Poetry for All Transcript for Episode 12: James Merrill, ÒChristmas TreeÓ Abram: Hello, IÕm Abram Van Engen, an English professor at Washington University of Saint Louis.Ê Joanne: And IÕm Joanne Diaz, an English professor at Illinois Wesleyan University.Ê Abram:Ê And this is Poetry for All. Joanne:Ê Today, Spencer Reece is joining us to talk about James MerrillÕs beautiful poem ÒChristmas Tree.Ó Spencer Reece is the author of _The ClerkÕs Tale_ and _The Road to Emmaus_ . He is a recipient of fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation and the NEA, a Witter Bynner Fellowship from the Library of Congress, the Amy Lowell Poetry Traveling Scholarship, and a Whiting WritersÕ Award. While a Fullbright Fellow in Honduras, he taught poetry to the girls at the Our Little Roses orphanage, and you can find their work in the anthology he compiled called _Counting Time Like People Count Stars_. His forthcoming memoir is titled _The Secret Gospel of Mark_. He is an episcopal priest who works in Queens, New York. Welcome, Spencer. Spencer:Ê Thank you. Abram:Ê ItÕs a real treat to have you on this podcast with us. And Spencer, when we invited you to be a guest on this podcast, you suggested that we read a poem together by James Merrill called ÒChristmas Tree.Ó Can you just tell us a little about why you chose this poem? Spencer:Ê Well, meeting James Merrill was a very important moment in my tiny, little biography. I had been, you know, before _The ClerkÕs Tale_ was published, I was 41 years old, and I did not go through an MFA program or world, so I didnÕt know a lot of people in poetry, and ten years before Louise GlŸck picked _The ClerkÕs Tale_ for the Bakeless Prize, I met James Merrill through letters. I wrote him a fan letter and he responded right away, and it was just...it was like hearing from Elvis Presley or something, you know?Ê Abram and Joanne: [Laughs] Spencer:Ê It was like I had heard from the Gods. And correspondence ensued; that was the time of letters, when people wrote letters. And then he came to Minneapolis where I livedÑlittle, humble Minneapolis, where I livedÑand I think itÕs accurate that I was, you know, I was like nervous, like my knees were knocking when I met him, and I wanted him to like Minneapolis, and he gave a reading, and then I met him once more. And then in 1995 he died, so it was a short period of time that I knew himÑI think it was about five years, all toldÑand his death was a shock to me. This was the height of another pandemic which was called AIDS. And the most poignant part of my interaction with James MerrillÑto me today, as a person who is almost 60 years oldÑis that he knew he was sick, he knew he was dying, and he went ahead and helped me anyway, and I had no conception that he knew that he was dying because he had kept it a great secret. There was a lot of shame still, around being gayÑI know thatÕs hard for anybody listening to this thatÕs, like, under 30 to believeÑbut there was a lot of shame. And he published a memoir at that time. He was very nervous about it. He was very nervous about his poems being collected into gay anthologies...And, so, this poem is so touching to me because he wrote it right at the end of his life. ItÕs not obfuscating or impenetrableÑsome of his work is, you know, deeply elegant and rich, but not that easy. And he didnÕt always want his poetry to be easy, he told me. He loved Wallace Stevens and he loved that Wallace Stevens thought poetry should be, you know, just a little bit difficult to understand. But this poem is not difficult to understand. HeÕs writing it at the very end of his life. ItÕs like Jesus in the last week of his life; and what Jesus says in the last week of his life is also very poignant because he knows whatÕs coming.ÊÊ So he picks this very simple formÑwhich is a shape poem, or a concrete poemÑthatÕs in the shape of a Christmas tree. The poem is in the voice of the tree, so if I told you that thereÕs a poet out there who wrote a poem that was in the shape of a Christmas tree, and was in the voice of a Christmas tree, the odds of the poem being really bad would be pretty high.Ê Abram and Joanne:Ê [Laughs] Spencer:Ê It just, even today, Christmas is coming and God only knows with the pandemic that weÕve got going on right now, what kind of, Christmas weÕve got in store for us. All I know is that weÕve got to be just so kind, as kind as we possibly can be to each other. And this man was so kind to me, and he didnÕt need to be.Ê Abram:Ê With all that said, would you mind reading the poem for us?Ê Spencer:Ê Okay. So ÒChristmas TreeÓ by James Merrill.