"I write as a reader, not knowing what the author will say next."

October 23, 2014 2:53 AM

Russell Edson was a prose poet whose poetry had the "the sustained wackiness of old Warner Brothers cartoons." When he passed away this year Charles Simic wrote in appreciation of his work, as did J. Robert Lennon, whose article included two audio clips of Edson reading. In interviews, Edson spoke with the same mix of seriousness and humor as he did in his poetry. Here are two interviews, one with Peter Johnson [pdf] and another with Mark Tursi. But, of course, the important thing is his poetry, so here are a few examples: 1, 2, 3. And finally, here's a video of him reading (starts after the 9th minute). [Edson previously. I especially recommend reading the linked appreciation by Sarah Manguso.]
posted by Kattullus (12 comments total)

The evocation of such images always provokes the why. This being the age and circumstances of the text. An example would be a list of witnesses called before the HUAC committee. I believe Disney was scheduled for oct.30 in 1946 or 48 not sure but I have it somewhere. Well you can imagine the scenario: chairman duck smashs the oversized gavel, gesticulating to goofy to usher in the next witness.
Nice post kattus
posted by clavdivs at 3:35 AM on October 23, 2014 [2 favorites]

As I get older I appreciate poetry more and more, I suspect largely because I've collected enough diamonds from the rough. This is one such, thanks for posting it.
posted by Tell Me No Lies at 3:40 AM on October 23, 2014 [2 favorites]

...Kattullus. Doh!
posted by clavdivs at 3:43 AM on October 23, 2014 [1 favorite]

My favorite poet. The density of information in his work is just astonishing.
posted by sonascope at 4:09 AM on October 23, 2014 [2 favorites]

I adore Russell Edson, from the first time I encountered his poetry in high school, over a quarter century ago.

You

Out of nothing there comes a time called childhood, which
is simply a path leading through an archway called
adolescence. A small town there, past the arch called youth.
Soon, down the road, where one almost misses the life
lived beyond the flower, is a small shack labeled, you.
And it is here the future lives in the several postures of
arm on windowsill, cheek on this; elbows on knees, face in
the hands; sometimes the head thrown back, eyes staring into
the ceiling . . . This into nothing down the long day's arc . . .
posted by GoLikeHellMachine at 5:28 AM on October 23, 2014 [4 favorites]

My absolute favorite of his poems is 'The Reason Why the Closet Man is Never Sad'.

This is the house of the closet-man. There are no rooms, just hallways and closets.
Things happen in rooms. He does not like things to happen. . . . Closets, you take things out of closets, you put things into closets, and nothing happens . . .

Why do you have such a strange house?

I am the closet-man, I am either going or coming, and I am never sad.

But why do you have such a strange house?

I am never sad . . .

posted by winna at 5:29 AM on October 23, 2014 [2 favorites]

Beware of serious people, for their reality is flat; and they have come to think of themselves as mearly flat paste-ons. Their rage at the flatness of their lives knows no end…
posted by Hoenikker at 5:30 AM on October 23, 2014 [1 favorite]

Love Edson. Even as a super serious formalist meter-hugger back in the day I always admired the way his prose was unmistakably poetic and flowed better than many sonnets. Plus pulling off the amazing trick of being funny and absurd without being light at all. He's inimitable, but that doesn't stop most of twitter from trying.
posted by Potomac Avenue at 6:18 AM on October 23, 2014 [2 favorites]

Also my favorite poet.

So many times since the my days as an undergraduate poetry major when I was introduced to him, I have found myself in a situation where it just feels like life keeps throwing obstacles in my path, whether it's major life challenges or just one of those days where you're already running late and you hit Every. Damn. Red. Light, and I think to myself: "Oh my god, I'll never get home."
posted by drlith at 6:20 AM on October 23, 2014 [1 favorite]

Edson will never leave my mind and heart wholly on account of this poem.
posted by dlugoczaj at 9:28 AM on October 23, 2014 [1 favorite]

There was a man who found two leaves and came indoors holding them out saying to his parents that he was a tree.

To which they said then go into the yard and do not grow in the living-room as your roots may ruin the carpet.

He said I was fooling I am not a tree and he dropped his leaves.

But his parents said look it is fall.

The dad-isms thread is bleeding out into the rest of reality.
posted by Mr.Encyclopedia at 10:27 AM on October 23, 2014 [1 favorite]

This post is awesome. Thank you. I found him through a sale on the University of Pittsburgh Press's website. The cover of See Jack intrigued me. His art fits his poetry so perfectly.

Edson's phone number and address was available on some website or another, I think it was Poets & Writer's. I saved it to my phone, thinking I'd call him one day to thank him for his work or to see if he'd mind if I stopped by (just a quick 9 hour drive, no big deal) for a chat. This was about one year before he passed. I never dialed that number. I never even wrote him a letter. My one regret.
posted by GrapeApiary at 8:18 AM on October 27, 2014