On Jack Spicer

John Lowther

 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


First I should credit the two pieces. Jack Spicer, Poet appeared as the inaugural chapbook in the “Poetry P.S.A.” from THE NAMELESS, the publishing imprint of eyedrum art & music gallery [eyedrum.org].  The P.S.A. series, though founded to focus on poetry may soon expend to consider other sorts of artists (Joseph Beuys for instance).  The Spicer chap has a print run to date of 350 copies and I expect that more will be made in time. Poetry P.S.A. #2, Gertrude Stein, Poet by Mark Prejsnar exists in an edition of 300.  As a member of the board  at eyedrum, this series was my idea and I take the public service aspect of it very seriously. Over 250 copies of the Spicer chap have already been distributed for free in the Atlanta area; through personal networks (“Hey, do you know 5 people who would read this?”) and by leaving copies in independent video stores, coffee shops, book stores, galleries and bars.  I’m very appreciative of Octopus of making this text available on line & thus outside of the local.

 

“Phantom Continuities / Poetic Communities” appears in the 2nd issue of the on-line art magazine interreview [interreview.org], whose theme is institutional critique.  My thanks go to Ginger Wolfe at interreview for allowing me to reprint this along side it’s textual companion.  The scope of this piece is perhaps somewhat broader than Spicer, but, as such, I hope that it offers an operationalization of what I find most crucial in Spicer’s legacy. 

 

John Lowther

July 26th, 2004

Atlanta GA

 


Jack Spicer, Poet

 

 

Jack Spicer died at age 40 in1965. 

His wishes adhered to, he was buried in an unmarked grave.

This is not a séance, exactly.

 

 

Language lies between us.

 

 

 

 

“My vocabulary did this to me.”

                                                                               —his last words

 

 

 

Thing  Language

 

 

   This ocean, humiliating in its disguises

   Tougher than anything.

   No one listens to poetry. The ocean

   Does not mean to be listened to. A drop

   Or crash of water. It means

   Nothing.

   It

   Is bread and butter

   Pepper and salt. The death

   That young men hope for. Aimlessly

   It pounds the shore. White and aimless signals. No

   One listens to poetry.

 

 

“No one listens to poetry”

    if this is true… and if all of Jack’s poetry is out of print and hard to find, why then is Jack Spicer a crucial figure in American poetry now?

    I think it is because Spicer was a subject of poetry.  I don’t mean that he was or that he provided subject matter that a poem could then be about. I mean that he was a subject of poetry in the way that a peasant is a subject of the Queen.« Or at least that use as an option in the word.  Hear it akin to being a ‘subject of the unconscious’ ala Lacan, or even as being ‘subject to penalties’ for breaking a lease or ‘subject to some restrictions’ racing by in the disclaimers. 

    We are obliged to postulate an event, perhaps it happenned in Berkeley? An event in and of poetry as lived by a group of people. An event that Spicer maintained, sustained, & was ever after a subject to.

 

What is it about aliens? Imagine it is the 50s. 

    The alien. The other. (Alice is an alien in Wonderland.) 

    The aliens in invasion movies all seem to be subject to something, some plan, some imperative. Has anyone ever suggested that it could be poetry?

    It Came from Other Space!

    They land.  They come to us.  Invisibly. “Come” to us, in us, through us. If we get too close, we become them? Succumb to them, are seduced by them?  Or are they us already?  Were they us all along?

 

In Spicer’s time and likewise here and now, all around us, there is an incessant presumption, or less that than an ideology – if an ideology is what you know without knowing it – what you know everyone knows without knowing that you know that

    Self-expression is (ideologically) axiomatic in this culture. The linchpin. The answer behind which no answer lies when the question arises; why make art? Why be a poet? Forced to articulate what the culture has already scripted some artists and poets have obsessively & consciously foregrounded their self expressing itself.  The confessional poem, etc.

