It's My TV….It's My Peanut Butter

Would we drink coffee with Robert Frost?

Kristy: Yes. I don’t love Robert Frost, but I definitely like Robert Frost. And there’s something to be said for being an American writer from the 19th century that I like, because there aren’t many of them. I don’t have any books of his poetry laying around, or any strong desire to own any, but when I do run across his poetry I enjoy reading it. (But not that “two paths diverged in a yellow wood” one. Like most American school children I was beaten over the head with it too often. And I still resent an elementary school teacher telling me that my interpretation of it was wrong.) Even more, I enjoy teaching it. It’s straightforward enough that you can pick up any one of his poems, read it, and know what it’s about. I appreciate his use of gentle rhythm and rhyme and simple language. All qualities I think are underappreciated by literary scholars and writers alike. And on the other hand, there’s enough depth to his poetry that if you’re in the mood to go in and pick it apart there’s plenty to work with. So yeah, I’d like to buy the man a cup of coffee and just have a chat with him. I’d like to know what he thinks about contemporary literature–he’s described as a predecessor of modern poetry, so how does he feel about how it ended up? I’d like to know if he really, REALLY meant it when he said there was no deeper meaning in his poems or if he was just fucking with us. Or just annoyed with literary critics (an understandable feeling). You get the sense that he was a writer you could have a normal conversation with, which I don’t say about many poets, so I’d like to see if my theory there is correct. (Also, today’s his birthday, so I’ll buy him a baked good as well).

Cammy:  The part of me that isn’t much of a poetry fan is not exactly itching for this particular coffee get together.  But, when I think about, it as far as poetry goes, Robert Frost’s stuff is far less offensive than most of what I was exposed to.  More to the point, outside of the particular piece Kristy noted above, no one was trying to force any of it down my throat.  In fact, I think it helps that, as Kristy says, most of his works are kind of side lined in favor of the “deep” shit that I can’t stand.  So, sure, I’m in.  If only to salute him as a poet who doesn’t make me cringe at the mere thought of his work.  I may not be able to contribute much to the grander literary discussion, but I’m cool with listening in and lighting the birthday candles.

Would we have coffee with Nanci Griffith?

Cammy: Maybe we should co-blog about how Nanci Griffith is the Queen of Awesome and listening to “Gulf Coast Highway” will cure cancer (okay, maybe not, but if someone told me that it did, I could totally believe that)

Kristy: To be fair, neither you or I has cancer yet, and we listen to “Gulf Coast Highway” a lot, so we don’t know that it isn’t a preventative. I’m just sayin‘

–conversation circa 2008

Would we drink coffee with Edmund Spenser?

Kristy: Well, as mentioned in previous posts I’m taking a class on the man right now, so coffee could be helpful.  I’m not going to lie:  It turns out I don’t love The Faerie Queene and my tolerance for pretentious allegory is somewhat lower than I expected.  But it would be nice to have a sit down with the author and say, “Okay, for serious, what does this mean?  Did you have any knowledge of the Mabinogi because the Snowy Florimel story sounds like it was ripped right out of the fourth branch?”  Things like this could do wonders for my comprehension of this class.

On the other hand, there’s the somewhat minor detail of him being part of the horribly oppressive English regime in Ireland and more or less advocating the full scale genocide of my people.  (as a good American mutt I get to claim most ethnic groups as “my people”.   It’s handy).  That could make coffee… a little awkward.  I mean, it might be fun to throw the coffee in his face and laugh and say, “Ha!  We got our freaking island back.  Well… most of it.”  But slime bag that he is, I might feel bad gloating over a man who’s infant might have been killed in a blaze set by Irish rebels.  So I’m gonna say no to this one.

