Laurie Rappeport
LAURIE’S QUESTIONS / MY REPLIES: An Interview
Reuven,
Here are some questions. If you can think of some other information that I’m not thinking of, please add it.
Laurie Rappeport: What is your background in poetry? Do you write? Study it? Teach it? All of the above?
Reuven Goldfarb: All of the above. I began writing poetry at the age of seven, stopped writing before I turned ten, and resumed writing during my senior year in high school, when I was 15. I read with pleasure, both on my own and for class assignments. I became an English major in college (Lafayette College, Easton, PA), where I edited the Poetry Yearbook and the Marquis, our literary magazine, and graduated with Honors in English. I entered the Graduate Program in Creative Writing at Syracuse University in the fall of 1965 and earned 21 credits before dropping out in 1967. My Master’s thesis, a collection of poems entitled, The Eye, was completed and would have been accepted, the head of the writing program told me, but by then I had lost interest in academia and desired to experience life more directly. I traveled to San Francisco in the summer of 1967 and met that goal, experiencing much joy and much grief in the process. Whatever happened to me, both good and bad, was good for my poetry, which in turn gave me a handle on life. My work has been published in dozens of venues and won several awards. I have also given many public readings.
In 1981 I co-founded AGADA, the illustrated Jewish literary magazine, and published 11 issues, which included the work of 150 artists and writers. The magazine suspended publication in 1988. That year I returned to academic life as an Adjunct Professor of English in the Peralta Community College District. I taught mostly Freshman English at Merritt College and found I enjoyed my work. At this point in my life I was ready to return to a college setting and share whatever learning I had acquired My college degree and graduate school credits, personal recommendations and “experience in the field” — earned as editor of AGADA — enabled me to obtain a teaching credential. So even without a Master’s degree (the usual requirement), I was accepted as a classroom instructor at the community college level — though I was limited to teaching six units per semester.
Laurie Rappeport: What kind of poetry are you drawn to? Which period? Only English?
Reuven Goldfarb I’m drawn to good poetry, from any period, in any genre, and in any language — but I can only read English with facility, so since poetry usually loses quite a bit in translation, I tend to read and recite only poetry written originally in English.
Laurie Rappeport: How is your poetry group organized in Tzfat? Have you done such a group before? When you take a piece to study it, how do you proceed?
Reuven Goldfarb: I was approached about three years ago by a friend who lives on Moshav Me’or Modi’im about coming to the center of the country and teaching a poetry workshop there. Her invitation got me thinking about format and content. Apart from my years at Syracuse, where I studied with Philip Booth and Donald Justice, I had taken poetry workshops with other poets — Rodger Kamenetz, Marge Piercy, and Richard Silberg — and had led a couple of writing groups at the Joys of Jewishing — a week-long Summer Encampment in California that my community in Berkeley sponsored and that my wife Yehudit directed. The workshop idea never came to fruition. I had also thought about starting a men’s writing group in Tzfat, a town which, as you know, is replete with women’s groups of all sorts, but as far as I know, nothing like it exists for men. I never even publicized this idea, so it died a-borning. However, I did talk about these ideas with a couple of friends, and when I announced the start of Poetry Immersion, they immediately expressed strong interest and began attending. As a former Ulpan (Hebrew Immersion) student, I thought that Poetry Immersion was the right name for this group. (We’ve also toyed with the name “The Live Poets Society,” which was suggested by another friend who had never attended the weekly sessions.)
We meet for two hours every Sunday night, beginning at 7:30. I choose the selections and give a little background. Then we go around and each person takes a turn at reading an entire poem, if it’s short, or one stanza or a decent length section, if it’s longer — and sometimes we all read at once, especially when there’s a boffo conclusion. In my introductions I like to begin by clarifying the formal elements, such as line length, rhyme scheme (if any), type of stanza (if the poem relies on such), and meter. We started with English and Scottish Border Ballads, which go back to the 15th century and whose authors we know little or nothing about; moved on to the sonnet, which began to be written in Italy in the 13th century, and about whose authors we know a great deal; and then tackled elegies and odes. We mixed and matched quite a few genres and styles and are located at present somewhere in the late 19th century, between Arnold and Eliot.
To the extent that there are obscurities in the language (sometimes archaic) or the references (often mythological and requiring some research in Greek and Roman mythology to be understood), we pause to sort that out, just to clarify the simple meaning — the P’shat. As we read aloud and then share our responses to the individual poem, on an emotional and ideational level, the author’s intentions gradually reveal themselves. If we’re lucky, there can be a moment when we all really get it, when we say, “Wow!” and no more comments or analyses are necessary. This has happened rarely, but when it happens, that’s when we know we have had a real “Poetry Immersion” experience; we have bathed in the Pierian Spring (you could look it up). This has happened to us when we read one of Shakespeare’s sonnets (I think it was XXX, “When to the sessions of sweet silent thought”), and again with Wordsworth’s “Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood.” There were a couple of other instances like that over the past several months (we started in January). The overwhelming sensation is exactly like taking a mikveh. And of course there were numerous other occasions when we simply marveled at the deftness of the poet’s use of language. Such astonishment occurred regularly when we read Keats.