    It’s everywhere in culture, generally. Romanticism is a fair term to use for this. Or  at least a line that leads back toward one explanation for such a widespread and unquestioned presumption. Others are always possible. But we know the story, right? The artist’s suffering. The harsh forces of an unjust society are incapable of seeing what this genius has wrought, until (of course) it is far too late. The tragedy. & thus rugged individualism forever engaged in, well,…expressing itself (as a way of affirming itself against what is not itself? as a rebutal to a world beyond its control? as a protest against it’s non-identity with itself?)

 

 

***

 

    I am tempted to suggest that it is the misfit between this conception of the artist or poet and the real of their subjection to their art is what brings about the common thematics of trauma and suffering as a desperate attempt to balance the myth of the romantic creator-artist and way that language lies between, twisting telos out of shape.

    Jack Spicer was coming from somewhere else.

    [Or rather, his poetry would be seen to have come from somewhere different. This is hindsight and assumes that what Spicer will become over the course of his short life is in some way continuous with who he started out as. Perhaps this is false, perhaps, like a butterfly – like some other born from a cocoon or a pod –  the period of the ‘books’ marking his emergence, already able to ‘take dictation?’]

    Regardless of where it will seem that Spicer has come from, the ideology you get, that I got and that he got growing up in this culture is that the poetic or artistic self exists with the goal of expressing itself.

    But things get complicated. Ask any artist.

    The work, from the moment it becomes worthwhile, talks back. Is recalcitrant. Becomes something other to our supposed, half remembered intentions. Or they—our intentions—to maintain the fantasy of their control are covertly modified by the work without their knowing. & in even those rare instances where intention feels to have found some claim of clear expression, the work, the language, always exceeds it, managing to mean something else, to suggest something else– something other than what was intended– 

    Yet everyone knows that art is about self-expression.

 

Imagine then, the subversion, the shock even, when in Spicer’s last year he spoke of poetry to audiences suddenly swollen by the ranks of the original ‘wanna-beats’ – their interest derived, at least initially, from the mass media’s portrayal not of beat writings so much as what they thereby created in part; beat lifestyle·;

 

    “I don’t think that messages are for the poet any more than the radio program is for the radio set. And I think that the radio set doesn’t really worry about whether anyone’s listening to it or not, and neither does the poet.”

   

The poet is figured here as a passive device. Combining things he said one could easily list the responsibilities of the poet according to Jack Spicer;

 

·               to know when a transmission is coming in

·               to take dictation

·               to know when the transmission is over

·               to stay out of the way of the transmission

 

Though this wouldn’t be his style at all, this listing, as if of a series of procedures that one could then follow to cause a poem. There is more.

    Think of these responsibilities as the groundwork for a poem to happen. To use a Spicer metaphor from the lectures, see this as getting the place ready for a party and note that it says nothing about whether any guests will show up.

 

In the 1956 Invasion of the Body Snatchers, how is it that the pods are able to grow a new you?   Is it, as it seems initially, mere proximity? (Isn’t that also one of the prime factors leading to sexual attraction?)

    Large, insect- or vegetable-like pods or cocoons stashed in your home, garage or greenhouse allow the pod to grow a new you. So, if you allow one of them to live nearby, just look what will happen, or so says the ideological voice of Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

    The film gives conflicting testimony regarding proximity as prime cause.  Consider the scene near the end when Becky (Dana Wynter), exhausted from running, drifts to sleep for but a few moments, while Dr. Miles Bennell (Kevin McCarthy) goes to scout out the best way for them to go next.  All she has to do is fall asleep for a moment for the transformation to be complete.

    (But they look…, just like us.)

    An instant other becoming.

 

For Spicer, language always lies between us.

    Hear that lie again. It lies there insisting on an excess in the words. Ever offered a compliment that as taken as an insult? Tossed off an email that said something different later?  As a Spicer poem puts it, “words/ turn mysteriously against those who use them.” In a letter he wrote, “Words exhaust themselves while feelings don’t—that is our greatest tragedy.”

