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The Daily Poem

Grace Schulman's "American Solitude"

The Daily Poem

Goldberry Studios

Education For Kids, Arts, Kids & Family

4.6729 Ratings

🗓️ 3 July 2024

⏱️ 18 minutes

🧾️ Download transcript

Summary

Today’s poem is lovely, dark, and deep. Loneliness, Americana, Edward Hopper, literary illusions, clams: it has it all. Happy reading!

Poet and editor Grace Schulman (b. 1935) was born Grace Waldman in New York City, the only child of a Polish Jewish immigrant father and a seventh-generation American mother. She studied at Bard College and earned her BA from American University and her PhD from New York University. She is Distinguished Professor of English at Baruch College, CUNY, and served as the poetry editor of the Nation from 1972 to 2006. She also directed the 92nd Street Y Poetry Center from 1973 to 1985. She has published nine collections of poetry, including Again, the Dawn: New and Selected Poems, 1976-2022 (Turtle Point Press, 2022) and Days of Wonder: New and Selected Poems (Harper Collins, 2022). Her collection of essays, First Loves and Other Adventures (2010)reflects on her life as a writer and reader.

Typically written in a lucid free verse that occasionally reaches vatic heights, Schulman’s poems often take on subjects of art, history, and faith. Schulman’s history is usually that of her beloved New York City, where she has lived and worked as a dedicated poetry advocate all her life. Earthly moments and details of city life constantly suggest larger spiritual questions. Poet Ron Slate has described Schulman as “not only a poet of praise, but one who addresses the grounding questions of this mode. How and why do we find beauty in adversity?”

Schulman names Hopkins, Donne, Shakespeare, Dante, Whitman, and Marianne Moore as her influences. When Schulman was a teenager she was introduced to Moore, who had a profound effect on her poetics. Schulman wrote on the poet in a critical study, Marianne Moore: The Poetry of Engagement (1986), and edited The Poems of Marianne Moore (2004). Schulman has received numerous awards for her work, including the Delmore Schwartz Memorial Award, the Aiken Taylor Award for poetry, and Pushcart prizes. She has received fellowships from the New York Foundation of the Arts and the Guggenheim Foundation. Her work has been published in the Nation, the New Yorker, and numerous other magazines and journals, and appeared in The Best of the Best American Poetry 1988–1998.

She lives in New York City and East Hampton.

-bio via Poetry Foundation



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Transcript

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0:00.0

Welcome back to the Daily Poem, a podcast from Goldberry Studios. I'm Sean Johnson, and today is Wednesday, July 3rd, 2004. And if you're keeping score at home, then you know that tomorrow is July 4th, the birthday of our nation, assuming you are listening from America. If not, welcome. Glad to have you. It is becoming the tradition

0:24.6

here at the Daily Poem during the lead-up and follow-up to the Fourth of July to feature poems that

0:33.2

deal with the subject of America. And from a number of vantage points,

0:39.6

the Robert Frost has a poem called America is hard to see.

0:45.0

And there must be some truth to that because you can canvas the nation.

0:50.6

You can canvas your neighborhood.

0:53.0

You could canvas the produce aisle at the grocery

0:55.3

store and get all kinds of different perspectives on what America is how great or not so great it is.

1:04.6

There are people who confuse patriotism with sacraments, something sanctifying. There are people who swear that next

1:15.5

month they're going to move to Canada and never come back, and there are a million people

1:19.2

in between those two extremes. So today, we will begin a short series of poems devoted to contemplating America.

1:31.3

The first is by Grace Schulman, and it's called American Solitude.

1:37.1

I'll read it once, offer a few comments, and then read it one more time.

1:42.0

Here is American Solitude, and the poem has an epigraph from the poet Marianne Moore.

1:49.6

The cure for loneliness is solitude.

1:55.8

Hopper never painted this, but here on a snaky path his vision lingers. Three white tombs, robots with

2:04.5

glassed in faces and meters for eyes, grim mouths, flat noses, lean forward on a platform,

2:11.6

like strangers with identical frowns, scanning a blur, far off, that might be their train.

2:18.7

Gas tanks broken for decades face Parsons' smithy, planked shut now. Both relics must stay.

2:26.9

The pumps have roots in gas pools, and the smithy stores memories of hammers forging

2:32.7

sithes to cut spartanagrass for dry salt hay.

2:37.2

The tanks have the remove of local clamors who sink buckets and stand, never in pairs, but one and one and one.

...

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