Poetry Friday--Poetry In Unexpected Places

Don't you love coming upon a line of poetry in spray paint on an underpass? Or seeing a short poem on a subway? Part of the delight is in the unexpectedness.

I've posted before on the topic on my library blog, Kurious Kitty's Kurio Kabinet, you can revisit the 2009 post here where you'll find mention of poetry in public toilets among other places!



In that post I didn't mention graveyards! Often a verse will be carved at the bottom of an old headstone. Sometimes you have to get right down on all fours to read it, but it's worth the resultant dirty knees. Here in New England where we have centuries' old graveyards, it may be easier to find snippets of poetry, but no matter where you live enjoy a stroll through an old graveyard, if for nothing else but to relax in the peace of the place.

Here's a poem by Aphra Behn, who lived during the 1600s:

Epitaph on the Tombstone of a Child, the Last of Seven that Died Before

This Little, Silent, Gloomy Monument,
Contains all that was sweet and innocent;
The softest pratler that e'er found a Tongue,
His Voice was Musick and his Words a Song;
Which now each List'ning Angel smiling hears,
Such pretty Harmonies compose the Spheres;
Wanton as unfledg'd Cupids, ere their Charms
Has learn'd the little arts of doing harms;
Fair as young Cherubins, as soft and kind,
And tho translated could not be refin'd;
The Seventh dear pledge the Nuptial Joys had given,
Toil'd here on Earth, retir'd to rest in Heaven;
Where they the shining Host of Angels fill,
Spread their gay wings before the Throne, and smile.

I hope, dear reader, that you don't think me morbid. I find poems on gravestones to be a sign of a great love for the departed left for all of us to enjoy.

Today's Poetry Friday Round-Up is being held at Violet Nesdoly / poems.

Photo by danmachold.

Women of Wednesday: Margaret Abbott, American Olympian

Continuing with the Olympic theme, I thought about the numerous Olympians we have profiled in the America’s Notable Women series. And I wondered who the first woman was to represent the United States in the Olympic games. Turns out to be an unusual story – not one of years of training, overcoming discrimination, or even athletic passion. It is, rather, very much a tale of its time.

The first modern Olympics, Athens 1896, did not include any women. Pierre de Coubertin, the French historian who lobbied for and organized the games, reasoned that since women did not participate (nor even attend) the Ancient Olympics, it would be appropriate to exclude women from the Modern Games as well. (Actually, there are records of women winners in the Ancient Games: like Ann Romney, they were the owners of horses competing in the equestrian events.)

The 1900 Olympics were held in Paris as part of the general celebrations of the 1900 World’s Fair. The games, like the Fair, ran from May to October, and, as an adjunct to the Fair, were more like a collection of athletic exhibitions than a unified event. Several of these exhibitions were of women’s sports: Lawn tennis, golf and croquet (and at least one woman sailed in a mixed yacht crew for Switzerland).

Margaret Abbott was a Chicago socialite living in Paris with her mother for a year of study of art. In October, both mother and daughter entered a nine-hole golf tournament. Golf had become the rage among high society people in Chicago in the 1890s when Charles MacDonald sent back to Scotland for a few sets of clubs and introduced the game to the United States in Wheaton, Illinois. The other competitors in the women’s tournament were also socialites, both American and French: golf was considered an appropriate game for ladies, as it provided for fresh air and exercise without requiring either revealing clothing or unbecoming perspiration.

Margaret won the 1900 Paris tournament with a score of 47, and received an antique bowl (with gold decoration) as her prize. The second and third place winners were also Americans. (Mrs. Abbott came in ninth.) It is very likely that the participants in the tournament did not realize the match was considered part of the Olympic Games; there is evidence that even some of the track-and-field participants considered their events part of the Centennial Exhibition but not “Olympic.” Margaret went on to win another tournament in France that year before returning to the United States, where she married the humorist writer Finley Peter Dunne in New York City. The Dunnes remained in New York and Margaret (and her four children) continued to play golf, albeit not competitively.

In the early 1970s, as the Women’s Movement and Title IX brought attention to women’s participation in sports, Paula Welch at the University of Florida began to research the question of female Olympians, and discovered Margaret’s story. In 1996, at the centennial celebration of the Games in Atlanta, Margaret was included in the program feature on the athletes of the 1900 Games.

This year, for the first time (and only because of pressure from the IOC), every country participating in the Olympic Games sent at least one woman athlete.

Golf has never again been included in the Olympic Games, so Margaret Abbott remains the only winner of a gold medal in women’s golf.

Reviewing the Elements of Story with the help of the Olympics

In this week when so many of us have been watching and reading about the Olympic games I’ve been struck by the way the coverage captures our interest by embedding individual stories into the larger story that is the Games. To be honest, I started thinking about this when someone pointed out that NBC has done much less of this than ABC used to do, recalling all those lovely little vignettes we used to see of some athlete’s tiny little village in Finland or Ethiopia or Trinidad and Tobago, which in these games you might not know are even competing unless you catch sight of their uniform in a track heat. And yes, I realized, I do miss that.

