Vermont Magazine | Page 21

He knew a path that wanted walking; He knew a spring that wanted drinking; A thought that wanted further thinking; A love that wanted re-renewing. Nor was this just a way of talking To save him the expense of doing. From “A Lone Striker” by Robert Frost W hat makes Vermont such an appealing state to writers? According to Timothy Consedine, the regional economist for the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics’ New England Information Office, a dispropor- tionate number of writers and authors live in Vermont relative to other states in the country, ranking it within “the top five states in terms of concentration of jobs within this category.” Poets tend to hide in the open in Vermont without much worry of being recognized or harassed, which makes most of them feel right at home. In 2010, when I interviewed Galway Kinnell, I asked him why he had moved to Sheffield, Vermont from New York in 1962; he responded, “the silence.” A list of eminent Vermont poets betrays Vermont’s embarrassment of literary treasures, both past and present: Robert Frost, Robert Penn Warren, Galway Kinnell, Rudyard Kipling, Grace Paley, Wyn Cooper, Martha Zweig, Louise Gluck, Ruth Stone, Mary Ruefle, Hayden Carruth, David Budbill, Ron Padgett, Ellen Bryant Voigt, Major Jackson, Dennis Nurkse, Paige Ackerson-Kiely, Leland Kinsey, Jay Wright, Ben Bellitt, Karin Gottshall, Verandah Porche, Jean Connor, Walter Hard, Geof Hewitt, GennaRose Nethercott, FD Reeve, Jim Schley, Jane Shore, Dan Chiasson, Cleopatra Matthis, Reuben Jackson, Cynthia Huntington, Jay Parini, Rosanna Warren, Baron Wormser, Diana Whitney, Peter Richards, Stephen Cramer, Julia Randall. Vijay Seshadri, Sydney Lea, David Hinton, Daisy Turner, Lucy Terry Prince, Stephen Sandy, Bill Corbet, James Schuyler, David Huddle, Greg Delanty, Julia Alvarez, Bianca Stone, Jody Gladding, Tim Mayo, Ben Pease, Kerrin McCadden, Elizabeth Powell, Julia Shipley, Neil Shephard, John Ashbery, Tim Mayo, Alison Prine, Castle Freeman, Partridge Boswell, Mary Jane Higginson, and Norman Dubie, along with many others. When my predecessor as poet laureate, Sydney Lea, and I ventured to edit an anthology of contemporary Vermont poets in 2015 titled Roads Taken: Contemporary Vermont Poetry, we discovered more than 90 poets who had lived in Vermont for at least five years and published one or more books of poetry with a non-vanity press. But then we discovered 12 more poets who met our criteria a year later, prompting us to put out a second edition. I’m sure, if our publisher, Green Writers Press, is willing, we will need to update with a third edition in the not-too-distant future. It’s impossible to appreciate Vermont’s poetry without first appreciating the most salient features of Vermont’s historical character, namely, its denizens’ self-re- liance, their perseverance, their mental toughness, their ingenuity, their creativity, their courage, and perhaps most famous- ly, their contrariness. Although Vermont has existed as a state since 1791, it wasn’t until 1928 that President Calvin Coolidge coined the phrase “brave little state” as a moniker for lauding Vermont’s intrepid heritage, particularly the Green Mountain Boys’ surprising victories over the British and Hessians during the Revolutionary War, the early settlers’ godlike clearing of old-growth forests (more than 80 percent of the state’s woodlands) for grazing and farming, the prodigious construction of myriad stone walls, and the state’s first legislators’ attempt under the leadership of President Chittenden to declare Vermont a sovereign republic rather than join the union as the 14th state. So, it is no surprise that several of Vermont’s poets would rise to the occasion of capturing the dramas of their fellow Vermonters’ fiercely inde- pendent, larger-than-life enterprises, as well as the empyreal beauty of Vermont’s landscape. But this would take a while, a century, in fact, before a truly great poet would emerge with the gift to memorialize Vermont’s “bravery” in poems destined to outlast their own epoch. This poet was, of course, Robert Frost, who divined the reality of Vermont’s hardships, ecstasies, griefs, loves, and terrain in poems that have become ingrained in New Englanders’ psyche, as well as readers of poetry around the world. Vermont claimed Frost as its first poet laureate in 1961, despite the fact that he had also lived much of his life in New Hampshire and titled his 1923 Pulitzer Prize–winning book, New Hampshire. In his long title poem for this book, Frost concluded with these characteristically ironic lines that appear to betray his preference for Vermont over New Hampshire as the state of his choice for “living”: It is restful to arrive at a decision And restful just to think about New Hampshire. At present I am living in Vermont. In his introduction to Roads Taken: Contemporary Vermont Poetry, Dan Chiasson, an accomplished Vermont poet himself and the poetry critic for The New Yorker, wrote this trenchant observation about Frost as the instructional seer of the Green Mountain State: “Frost’s poems are the great rural instructional manual for our neck of the woods. His influence is everywhere…which so often take ‘nature’ not as an idyllic refuge, but a site of careful, strenuous, and repeated steps of action.” VTMAG.COM HOLIDAY 2019 19