Merry Christmas

As a Christmas present to the blogosphere, I’m posting a poem from my second book, Time Capsules. It was originally composed on a bitter cold Christmas Eve in 1996, when I was visiting my parents. Lilith, the black lab/border collie mix, who is mentioned in the poem, died several years ago. She was a constant companion for over 14 years on late night or early morning walks.

This year, Iowa has relatively warm weather and our chances of snow are slim. I’m here with my family and our new dog, Zinneke. Though much has changed in the last 15 years, the dark nights of deep winter and the clear air or Northern Iowa, especially walking out into the countryside late at night, still brings a special kind of clarity.

Christmas: Osage Iowa, 10:00 p.m.

I take 10th Street out of town. The only life
on the road is a snowmobile, a couple of cars,
my dog Lilith, and me. It’s ten below
with a light snow. The wind is still tonight,
making the cold bearable. Snow underfoot
and the slightest breeze in the pines create
the only sounds. Then just beyond
the city limits all stops. Around me, empty
white fields and tiny flakes descending
gather up a little stray light to illuminate
the dim landscape. There, half a mile off
the lighted trees at a farmhouse add color
to the stark white of yard lights, muted
now by snow. A car’s red tail lights
glide along the highway headed north.

This stillness is what I’ve traveled two
thousand miles for: the clean, crisp
subzero air, the light invading the dark
to clear my soul. It only lasts a moment,
then the wind picks up and Lilith wants
to play, dashes at me, herds me back
toward home. We run back and forth along
10th Street, stop to savor the cold night,
check the scent of pheasant in the windbreak,
search for a trace of the near-full moon
through thin clouds. The snow obscures
everything even as it makes everything
brighten. The turning point of the seasons
remains elusive, and yet this moment is
enough to take me through another year.

Favorite Poem, Persia

One of the neat things about the internet is that it’s full of surprises. The other night, after stumbling on the Wall Poems site, I searched a little further and came across a copy of my poem “Persia” on a site called Iranian.com — there, Soosan Khanoom has a blog of Favorite Poems, and s/he reprinted mine. I suppose I should be upset that they didn’t request permission before reprinting, but this is a poem from my first book, Landscapes and Architectures, and it was originally published in The Literary Review. It’s had a life in print, and it’s nice to see the poem crop up in a new environment. The blogger did at least give me credit as the author of the poem, though it would be nice if s/he also credited the magazine as first publisher or link to my blog or mention my book. Still, I’m glad someone liked the poem, and maybe a few more people will have read it, thanks to the site. S/he did mention that the poem was nominated for a Pushcart, which is true (it didn’t win, but the nomination was an honor), though they did list the year wrong. The poem was written for a good friend from grad school, published in The Literary Review in the Spring issue of 2001, and nominated later that year.

Wall Poems

Leave it to the Dutch to create neat graffiti. In Leiden, they have printed poems on walls in beautiful fonts, like this poem by Paul Snoek, “Een zwemmer is een ruiter,” which appears on the wall of the public pool, De Zijl. It has apparently been there since 2003. Now there is a website that catalogs the wall poems, which were inscribed between 1992 and 2005, and which I stumbled upon this evening while trying out Google’s Webmaster Tools and then searching for links to this blog. I didn’t actually find a link to this blog that time, but did find a blog that referenced the poem and my translation of it (posted on the website) from Hercules, Richelieu, and Nostradamus, published by Green Integer Press in 2000. Most of the website is in Dutch, but most of the poems seem to have translations in English and other languages. If you’re interested in seeing pictures of a Dutch city or seeing the way these poems have been printed on buildings or in interior spaces, check it out.

Broccoli Casserole Recipe

It has turned cold again in Mississippi. Okay, I know it’s not really cold, even though we had a chance of snow last night and it’s supposed to get down below freezing tonight. That’s nothing for most of the country, but for Mississippi, it seems like winter is knocking at our door, and it’s a good time for some comfort food.

