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There Was a Young Man Named Obama
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The president-elect's new poet-elect is the right woman for the job.
This is excellent good news that there will be an inaugural poem on January 20. The peaceful handing over of power every four (or eight) years is a miracle that really ought to be celebrated in verse. The trick, of course, is getting verse that rises to the occasion.
The poet of the moment will be Elizabeth Alexander of Yale (Boola, boola! Sorry, couldn’t resist). She is an appealing, unaffected and altogether becoming lady of 46, a professor, mother of two, an intimate friend of the P.E. (president-elect) and F.L.E (first lady-elect), and a one-woman Who’s Who of the African-American establishment. Her father was an advisor to Lyndon Johnson and secretary of the Army during Carter’s administration. Her mother teaches African-American history at George Washington University. Her brother was a senior advisor to the Obama campaign and serves on the transition. Zero degrees of separation there.
I’ve written speeches for politicians, but I cannot imagine the pressure of having to come up with poetry to be read aloud in front of everyone on the planet.
My hat is off to Professor Alexander. I’ve written speeches for politicians, but I cannot imagine the pressure of having to come up with deathless staves of poetry to be read aloud in front of more or less everyone on the planet. In the (extremely) unlikely event I should ever be called upon to poetize in such formal circumstances, you will find me curled up under my bed in the fetal position, surrounded by crumpled scraps of paper scrawled with There was a young man named Obama… Or, more likely, down at The White Horse Tavern trying to finish myself off à la Dylan Thomas, whose last recorded words, upon knocking back his 17th straight whisky were, “I believe that’s a record.”
Ms. Alexander is carrying this heavy mantle as if it were made of sheerest pashmina. She told Dwight Garner of the New York Times that she is “not overly nervous…. ‘By the time you are reading the poem, the real work has been done. If I ever get nervous before getting up to read, I look at the poem and say, “You’re done. All I have to do is let you out”.’”
That’s a lovely image. Michelangelo, who carved his poetry in marble, said that his sculptures were already there inside the stone—he merely set them free.
For inspiration, Alexander told another reporter for the Times that she has been thinking, amongst other sources of inspiration, of W.H. Auden’s “Musée Des Beaux Arts.” It’s one of Auden’s greatest poems, in which the speaker stands in front of Breughel’s painting, “Icarus.”
About suffering they were never wrong,
The Old Masters: how well they understood
Its human position: how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting
For the miraculous birth, there must always be
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating
On a pond at the edge of the wood….
The record of poems read out at presidential inaugurations is a mixed one. As the Times reminded us, at JFK’s inaugural, the 88-year-old Robert Frost was blinded by sun and benumbed by cold, and thus couldn’t read the poem he had specially prepared, and valiantly dipped into memory, reciting his (actually superior) “The Gift Outright.” The best, perhaps, that could be said of Maya Angelou’s “On The Pulse of Morning,” given at Clinton’s first inaugural, was that it was a masterpiece of politically correct inclusivity, managing to flatter every ethnic and special interest group in the American quilt, with the possible exception of Kyrgyzstan-Americans.
How Rich People Smoke Pot
Paul Schrodt is a writer living in New York City. He has contributed to New York magazine, Radar, and Esquire.com.
Justice Clinton?
As vice chairman of Public Strategies and president of Maverick Media, Mark McKinnon has helped meet strategic challenges for candidates, corporations and causes, including George W. Bush, John McCain, Governor Ann Richards, Charlie Wilson, Lance Armstrong, and Bono. McKinnon is co-chair of Arts & Labs, a collaboration between technology and creative communities that have embraced today's rich Internet environment to deliver innovative and creative digital products to consumers.
One Hell of a Speech
Christopher Buckley's books include Supreme Courtship, The White House Mess, Thank You for Smoking, Little Green Men, and Florence of Arabia. He was chief speechwriter for Vice President George H.W. Bush, and is editor-at-large of ForbesLife magazine. His new book is Losing Mum and Pup, a memoir. Buckley's Daily Beast column is the winner of an Online Journalism Award in the category of Online Commentary.
The Audacity of Oops
Christopher Buckley's books include Supreme Courtship, The White House Mess, Thank You for Smoking, Little Green Men, and Florence of Arabia. He was chief speechwriter for Vice President George H.W. Bush, and is editor-at-large of ForbesLife magazine. His new book is Losing Mum and Pup, a memoir. Buckley's Daily Beast column is the winner of an Online Journalism Award in the category of Online Commentary.
Too Big to Succeed
Christopher Buckley's books include Supreme Courtship, The White House Mess, Thank You for Smoking, Little Green Men, and Florence of Arabia. He was chief speechwriter for Vice President George H.W. Bush, and is editor-at-large of ForbesLife magazine. His new book is Losing Mum and Pup, a memoir. Buckley's Daily Beast column is the winner of an Online Journalism Award in the category of Online Commentary.
bizeeb
No offense to the woman, but Maya Angelou's "poem" at the first Clinton inaugural was absolutely horrible; I was embarrassed on her behalf. It was cringe inducing.
msadesign
Oh, Christopher! you are SUCH a card!
