(1 PLANET OF TRE ARTS

INTERVIEW:

by: SANDRA LOCKWOOD

SUSAN MUSGRAVE

She has been called British Columbia's ’ Darkest Heart.’ Despite the black-
ness that pervades much of her work, Susan Musgrave is one of Canada’ s
most successful and widely read poets. Her first book of poems, Songs of the
Sea Witch, (Sono Nis Press) appeared when she was only seventeen, and
brought her immediate recognition. Now at the age of thirty-five, with nine
books to her credit, the most recent Cocktails at the Mausoleum, (McClelland

and Stewart, 1984), one novel, The Charcoal Burners,(McClelland and

Stewart, 1980), and anew novel forthcoming, she is one of our most critically

acclaimed poets.

SL: In your poem “One More Lyric, One More” you write
“poetry has never been anything but trouble”. What do you
mean by this?

SM: That is actually a line taken from a poet called Anselm
Hollo. Poetry gets you into trouble because people often
think there is more going on in you than there might be, and
they are therefore suspicious of you. When I lived on the
Queen Charlottes I never told anybody I was a poet. I had a
really sweet next door neighbor and we became good
friends. One day she found out I was a poet — somebody
gave her my first book, and she was really shocked because
the poems didn’t seem to correspond with what she knew of
me. I used to take her flowers and all the flowers
~ in my poems are dead; all the birds are dead. She
said “Susan is such a sweet person we thought
she would write about flowers and birds.” She
was almost disillusioned as if I had been pre-
senting something I wasn’t, when in fact there
are many sides to people, and there are times
when you are writing poetry when it might dig
into certain aspects of your personality that
aren't there all the time. If I were like my poems
24 hours a day, I wouldn’t be here talking about
them because they are fairly black. That is what
my underlying vision of life is. But I compen-
sate for that because I can’t go around being that
gloomy all the time, so I tend to make it into a
farce. [In Panama, I had one poem (The Shark
Came Up) I left lying on the table. After my
friends read it, that was it, no one would go to
the beach with me. They had this feeling I was
presenting one image, but was really very
diabolical. ]

SL: You have often been accused of being a
lyric poet., Is ‘One More Lyric, One More’ in
answer to this.

SM: Yes. That was written when Patrick Lane
and I were in Winnipeg one winter where he was
writer-in-residence. Both of us tend to be lyric
poets compared to a lot of the poets writing on
the West Coast. I have a really strong sense of
rhythm when I’m writing — I tap my foot. We
just felt that somehow it was unfashionable to be
writing lyrical poetry. But that is the way I
write. I’m a lyricist.

SL: In your definition, what is a poem, who is a
poet? Is there any way to categorize poetry?

SM: I hope not. No, I don’t think there is. There
are,any number and variety of people who are
poets. I’m sure people have figured out answers
to that, but I don’t think about those kind of
things. I just know one when I read one.

SL: Then it is instinctive?

SM: Yes, I think it is. I don’t like academic poetry. I don’t
like poetry that requires you to know a lot of mythological
references. I like poetry that speaks directly. I don’t analyse
a lot. I don’t have any need to figure out what makes mys-
teries work. You never find out the answers anyway. I re-
member there was a sign up at Long Beach - they turned
‘The Wicket and the Shin’ into!a museum. They put up a
sign showing tidepools and crabs and wrote “We will at-
tempt to unravel the mysteries of the north Pacific Ocean.”
People always want to unravel mysteries. I’m really content
to leave them how they are.

SL: In Cocktails at the Mausoleum you quote from Richard
Eberhard’s poem he wrote upon seeing the grave of Henry

James: “a name may be glorious / but death is death.” In
“One More Lyric . . .” you also write: “We don’t know how
to die / we make an art of it.” Are you saying that poetry
romanticizes death?

SM: I’m being sarcastic and cynical. We capitalize on pain.
Being a poet you do. When I’m going through bad times
people always say “Oh, you will write a poem about that.”
When, in fact, I consciously think “This is a bad time, I’m
not going to write a poem. That line “We don’t know how to
die. . .” is alsoa kind of echo of Sylvia Plath’s: “Dying ts an
art / Like everything else I do it exceptionally well /I do it so
it feels like hell.”

