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Darkinfested
- University of Iowa Press
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Darkinfested It’s well known that Lorine Niedecker’s mother suffered from depression. Niedecker describes her as “tall, tormented, darkinfested” (CW 287). What a wonderful, terrifying word “darkinfested” is. It’s a biological metaphor, of course. And Niedecker is neither casual nor careless about biology. She is, after all, the author of a long poem about Darwin. She lived in an environment in which the natural world always seemed about to overwhelm the human one. Her poems are rife with infiltrations and infestations of one sort or another: “mites wintering / in rabbits’ ears” and “muskrats / gnawing / doors // to wild green / arts and letters” (CW 270, 237). (In that last quote “arts and letters” seem to be equivalent to lettuce. The literary canon is then as vulnerable as vegetable matter.) Niedecker seems to accept this chronic invasiveness calmly. Yet, as we know, to be infested is to be occupied, to become other than oneself, to be non-self. The loss of boundary can produce nausea; it is what Julia Kristeva refers to as “the abject.” It seems evident to me that Niedecker herself was “darkinfested.” Depression could be described as the opposite of grandiosity. The normal subject perceives herself through notoriously rose-tinted glasses; the depressive does not. The depressive’s view of self and world could be conceived as merciless realism. Niedecker is a consummate realist. She often presents troubling facts almost flatly (except for her singing vowels) as if she had little sympathy for humans in general or herself in particular. Rae Armantrout 104 | sounding process Man lives hard on this stone perch by sea imagines durable works (CW 247) In this passage from “Wintergreen Ridge,” the contrast between the stability associated with “stone” and the flightiness, the precariousness associated with “perch” sets up an irony. Niedecker clearly does not place herself among those who imagine things can endure. Niedecker most often depicts her life as ascetic, humble, resigned. In “Paean to Place” she advises: Do not save love for things Throw things to the flood ruined by the flood Leave the new unbought— all one in the end— water (CW 268) This passage may seem simply anti-materialist. A reader might conclude that Niedecker believes love should be reserved for living beings, not commodities . On the other hand, elsewhere she writes: Don’t fall in love with this face— it no longer exists in water we cannot fish (CW 193) Constant fluidity (change) seems to preclude both ambition and love. The style here, with its short lines and near rhymes, is light, almost childish, [54.205.179.155] Project MUSE (2024-03-19 11:42 GMT) Rae Armantrout | 105 reminiscent of the nursery rhymes and fairy tales she loved, while the subject position is bleak and austere. Niedecker does not generally indulge in self-pity though. She is more inclusive; she gives us all (as humans) a sober reassessment of our significance by placing us on the large canvas of nature . If the grandiose person sees the human drama writ large, Niedecker puts it in a different perspective. In “Traces of Living Things” she writes, For best work you ought to put forth some effort to stand in north woods among birch (CW 242) This stanza begins with what sounds like a lecture: Do your best; Try harder; Stand out. Niedecker turns these admonitions, which she might have imagined as directed at her, into parody. Here one puts forth effort not to stand out but “to stand /in north woods /among birch.” In this poem, humans are implicitly compared with trees. A tree is said to “put forth” leaves as a person is said to put forth effort. But a tree is consistent, untiring. Human effort is dwarfed by the forest. It sounds as if she thinks the valuable work is being done by trees and what humans should do is imitate them exactly, i.e., stand still, out-of-doors, and “put forth.” The little joke is that such behavior, if maintained, would cause humans to die of exposure. The poem’s inherent grimness is again leavened by the odd rhyme of birch and work and the for sound in “for,” “forth,” and “effort.” Like Dickinson, Niedecker ridicules the significance of publicity or exposure: Cricket-song— What’s in The Times— your name! Fame here on my doorstep 106 | sounding process —an evening seedy quiet thing. It rings a little. (CW 182) According to Jenny Penberthy’s notes for Niedecker’s Collected Works, this poem was occasioned...