Essay Press editor Randall James Tyrone interviews Dan Beachy-Quick on his new book, A Quiet Book.
Randall James Tyrone:Dan, I too am a student. And I do and don’t mean that in the “I’m constantly gathering information in the world” sense, but more so in the fact that I’m in an MFA program and I’m wondering about research through reading. This aspect of a writer’s process isn’t really taught in institutions, at least not in the way artists use it, but more so expected to almost be intuitive. It is very interesting to look at A Quiet Book and its many references and fields of study. Could you talk a bit about your research habits? How do you go about finding what applies to your work and what best supports what you’re going for? Also, what role did the internet play in the creation of your chapbook?
Over the summer, Andy Fitch interviewed 60 poets about their latest books. Ugly Duckling Presse will publish these collected interviews in 2013. This interview focuses on Beachy-Quick’s book Wonderful Investigations (Milkweed Editions). Recorded July 6th. Transcribed by Maia Spotts.
Andy Fitch: In your first essay’s first sentence you identify yourself as a “nature poet.” Could you give a condensed sense of what you mean by the term, both within Wonderful Investigations and within a broader ecopoetics context? In doing the reading for this interview project, I’ve been struck by the diverse range of contemporary poets who adopt that potentially fraught (because perpetually contested) self-definition.
Dan Beachy-Quick: That essay’s initial draft came out of a panel talk on ecopoetics, for which I’d been invited to participate. I still don’t feel particularly associated with ecopoetics, although I feel real sympathy toward it. The panel just provided an excuse to think about how my poetic concerns, and hopefully my poetic practice, address the world in a caring and protective manner. I had been reading much about initiation rights, early mythology, heroic cycles. I’d wondered how poetry might offer itself as an initiatory experience—not only to the poet, but to the reader, amid a kind of liminal space where assumed writer/reader relations get undermined. Initiatory processes move a person, from a profane relationship to the world, to one in which, through a symbolic death, they are reborn into a sense of the world as a sacred place. Similarly, to engage a poem risks a rewiring of one’s nervous system, one’s perceptive ability. This suggested to me a way of attending to the world on the world’s terms and undermining subjectivity in any normal sense.