David Melnick’s “Hasty Fields” reminds me of how image schema can set up large areas of connotation within a given work of poetry. The poem, on the face of it, seems relatively abstract, including (and somewhat early for this) elements of found language focused on the materiality of the language itself. Yet I read this as palpably a portrait of
Cordier was a career diplomat, an American who was a founding executive of the United Nations (and who served as an informal or backchannel emissary for the JFK administration to UN officials & perhaps others) who had gone on to become the dean for the School for International Affairs at Columbia University, a program that was a flashpoint for anti-war efforts in the 1960s, targeted by SDS as an instance of Defense Department money on college campuses (and very possibly a conduit into careers in the CIA). The 1968 student protests at Columbia were among the most prominent in the country that year, leading (for example) to one sit-in where Life magazine took a two-page photo spread of a student sitting at Columbia University President Grayson Kirk’s desk, feet up, with (if I remember correctly) one of Kirk’s cigars. That student was poet David Shapiro, one of Melnick’s friends in
A name on this order stains every other word of the poem, much of which appears to be a veiled discussion of the downsides of privilege. Today the phrase has become opaque, but in its time, Cordier’s presence here tilted everything. The
I’m not proposing, for example, that one should read this (or any) Melnick poem with the same sort of exegetical excavation methods Hugh Kenner brought to the work of Pound & Joyce, because that clearly is not where Melnick is going with the poem. But, rather, how in a field of otherwise abstract language certain interpretations are privileged, foregrounded, over others. Thus, “hasty fields,” the phrase, means what? The image I carry with me is of student-police confrontations on the claustrophobic quad at