american political poetry in the 21st century - STIBA Malang
american political poetry in the 21st century - STIBA Malang
american political poetry in the 21st century - STIBA Malang
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50 AMERICAN POLITICAL POETRY<br />
emphasis). Ra<strong>the</strong>r than improve this poem’s community, “progress”<br />
and “gentrification” have “discolored” <strong>the</strong> neighborhood. The community’s<br />
new “ ‘immigrants’ ”—a term <strong>the</strong> poet puts <strong>in</strong> quotation<br />
marks to question its mean<strong>in</strong>g—are not poor blacks, Lat<strong>in</strong>as/os, or foreign<br />
nationals; <strong>the</strong>se “immigrants” are presumably wealthy, gentrified,<br />
white people. These wealthy “immigrants” suggest an urban renewal<br />
project prom<strong>in</strong>ent <strong>in</strong> city centers that often evicts poor, actual immigrants<br />
to make room for wealthy people who have no desire to live <strong>in</strong><br />
mixed communities. Rodríguez’s clever play on <strong>the</strong> terms “progress”<br />
and “immigrants” calls <strong>in</strong>to question <strong>the</strong> American doctr<strong>in</strong>e of progress<br />
as a means to prosperity for all.<br />
The manner <strong>in</strong> which <strong>the</strong> speak<strong>in</strong>g “I” first appears anchors <strong>the</strong><br />
poem’s experiential agency and its attack on “progress.” In <strong>the</strong> third<br />
stanza, <strong>the</strong> speaker po<strong>in</strong>ts to <strong>the</strong> rift between his past experience and<br />
his current identity: “It has been twenty years s<strong>in</strong>ce I roamed <strong>the</strong>se /<br />
ear<strong>the</strong>n streets. Com<strong>in</strong>g back, I am as new, alien, / except <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> old<br />
cemetery where many of my / friends are buried.” Here we see <strong>the</strong><br />
prom<strong>in</strong>ence of <strong>the</strong> speak<strong>in</strong>g “I,” a marker of many poems of experiential<br />
agency. Two decades later, Rodríguez’s version of this speaker is<br />
<strong>the</strong> walk<strong>in</strong>g dead as well as an “alien” whose community is found only<br />
amongst headstones. His memories are also primarily of loss, as <strong>the</strong>y<br />
call forth “so many funerals” and “revenge, / as thick as mud.”<br />
Fur<strong>the</strong>r, none of his friends died of natural causes, but ra<strong>the</strong>r by<br />
drugs, gangs, police, suicide, car crashes, and “diseases / science conquered<br />
long ago.” The speaker’s experience is marked by loss,<br />
displacement, and isolation, but how <strong>the</strong> speaker contextualizes <strong>the</strong>se<br />
memories matters most.<br />
In <strong>the</strong> f<strong>in</strong>al four stanzas, <strong>the</strong> speaker struggles with memories of<br />
dead friends and with rage produced by justice long-denied. When he<br />
says self-consciously, as if to himself, “I have carried <strong>the</strong> obligation to<br />
<strong>the</strong>se names. / I have honored <strong>the</strong>ir voices / still reverberat<strong>in</strong>g<br />
through me,” <strong>the</strong> speaker is “not simply a phantom manipulator of<br />
words but a confused actual person, caught <strong>in</strong> a world of catastrophe<br />
that <strong>the</strong> poem must somehow mirror and transcend” (Ostriker<br />
“Beyond Confession” 35). This “confused actual person” is <strong>the</strong>n a<br />
composite of <strong>the</strong> lost voices of his fallen friends that course through<br />
his body; <strong>the</strong> speaker seeks both to reflect <strong>the</strong>se voices and to use<br />
<strong>the</strong>m to fight for justice for <strong>the</strong> dead. When Forché expla<strong>in</strong>s her reasons<br />
for writ<strong>in</strong>g <strong>poetry</strong> about what she witnessed <strong>in</strong> El Salvador, I hear<br />
<strong>the</strong> speaker of “Then Comes A Day”: “In my own life, <strong>the</strong> memory of<br />
certa<strong>in</strong> of those who have died rema<strong>in</strong>s <strong>in</strong> very few hands. I can’t let<br />
go of that work if I am of that number.” For Forché, this process