That, and having most of the ingredients on hand, got me to make a Broccoli Casserole. Now, I know the traditional recipe probably calls for Cream of Mushroom soup or something, but that isn’t something we keep in the cupboard, so I decided to improvise. We’re trying to cut back on using canned foods, anyway — they tend to have too much salt and too high levels of BPA — so even though we don’t use much canned food, we try to find fresh alternatives whenever possible. That’s where this recipe comes in. I worked from memory and intuition to concoct a recipe that didn’t involve soup. My apologies in advance, since I tend to cook without measuring much, so there’s a little guess-work in the proportions.

Ingredients for 3-4 servings as a main dish:
Brown Rice (1 cup)
Water (2 cups)
1/2 Onion
1 clove Garlic
Broccoli (about 1 head, plus the stem, peeled and sliced)
Spinach (about a cup)
Olive oil (2 Tbs or so)
Four (1/4 cup)
Milk (a cup or so)
Buttermilk (a cup or two)
1 egg
1/4 Lb Cheddar Cheese, grated
Salt and Pepper to taste
Pecans, ground for topping (or bread crumbs, if you prefer)

Cook your rice as directed. For Brown Rice, use 2 parts water for 1 part rice and simmer for 45 minutes on low until done. Or use leftover rice if you’ve got some (about 2 cups would be good).

Preheat oven to 350, 400, or 450 degrees (depending on how soon you want to eat!)

Sauté onion and garlic in olive oil. Add Broccoli stems and sauté, then add Broccoli florets. Let simmer briefly, then add 1/4 cup flour and stir so it mixes with the oil. Add a little extra oil if necessary to make the flour mix in. It should have a paste-like consistency.

Add a cup or so of milk to make a thick white sauce. Turn down the heat so the mixture is barely simmering, then add 1-2 cups of buttermilk to make a creamy white sauce. Be careful not to let the buttermilk get too hot, as it will separate if it comes close to a boil. That’s not the end of the world, but the consistency is nicer if you keep it under a boil as it mixes in the white sauce. Once it’s mixed together and begun to thicken up, turn off the heat.

Add the rice, egg, spinach, and most of the cheddar. Add salt and pepper to taste. Stir together. Grease a 9×13″ baking pan (or whatever size you have that this mixture will fit in). I used butter, but you could use oil or skip this step. It only helps keep the casserole from sticking. Sprinkle remaining cheddar cheese and chopped nuts or breadcrumbs on top and bake for 20 minutes or so until the casserole begins to brown slightly on top and bubble.

Last night I served this with a side of steamed, buttered carrots and rutabaga (we had half of one that needed to be used, and it was very good with the carrots). It made a filling meal, and brought back memories of comfort food. Baking on a cold night helped warm the kitchen, as well.

Making the white sauce instead of using a can of soup was pretty easy, and the texture was perfect. You wouldn’t have to use buttermilk, if you don’t have it on hand, but we keep it around for making pancakes, and it gave the sauce a slightly tangy taste that I like. Substitute milk, if you don’t have the buttermilk. It hardly took me any more time to make the white sauce than it would to open a can of soup and add water until it was the right consistency. And by making it myself, I know more about what went into what I was eating.

That’s the best way to control your calories (which I never bother to count) and keep unwanted salt, sugar, fat, preservatives, and other chemicals from creeping into your diet without your knowledge. If you cook it yourself, you’re less likely to overdo it with salt, sugar, or fat, even if you do add some for flavor, and if what you cook is fresh, there’s no need for preservatives or chemicals from the canning process. Do wash your vegetables, and whenever possible, buy locally grown and/or organic food. It’s less likely to have been mistreated before you got it.

From the time I started the rice until the time I took the casserole out of the oven took about an hour and a half. Of course, I got to do other things for about half an hour while the rice was simmering, and you wouldn’t need any of that time if you use leftover rice (make a little extra next time!). Making the sauce and baking the casserole took 45-50 minutes. While the casserole was in the oven, I made the side dish and helped clean up. It’s a pretty easy recipe, and you could substitute just about any vegetables you want, if you don’t have broccoli or spinach. Usually there’s no spinach in broccoli casserole, anyway, I just added it for an extra vegetable. If it doesn’t turn out exactly the way mine did (or if mine doesn’t turn out the same next time), it will still be good.