SL: Stereotype poetic words like ‘soul’, ‘time’, ‘eternity’,
‘mind’, etc. are almost absent from your writing. Yet, you
entitle one poem “On Being Told, Ten Years Ago, Never to
Use the Word ‘Time’ in a Poem”.

SM: Yes. I remembor asking bp nichol what to do when
people want to use clichés, and he said, “Clichés? I avoid
them like the plague!” ‘Soul’, ‘time’ are sterotype words
that are supposed to be evocative when in fact they are so
vague. My eyes glaze over when I see the word ‘soul’. I
don’t get any closer to what the poet is trying to say.

SL: Then how do you use a word like ‘love’? Everytime I

Sandra Lockwood

turn on the radio I hear it. Ihave become so desensitized to
it I don’t even know what it means. How do you give words
like ‘love’, ‘life’, ‘death’ new meaning?

SM: I suppose it is the context. They could be considered
vague words but they are words that catch people’s imagi-
nation. People may not have an idea of what a soul is, but
they have their own version of love. It is something they can
identify with.

SL: But a phrase like “I love you” seems to have lost so
much meaning. I would never dare say that to anybody.

SM: I was like that for awhile. I was with someone for years
who would never say it and who thought if you loved some-
one you didn’t need to say it. So I was always afraid. Then
other people I’ve said “I love you” to have answered “How
can you love me, you don’t know me.” And my response,
which I don’t say, is “If I did know you then I wouldn’t love
you.” I don’t need to ‘know’ people. Love is something I
feel instantly for someone. I’m no longer afraid to tell
people that. It is their problem if they can’t cope with it.
And a lot of people can’t; they think it means you want the
mortgage to their heart. In fact, it doesn’t with me. It means
‘right now’. To say I love you is conditional. It means for
‘this moment’ I do. Love and death are two things I write
about because they are very elusive to me. Yet, I’m preoc-
cupied with both of them.

SL: Why are you so preoccupied with death?

SM: It is such a hideous goal. The goal of all
life. (She laughs). It is like the darkness we are
headed for. And while I don’t much like being
here a lot of the time, it is all [ have. The un-
known is much more frightening. If I could be
dead for 10 years I could stand that, but eternity
— T always have trouble with ‘eternity’. I don’t
like the word. ‘The Infinite’. As a child I could
never understand infinity. No wonder! It is just
too much to grasp. I can’t understand how
somebody dies and then they are gone. It
doesn’t make any sense to me how the body can
betray you. I suppose it is quite odd that we are
here in the first place. I almost feel cheated that I
am here because then I have to die. If I’d never
been born I wouldn’t have to go through all this.
Now I’m preoccupied with my daughter’s
death. I worry about that all the time instead of
my own. That is what happens when you have
kids, you give hostages to fortune.

SL: In Cocktails you write about having to be
photographed in your ‘new image’, and feeling
very strange and uncomfortable.

SL: Yes. But a lot of my poems are really
tongue-in-cheek. I was writer-in-residence at
the University of Waterloo. I had a job for the
first time in my life, and I was living in Ontario.
This was all very new to me. Of course I felt un-
comfortable being photographed in a cornfield
in Ontario, away from the sea and the rocks I’m
so used to. Some radio announcer read that line,
“standing naked in my high heel shoes”, and I
could tell what the question was going to be. He
said, “Most people wouldn’t be photographed
naked in a cornfield in their high heeled shoes,
but you are a poet, and poets are different,
right?” And I said, “Well, I hate to disappoint
you but I really wasn’t photographed naked in
my high heels.” I should have said, “That is
nothing. You should see me when I go to a bas-
ketball game!” In that poem I was trying to say I
was vulnerable, not physically naked.

SL: You have established youself as quite an important
poetic figure in Canada. Are you afraid of being moulded or
pigeonholed into something that is marketable?