Ê [Please see ÒChristmas TreeÓ on the Poetry Foundation website: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse?contentId=39363]Ê Joanne:Ê You know, IÕm so interested in something that you said SpencerÑbefore you read the poemÑwhich is that, you know, initially, if you hear that someone has written a poem in the shape of a Christmas tree and is speaking as the tree, it might sound laughable, you might not take it seriously. And yet, itÕs incredible. ItÕs a beautiful poem, and heÕs engaging in a long and varied tradition of visual poetry that poets have tried all over the planet for centuries, right? IÕm thinking of George Herbert, who, you know, I know you love him as a poet, and Su Hui, who was a Chinese poet who wrote a great poem that is written as a puzzle, that can be written and read in seven thousand different waysÑthatÕs incredible. So, there have been so many poets that have innovated with these forms...I wonder if you could talk about how you see the form working as you read these lines?Ê Spencer:Ê You know, I mean, he did so many formsÑsestinas, um, he did every possible form he could find under the sun, and all the different meters he could think of, and he loved Auden, Auden was a master metrician. You know, we donÕt talk about these fellows so much these days, but I hope we will maybe more again soon someday. So, itÕs poignant to me that heÕs picking this because itÕs so simple. HeÕs not picking terza rima, or a sestina, or...no, heÕs going for the simplest thing under the sun. And, um, I think when youÕre in those moments of duress, impending death, you know, you start to think in a simpler way. And so thereÕs something beautiful that comes together for him here. I knowÑso thereÕs pressure in looking at this form poem thatÕs in the shape of something because when you look at a painting in a museum, you immediately say, ÒI like this!Ó or you go to the Prado and you say, ÒOh my GodÑAmazing!Ó But when you look at a poem, you canÕt really do that. You have to, like Joanne, you were saying, you had to read this poem for two or three weeks, go over it, metabolize it, then come back to it. ItÕs a differentÉ Joanne:Ê Mm-hm. Spencer:Ê ...itÕs a different mechanism in the brain. So, in a shape poem, itÕs bringing that, those thoughts, together, I guess. Abram:Ê I mean, the other thing I notice about just the fact of this shapeÑso you start with the star at the top, of course. And the first two lines are: ÒTo be / Brought down at last.ÓÊ And of course, as we move through the poem, weÕre moving down through the tree, through the trunk at the end of the tree, and into the ground at the end, which is, of course, what is happening, what the poem is about, in effect. To be brought down and to be sent into the ground. And so, the shape of the poem is also reenacting the content in that sense as well.Ê Spencer:Ê Totally, and yeah, somewhere along the way you realize itÕs a Christmas tree, so itÕsÉ Abram:Ê Mm-hm.Ê Spencer:Ê ...itÕs cut off. But one thing I noticed looking at this poem is that it begins with the verb Òto be,Ó and if you go back and reread the stump of the poem, itÕs missing the Òto beÓ verb. So the very verb of existence, Òto be or not to be,Ó which the poem opens withÑby the time we get to the trunk, heÕs using sentence fragments and heÕs removed. The Òto beÓ verb should be in the stump, but itÕs not, itÕs gone. ItÕs disappearing as weÕre reading it.Ê Abram:Ê One of the places where I notice the rhymes are not quite perfectÑand I think itÕs to the sort of incredible subtleties and relationship between form and content hereÑis at the very end, in that stump. So, if you take a look at the very beginning of the stump at the line right before it, it ends on the word ÒtodayÕsÓ which, of course, rhymes with the last word Òpraise.Ó And then the next line downÉ Spencer:Ê Oh yeah.Ê Abram:Ê ÉÒDusk room aglowÓ rhymes with the second-to-last line: ÒStill to be so poised, so.Ó ÒAglowÓ and ÒsoÓ rhyme. But then, in between those two things, you have four sort of half-rhymes, almost off-rhymes: ÒTimeÓ and Òlight,Ó and then ÒlitÓ and Òfoot.Ó And so, what we see happening thereÑor what I see happening in the trunk, thereÑare these rhymes that are setting up as kind of bookends of the trunk that regain the balance, or, to use his word there, the ÒpoiseÓ at the very end is regained. So the off-rhymes sort of throw you off balance, and then the rhymes return to regain that poise at the very end.Ê Spencer:Ê ThatÕs brilliant, I didnÕt...I had not noticed that! But youÕre right, youÕre totally right.