Cammy: Well if Kristy is bowing out, I’m not sure I want to be left holding the bag–or the cup of coffee.  I’ve never made it through the Faerie Queene.  I tried once when I was about 10 or so.  My Mom had just taken a few lit classes and I was perusing her Norton Anthologies.  Being a little kid I saw the title and thought, “Oh, Faeries.  This should be good.”  Yeah.  Never have made it through.  And that’s a sad commentary considering I actually did make it through Dream of the Rood and Caedmon’s Hymn (the translations, obviously–it took Mom a while to convince me that the untranslated versions were actually anything remotely related to English).  I suppose I ought to at least finish the work the guy is known for before I go trying to strike up conversation with him over coffee.  I’m thinking that–at least for now–Eddy’s gonna be having coffee all on his own.

Kristy: Frankly with the whole wiping out the Irish thing, I’m questioning whether Mary will even let him into the Spatial Anomaly Coffee Bar and Refueling Station.

This coffee with was suggested by friend of the blog Meighan.

Would we drink coffee with Aphra Behn?

Kristy: In a heartbeat!  First of all, she shares my birthday.  Which automatically makes her awesome.  Stylistically, I enjoy her poetry, but that’s not really what makes me love her so much.  The subject matter of her poetry, particularly for the seventeenth century is delightfully scandalous.  It’s the convention defying and the shameless empowerment that gets me.  We’re talking about a woman who wrote poems about erectile dysfunction in an era where women weren’t supposed to admit to liking sex.  Tell me this is not a woman who would be fun to have coffee with?  Add to that a few other facts from her life–like her time as a political spy.  You know this woman has a tale or two to tell.  And judging by her poetry she would know how to tell it well.

Cammy: Nope.  Kristy’s flyin’ solo on this gig.  Yay for the girl power and all, but I’m rarely zoned for poetry and I have a feeling the discussion would get way too deep for me and my shallow mind.  The political spy bit is intriguing, so I plan to listen in from the bar for any good stuff, but otherwise, I think both Kristy and our guest would have a better time without me sitting there looking confused.

So we’ve kind of exhausted the supply of Founding Fathers (John Adams declined our invitation on the grounds that coffee makes him jittery) so we had to move on to another category.  Nuns!

Would we drink coffee with Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz

Kristy: Absolutely!  Sor Juana was, by all account, absolutely brilliant.  I like talking to smart people even though doing so often makes me feel incredibly bad about myself.  And she certainly knew the value of education, though that was the sort of thing that could get a woman burned at the stake by the inquisition in her day.  Gotta love a woman who isn’t afraid to go against the grain, but is smart enough to do so without winding up dead.  Sor Juana got out of that whole inquisition problem by becoming a nun, which made it harder to build a case she was a witch (didn’t prevent some serious scrutiny, but it made it possible or her to continue learning).  Modern scholars have wondered if the convent to dodge marriage strategy wasn’t more about being a lesbian than being a nerd.  I ask, can’t one be both?  Honestly, her sexuality is none of my business, but I tend to subscribe to the school of thought that says sexual orientation was not exactly the same back then as it is today.

Also, at the end of the day, I love her poetry.  I love how sassy it is, particularly for the 16th century and particularly for a nun.  Imagine how scandalous the lines “Pero cual es mas de culpar/aunque cualquiera malhaga/la que peca por la paga/o el que paga por pecar” (who is more to blame in whatever wrong doing:  she that sins for pay or he that pays for sin?)  Don’t you bet she would be awesome to sit with in a corner booth and mock people with?  I bet she could seriously fling some snark.

Cammy: Put me down as a tentative, but don’t expect me to say much A) because my Spanish is severely sub-par and B) because even though I do better with poetry in a language not my own, at the end of the day me and poetry?  Not so much.  But this gal sounds just a bit too intriguing not to meet–I applaud anyone who has the forethought to dodge the inquisition via a convent.  Although that does sound a bit like a “lesser of the evils” trade off.  And, of course, anyone who might be willing to sit around and mock people (and, possibly places and things–why limit ourselves to just humans?) over coffee is someone worth braving the language barrier to meet.