“Someone shuffled past my door and said, ‘Our goose is cooked.’ I had my knife and fork ready and the napkin around my neck, but my plate remained empty,” read poet laureate Charles Simic from a podium in Northeastern University’s Curry Student Center Ballroom last Thursday evening.
The 1990 Pulitzer Prize winning poet was a fitting choice to fulfill the wishes of C. Lee Hanson and his wife Eunice, who established the Peter Burton Hanson Memorial Fund to honor their son Peter, his wife and daughter, who died on Sept. 11, 2001, when the plane they were on crashed into the World Trade Center.
The fund was established to bring a noted writer to campus each year and to support annual prizes in poetry and literary scholarship in memory of him as well as his passion for the written word.
Peter earned a bachelor’s degree in English from NU’s College of Arts and Sciences. At the time of his death, he was vice president of sales for TimeTrade Systems, a software company in Waltham.
Simic is no stranger to war. As a child he lived through WWII and experienced its wrath in Yugoslavia as well as the civil strife that followed. He viewed the Vietnam War and the wars in Slovenia, Croatia, and Bosnia on television.
Little wonder he wrote “Paper Dolls Cut Out of a Newspaper”: “Four of them holding hands like a family./There’s a war on this morning/And an advertisement for heavenly coffee/ Next to a picture of a murderer.”
Published in 1994 in his book “A Wedding in Hell,” it captures a moment of truth in its final sentence: “The printer’s ink comes off/On your fingers, on your face/When you cover your eyes, Rosie.”
Simic defines poetry as the “orphan of silence.” Many of his poems read like silent meditations as they re-enact common, everyday experiences, ranging from a visit to an abandoned factory to seeing a heavy mirror carried across the street.
He exhibits an uncanny ability to humbly and colorfully capture single moments in time and turn them into something philosophical. Each poem reflects his ability to become conscious of his own consciousness and in turn makes me conscious of my own.
Yet, Simic also shows from time to time that he is not void of a sense of humor. In his book “The World Doesn’t End,” which is a collection of untitled short prose poems, he writes, “We were so poor I had to take the place of bait in the mousetrap…’These are dark and evil days,’ the mouse told me as he nibbled my ear.”
Monday, while conferencing with a science student in the required writing course I teach at NU, I noticed that she seemed uncomfortable when we were reading a section of her research paper on sleep disorders. It emphasized the role sleep environments can play and how once altered, they can serve the patient seeking treatment.
Statistics relating to various sleeping arrangements and the toll they can have on the sleep patterns of youth in particular seemed to make my student restless. So to make her feel more comfortable, I asked her if she had every read “Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”
She had, so then I asked her if she remembered the description of the four grandparents sleeping in one bed. She laughed. Shortly after, I said, “I guess two or more to a bedroom or bed can’t be that bad after all.” She nervously laughed again.
Then in a very quiet voice my student said, “You know, in my country children often share rooms and beds.” I told her if she could keep a secret, I would tell her something about my own youth. She nodded, “Yes.”
I told her my sister and I not only shared a room, but we shared a double bed. She smiled and we went on reading and discussing the strengths and weaknesses of her paper.
My student, who was born and raised in China, reminded me why I like Simic’s poetry.
Each poem shows a quiet respect for the common man and an understanding of his troubled, yet uniquely special, nearly sacred life.
Parents and teachers would do well to bring some of Simic’s work into their children’s live. Although he is currently an English professor at the University of New Hampshire, he has lived through modest times and demonstrates respect for others who have done the same or still do.
There are numerous teachable moments available with a reading or two of some of his free verse poems. “The World Doesn’t End” is the book that was awarded the Pulitzer; however, “A Wedding in Hell” or “Walking the Black Cat” suits me fine.
Any one of these would make a nice stocking stuffer or serve as a thoughtful gift for a friend.
Westwood resident Carol Ziemian teaches writing at Northeastern University. Her column appears in the Daily News Transcript on Wednesday. She can be reached at YankeePenn@aol.com.
