A.J.M. Smith (1902–1980)

A.J.M. Smith (1902-1980) In any attempt to pay tribute to Arthur Smith's life and several careers, one can take solace in the wit and wisdom of his poetry. There is the wit of the twentieth-century Westmount metaphysician dancing playfully the paces of "Quietly to be Quickly or Other or Ether" or questioningly probing life's wound - "As deep, as nothing, as the grave" - in "On Knowing Nothing." And perhaps most happily there is the wonderful gritty wisdom of Jelly Roll Morton that stayed as fresh for Arthur in his later years as when he first heard Morton's words on a Library of Congress record concerning early jazz history: "Nothing" depends on "Thing," which is or was: So death makes life or makes life's worth, a worth Beyond all highfalutin' ·woes or shows To publish and confess. "Cry at the birth, Rejoice at the death," old Jelly Roll said, Being on whiskey, ragtime, chicken, and the scriptures fed. A.J.M. Smith, poet, critic, anthologist, teacher, scholar, died the 21st November, 1980, in East Lansing, Michigan, where he had spent most of his career as Professor of English Literature. His last years were not strong or productive ones, weakened physically as he was by several strokes but weakened most by the loss of his wife and closest friend, Jeannie. He wrote no poetry after her death, though he remained alert, witty and always interested in the Canadian scene. In what was likely the last interview he granted, a talk with Gordon Johnston and myself at Trent University in October, 1979, he offered as "an excuse rather than an explanation" for that cessation "a little couplet" he had composed: From little sorrows, little poems come, When grief is great, the stricken heart is dumb. The couplet provides a telling insight into the kind of man and poet Arthur Smith was. Often described as spare, stringent, cool, refined or classical, he was in fact never without deep feeling. Rather he strove to control and shape that feeling, to make it speak "Perfectly, as though without care." Canada and Canadian letters have much to be thankful for in Arthur Smith's achievement and example. As M.L. Rosenthal recently phrased it, he had "something like perfect pitch in poetry." He had too a splendid range of sensibility, the talent to be brilliantly nonsensical or deeply serious, the genius when the subject allowed to blend nonsense and seriousness for startling effect. For his criticism and his contributions to the shaping of the way Canadian poetry is seen, we owe him as much again. Though there will continue to be debate about certain of his ideas and the exercise of his tastes in particular cases, it is clear that his place in Canadian letters will remain an important, indeed a central one. His example and his impeccable standards endure as guides to us all. This tribute, then, is chastened of sadness by a recognition of Arthur Smith's life. It is, as he would have agreed, pointless to parade "highfalutin' woes or shows." His life, his achievements, these are the thing. The Journal of Canadian Studies, to which Arthur contributed, and Trent University, which proudly houses his books and papers on Canadian literature, take this occasion to celebrate that life. Michael A. Peterman Journal ofCanadian Studies 125 ...