I had the most pleasant surprise the other day, when I picked up a
slender galley copy of a memoir called “Letter From a Young Poet” by Hyam Plutzik
(1911-1962), from the review table at my place of work, the New York Post.
What a read! A perfect anecdote to the loud, self-serving blather of this
endless political season. The letter was written by Plutzik in the waning
months of his twenties, looking back on what he had done since leaving Trinity
College (Connecticut) and his mentor, Odell Shepard.
Here is a sampling of the foreward by poet Dan Halpern:
The highlight
of Shepard’s letter [in reply to Plutzik; it was never posted] is the following
passage regarding the nature of writing, of the writer/artist: “... and
hence comes that feeling of being ‘superfluous’... and a sense of utter
solitude as a mask of his genius, and soon after, despairing of communication,
he comes to write... For himself alone, in a prolonged soliloquy.” Was
Shepard invoking what Rilke wrote forty years earlier in his letter to another
young poet, “Nobody can advise you and help you, nobody. There is only one way.
Go into yourself.”?
This slim
volume has treasures galore. This great is certainly deserving of renewed
attention.
Next: Running for Your Life: Yes, 21 Days
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