Ê Joanne:Ê I think...something as I hear you talkingÑand, you know, as we look at the poemÑI think IÕm so moved by this poem because I canÕt remember anything IÕve read in a long time that is so good at articulating the kind of acceptance of death, in the face of death, that this poem presents. Right? So if you look at that, right before that stump as you were describing it: ÒNo dread. No bitterness. The end beginning.Ó And, the end has already begun at the very beginning of the poem, which is to sayÑthere are some phrases in this poem that feel very relaxed to me, and very accepting. And I just donÕt know how he crafted these sentences, but the ones that are sort of at the beginning of the poem: ÒI knewÑof course I knewÑ / That it would be only a matter of weeks, / That there was nothing more to do. / Warmly they took me in, made much of me, / The point from the start was to keep my spirits up. / I could assent to that.Ó ThereÕs a way in which these lines...I mean, the voice is so present, I feel so close to the voice. This is...I donÕt know this person, this voice thatÕs speaking, but it feels so at ease with what is being bestowed upon him. Abram:Ê Just to tie it to the end, it feels so poised and so receptiveÉ Joanne:Ê Yes. Abram:Ê ...which is where the poem brings you to a close: ÒStill to be so poised, so / Receptive.Ó Spencer:Ê Well, and if you had met him in real life, he was very poised and he was very receptive. He was so unusual in the strange and tiny world of poetry because he was the heir to the Merrill Lynch...um...His father was Merrill... Abram and Joanne:Ê [Laughs] Spencer:Ê ...of Merrill LynchÊ Joanne: The end! Abram and Joanne:Ê [Laughs] Spencer:Ê So, itÕs funny, itÕs like his parents invented the door knobÉ Abram and Joanne:Ê [Laughs] Spencer:Ê I think he famously said, you know, he didnÕt need to go to work. And so Merrill was inspiring in that he just devoted everything to poetry. It was his life.Ê Joanne:Ê Yeah... Abram:Ê Can I ask you to, reflect? Joanne and I were talking before about how the poem ends, and I keep coming back to that ending because I find the ending so startling in so many ways. And IÕm sort of curious if you could tell me what...what is your reaction to this ending? Because, for me when I read it, itÕs a giant surprise. And you have that word ÒmilagrosÓ in the middle which means, literally, ÒmiraclesÓ or ÒsurprisesÓ in there; these charms that get hung on the tree. And when we come to the end, itÕs been a poem of: yes, receptivity; yes, ascent; yes, poise; and so on...but also melancholy and lament. And the last word of the poem is Òpraise.Ó So, IÕm sort of curious how you read that turn to ÒpraiseÓ at the end of this poem? Spencer:Ê Well, I love that thatÕs the last word, and...itÕs what IÕm...I feel like IÕm called to do organically and unconsciously in everything I do in art. His life was not without challenges, and tragedies, and betrayals, and disappointments, um...Nobody gets out of here without having some difficulties, I donÕt think. But, I mean, thatÕs what makes me weep is that word.Ê Abram:Ê Yeah.Ê Joanne:Ê And even though this is not a religious poem in any sort of theological or dogmatic way that James Merrill has written, for it to end on ÒpraiseÓ in this way, it is...it does seem to be speaking back to poems of praise over the long history of literature that he knew so well, no? Spencer:Ê Well yes, and I mean...the Christmas tree is a Christian symbol, and he was a lapsed episcopalian, and it was all in there. And the end of the poem is, um...to recall and to praise, and if youÕve ever been in the liturgy of the Catholic or the Episcopal Church, I mean, thatÕs what you say in the liturgy every Sunday. I mean, I donÕt think he would be that explicit, and he wasnÕt religious, but I am religious, and I am a Christian, and I am a PriestÑI love this poem thatÕs not exactly religious, but is seeking for those things at the end of life.Ê Joanne:Ê Hmm. Abram:Ê Mm-hmm. Well with that saidÑand with this sort of sense of the shape of the poem, and the movements of the poem, internal rhymes, things to listen for and look forÑuh...can we hear this poem again?Ê Spencer:Ê [Spencer reads ÒChristmas Tree.Ó] Joanne:Ê So good.Ê Abram:Ê Thank you so much.Ê Joanne:Ê Thank you so much, yeah.Ê Abram:Ê Thank you to Spencer Reece joining us this week. For more information on James MerrillÕs work, as well as a link to see this poem, please see the Poetry for All website at poetryforall.fireside.fm.Ê Joanne:Ê And please remember to follow us on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram.Ê Abram:Ê Thank you for listening. Joanne:Ê Thank you, Spencer! Spencer:Ê Oh, thank you for doing the great work youÕre doing! Abram and Joanne:Ê [Laughs] Spencer:Ê I love this!Ê Joanne: Ê[Laughs] Abram:Ê Thank you.Ê Ê