Each of those little, personal stories, compressed into a couple of minutes of tape, contained all of the essential elements of Story. There was, first and foremost, the main character, the protagonist, our hero: the athlete who, by virtue of being in the Olympics, was clearly different from other people. These folks we still see, obviously, generally in interviews. The stories, however, almost always include other, secondary characters – family members, friends, teammates and opponents. Each added flavor and interest and insight into the main character. Occasionally these are mentioned, this year, and this piques my curiosity. I miss them.

The next element of story which I find myself missing is setting. It’s probably my particular interest but I loved the peek into the lives of these athletes “back home,” all the more so when their homes were very different from my own. I loved seeing little Kenyan kids running miles up and down mountainsides to get to school, or elite Swiss skiers whose childhood homes seemed straight out of Heidi. Like the background in a painting, setting isn’t just pretty (or ugly), it informs the viewer/reader just as it shaped the character.

The plot of the Olympians’ stories might seem to be obvious and repetitious, and the conflicts obvious, but of course no one’s story is ever exactly like anyone elses, and a skillful storyteller builds the plot slowly, highlighting first one obstacle, letting us see the character overcome or be stymied by it, and then focusing on another, building to the climax of the tale (in this case, the climax is always the event you are about to watch). And the conflicts are not simply against other athletes: all the classic conflicts are possible and most good stories (pacem your high school English teacher) involve more than one: not simply “man versus man” but also versus the elements, versus society, and of course, within herself. We have see a couple of these this year, as there are some athletes who’ve overcome astounding obstacles to reach this level, but there must be thousands of good plot lines going unnoticed in these Games.

The final essential element of plot is, of course, what the Games are all about: resolution, what happens in the end? Someone wins, someone loses. There are cheers and there are tears. For writers, these are often the most difficult bits of the story – describe the resolution in a satisfying way, and then get out. For television, of course, this part is easy – they just go to the commercial. After the break, another character, another climax. Stay tuned.

 

And we do. Because it’s the Olympics. But I do wish that the next time around, they’d bring back the storytellers.

Poetry Friday--"In the Garden"

Here for your reading pleasure is a poem by Eavan Boland. I will offer it unadorned for it needs no explanations or comments!

In the Garden

Let’s go out now
before the morning
gets warm.
Get your bicycle,

your teddy bear--
the one that’s penny-colored
like your hair--
and come.

I want to show you
what
I don’t exactly know.
We’ll find out.

It’s our turn
in this garden,
by this light,
among the snails

and daisies--
one so slow
and one so closed--
to learn.

I could show you things:
how the poplar root
is pushing through,
how your apple tree is doing,

how daisies
shut like traps.
But you’re happy
as it is

and innocence
that until this
was just
an abstract water,

welling elsewhere
to refresh,
is risen here
my daughter:

before the dew,
before the bloom
the snail was here.
The whole morning is his loom

and this is truth,
this is brute grace
as only instinct knows
how to live it:

turn to me
your little face.
It shows a trace still,
an inkling of it.

This week's Poetry Friday Round-Up can be found On the Way to Somewhere...

--Diane

Photo © Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

Women of Wednesday: The Future Olympians

The Write Sisters have written profiles of many women of accomplishment. The America’s Notable Women series always includes stories of Olympic athletes. We’ve profiled such women as  gymnast Nastia Liukin, distance runner Lynn Jennings, swimmer Jenny Thompson, and skier Laurie Stephens.

As I write this, swimmer Elizabeth Beisel is in London participating in her second Olympic Games. She will be featured in our upcoming book on Rhode Island women. Yesterday, Elizabeth took the silver medal in the women’s 400 Individual Medley. So, before the book goes to press, we’ll be adding that information to her timeline. The 400 isn’t Elizabeth’s only competition in the XXX Olympiad. We may be editing her profile quite a bit before the end of the competitions.

When Elizabeth went to Bejing in 2008, she was only 15 years old. She turned 16 on her way back from China. Watching her last night and thinking about how young she was when she competed in her first Olympics got me thinking about the other little girls whose names we don’t yet know but who will be going to Rio de Janeiro in 2016.

Those little girls are probably watching their favorite athletes compete this week. They are watching in between swim lessons, and gymnastics lessons, and track practice. They are eating their meals in the car while they commute to the gym or the pool and in the fall they’ll do their homework on the road. They’ll get up early to swim before school starts or stay after school to jump hurdles.

They will tie their hair back in ponytails and keep their fingernails short. And based on the stories of the women we’ve already profiled, I’m betting they’ll belong to clubs, make time for friends, and keep their grades up so that they get into good colleges. They can do all that stuff because they have self-discipline in spades. And passion. And energy. And the support of grownups who are willing to help them accomplish Olympic dreams.

 

And when the running and swimming, and practice on the balance beam is all over, they will—like the women athletes who came before them—do some kind of good in the world. They’ll start mentoring programs like track star Jackie Joyner-Kersee or work in medicine like skater Tenley Albright. Because, when it’s time to stop competing, a woman’s gotta do something with all that tenacity, and energy, and self-discipline.


So here's to our Women of Wednesday: our future Olympians.