Noir poetry from Les Edgerton at Bouchercon
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| Les Edgerton |
With kind permission from the author and from Blue Moon Literary and Art Review, where the piece first appeared, here is "My Father and Robert Frost":
One day I found a volume of poetry by Robert Frost in the prison library at Pendleton and checked it out.© Peter Rozovsky 2013
Back in my cell, I read: Home is the place where, when you want to go there, they have to take you in.
When I made parole, I called my mom to tell her my good news. I found out that my dad had never read Robert Frost.
At least not that poem.
Labels: Bouchercon, Bouchercon 2013, conventions, Les Edgerton, poetry
posted by Peter Rozovsky at 9:55 PM
11 Comments:
Oh, that's great. It works just fine on its own, but it would also make a great start for a story.
That had not occurred to me, but you're right. The author says this is his only poem; he's written a mess of novels. So perhaps this set-up will find its way into a story.
An emotional kicker is that he says the poem is autobiographical.
To be expected from the pen of Edgerton, the dark humorist. There's a feeling of chuckling malaise in his novels that can only be interpreted as "noir" in its most primitive form, that the universe is laughing at your inevitable fate. I think, deep down, Edgerton is laughing, too.
"Chuckling malaise" is good. And the man does plenty of chuckling in person. So, my only recourse is to read some of his fiction, which I have not yet done.
Thanks for repubbing this, Peter. This is a poem that means a lot to me. And, it is 100% autobiographical. I was severely abused by my father all my life--physically, emotionally, mentally--and when I made parole, he refused to let me return home. That made things kind of hard as you have to have a place to live before they'll release you. My sister came through for me. The kicker to all this is that two years ago, at the age of 68, I found out my "father" wasn't... I'd had suspicions and convinced one of my sisters to do a DNA test with me and found out we weren't related (my "father" and me). When confronted, my mother had no choice but to confess, but she still won't tell me who my real father is. Some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed...
And, this is in some of my work. My memoir, ADRENALINE JUNKIE, is looking for a home and it's in there.
Thanks again, for publishing it and I'm delighted you liked it, sir.
Les's poem was a highlight for me at the conference, and without a doubt the single most powerful thing I heard read. It works on multiple levels.
Thanks, everyone! I'm just stoked that you liked it!
"Some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed..."
Les: That's another fine kicker of a line. Some people would have used a stronger word than days. Lives, maybe. All it does is make me want to read more.
Dana, at first I thought the poem could do without its last line. Then I decided that the line, by undercutting the powerful one that went before, suggests that life is more complicated than an explosive emotional conclusion. Now I quite like that last line.
Peter,
I have exactly the same reaction. kast week I thought the last line took away a little. Now that I've had a chance to think about it, and read it again here in its entirety, i agree with you: the last line makes it work even better.
Right. That last line makes the father a potentially more interesting character.
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