SamThornton
It's not fair, Mr. Buckley. You're going to force me to buy one of your books. Or more. Great writing.
PatriceFitz
I was curious, and went back to read Maya Angelou's poem. I found it moving, earthy, inclusive, and very much in her voice. I can remember watching her read it for the first time.
There are all kinds of poets, and all kinds of poems. That's the beauty of the form. I hear in Angelou's "On the Pulse of Morning," classic African-American forms of oration as well as echoes of her personal background on the urban streets.
It's no surprise that her work sounds different than that of the standard white European male examples we studied in school.
We all own poetry.
WestWoman
Sorry, Patrice. Nice PC try. But "On the Pulse of the Morning" isn't classic anything. It's just bad. It is no coincidence that Maya Angelou had a line of Hallmark greeting cards. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings was good. And that's it.
pencilpusher
Hey, I read this whole blog and never found the rest of the Obama limerick promised in the title.
magicman
Awesome writing. Poetry being like the Indus, commerce and flow, source of abundance, even for mighty foes; who move northward having, being stung by the wasp, left the hive and spun in retailiation. So close. A little shoe chucking does a man good every now and then. Set sights higher, reload and fire. He is there, the evidence of it is all around you.
shortputt
Er, ah, hey, when they gonna' wake up and let you back into the fold at NR. I was the one who wrote to them and told them what a horrid mistake they were making (I was also the guy who wrote the glowing review of Supreme Courtship on the B & N Website). As for the poem, Humpty Dumpty will do just fine. Seriously, this web site is fine and all but I still turn to the last page first when the NR arrives and, well, gee wiz, it just ain't the same. Some of us miss you a lot.
C. Nelson, Jr.
The Old Buddin House
c/o General Devilery
Sardinia, SC
(Occupied CSA)
ScottRose
If Rick Warren or any of his followers reads Elizabeth Alexander's poem "Venus Hottentot" before the inauguration and figures out what it means, and we do not then see some sort of ghastly Philistine uprising to prevent culture, that, possibly, will be change I can believe in.
tomfarr
Is it time we had a formal, defined position of White House Sycophant? A modern Pindar to celebrate our President with
extravagant odes?
slemay
The difficulty has always been to find the White House non-sycophant.
Mr. Buckley, well done, again.
And you've sent me scurrying--maybe more of a shuffle these days--back to reread some more Auden, always one of my favorites.
I read you; I read Lewis Lapham. That keeps me balanced and literate.
magicman
It's real sad to hear the news that Bill Galvin is closing Saint Maggies. More than any other indicator, this one proves that our problems are greater than simply a mere recession. I did think to avoid all of this, but I do have to tell you that looking at all of this now is a very surreal experience; not unlike screaming for years at your kid not to walk on the railroad tracks, only to hear one day that he finally got mowed down by a train. The diamond district in New Delhi is no better off. Dominoes are still falling...even in oceans far away.
And yet no one understands that contrary to 'outcome' is very different than 'contrary to purpose'. That's not very grown up. I do see your point. The idea of Conservatism is that things should 'work'. Failing that, a Reform Gear must be initiated. There is no other Gear. I wonder if you will hear past 'ego' this time. I'm not optimistic, so surprise me here and do something 'right'. The Hurricane of our destruction has now arrived, being completely of our own making. If you cannot see that, it can only be because your 'ego' did the thinking for you, instead of your mind.
Alas, the poor Sisters of Saint Margaret's Benign, prove worthy when wincing, rulers not far behind, for the price that they pay in forming 'intrinsic good'. A scorn before others, a PC delight, as Hurricanes come crashing sending everyone in fright.
nodrama
Why not high art form of poetry, the limerick? It's in the classical tradition of Red Foxx.
At no charge, I provide the starting lines for two stanzas --
Stanza 1: There once was a man named Obama ...
Stanza 2: Obama has a fan named Biden ...
You don't learn this kind of poetry at Yale, but it's useful nonetheless.
rittrohs
I was ten on the day of President Kennedy's inauguaration. As I watched on the black and white TV screen, the new president, seeing poet Robert Frost struggling against the winter sun's glare, rushed to the podium to shade the manuscript with his top hat--the only use that topper had that day. JFK preferred to be hatless.
cvbnyc
Christopher Buckley, I want to thank you for making me laugh. I am a lifelong studier of words poetic and I appreciate your writing as much as I do the musings of my heroes, Byron, Shelley and Keats. Keep on writing and never take this stuff too seriously. In the words of the immortal Bard "You rock Dude.". Wait a minute, That wasn't Shakespeare. Maybe Spinal Tap?
Thank you.
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