Eva Salzman is that rare thing: a successful poet. Strike that -- a very successful poet, and in-demand. She has published and been published in multiple books, she teaches, and she performs. She's even gone on tour! I recently became acquainted with some of her poetry and was amazed at how lyrical but also earthy and raw it was. It's a powerful kind of writing that I hadn't encountered before and really loved.
Eva is a native New Yorker who has also lived and worked in England. She was kind enough to answer a few questions for Mr NYC readers about her career and experiences in both countries which has given her a great perspective on poetry, art, and life. Also, you can see Eva perform live tomorrow night, October 4, at The Cell (338 West 23rd Street, New York, NY 10011).
What inspired you to pursue a career as a poet and why do you think you've been so successful?
It’s always struck me as strange when the word “career” is used to describe a poet’s life. It’s not a career, nor a living. Not sure what it is. In any case, I never had the idea to pursue or become anything. I can’t recall a time when I wasn’t writing: in class when I was meant to be paying attention, in the car during long family trips. Also, success is relative. There’s so little money or glory in poetry. I tell my students how tough the life is, that much of it entails figuring out how to pay bills and doing boring secretarial stuff, never mind actually writing. Few could live in a permanent state of financial insecurity. I paint a really bleak depressing picture about the life figuring that any student serious about it will just ignore me. After all, I ignored me.
Your publications and works are almost too numerous to count. What are some of the poems, books, collections, shows, or other works that you're most proud of?
Someone once said that one is lucky to average maybe 2 or 3 really good poems in a single book. I don’t feel too proud. There are breakthroughs that thrill. I wrote a poem about the Holocaust called The Refinery which I didn’t count as among my best but that it holds up and lasts tells me it’s much better than I’d thought originally. I don’t know about being proud. Living in England has knocked out of me some of that NYC tendency to blow one’s own trumpet. It’s just SO not English. Because I’m fond of slender poetry volumes, I’m fond of second slender collection "Bargain with the Watchman", partly because of the lighthouse on the cover. It was published by Oxford University Press which a few years later killed its eminent hundred year old poetry list, despite widespread outcry poets and Oxford Dons, this widely reported in the media. That they carried on publishing dead poets only affirms my suspicion that generally people prefer their poets dead. Anyway, that book of mine is out-of-print but still available on Amazon. Most of its poems appear in "Double Crossing: New & Selected" published by Bloodaxe.
And, ok, I’m proud of my anthology "Women’s Work: Modern Women Poets Writing in English"(Seren) which was recently reprinted. One reason for my pride is that it was a mammoth project that took three years. Furthermore, it’s an excellent resource for courses with the long biography section and my in-depth footnoted introductory essay that is half quick sketch of the modern period and half rant, albeit a controlled and reasoned one. I do think it’s damn good. I can say this because many others have hailed it and you’re inviting me to be proud.
I’m proud of a two year Arts Council-funded residency in a UK prison because it was both the best and worst thing I’ve ever done. I’m also proud that the Royal Literary Fund thought me worth an extended residency in Warwick University and Ruskin College, Oxford. I’m proud of a piece I wrote for my composer father, Eric Salzman. Finally, I’m proud to have lyrics on CDs of singer/composer Christine Tobin with whom I’m performing this Wednesday. And I’m not just saying this because of that!
I was going to ask you "Do you have to be a romantic in order to be a poet?" But then I thought "What does being a romantic even mean?" So what is your definition of a "romantic", and are you one, and is that important to your poetry?
I think I am and it is but my definition of that word may not match others’. I’m also deeply cynical and wonder if this is the opposite side of the same coin.
On your tumblr page, I noticed that the poems you highlight ("After Verlaine", "The Buddhas of Bamiyan" and "Brooklyn Bridge") are lyrically intense and have what I'd call a sensual (but not a sexual) vibe. Is that a correct interpretation or is there something more to your work that I'm missing?
Oh let’s be honest. After Verlaine is filth (which fact, come to think of it, I’m proud of too). Given a Valentine’s Day commission that could be based on Shakespeare or Verlaine, I chose the latter precisely because women don’t write like this. Verlaine’s poem on which mine is ever so slightly based is even filthier. It goes on for pages too.
In any case, you’re description is accurate. However I do get frustrated that critics entirely overlook that I write frequently about nature. Many of my poems are political, albeit it often in an indirect way. The UK likes to pigeon-hole. Many critics latched onto the sex, while ignoring much else. As a country, the UK often doesn’t know what to do with me. Once I was put on tour with three writers, from non-English speaking countries: Africa, Egypt and India. Knowing what I do of the English I believe they needed to find this Brooklyn girls a fitting ethnic spot. To be honest, I do often feel less comfortable among the English than I do among writers caught in-between places, whose lives are defined by immigration, exile, otherness, despite my first passionate love being English literature, especially the 19th century novel.
