Thursday, October 4, 2007
Let be be finale of seem
At one point in my life, as an earnest master's degree candidate in English literature, the Wallace Stevens line which serves as headline for this post, made a lot of sense to me. It's from a favorite Wallace Stevens' poem, The Emperor of Ice Cream. Now, I see it's filled with unsolvable mystery, like much of Steven's poetry. And I wish I could've written it.
I was born on the same date, Oct. 2, as Wallace Stevens, and I worked for some time at an insurance company. There, I think, the coincidences end.
Stevens, who is considered to be a great American poet, lived and worked in Hartford, writing his dense and beautiful poetry as he walked back and forth to his office at the Hartford Life Insurance Company.
On Saturday, I'm celebrating my birthday with a "surprise" dance party with a bunch of friends. On Saturday, the Friends and Enemies of Wallace Stevens will be celebrating his at the Hartford Public Library, where dancing will likely not occur.