SM: Oh, I already am. There’s no doubt about it. And I’ve
tried for years to break out of that, but whatever Ido, people ~
still insist on having that image. Somebody phoned me
from Enroute the other day because they wanted to “check
the facts’, and they asked ‘““Would you describe yourself as
being dark and brooding and preoccupied with the morbid
side of life?” I just laughed and said, “I wouldn’t, and I
know many people do, but who would describe themselves
as that?” And she said, “Yes, I see what you mean.” The

ANANAANAANAAAAAAAANANAAAAAAAAAAAAAARAAAAAAAAAARAAAARAARAAAAAAA AAAS

(2 PLANET OF THE ARTS

INTERVIEW

SUSAN MUSGRAVE

She has been called British Columbia’
ness that pervades much of her work,
most successful and widely read poets

by: SAN

’Darkest Heart.’ Despite the blac
Susan Musgrave is one of Canada’s

Her first book of poems, Songs of the

Sea Witch, (Sono Nis Press) appeared when she was only seventeen, and
brought her immediate recognition. Now at the age of thirty-five, with nine
books to her credit, the most recent Cocktails at the Mausoleum, (McClelland

and Stewar
Stewart, 1980), and anew novel forthcor
acclaimed poets

SL: In your poem “One More Lyric, One More you write
“poetry has never been anyt trouble”. What do you
mean by this?

SM: Thats actu
Hollo, Poetry
think there is more going on in you than there n
they are therefore suspicious of you. When 1 Ih
Queen Charlottes I never told anybody I was a poet. I hada
ly sweet next door neighbor and we became
friends. One day she found out I was a poet — somebody
gave her my first book, and she was really shocked because
the poems didn’t seem to correspond with what she knew of
ime. Tused to take her flowers and all the lowers
dead all the birds are dead, She
an is such a Sweet person we thought
she would write about flowers an birds.”
was joned as if | had been pre
senting something I wasn't, when in fact there
‘are many sides to people, and there are times
when you are writing poeiry when it might di
into ce ‘of your personality that
aren't there all the time. IF were like my poems:
24 hours.a day. [ wouldn't be here talking about
them because they are fairly black. That is wha
vision of life is. But | compen-
xe can’t go around being that
iloomy all the time, so tend to make it into a
farce. [In Panama, I had one poem (The Shark
1¢ Up) [ left lying on the table. After my
friends read it, that was it, no one would go t0
the beach with me. They had this feeling I was
presenting one image, but was really. very
diabolical.)

ly alin taken from a poet called Anselm
s you into trouble because people often
tbe, and

SL: You have often been accused of being a
lyric poet., Is “One More Lyric, One More
answer to this

SME: Yes. That was written when Patrick Lane
and I ere in Wi Winter where he was
‘writerin-residence. Both of us tend to be lyric
poets compared to a lot ofthe poets writing on
the West Coast. I have a really strong sense of
rhythm when I'm writing —Itap my foot. We
just fel that somehow it was unfashionable to be

Iyrical poetry. But that is the way I
e. I'ma lyricist

s definition, what isa poem, who is a
poet? Is there any way to categorize poetry?

SM: I hope not. No, Ldon’t think theres. There
are.any number and variety of people who are
poets. 'm sure people have figured out answers
to that, but I don’t think about those kind of
things. I just know one when I ead one

L: Then itis instinctive?

‘SM: Yes, I think itis. I don’t like academic poetry. I don't
like poetry that requires you to know a lot of mythological
references. I like poetry that speaks directly. [don’tanalyse
alot. Idon’t have any need to figure out what makes mys-
teries work. You never find out the answers anyway. Ire

ng Beach = they turned
‘museum. They put up a
crabs and wrote “We will at-
tert to unnveltie mysteries of be noth Pacific Oce
People always want to unravel mysteries, I'm realy cont
to leave them how they are

SL: In Cocktails at the Mausoleum you quote from Richard

Eberhard’s poem he rote upon seeing the grave of Henry

, 1984), one novel, The Charcoal Burner

(McClelland and
ming, she is one of our most critically

James: “a name may be In
‘One More Lyric...” youalso write: “We don’t know how
to die / we make an art of it.” Are you saying that poctry

romanticizes death?

sarcastic and cynic
poet you do, When I’