I’m often pigeon-holed as a formalist too despite my never having exclusively written in form. The poets I rate most highly don’t identify with any particular school. They don’t write out of ideology. Academics are often the ones who feel compelled to create tags that quantify and categorize poets. Poets are particularly averse to being quantified or categorized.
Does a successful poem need to appeal to both the intellect and emotions (or more!) or should each poem be judged purely on its own merits?
One reason I love Louise Gluck is her writing out of a seamless confluence of the intellect and emotions. I’d be lying if I said I don’t like too cerebral writing. I’m too indiscriminate. The exception is the rule for me, if that makes sense.
You were a student as Stuyvesant High School in the 1970s with Frank McCourt, the author of "Angela's Ashes." What was he like as a teacher and was he a mentor to you?
Even to those who never studied with them he’s a legend. He’d taught his way through several tough schools before Stuyvesant, the last school where he taught. Since the students were math and science nerds they were motivated enough on their own. Even those who took his class as an easy ride – since he gave everyone 96% - were probably busing their asses in all other classes where, believe me, you had to bust your ass to survive.
Frank barely taught us, or that’s my (romanticized?) recollection. He told us stories about Ireland. It turned out we were his guinea pigs for his first book. He rehearsed on us the stories about Ireland which would later appear in Angela’s Ashes. On Fridays, he saved himself trouble but asking us to read our own writing. While many classes included other aspiring writers, mine did not. Much of the time when asked for volunteers only my hand shot up What a tiresome teen I was. A few years ago I interviewed him for the Guardian newspaper in the UK.
We're living in tumultuous political times, both in America and the UK. How do you, a resident of both countries, feel about Trump and Brexit and how are they affecting your work?
Because I’m in the USA Trump is my focus. In fact it’s nearly an obsession. I’m one of those casualties in need of a Trump therapy group. His loathsomeness repeatedly amazes me. My anxiety is redoubled by the number of people who simply don’t see the danger, nor saw him as enough of a threat to vote against him. I think many people can’t admit they were wrong. They have to defend him, or pretend it’s not all that serious. For anyone to rub it in makes them redouble down. They have to defend their decision at all costs. It’s incredible to me that the threat he poses wasn’t blindingly obvious. The idea of voting in a way that opened the door to him was unthinkable. But there he is and here we are, living out a dystopian story or movie which, if someone had written it, people would probably slam for being unbelievable.
You're from NYC and it appears that you visit a lot but what do you miss most about living here full time?
I miss England when I’m not there and miss here when I’m there. The way I describe it is that, although I’m a dual citizen, I’m not really either. One plus one, rather than adding up to two, makes zero. Instead one is part of another nation defined not by land but by the LACK of nation, by the feeling of exile and Otherness which, for the writer may be more of a blessing than a curse.
Has the city inspired your poetry at all? If so, how?
My first book came out of displacement and culture shock. My first years in the UK were spent in Tunbridge Wells which is almost a cliché of the ex-major stockbroker belt middle class southeast. It couldn’t have been more foreign to this born and bred Brooklyn girls. I remember South African ex-patriots despondent they no longer had servants or swimming pools. The longer I was absent from NYC the more I became a New Yorker. Distance allowed me to identify most profoundly with that which was furthest away. I am unmistakenly a New Yorker, with some British icing perhaps. I love Paris more than London but NYC is the center of the world. At a certain point, I just began to say this unashamedly, partly just to piss people off who think of Americans and New Yorkers as arrogant. Which we are a lot of the time.
Tell us about your upcoming event on October 4 at The Cell (338 West 23rd Street, New York, NY 10011) and anything else you'd like us to know.
I’m joining forces with Dublin-born vocalist/composer Christine for a mix of readings and music. Christine is known for setting poetry: for example, poems by W.B. Yeats and Paul Mulddon….so I’m in good company! She’s won many awards, including Best Vocalist at the BBC Jazz awards. Phil has led bands featuring jazz legends David Liebman, Mark Turner, Billy Hart and has also worked as sideman with Barbra Streisand and others. The evening will also feature the young UK bassist, already an established figure on the London scene, who has been awarded a full scholarship to attend Julliard.
But never mind all the accolades and awards. The venue is The Cell, a really great little theatre in Chelsea that’s worth checking out. Those guys are great musicians and we’re going to have fun because we always do. Plus the ticket includes wine.
Sounds great. Thanks Eva. Good luck!