Another aspect of the poems that we notice is the recurrence of certain themes, such as the desire for immortality, that is achieved by writing poems that will outlast the author’s lifetime and will preserve the intensity of his passion or devotion to his lover for all eternity, or at least as long as the human race, as we know it, persists. As Shakespeare wrote, “So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see, / So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.” (Sonnet XVIII) This thread is especially pervasive in Italian poetry of the Renaissance, migrated to England in the 1500s, and was a dominant theme among the Elizabethan poets and later among the Romantics.
Another recurrent subject in English poetry — and this was a bit of a surprise to me — is Faery, an imaginary place one presumes, though rooted in local history and indigenous lore, to which there are frequent references. It reminds us of the mysterious and miraculous elements in our lives, whose magic cannot be easily explained. We know it when we see it; it is one of the means by which ordinary reality is suspended and we enter a charmed realm. This realm is often and effectively invoked by many an English poet. Enchantment is dangerous, however, no matter how seductive and alluring it may seem. There is a dark side and a light side in whichever world we inhabit.
As Jewish auditors we also take note of how Jews and Judaism are portrayed. There are frequent references to “Jewes” and to Bible stories in English poetry. B’kitzur, Milton comes out better than Donne in this department. We have also benefited immensely from hearing the voices of modern poets, such as Yeats and Auden (and even Tennyson!), whose readings were recorded, and from hearing a range of balladeers such as Woody Guthrie, the Reverend Gary Davis, and Judy Collins on their LP releases.
Laurie Rappeport: >What has been the response in Tzfat? What kind of people attend your workshop? Is everyone interested in studying in the same way, or are there different directions that people want to take?
Reuven Goldfarb: Sixteen folks (including three out-of-town visitors) have come at least once, and of those, ten have come several times. Our gatherings usually consist of five or six participants, sometimes more and sometimes fewer. Of the regulars, one is a singer-songwriter and actress, one (aside from me) is a published poet and English teacher, one is a retired teacher of English, another is a movement specialist and healer, another participates in a women’s writing group, three are artists, and one of those is an inveterate reader and autodidact with professorial tendencies. The existence of the group seems to answer a real need in their lives for exactly this type of sharing.
Laurie Rappeport: Do you see a lot of creative talent here? Do people bring their own work to share?
Reuven Goldfarb: The group at present does not share its own writings. I suspect we would need to start another group for that purpose. We’ve worked out a respectful way of dealing with each person’s method of responding to the work. One of the important elements is to make sure there is enough time allowed and real curiosity shown for hearing each person’s reactions. At the same time, it is equally important to concentrate on the work itself and not to drift off into aimless free association and speculation.
The group shows considerable interest in the personal lives of the poets, and I consider the biographical background information I have been able to obtain important for understanding their work. Therefore, I introduce some discursions in that direction, without, however, allowing them to substitute for our study of the authors’ artistic intentions and accomplishments. By doing so, I trust that each person in the group becomes more able to access his or her own expressive abilities and to continue the work of integrating art and life.
Poetry Immersion in Tzfat
by Laurie Rappeport
Tzfat has a large English-speaking population, and two of the things that draw other Anglos to Tzfat are the already-existing English-speaking community and the organizations and institutions that it has created.
In recent years, this has become especially true as Anglo immigrants have organized, in addition to the popular English library, writing and drama groups, and book clubs.
Thanks to a resident who wanted to share his knowledge and love of poetry, a Poetry Immersion class has been created. This class meets weekly, and participants read aloud and discuss a variety of poems written by some of the most outstanding figures in literary history whose primary language of composition was English.
The group was founded by Reuven Goldfarb, whose love of poetry goes back to his childhood. Reuven majored in English and American Literature in college and wrote his Master’s Thesis as a poetry collection. As he navigated his way through the ’70s, his joys and griefs provided material for poems which helped him get “a handle on life.” In 1981, he began publishing AGADA, the illustrated Jewish literary magazine. In the late 80s, Reuven began to teach Creative Writing, Journal-Keeping, and Reading and Composition at Community Colleges in northern California, an experience which provided him with a strong background for creating a his present Poetry Immersion class in Tzfat.
In early 2009, a short blurb in the local English-language newsletter about the founding of the group brought out several other residents who wanted to come together to explore English language poetry. With Reuven acting as the facilitator, they began to meet weekly, pleased to have a forum which allowed them to study and “immerse themselves” in this rich tradition.
Reuven selects the pieces that the group explores, along with some biographical information about the poets, which, he says, often helps the group to better understand the work. He clarifies the formal elements (meter, rhyme scheme, line length, and type of stanza). The participants take turns reading selections, pausing when the need arises to clarify references and terms, tone and narrative thread.
As Reuven describes it, “As we read aloud and then share our responses to the individual poem, on an emotional and ideational level, the author’s intentions gradually reveal themselves. If we’re lucky, there can be a moment when we all really get it, when we say, ‘Wow!’ and no more comments or analyses are necessary.”
The group began studying English and Scottish Border Ballads, then moved on to sonnets, and then to elegies and odes and dramatic monologues. Thus, the members have already explored various genres and styles, encountered a wide range of subject matter, and absorbed a multiplicity of poetic voices and approaches.
The gatherings usually attract approximately half a dozen participants, nearly always all Jewish, and as such, they take note of how Jews and Judaism are portrayed in the poems. Reuven carefully monitors the discussion to make sure there is enough time allowed for hearing each person’s reactions, yet insuring that the group concentrates on the work itself and doesn’t drift off into aimless free association and speculation.
[This piece appears on pages 18-22 in Trains of Thought: 2009 Supplement]
