Writing a few days after the point, I shall recall what transpired and why.
It is Friday morning, just after my enjoyable group meeting with Arai Sensei. My fiancée, Anna, is set to arrive in the city around 7:45pm, just after I get out of my first day @ Poets House. I had prepared to leave early, then remembered that my shift starts at 3pm. As with anything big like this, there are those initial days when there is a war inside over the being overprepared and the being underprepared. In a couple weeks I'll have a system down. I'll know the train schedule (not that I don't already...but more deeply), I'll have a more structured snack prepared, and I'll know the places around my building well enough to know where I can and can't sit down and make a phone call.
For now, It's a day of exploration. A friend once said her goal in life is to always be in a continual state of wonder. Currently that would be a scary notion, so I will go into today with a confidence that does not impede my capacity to be ignorant and curious.
Today I packed a pb&j sandwich, not knowing whether or not or when I would get a break (my shift is only four hours long anyway). I brought this week's Poetry Workshop reading, the moderately-sized W. S. Merwin collection (Vol II), for the train ride in and out. I stuffed my big Main Street Books bag with implements for cold weather and a little journal on which to take some notes. I walked the fifteen minutes to Fleetwood station and got straight on trains that bring all the working people into Grand Central. I didn't get to read much Merwin (page 24 of 130); there's a good deal of density in his poetry that tends to make his shorter poems more poignant. Here's one of my favorites:
SAVONAROLA
Unable to endure my world and calling the failure God, I will destroy yours.
I have decided it an opportunity to head into the city a bit early so that I can avoid the $2 fee for the subway ride and take an old fashioned walk from Grand Central to work. People call Manhattan big (and I suppose all things considered it is), but really in the center of the city the span I walk day by day is a harmless trek. It provides me an opportunity to immerse myself in the pathos of the city, that way I feel more comfortable at work in the city.
I called an old friend on my way to the Broadway offices. He's in Georgia now and we don't get to talk very often, so we usually spend hours on the phone. The call made the trip much shorter, and by the time I got to 794, Poets House current headquarters, 3pm was approaching and our vibrant conversation was being poked by the feeling that I probably shouldn't be 2 hours late. So, I went inside and got started.
The elevators in this normal apartment building are strange to me. The small lobby has two halls: the one on the right (the wrong one, which I took last time) leads to two elevators which service floors 7 and up. The left hall leads to two other elevators which service 1-6. Poets House is on the 5th floor, pretty much at the end of a twisting hallway of many other business offices. I take the left hallway this time. The stairs are not a working strategy as some doors don't seem to have handles on the inside!
My day starts in the same room of the small office area in which I met Mike Romanos for my interview last week. On my way in I meet Lee Briccetti briefly and shake hands. *(whisper) Lee is the big name, the premier representative for Poets House; in official terms, she's the executive director here at poets house. I am absolutely speechless in gratitude and awe of her ability to remain devoted so to the idea of the House*
A little bit of history here. Elizabeth Kray, a very important name in poetry correspondence of the 20th century, and Stanley Kunitz, life-long poet and former poet laureate of the U.S., co-founded Poets House inspired by a similar library in London. Though both founders have passed, their legacy is being upheld with determined, believing hands. I should gather numbers on their stock.
I have met a number interesting people on my first day, though I can't say I know perfectly what each one of them does. So, for now, I will give a synopsis.
Mike Romanos is the leader of most aspects of the organization that don't involve business input. He's a practical guy with an interest in genuinely-made music (and mix-tapes; he's in a club).
There was someone working opposite Mike whose name I think is Katelyn, or some variant of that. She asked me a bunch of questions, all good-natured, most just to get to know my character. I considered it an honor, though Mike insisted her rambling was a violation of the unwritten rule on ice-breaking.
Stellan also sat in this room, a bit off to one corner, most of the time donning headphones. He was a bit younger in appearance and seemed to be spending his time managing audio files. He mentioned his interview experiences with certain poets and writers numerous times, so I figure that to be one of his main occupations. Poets House does have an audio collection of readings and interviews, though I honestly do not know much about it. Stellan will prove a source of interesting insight.
I met a slightly more quiet, perhaps simply introspective, individual named Zack. He sat at a desk out in the main part of the offices and seemed to be doing the same style of work as I was doing. He would come in from time to time to grab a stack of new books from the shelves and carry them back to his desk to sort them out and plug them into the database that was being compiled for our showcase. Perhaps I will soon end up doing similar things. He used to attend Sarah Lawrence College and knew Matthea Harvey, my long distance don, well while there, so we had a few things to talk about (in fact we met briefly at Matthea's book party back in October, so we discovered), but other than that, our interaction was less this day, since his office was further away.
Finally, I met what Mike called his "secretary," Jennifer, who also worked in the main office area. Technically I suppose she was a secretary of sorts, being the first in sight upon a visitor's entrance, but I am pretty sure Mike was being comically hyperbolic. Later that day, Jennifer came into our side room and declared that she had won an award (cash prize) for being an emerging urban poet. Wow! When I asked when we'd receive copies of her work she replied with a tactful and kind paraphrasis of 'never.'
So my job today was fairly simple, and I'm glad it was. I can build a confidence that if the work done today was 'difficult,' then I'll have the opportunity to relax and put more effort into the subtleties.
First, I combined a number of literary monthlies and other publications probably from the last 5 years into larger, more mobile boxes. I labeled each one with my horrible hand-writing and a purple pen only to be relieved to see that whoever had been doing the job before I came had near chicken scratch. Anyway, I was told the other day I had beautiful handwriting (for a guy).
Next was the more permanent job of organizing books, by publisher, that had already been checked in by Zack, onto shelves on another side of the room. Publishing companies can be pretty confusing at times, so Mike printed out a list of the current tally to help me find certain names. Some publishers have sub-divisions that confuse their main name (the most common on our display now seemed to be Ecco, which is a subset of books from Harper Collins). There are yet other publishers that have series names that sometimes sound very much like publisher names and are often printed on the book binding. These are a huge misrepresentation and I spent most of my time checking the first few pages of books to make sure of the actual name.
A good deal of books in our collection were from self-published authors, some being as simple as construction paper-covered, thread-bound chapbook-style books. I'll try to take pictures of some of them soon. In our currently small collection there are a number of brand new books by brand new writers, and then there are a plethora of literary criticisms, biographies, retellings, and translations from older names (including a hardcover issue of the Iliad!).
Before I write a novel, I shall close up this thread soon. I left work a few minutes early at a comfortable stopping point. Mike mentioned that if I ever wanted to borrow a book from our collection, just let him know. I may take advantage of that; my conference work this semester is heading in a very modern direction, so I need to start looking at the state of the poetry world today.
Anna was over an hour late, not her fault of course. Her bus hit a number of pockets of traffic. We spent the week at the Met with an old high-school friend, and otherwise making tasty food and of course, award-winning cookies (or so my suitemates exclaimed).
I am looking forward to hearing from all who read. I've never done something like this before. I love telling long stories, but I'm not-so-much an expert of keeping them entertaining. So, let me hear your suggestions somehow. If you'd like other media or if you think I should focus on certain specific aspects of the work, let me know. For this first time, I tried to cover all bases; subsequent entries should be less broad.
I'll post another thread Friday night if I can. For now to all: be well!
an artistic shot of the empty bookcases. we did the job in less than an hour.
these are the boxes we put them in. stages:
one of the more popular books in the showcase.
