V  P  R

VALPARAISO POETRY REVIEW
Contemporary Poetry and Poetics


 


Review of Ted Kooser's Book of Poetry
 

~GILBERT PURDY~



TED KOOSER: DELIGHTS &  SHADOWS



Ted Kooser has been compared to Robert Frost
for just this reason: he writes about a regional
landscape and a way of life that is passing away.
He writes about it after a fashion that seems
particularly suited to his subject. The short poems
of this volume, and the lack of dialogue, suggest
a laconic people. The details are common but also
somehow characteristic of the small, midwestern
farming town.


In the title essay of Guy Davenportís book The Geography of the Imagination the author considers Grant Wood's painting American Gothic. The location was Eldon, Iowa. The artist's sister and dentist were the models for the husband (with his famous pitchfork) and wife. The house behind them was a balloon frame house, invented in the early 19th century and commonplace on the American prairie by the 1880s. The balloon frame house was framed with 2x4s rather than heavy custom cut timbers. Much of the household purchasing in the sprawling, sparsely populated midwest was done by mail order, and, by the 1890s, standardized balloon frame construction kits could be purchased through mail order and shipped to site by train. Hundreds of floor plans, from gingerbread Victorian to neo-Classical, were available.
     The windows in the house, Davenport reminds the reader, were invented centuries before in Venice, Italy, and later perfected for colder climates in England. The pair wears clothing made from materials also distributed by mail order houses:

          The train that brought her clothes — paper pattern, bolt
          cloth, needle, thread, scissors — also brought her husband's
          bib overalls, which were originally, in the 1870s, trainmen's
          workclothes designed in Europe, manufactured here for J. C.
          Penny, and disseminated across the United States as the railroads
          connected city with city. The cloth is denim, from Nömes
          in France, introduced by Levi Strauss of blue jean fame.
          The design can be traced to no less a person than Herbert
          Spencer, who thought he was creating a utilitarian one-piece
          suit for everybody to wear. 

The hieratic pose has its inception in ancient Egypt where the pitchfork was originally a flail. The American Gothic of 1929, it seems, was made up of a mixture of influences, few of which were midwestern and none of which were gothic.
     Much the same may be said of Ted Kooser's Delights & Shadows. Wood's farmers were not the farmers of two generations before. As simple, sturdy and unaffected as they look on the surface, their simplicity had begun to be eroded, invaded. For all the wonder of their new purchasing power, they were just about to undergo the Great Depression. The decline of the family farm, and the lifestyle that went with it, was already irreversibly underway.
     Kooser's Nebraskans are quietly diverse. There is a Vietnamese café in town. There are yard sales attended by an aging biker with a tattoo:

          A dripping dagger held in the fist
          of a shuddering heart . . . .

     What is so attractive about them, however — putting the author's obvious affection for them, for the moment, aside — is their sense of being holdovers from a more solid, less frenzied time.  Perhaps the best poem in the volume is about "A Jar of Buttons."  Today we are no longer in the habit of keeping jars of buttons even on the Great Plains. Generally, working mothers no longer have the time or inclination to sew them back on. Delights & Shadows portrays the passing of a way of life.
     Ted Kooser has been compared to Robert Frost for just this reason: he writes about a regional landscape and a way of life that is passing away. He writes about it after a fashion that seems particularly suited to his subject. The short poems of this volume, and the lack of dialogue, suggest a laconic people. The details are common but also somehow characteristic of the small, midwestern farming town.
     In the poem "Pearl" — the poem most mindful of Frost's North of Boston — the poet has traveled to Elkander, Iowa:

          a hundred miles to tell our cousin, Pearl,
          that her childhood playmate, Vera, my mother,
          had died.

The simple detail of "the door / with its lace-covered oval of glass" is all the description needed to erect the house in the reader's mind. When he calls out "It's Vera's boy," we are immediately taken back to the land of American Gothic.  Everyone is so filled with being themselves these days.
     It is a world of small details. The poems of Delights & Shadows are filled with them: the kind of observations that belonged to a less harried time. The reader must slow to an unaccustomed pace when faced by poems such as "A Washing of Hands":

          She turned on the tap and a silver braid
          unraveled over her fingers.
          She cupped them, weighing that tassel,
          first in one hand and then the other,
          then pinching through the threads
          as if searching for something . . . .

     So many of the poems go with titles such as "Dishwater," "Applesauce," and "Casting Reels." The titles are properly descriptive of what the reader will find: ordinary scenes recalled lingeringly in their material objects.
     In the poem "Cosmetics Department," on the other hand, two young women try on beauty in an immediately contemporary scene. In "A Rainy Morning":

          A young woman in a wheelchair,
          wearing a black nylon poncho spattered with rain,
          is pushing herself through the morning.

Perhaps her matter-of-fact deftness comes from another time, but the scene is wholly contemporary. In the poem "Lobocraspis griseifusa" — the title the Latin name of the moth the poem describes — the poet achieves a timeless and place-less grace.
     Pearl heats up a pan of water and makes instant coffee. She and Ted talk quietly. She recalls a memory of herself and his mother when they were little girls. Then, as if it was just another topic of conversation:

                                                    "I've had
          some trouble with health myself," she said,
          taking off her glasses and wiping them,
          and I said she looked good, though, and she said,
          "I've started seeing people who aren't here.
          I know they're not real but I see them the same.
          They come in the house and sit around
          and never say a word. . . ."

It is one of the many quietly human moments in Delights & Shadows. Writing simply is supremely difficult and Ted Kooser does it well.


Kooser, Ted.  Delights & Shadows. Port Townsend, WA: Copper Canyon Press, 2004.  ISBN 1-55659-201-9  $15.00

 
 

© by Gilbert Purdy
 
 


 
 
Contributor's note
Next page
Table of contents
VPR home page
 

[Best read with browser font preferences set at 12 pt. Times New Roman]