Black Friday / Cyber Monday Ambivalence

Those who know me, know I’m not much of a shopper. When I do buy things, I usually look for a good deal, so you might think I’d be into the big sales on Black Friday or Cyber Monday (now a weeklong event at some online stores). But I always feel a little ambivalent about it. I sure as heck don’t want to fight the crowds for late-night Thanksgiving pre-Christmas deals. Now one of our favorite retailers gives a good rational for skipping the cyber deals. Fair Indigo on their blog, note that free shipping is never really free. Companies either pay themselves, raise prices to cover the difference, or take it out of the workers’ salaries by paying less for their products. I’m all for saving a buck, but there are times when I’d rather pay more for something I care about, like fair trade products (from stores I trust). So this shopping season consider paying a little more for things if you can buy them from a small business you trust.

Twice Baked Bread

This is not a recipe I plan to replicate anytime soon! In fact, I’d probably classify it as a major mistake, but it turned out pretty good in the end, so I thought I’d write about it.

The mistake was to put the bread dough I was making in the oven to rise, and since it was a cool morning, to turn the oven to 200 to let it warm up a bit. I do this all the time, but this time, since I was also making breakfast, I forgot all about it for over an hour, until it was time to punch down the dough. Then I realized I’d never turned the oven off. What I had was far to warm for the yeast to still be living (it dies off at about 100 degrees), and I thought I’d have to just throw it all away and start over.

But I’m stingy and didn’t want to waste all that flour needlessly, so I let the dough cool down a bit, then kneaded it until it was just warm to the touch, about hand temperature. Then I mixed up a little yeast in a little water, and added flour and a touch of molasses to help it get started. I took a little of this at a time and mixd it into the dough by spreading the paste on top and kneading until it blended in. Then I took some more.

Needless to say (pun intended), the dough got a lot of kneading this way. And when it rose in the bowl after an hour or so, I knew it would be all right. I made it into loaves, let it rise in loaf pans until it was as big as I wanted — this took a little longer than usual, and I could have let it go a bit longer for a lighter loaf — then I baked it as normal: 425 degrees for about 35 minutes. The bread came out with a great texture (probably due to the excess kneading) and everything was fine.

Like I said, I doubt I’ll try this again anytime soon, but if I do make the same mistake again, I might try salvaging it again. It might help to note that, though the top was a little like bread when I discovered my mistake, most of the dough was still pretty doughy. If it had baked through, I probably would have just cut it and tried to eat it! But since it still had mostly the consistency of dough, I thought it was worth trying to salvage what I could out of my mistake.

Do Grad Programs in English require the GRE Subject Test in Literature?

A question from a colleague and an advisee got me looking around last night for information on English literature graduate programs. The question was whether the GRE Literature in English subject test was still necessary. I initially gave my standard response — it depends on where you want to apply. Fewer and fewer schools require it these days, but many still do.

But that answer felt too imprecise, so I decided to try to quantify it somewhat. How many programs really do require the subject test anymore? What I learned was that my answer was still pretty good, and about as accurate as I can be without crunching the numbers for every program out there. So if you want the short answer, you can stop reading already! But I did learn a few things…

The current cost of the GRE general test is $160 (for those of us in the US who take it on a computer). The current cost of the subject test is $140. So as you might guess: a) applying to grad school is expensive, and b) the subject test nearly doubles your cost. Then there’s the cost of reporting. You can send your scores to 4 schools for ‘free,’ but you have to know which 4 schools you want to send to when you take the test, so you have to make your mind up early or wait to take the test until closer to the deadline. It costs $23 to have your scores reported to another school. Add in application fees, and you see why applying to grad school isn’t cheap. ETS does offer some fee reductions for qualified test takers.

Incidentally, I looked at several schools and also realized that they’ve pushed their application deadlines up. Three of the ones I examined now have December 1 deadlines. This may be the result of electronic submission of application materials and/or internal routing of those materials. I also saw a few January 15 deadlines. Seniors, watch out for these deadlines, and Juniors, get started early.

The most revealing and in a way disappointing site I found was the MLA, which has a Guide to Doctoral Programs in English (and other foreign languages). There is a lot of useful information here, but the Guide hasn’t been updated since 2005, so it is a little dated. MLA needs to work on an update (and maybe they are, since the previous update had been completed in 2001). Maybe MLA could come up with a system like AWP, that has an annual update of information from each Creative Writing program in their Guide — of course they rely on us to update our information each year, so it could be out of date for individual programs who let the ball drop.

