Over the weekend I read the memoir Searching for Mercy Street, by Linda Gray Sexton, daughter of poet Anne Sexton. Her story (Linda Gray Sexton's) is intense and incredibly sad; she tells of her life with a mentally ill, suicidal genius mother whom she deeply loved and also feared and dreaded. She was abused, neglected, and terrorized, and she was also inspired, deeply loved and immortalized in poetry by her mother. Linda Gray Sexton didn't mean for her memoir to do this - but I put the book down with a really bad feeling toward Anne Sexton, even though I also think it's terribly sad how she suffered with her mental illness and depression her whole life.
My friend lent me the book, saying, "In my circles you were either an Anne Sexton person or a Sylvia Plath person." That made me chuckle. If I were stranded on an island with the collected works of only one contemporary American poet, it would be be neither of theirs: it would have to be Adrienne Rich's!
3 comments:
I’ve keep coming this post to comment and every time I get interrupted…
This is a great post; I find it so interesting the things to which you are drawn. Your choice of Adrienne Rich brought back memories. She is a worthy if not militant feminist. I remember one particular English professor required us to read and submit a report on 'Diving Into the Wreck'.
I totally didn’t get it, all deep and full of symbolism and said as much in my report. This was in the sixties, the word feminist hadn’t yet secured its way into webster’s and even if we knew someone was a lesbian, we didn’t verbalize it (especially married ones with sons). The professor called me in and asked who I looked up to as a female american poet….my reply….Dorothy Parker. She just laughed hysterically and finally said, “Oh right, you’re the debutante, aren’t you”.
To this day, I think Dorothy Parker is a kick-ass poet and writer. I was not a debutante,
and I now (more) understand and appreciate Adrienne Rich.
I like Dorothy Parker's poems, too... your professor was wrong to assign that poem to students, without any guidance; when I read "Diving Into the Wreck" my professor took us on a magical guided tour; she knew it was too layered and complex for us to unpack by ourselves, and it was a senior-level English class! Your professor sounds like a total ass! I am sorry and angry that you had that bad experience!
Thank you for your empathic Commiseration. We can't be too hard on her though... I wasn't exactly a dedicated lit student. You should have seen my interpretation of 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock'...
now that was embarrassing.
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