Invasion of the Body Snatchers is famously read as an allegory of the usa’s fear of communism, or its spread in the 50s.  We might see it as this country’s generalized fear of difference. As this is an ideological production, your place is set for you… you will identify with the Doctor and his love interest Becky. You will fear the alien.

    But what is it about these aliens?  Does the pod produce a new you that then disposes of your body somehow? It seems that way to begin with.  But why are no bodies found? Well, they must be very good at disposal. But they have our knowledge somehow, our minds, right? So they are us, but us with other motives. But then, again, that late transformation of Becky which leaves no “real” body around anywhere—what do we make of that? All she had to do was ‘sleep on it.’ & now she’s one of them?  Is being one of them simply sympathizing with them? Is it sleeping with them?  This film was also known as Sleep No More. 

    Is it something about how they reproduce? That it is somehow ‘unnatural’? ie, that they’re sexual deviants?  The film’s working title was They Came from Another World. Lots of ‘coming’ goes on it the titles. Make what you want of that.

    But the pod people, and the other aliens who look just like us from both Invaders from Mars and It Came from Outer Space, they all act differently. They act wrong. They act other than they were.  But this otherness is not visible and thus must reside in their knowledge or their capacities. What they know of or are capable of and that we can only discern now and then… 

    In two of these instances the aliens are depicted as lacking in or devoid of ‘normal’ human emotion, as if, dead, but still animated. Still subject to some imperative…

 

In Berkeley, before there were beats or beatniks, before the San Francisco scene of the 60s would steal the term ‘renaissance’, there was comething called the Berkeley Renaissance. This was Robert Duncan, Jack Spicer, Robin Blaser & others. They were a community, a small society of poets. They met, read, exchanged books and perspectives, argued. This is a daily routine of poetry, talk, debate and lots of reading alone while waiting for it to start again. Its happening adjacent to an academic setting, but outside its normal channels. Looking back from a later vantage this might appear as an early impulse against institutional control that would only later realize itself as a critique of the academic setting.

    It began with these poets, a teacher, a few others doing what one might think you would do in an academic setting, that is, share things you are interested in. It happens, but is not always the case. & surely this level of intensity and commitment is unusual. A period of ferment for the poetic drive that would contribute to what all three later accomplished, naturally…

                                         …It couldn’t go on.

    This was the 1950s remember. The teacher that was a part of their group, Kantorwicz, refused to sign the U of California’s  Loyalty Oath. It was professional suicide but he refused. He was suddenly not only fired but physically absent from their world. His departure, a sure sign of the end.  This intense period of poetic involvement, an event in itself for them all, ended by another, darker and more ominous political event.

    John L. Spicer as he was academically known, also refused to sign the Oath. Spicer already openly and unapologetically gay, encouraged by Robert Duncan’s own bravery in this regard was now marked against his will, politically, a leftist label attached to him.  Which, with the loss of job starts a period of wandering, working fringe jobs, jobs which barely challenged him. His community, his society of poets scattered and lost. 

    He was miserable.

 

He spent time in Boston and parts east (upper midwest too)  before gratefully returning to CA where he stayed until the last year of his life.  That locale, the San Francisco Bay area, forms the implicit backdrop of many of his poems.

    Spicer hated New York and didn’t seem to like the poets there either, or at least some tell it that way. Frank O’Hara even mentions him in a poem*.

 

Spicer’s father, he said, had been a Wobbly & Jack, carrying on this assumed tradition went to anarchist and socialist political meetings before becoming involved with the Mattachine Society, one of the earliest homosexual rights groups.  Ostensibly a book club it had clandestine meetings and guarded its rolls dearly.  Jack took on an activist, organizational role in the Mattachine Society. He attended an historic statewide gathering down in Los Angeles and was put up in a “safe house” for this event. The gathering of these gay men (they look…, just like us) was fraught with anxiety, fear of police, cameras, spies, the room’s lights left very dim.

