{"id":80214,"date":"2014-11-29T16:22:10","date_gmt":"2014-11-29T21:22:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=80214"},"modified":"2014-12-01T11:47:42","modified_gmt":"2014-12-01T16:47:42","slug":"mark-strand-1934-2014","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2014\/11\/29\/mark-strand-1934-2014\/","title":{"rendered":"Mark Strand, 1934\u20132014"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"attachment_80215\" style=\"width: 610px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/11\/strand-m.gif\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-80215\" class=\"wp-image-80215\" src=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/11\/strand-m.gif\" alt=\"strand-m\" width=\"600\" height=\"635\" \/><\/a><p id=\"caption-attachment-80215\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">A manuscript page from \u201cA Piece of the Storm,\u201d a poem from <i>Blizzard of One<\/i>.<\/p><\/div>\n<blockquote>\n<p>When I read poetry, I want to feel myself suddenly larger \u2026 in touch with\u2014or at least close to\u2014what I deem magical, astonishing. I want to experience a kind of wonderment. And when you report back to your own daily world after experiencing the strangeness of a world sort of recombined and reordered in the depths of a poet\u2019s soul, the world looks fresher somehow. Your daily world has been taken out of context. It has the voice of the poet written all over it, for one thing, but it also seems suddenly more alive \u2026 \u2014Mark Strand, <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/interviews\/1070\/the-art-of-poetry-no-77-mark-strand\">The Art of Poetry No. 77<\/a>, 1998<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p>Mark Strand died today at eighty, we were sorry to learn. When <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/interviews\/1070\/the-art-of-poetry-no-77-mark-strand\">Wallace Shawn interviewed him for <em>The Paris Review <\/em>in 1998<\/a>\u2014a year before he won the Pulitzer Prize for his collection <em>Blizzard of One\u2014<\/em>Strand described his relation to death: \u201cIt\u2019s inevitable. I feel myself inching towards it. So there it is in my poems. And sometimes people will think of me as a kind of gloomy guy. But I don\u2019t think of myself as gloomy at all. I say ha ha to death all the time in my poems.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>And death was arguably Strand\u2019s great theme\u2014few poets have written more acutely or more movingly about the chasm at the end of life. Which is not to say that he was excessively dour or bleak; the sense of isolation in his work is often leavened by light and feeling. Strand saw poetry as a humanizing influence in an increasingly inhumane world. He <a href=\"http:\/\/inscape.byu.edu\/2013\/09\/17\/interview-with-mark-strand\/\">told <em>Inscape<\/em><\/a> a few years ago: <!--more--><\/p>\n<blockquote>\n<p>If every head of state and every government official spent an hour a day reading poetry we\u2019d live in a much more humane and decent world \u2026 Poetry delivers an inner life that is articulated to the reader. People have inner lives, but they are poorly expressed and rarely known. They have no language by which to bring it out into the open. Two people deeply in love can look at each other and not have much to say except \u201cI love you.\u201d It gets kind of boring after awhile\u2014after the first ten or twenty years \u2026 When we read poems from the past we realize that human beings have always been the way we are. We have technological advancements undreamt of a couple thousand years ago, but the way people felt then is pretty much the way people feel now. We can read those poems with pleasure because we recognize ourselves in them. Poetry helps us imagine what it\u2019s like to be human. I wish more politicians and heads of state would begin to imagine what it\u2019s like to be human.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p>His poem \u201c<a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/poetry\/2022\/after-our-planet-mark-strand\">After Our Planet<\/a>,\u201d from our Winter 1992 issue, is a perfect read for the occasion. Strand seems to be speaking from the afterlife in it, from a place of wondrous stillness, inaccessible to us:<\/p>\n<blockquote>\n<p>I am writing from a place you have never been,<br \/> Where the trains don\u2019t run, and planes<br \/> Don\u2019t land, a place to the west,<\/p>\n<p>Where heavy hedges of snow surround each house,<br \/> Where the wind screams at the moon\u2019s blank face,<br \/> Where the people are plain, and fashions,<\/p>\n<p>If they come, come late and are seen<br \/> As forms of oppression, sources of sorrow.<br \/> This is a place that sparkles a bit at 7 <small>P.M.<\/small>,<\/p>\n<p>Then goes out, and slides into the funeral home<br \/> Of the stars, and everyone dreams of floating<br \/> Like angels in sweet-smelling habits,<\/p>\n<p>Of being released from sundry services<br \/> Into the round of pleasures there for the asking\u2014<br \/> Days like pages torn from a family album,<\/p>\n<p>Endless reunions, the heavenly choir at the barbecue<br \/> Adjusting its tone to serve the occasion,<br \/> And everyone staring, stunned into magnitude.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n<p>Read the whole poem <a href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/poetry\/2022\/after-our-planet-mark-strand\">here<\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>When I read poetry, I want to feel myself suddenly larger \u2026 in touch with\u2014or at least close to\u2014what I deem magical, astonishing. I want to experience a kind of wonderment. And when you report back to your own daily world after experiencing the strangeness of a world sort of recombined and reordered in the [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":38,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[27],"tags":[2186,10672,20537,1132,4992,11989,165,7519,5242],"class_list":["post-80214","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-in-memoriam","tag-death","tag-dying","tag-in-memoriam","tag-interviews","tag-mark-strand","tag-obituaries","tag-poetry","tag-the-art-of-poetry","tag-wallace-shawn"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO Premium plugin v25.4 (Yoast SEO v25.4) - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>Mark Strand, 1934\u20132014<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"In memory of the American poet, read his poem \u201cAfter Our Planet.\u201d\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2014\/11\/29\/mark-strand-1934-2014\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Mark Strand, 1934\u20132014 by Dan Piepenbring\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"November 29, 2014 \u2013 When I read poetry, I want to feel myself suddenly larger \u2026 in touch with\u2014or at least close to\u2014what I deem magical, astonishing. 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