An interview by Tom Devaney and Oliver Brossard

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

At the same time there is certain appropriateness to the word, because it does connote the opposite of the sentimental subjectivism of the poetry appearing in Poetry under Harriet Monroe's editorship. Also the word Objectivist has a strong ring to it that I like. I still remember the little thrill I felt when Robert Bly introduced me years ago at an anti-Vietnam war reading with just the words: "Carl Rakosi, one of the great Objectivists."

TD: So Zukofsky came up with the name Objectivist?

CR: Yes, he invented the term, but he himself was not one.

TD: Why wouldn't Zukofsky be considered an Objectivist as well?

CR: Because his preceptor was Pound and Pound didn't fit such a term and neither would Zukofsky's work. One could get away with calling Reznikoff's work Objectivist without objection and so that's what we settled for. There was a period when Zukofsky was being showered with adulation for the impenetrability of parts of his work. Hugh Kenner, the distinguished critic, wrote that it would take a generation to plumb its depths. I had this to say about that, (reads)

A DITTY FOR LOUIS ZUKOFSKY By a tree and a river an

exegete linguist sat singing Zukofsky, Zukofsky, Zukofsky

and I said to him, 'Superbird,

why are you sitting there, singing

Zukofsky, Zukofsky, Zukofsky?'

'Is it lyric aesthenia, birdie?'

I cried, 'or a concept too big

for your little inside?'

With a shake of his tight little head

he replied, 'Oh Zukofsky, Zukofsky, Zukofsky.'

TD: When did you meet Zukofsky?

CR: First we were in touch only through letters. I don't remember the exact date we actually met but it was sometime in the 1930's and we became very close friends. We were two young guys then, full of ideas. We talked sometimes about poetry, but mostly about our personal lives.

TD: Was that in New York?

CR: Yes, I was working there then.

TD: What were you doing?

CR: Social work. Let me explain. When I was an undergraduate in the English Department at the University of Wisconsin, I was so immersed in my studies and in learning how to write that I had given no thought to how I was going to make a living, so as graduation approached, I was in a panic. I had to return to Kenosha and wait for something to turn up and to my great surprise, something did. In my desperation it seemed like a miracle. I came across an announcement that the American Association of Social Workers was interviewing applicants in Chicago for work-study positions. At that time there were almost no men in the field and they were especially interested in recruiting men. I didn't have the slightest idea what social work was then, but it didn't matter. I could now make a living and I leaped at the chance and they accepted me very cordially and with great warmth in Chicago. Once I was established in my first job in Cleveland, however, I became restless and craved to have experiences in other parts of the country, especially New York. Since social workers were always in great demand, I could move from job to job and I did, eventually winding up in New York twice and in Boston, Milwaukee, Chicago, St. Louis, New Orleans, San Antonio, Austin, Texas, and Minneapolis.