    Recall the scene in Invasion of the Body Snatchers where the he & she of the film hide in the doctor’s office – looking out they see everybody going about their morning lives – but then at a signal we see these Invaders all working with silent (dead?) precision to distribute the pods.

    Subjects of their own reproduction? 

 

Reflection and inversion.

 

Already branded a leftist, a homosexual and a poet Jack Spicer was well placed to see the collective fear of difference figured in films like Invaders from Mars or Invasion of the Body Snatchers—fear of those who look just like us, but are somehow not like us.

    Where do their orders come from? 

 

Spicer’s poetry is most known by poets who are working in some one of the traditions known as avant garde or experimental— where it also shows signs of influence and generativity. He is almost entirely unknown to the literary mainstream – what Charles Bernstein calls, with good reason – Official Verse Culture.  & yet he is not, at first glance, a wild experimenter with language. A reader knows the words he uses. He writes of baseball, the ocean, seagulls, radios and of characters King Arthur and JFK, Buster Keaton and Dillinger. His poems are even deceptively open. They are also in no sense tradition-less, or as we might hear it these days, “tradition-free.”

 

 

        The Grail is the opposite of poetry

        Fills us up instead of using us as a cup the dead drink from.

 

 

For Spicer a poem cannot help but to embody earlier poems. As poets we are the cups that the dead (poets) drink from. We extend their margin of survival in language – as echoes of various levels of clarity. Tho it is not them, these dead poets so much as their poetry. Each poem is thus an always partial and unfinished redemption of poetry, not of the reader, nor of the poet (living or dead).  But of poetry, of that which poets are subject to.

 

Spicer's poems after a certain point in his development are generally organized into small "books". Series or sequences is what they amount to but his term is book and it’s a good one.

    The period of the books also marks (hindsight remember) the beginning of poetry coming from the dead, from the alien, from the ghost, from the outside. The poet as transcriber rather than creator. Poetry as a practice of dictation.

    Here think of the scenes from Cocteau’s film Orphée in which the poet, Orpheus (Jean Marais) sits in the Rolls Royce of the Princess “Death” (Maria Casares) to listen, patiently and anxiously for the next transmission to come thru the car’s radio. It is only this radio that offers these poems and as a subject of poetry he has no choice. The world is on hold. It is time to take dictation. & of course it is the dead young poet Cegeste (Edouard Dermithe), killed in the opening scenes of the film, who is commanded by Death to transmit these messages to Orpheus.

    Death loves the poet.

 

In addition to the notion of dictation is Spicer’s idea of the “serial poem.”  Much could be said about what he means by serial poem.  Often he uses it to mean that the poem is written as a series of events, i.e. that he writes one line then the next, then the next (He speaks in the lectures some place about having to wait hours upon hours for the next line to arrive) instead of "conceiving" the poem and then writing different parts of it and revising—it’s tied up in with notion of "dictation" and that’s what probably gives the poems the feel at times of dialogue.

               A good example is in the “Imaginary Elegies” when he says at the beginning of one stanza:

 

Yes, be like god. I wonder what I thought

When I wrote that.

 

This references the ending of previous section:

 

                                                                              Poet,

Be like God.

 

Here, in a poem written before the transition from ‘one night stands’ (what Spicer called his poems before the serial poem idea took hold) shows clear indications of what he would only articulate as  dictation much later. & notice that what is written is not “I wonder what I meant when I wrote that” but “I wonder what I thought…” One might hear an echo here of “what was I thinking?” or consider that uncanny experience, when something other speaks thru you. Maybe you’ve never made a Freudian slip.

 

The opening two poems from Spicer’s book Billy The Kid [1958] exemplify his notions of serial poem and the outside from which the poems ‘come,’ concepts which tend to give the poems a feel of narrative argument games. 

