An interview by Tom Devaney and Oliver Brossard

American Poetry Review, The, Jul/Aug 2003 by Rakosi, Carl

THE FIRST DAY I MET THE NOW 99-YEAR-OLD Carl Rakosi, his companion Marilyn Kane came home from the nearby school where she was working as a nurse to join us for lunch. The dining room table was set with simple linens and a basket of fresh bread. We enjoyed a lunch of potato leek soup topped off with freshly grated Parmesan cheese. After lunch, I spent nearly seven hours that day talking with Carl at his home in San Francisco.

I never planned to interview Mr. Rakosi and I did not interview him that day. But my friend Olivier Brossard, a translator and French Fulbright scholar, had just arrived in town from New York, and after I told him story after story from my auspicious day with Carl, he insisted that we record an interview with Mr. Rakosi. Since I had just spent a whole day with Carl I was very hesitant to ask to come again so soon, but (with Olivier's urging, for which I am grateful) I called to ask if we could do the interview, which I would conduct and Olivier would translate into French. Two days later I returned with Olivier and spent another several hours talking with Carl.

To explain my interest in Carl Rakosi's life and work, it would be enough to say that Mr. Rakosi's life has encompassed the history of 20th century America. It would be enough that throughout the Great Depression he was involved with the Communist party, writing for The Nation and The New Masses and other progressive journals. It would be enough that he was published by and corresponded with Ezra Pound and was good friends with, among others, the young Louis Zukofsky. It would be enough that for over 35 years he had a career in social work, eventually directing the Jewish Family and Children's Service of Minneapolis. Any one of these reasons would be enough, yet all these are true. Poet, father, grandfather, social worker, psychotherapist, socialist, democrat, humorist, and music enthusiast, at ninety-nine Mr. Rakosi is the last of a quartet of second generation American Modernist poets known as the Objectivists. This group also included Charles Reznikoff, George Oppen and Louis Zukofsky. All contributed to the February 1931 issue of Poetry magazine edited by Zukofsky and sponsored by Ezra Pound, now referred to as the "objectivists" issue, and all are included in George and Mary Oppen's An "Objectivists" Anthology (1932), published in France by To, Publishers.

Rakosi has written numerous books: New Directions published his first book and also Amulet (1968). New and collected earlier works have also been published by the National Poetry Foundation, Black Sparrow, and in Sun & Moon's Poems 1923-1941, with a first-rate introduction by Andrew Crozier. Poet and scholar Michael Heller's work on Rakosi, as well as the book Carl Rakosi: Man and Poet (N.P.F., 1993) which he edited, are essential resources. Mr. Rakosi has had two books published in England by Etruscan Books: The Earth Suite (1997) and The Old Poet's Tale (1999). Talking to Carl on the phone recently, I asked if he had been working-he told me yes-"I'm on a writing binge right now."

What most strikes you in Mr. Rakosi's living room, where we recorded the interview and listened to music at length on both days, is a large three-paneled front window, which fills the room with a clean, generous light (in the aptly named Inner Sunset district). The window faces west toward the Pacific Ocean, which can be felt more than seen. The window looks out upon the sloping 17th Avenue, where telephone wires criss-cross with a uniform sag between the area's signature staggered and stacked duplexes. In the living room, you also cannot miss the impressive twin four-feet-tall black Polk audio speakers and high-end stereo system. Carl is well known to sit for hours enjoying his extensive collection of classical and modern CDs and records.

On both days I visited we concluded our time by listening to music. The first day Carl asked me to pick a CD from the hundreds in his collection. It was not easy. I chose three: one by Aaron Copland, another by Vladimir Horowitz, and the last by the Mendelssohn String Quartet of "Alan Rawsthorne: Chamber Music 1905-1971." We listened to the CD of the Mendelssohn Quartet, which ran seventy minutes long. On the second visit, Olivier chose Cesar Franck's "Symphony in D Minor" and "Symphonic Variations," which ran fifty minutes long. In both cases we listened to the CDs in their entirety without speaking. On the first day, after we finished listening to the CD Carl remarked that it takes a "power of will to force yourself into the piece." Given our concentration on the music I was also surprised at the time by his comment that "I notice that when I'm listening, I'm not listening enough."

Rakosi remains sharp and lucid. One might say that he still has the "eye of a clinician," which is a hallmark of much of his poetry, his lines, "I mean to penetrate the particular / the way an owl waits / for a kangaroo rat," ran through my head more than once as we spoke, or sat there in silence. Rakosi wears hearing aids in both ears, which work well. He will answer a specific question, but he will not go on past the specific answer. Like his poetry, when he spoke, he was precise and clear.