s Instructions on Survival By Colin Gilbert
* The Blood I Can Draw By Tony Brown
*Resident Room# 216, Interview, Family Values and Afterwards: at the dinner table by Jacqueline Morrill
* My Part in the Musical by Daniel McGinn
* The Better to Bite You With, My Dear by Tara Brenner
* Bully by Jason Henry Simon-Bierenbaum
Again, thank you to everyone who contributed, who read, and who listened. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
June 22, 2013
13
Thirteen years ago on Sunday, I married the most incredible woman I've ever met. We celebrated today with a lovely dinner at The People's Kitchen, and are now settling in for an evening at home.
(We would have celebrated on our actual anniversary, but the restaurant isn't open on Sundays, and anyway, we want to catch Matthew Gallant and Paula Lambert at the Poets' Asylum.)
So anyway, here's to 13 incredible, madcap and all-around marvelous years. Looking forward to the next 13.
(We would have celebrated on our actual anniversary, but the restaurant isn't open on Sundays, and anyway, we want to catch Matthew Gallant and Paula Lambert at the Poets' Asylum.)
So anyway, here's to 13 incredible, madcap and all-around marvelous years. Looking forward to the next 13.
June 21, 2013
An open offer to any mainstream magazine editors out there
I am tired of responding for free to know-nothing, hackneyed "Death of Poetry" articles and essays, such as the one currently in Harper's, from writers who know nothing about poetry and somehow presume that means that it doesn't exist. (Much as how the GOP regards most science.) However, if someone wants to pay me a decent amount for an essay that reviews and counters a decade of this idiocy, then please, drop me a line backchannel. These articles are only published to stir up a hornet's nest, and if I'm gonna play that game, I want to get paid.
Life According to Wellbutrin
I have to say, Wellbutrin doesn't suck so far.
I was prescribed the drug in an effort to begin unraveling a knot of health problems -- lethargy, weight gain, the effects of allergies, smoking and depression -- and so far it's working pretty well. I've had to revert to using my older belts, because the new ones are too big. I'm down to three cigarettes a day, and dropping. I can get out of bed earlier, and I seem to be concentrating better, which means I'm getting work done quicker again, and consequently, getting out more-or-less on time. I've had some small energy to write, and projects are moving forward again. On the whole, it's been a remarkable experience. Not where I want to be yet, but I finally feel like I'm going to get there.
***
Over on Radius, our series on Bullying, Art & Culture has begun. So far, we have an introductory essay by myself, an essay by Dain Michael Down, and a poem by Billy Tuggle, with more to come.
We'll be unfolding work over the next few weeks, and hopefully, we'll be presenting a diverse and nuanced array of perspectives. That's the goal, anyway. I suppose someone other than me will have to tell me if we pulled it off. In any case, I've been gratified by the response so far.
I was prescribed the drug in an effort to begin unraveling a knot of health problems -- lethargy, weight gain, the effects of allergies, smoking and depression -- and so far it's working pretty well. I've had to revert to using my older belts, because the new ones are too big. I'm down to three cigarettes a day, and dropping. I can get out of bed earlier, and I seem to be concentrating better, which means I'm getting work done quicker again, and consequently, getting out more-or-less on time. I've had some small energy to write, and projects are moving forward again. On the whole, it's been a remarkable experience. Not where I want to be yet, but I finally feel like I'm going to get there.
***
Over on Radius, our series on Bullying, Art & Culture has begun. So far, we have an introductory essay by myself, an essay by Dain Michael Down, and a poem by Billy Tuggle, with more to come.
We'll be unfolding work over the next few weeks, and hopefully, we'll be presenting a diverse and nuanced array of perspectives. That's the goal, anyway. I suppose someone other than me will have to tell me if we pulled it off. In any case, I've been gratified by the response so far.