Anyway, according to MLA’s dated Guide, in 2001 43.8% of doctoral programs required the literature subject test along with the general GRE test. By 2005 this had dropped to 41.5%. If this trend has continued, then you might expect 38.5% (or so) to require the test now. As I looked around, though, I saw a number of schools that had previously required the test and now explicitly stated that the subject test is no longer required. My sense is that more and more graduate programs have determined that the subject test in literature is not a good indicator of performance in their programs. More than likely this is due to the the changes in the discipline. Specific content is less of an emphasis in most undergraduate English programs. Students are exposed to a wider array of content, though what they have read (or should have read) is harder to predict. As the canon has grown, it is harder to test.

Frankly, this is a good thing. It was already the case when I was an undergraduate. I didn’t know anyone who felt the literature subject test was easy or was a fair assessment of their background in English. The test felt random and arbitrary. If you were lucky to be tested on material you happened to have covered, you could do well. If not, you could be out of luck. Fortunately, I did okay, despite getting a lot of questions on Russian and French authors I hadn’t read or prepared for. And fortunately, even by that time, though most programs required the test, many did not take the results too seriously. As I think about the freedom our students have to take a variety of courses, I think it is a very good development that the GRE subject test in literature is becoming less important.

Rather than knowledge of specific texts, students are expected to be well-versed in interpretive strategies. This kind of knowledge is difficult to gauge with a multiple choice test or even with a written test. (Interestingly, GRE has included a written analysis section on the general test, but even that would be hard to do on the subject test.) Grades, a writing sample, and letters of recommendation are really the better way to determine whether a student has what the graduate program wants in its students. Arguably, a standardized test won’t tell you much, though the general test may tell enough about whether the student can hack it in grad school and provide a baseline for comparison. The literature subject test does not appear to fulfill that function for most grad programs today.

However, many of the most prestigious programs do require it. Some require it of their PhD applicants but not of their MA applicants (though I don’t know if you could get in through the back door by applying for the MA and then applying for the PhD program later and avoid taking the subject test that way). One school said they require it on one part of their page, but then didn’t list it with the requirements on another part of the page. A couple of schools said the subject test is no longer required, but it is recommended. I have no idea what that means. If it were free, I would take it on your recommendation, but if you want me to pay $140 for a test, you’d better require it. Of course, if one school does require it, and you take it for them, then there may be no harm in reporting your score to at least 3 other places.

So my original advice, that it depends on where you want to apply, is probably still the best. If you want to apply to grad school and not take the subject test, you can. That choice will limit the range of schools you can apply to, but there are many good programs who will accept you without that score. If you want to be considered by the top schools in the country, then you will probably still need to pay your money to go through that rite of passage. Study (like crazy) and then take a deep breath and hope that the questions you get are ones you can answer…

International Writing in the South

In my day job, I teach World Literature, among other things, so I was excited this year to direct the Eudora Welty Writers’ Symposium and include a number of international writers. The Symposium normally focuses on Southern writers, so I tried to find writers who had been living and writing in the South for quite awhile, and to find Southern writers whose international experiences had been influential. And of course, I invited a few other transplants who are Americans new to the South or Southerners who’ve lived outside the South.

The group that came together was a lot of fun. Everyone had good experiences in the South to share, and everyone had challenges. I was glad that Judith Ortiz Cofer, in her keynote address, talked and read a poem about the ‘invisible’ migrant workers who have become a bigger part of Southern life. There always have been migrant workers, of course, but now more and more of them are Latino, and it is important to acknowledge that the culture of the region is changing.

Arab-American writer, Pauline Kaldas; African (now Mississippi) writer, Sefi Atta; Chinese (now Mississippi) poet, John Zheng; and Indian (now Texas) writer Latha Viswanathan reminded us just how international the South has become. Ethnic communities exist, not just in the big cities, but also in small towns like Columbus — our audience included a broad range of cultures, too, in part because the Mississippi School for Math and Science brought its students, too.