 

 

                              1

 

         The radio that told me about the death of Billy The Kid

         (And the day, a hot summer day, with birds in the sky)

         Let us fake out a frontier — a poem somebody could hide in with a sheriff's posse after  him — a thousand miles of it if it is necessary for him to  go a thousand miles — a poem with no hard corners, no houses to get lost in, no underwebbing of customary magic, no New York Jew salesmen of amethyst pajamas, only a place where Billy The Kid can hide when he shoots people.

         Torture gardens and scenic railways. The radio

         That told me about the death of Billy The Kid

         The day a hot summer day.  The roads dusty in the summer. The roads going somewhere. You can almost see where they are going beyond the dark purple of the horizon. Not even the birds know where they are going.

    The Poem. In all that distance who could recognize his face.

 

 

                              2

 

A sparkling of gold leaf looking like hell flowers

A flat piece of wrapping paper, already wrinkled, but wrinkled again by hand, smoothed into shape by an electric iron

A painting

Which told me about the death of Billy The Kid.

Collage    a binding together

Of  the real

Which flat colors

Tell us what heroes

                              really come by.

No, it is not a collage. Hell flowers

Fall from the hands of heroes

                              fall from all of our hands

                                                                 flat

As if we were not ever able quite to include them.

His gun

             does not shoot real bullets

                                              his death

Being done is unimportant.

Being done

In those flat colors

Not a collage

A binding together,   a

Memory.

 

 

Dictation, the transmission of poetry to the poet. The poem collecting, sequentially in serial forms. If this were all there were to Spicer’s poetic practice, he would still be a significant poet, but there is something beyond these practices, something to do with the creation of a society or community of poets.&

 

Spicer's poetry requires this community of shared understandings, and throughout his life he actively cultivated poetic communities, the scene which developed around him is generally referred to now as the Spicer Circle. But it had many phases and partial names. For a time Duncan was still involved and together they conducted “The Magic Workshop” – this was Spicer’s last attempt at a more standard  pedagogical set up, after this, the scenes of his life, the bars he frequented and the park he hung out in become the locus of his poetry community.

    Another expression of this sense of community was embodied by the magazine Open Space which collected the work of Bay Area poets associated with the Spicer circle and was intended to stay local. Spicer infamously tried to forbid any distribution of Open Space outside of the poetic community of which he was a part. For one issue only enough copies were printed so that contributors could each have one. Although Spicer believed that poetry was necessarily an activity of the social rather than the individual, he didn't believe that poetry was destined to have wide social or political impact (at least within the present age).

    It is here that he’s clearly broken with the rugged individualist model of poetic creation. Duchamp’s comment that no masterpiece can be painted in isolation touches on the same truth that upsets the myth of the romantic creator.

 

Why did the pods come to earth?  Here I hear the Lacan’s famous line on desire; “Desire is the desire of the other.” Poetry as the poetry of the alien? The ghost?

    Who or what is transmitting these messages that the poet must transcribe? 

 

Enter the myth of Orpheus, stage left. Spicer was particularly taken with the detail that when Orpheus sang his songs, not just the people or the animals came to listen but the trees and rocks listened as well. But Orpheus’ songs are  not his own, they come from the gods. Spicer’s come from somewhere less clear.  His friend Robin Blaser wrote; “Spicer’s blasphemy, in fact, is directed against that thought which would protect the purity of God.”

 

In After Lorca the first of his books (properly so called & thus found in The Collected Books), Spicer is engaged in “translation” but he’s also exchanging letters, conducting correspondence with the then already long dead poet Garcia Lorca in which Spicer is the channel for both sides. The poems veer from being more or less what we think of as “straight” translation to being things quite unrelated to translation as generally conceived, though perhaps they maintain correspondence with the poems (in the same way that Spicer corresponds with Lorca?).

    Here Spicer is the cup from which Lorca drinks.

 

In the lectures given in the last year of his life, 3 in Vancouver, 1 in Berkeley, collected in the essential volume The House that Jack Built, Spicer offers various figures of the outside. It is a ghost or a spook, an alien or a Martian.  Something, persistently other and yet with which we are intimate, or perhaps extimate says it more truly.