We capitalize on pain
ing through bad times
always say “Oh, you will write a poem about that.”
in fact, I consciously think “This isa bad time, I'm
1g write apoem, That line “We don't know how to
‘also a kind of echo of Sylvia Plath's: “Dying isan

rything else Ido itexceptionally well/ Ido itso
it feels like hell

Stereotype poetic words like ‘soul’, ‘time’
"ete. are almost absent from your wri
entitle one poem “On Being Told, Ten Years Ago, Never to
Use the Word “Time in a Poem’

SME: Yes. I remembor askin
people want to use clichés, and he said, “Clichés? I avoid
them like the plague!” ‘Soul’, “time” are sterotype words
that are supposed to be evocative when in fact they are so

tue. My eyes glaze over when I see the word ‘soul’. 1
don’t get any closer to what the poet is trying to say

bp nichol what to do when

SL: Then how do you use a word like “love"? Everytime I

DRA LOCKWOOD

turn on the radio I hear it, Ihave become so desensitized to
it don't even know what it means. How do you give words
like “love’, ‘life’, ‘death’ new meaning?

SME I suppose itis the context, They could be considered

‘vague words but they are words that catch people's imag

nation. People may not have an idea of what a soul is, but

they have theirown version of love. Itis something they can
tify with

SL: But a phrase like
wich meaning. I would never dare say that to anybody

‘love you" seems to have lost so

‘SME: I was like that forawhile. Iwas with someone for years
who would never say itand who thought if you
‘one you didn’t need to say it. So I wavalways afraid. Then
‘other people I've said “love you" tohave answered “How
can you love me, you don’t know me.” And my response,
‘which I don’t say, is “If did know you then I wouldn’tlove
you." I don't need to "know" people. Love is something I
Teel instantly for someone. I'm no longer afraid to tell
people that, Its their problem if they can't cope with it
«lot of people can’t; they think it means you want the
ge to theirheut, In fact, it doesn’t with me. Itme
right now’. To say I love you is conditional. It means for
‘this moment’ Ido, Love and death are two things I write
bout because they are very elusive to me. Yet, I'm preoc
‘cupied with both of the

Tie. (She laughs). Ivis like the darkness wi
hheaded for. And while I don’t much like
hhere a lot of the time, itis all T have. The ut
known is much more frightening. If I could be
dead for 10 years I could stand that, but eternity
~Valways have trouble with “eternity”. I don't
like the word, “The Infinite’. Asa child I could
never understand infinity. No wondet! I is just
too much to grasp. I can’t understand how
somebody dies and then they are gone. It
{doesn't make any sense to me how the body can
betray you. I suppose itis quite odd that we are
herein the frst place. lalmost feél cheated that
sm here because then I have to die. If 'd never
been born I wouldn't have to gothrough al this.
Now I'm preoccupied with my daughter's
death, I worry about that all the time instead of
‘my own, That is what happens when you have
ids, you give hostages to fortune.

SL: In Cocktails you write about having 1 be
photographed in your ‘new image’, and feeling
‘ery strange and uncomfortable.

SL: Yes. But a lot of my poems are really
tongue-in-cheek. I was writer-in-residence at
the University of Waterloo, [had a job for the
first time in my life, and Iwas living in Ontario,
‘This was all very new to me. Of course [felt un.
comfortable being photographed in a cornfield
in Ontario, away from the sea and the rocks I'm
so used to, Some radio announcer read that lin
heel shoes", and 1
What the question was going tobe. He
said, "Most people wouldn’t be photographed
naked in a cornfield in the
but you are a poet
right?” And [ said.
you but I really wasn’t phot
imy high heels.” 1 should have said
nothing, You should see me wh
etball game!” In that po
‘was vulnerable, not physically naked

heeled shoes,
poets are different

‘Well, [hate t disappoint
raphed naked in
That is

SL: You have established youself as quite an important
poetic figure in Canada, Are you afraid of being moulded or
pigeonholed into something that is marketable?

SM: Oh, [already am. There's no doubt about it. And I've
tied for years to break out of that, but whatever do, people
slill insist on having that image. Somebody phoned me

from Enroute the other day because they wanted t0 ‘ct
the facts

and they asked “Would you describe yourself as
pied with the morbid
wouldn't, and 1
know many people do, but who would describe thems
as that?” And she said, “Yes, 1 see what you mean,

ARAMA