It was good for those students (and us) to be reminded that their communities have a voice in Southern culture (and by extension in American culture). The South is no longer a monolithic society with one majority and one minority. Soon there will be no clear majority group at all, once the largest group has less than 50% of the total population. Working together and understanding each other will become that much more important.

Ann Fisher-Wirth and Michael Smith reminded us that international experiences have always been important for writers. And Michael Kardos, Minrose Gwin, Joy Castro, and Randall Horton represented the range of cultures within the South.

All in all the weekend was a stimulating and throught-provoking experience And we all had a lot of fun.

Welty Symposium 2011 Begins

One of my favorite parts of my day job is directing the Eudora Welty Writers’ Symposium. Each year we bring a dozen authors to campus, and tonight I had dinner with our first to arrive, Joy Castro, author of The Truth Book. We had a delightful conversation, and in typical Columbus style, ran into newspaper publisher and fellow Southsider, Birney Imes, at the Thai restaurant. We talked about literature, teaching, colleges, writing, Columbus, the W, Nebraska, you name it. And of course, we talked some about what she could expect over the next few days.

Joy came in early as our Common Reading Initiative author. All of our freshmen read her memoir, The Truth Book, in their Introduction to College class, and she’ll be meeting with honors students and the CRI students at a couple of sessions. She’ll also meet with a Human Sexuality class that read her book, and then she’ll get to participate in the full symposium when that really gets underway on Thursday.

It’s always nice to meet the authors and get to spend a little time with them before the events really get started. Of course, I have lots of details to attend to (checking on books that haven’t arrived, making sure everything is okay for the auditorium, printing out maps and instructions for the authors, getting the books where they need to go, etc., etc.). There’s a lot of organizing that goes on behind the scenes, and I hope it goes off as seamlessly as possible, so no one really notices all the effort behind the scenes.

That’s the way it should be. We try to make the authors as comfortable and happy as possible, then let them read and entertain. We try to reach as many potential audience members as possible and let them come and be entertained. It’s kind of like being the cruise director on a ship. If you’re successful, you’re practically anonymous. And if people remember you, it’s probably because you messed up! So here’s to anonymity and a very successful few days. The authors that have graciously agreed to come read and talk about their work are all fabulous. The audience is great and deserves to enjoy some great literature. Soon, if it hasn’t been done already, it won’t get done, and I’ll be able to sit back and enjoy the readings, too. As long as the sound system works and there aren’t any minor crises to deal with (which there always are). Still, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

In Memoriam: Sam Moon

One of my favorite teachers and mentors passed away this month. Sam Moon of Knox College was 89. I knew him, when I first came to Knox, as the founder (with Robin Metz) of the creative writing program. He let me in my first poetry workshop (though I didn’t have the prerequisite) and taught me Poetry Translation (though the class overlapped with an Introduction to Fiction Writing class that I also needed to take). After his retirement, he worked with me on an independent study in translation. His thoughts on poetry, on language, and on life were highly influential.

An avid swimmer, Sam was working on a long, fragmentary, meditative poem on swimming when I knew him. He was also at work on a translation of the Tao Te Ching, the last I knew. I was glad to see him any time I was back at Knox, as long as he still remained in Galesburg. After he moved away and I moved further away and couldn’t return to my alma mater as frequently, we lost touch, except for a few letters and emails. And yet, Sam has often been in my mind as a role model of a poet, a teacher, and a human being. So I was not surprised, when the Knox College article about his passing quoted the style manual he wrote for the school in 1962.

…Moon described style as “an unending process” aimed at achieving wisdom.

Style is a ubiquitous fact of life. No man escapes working in one medium or another. No man avoids forming attitudes and values. No man is without some kind of style. No man lacks a mask — a public face — worthy or unworthy of his possibilities. We must discriminate in these matters. We must ask ourselves what we can do, where we can go with the styles we have…

While it would be disastrous for us to embrace our culture wholly and uncritically, it would be equally disastrous for us to cut ourselves adrift from it…

In that unending process which is style, the ultimate goal, attained only rarely, by men of the greatest genius but the goal toward which we all may struggle, is the style of wisdom.

— Samuel Moon, Mortar Board Convocation, Knox College, March 1962