Willows Revisited

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478-ythe cow as a fellow creature, especially for his "boy-cow" whom he affectionately calls "that little baster," whatever that means, andwhom he somewhat playfully slaps "six times on the pents", certainlynot in anger, for having escaped the corral he built for it.In his Ph.D. thesis at St. Midgets, Byron Rumpkin advances theinteresting theory that what has since come to be known as archetypalbovinism arises out of a repression within the subconscious^ eitherself-induced or externally forced, whereby the natural desire formilk during infancy becomes replaced by a desire for alcohol. In thisprocess the id becomes to some extent identified with the bos imagein the subconscious mind which seeks an outlet. It Is then projected, but its semantic implications depend entirely upon the value structure acquired during maturation, and in the case of the poet these may be manifold though the form remains the same. The different symbolic significances of the cow may thus be accounted for.More evidence should be adduced to confirm this theory, but as far as it goes it is useful in explaining the wide variety In cow-symbolism which is observed in the School of Seven. It is certainly consistent with Jordan Middleduck's high-minded value structure that he should perceive the unusual, though by no means altogether unknown, cow-in-the-sky phenomenon through the eyes of Noah's wifeand draw the comparison with clouds as a heavenly manifestation,On the other hand with Jones-Jones the symbolism of the cow is, as we have seen, simply and readily expressed by fifty dollarsFurther consideration of cow-symbolism is reserved for laterand more detailed discussion of the individual poets and some examplesof their different uses of the cow will be given as they occur in their works. John Swivel's frequent reference to the cow to symbolize his favorite theme of times passing and the vanity of life is well known. Less
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48obvious of course, since she attempts to conceal it, but still understandable on the basis of Rumpkin's theory, is Wraitha Dovecotesfamous sigh of farewell to her departing youth in the brilliant "Hast Milk to Spare?" But it is difficult to know in the case of Baalam Bedfellow, why, as in Seared Land, he should call out in an apparent agony of spirit, "Strive for us cows, for we are weak," when we know perfectly well that he hates cows almost as much as he hates birds. He has certainly never had archetypal bovinism since this, on top of his antl-snearth complex would have killed him. It must be thatas a Westerner he Just cant get the cow out of his system. For whenhe cries out as he does in some of his other poems, or even in someof his later Instalments of Seared Land. "Strive for us, ye Powersfor we are weak," or even, "strive for us ye stars for we are feelingpretty weak these days," we cannot but conclude that he merely usesthe cow as a figure of speech. We cannot feel that like Potatok ortoolike Sarah, he loves the cow. Bedfellow Is just cerebral for such emotion.Interestingly enough, the only member of the School of Seven who has never written about the cow, is Bessie Udderton. True, she has a great fondness for dairy products and these, for her, have become to a considerable extent identified with Innerness with which so much of western poetry has been Identified and of which she herself is the chief exponent. It may be that her reluctance to writereferring toabout the cow is due to the fact that she once, in referring to the countryside around her home described it as being "studded with cows, an expression for which she was Immediately taken to task by her readers who felt that although a poet was entitled to get her metaphors mixed, taking liberties with sexes that way was something else again. Milk, cream, butter, cottage cheese, beef-Stroganoff,
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49tenderloin tips with mushrooms, grilled T-bone, sirloin roast medium�Bessie makes the oblique approach to the cow but it is no less real on that Moreover,account. Moreover as Rumpkin has pointed out the very fact thatshe chose the pen-name, Bessie, is itself significant. The bos imagedies hard.Not so apparent as the cow but more deeply imbedded in Saskatchewan literature is lnnerness, that quality of poetry which, although not unknown in Canada has become a definite characteristic in the School of Seven. It is a peculiar inversion of two negatives to form one positive. All poetry, as we know, must have its roots in history but innerness arises out of Saskatchewan's lack of history. It arises furthermore out of Saskatchewans^cnaracterlstic economy of wheat, or at least what was its characteristic economy before the discovery of oil. Wheat, in Saskatchewan has always stood, and Indeed still stands for prosperity � of food and an abundance of things to eat.But it is a prosperity of which the poet traditionally suffers a lack.seekingAnd in Saskatchewan's history the very soil which the poet was,to ex-press and out of which he was to draw his inspiration was refusinghim its essence. Reaching then into the history of the land itselfanotherfor further inspiration the poet finds another lack since there is practically no history worth mentioning. The result of all these lacks is however not what we would expect, a frustration and a withdrawing, but actually an idealization. The poetic spirit is not easily crushed.Those who hold that lnnerness in Saskatchewan is merely a caseof the poets there being hungry and that they are writing about it cannot see the fine points of literature. To understand lnnerness we must go back as far as we can into what there is of Saskatchewan's history. Actually
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50there is very little. Fifty Years of Progress undoubtedly represents, as the Government points out, a tremendous percentage increase in almost everything, which is not surprising considering there was nothing to start from. In actual years the Saskatchewan poet has no long period of political or heroic history from which to draw his inspiration. Sarah Binks, of course wrote her own history but the poet of today cannot call upon Caesar and his legions as did Sarah for poetic inspiration, especially since the historians, notably Farley Mowat, have shown that it was not the Romans but the Norwegians who first discovered Saskatchewan, and these at best can serve only as a poetic mulch. Nevertheless, the poet makes the best of what he has even if it is, as the great German critic and historian, von Hinten states, "ever so little." Without it, he declares, it loses one Geist after another;\Lacking innerness\ [declares von Hinten] *no poet can interpret history. Poetry is the innerness of history. Without innerness, no poetry. But also without history no innerness. It then becomes history in the special or the ersatz sense. It is to ask ourselves whether or no.But history in this special sense requires two things, namely, history in the ordinary sense, and the poetic historian in the extraordinary or disordinary sense. Of these two the latter is the most important. The history of a people lies not so much in the Zeitgeist, or record-of-events, as it does in the strength-through-lnterpretatlon-given-to-events, that is to say in effect, the Wienerschnitzelgeist of the poet. And we must here again ask ourselves whether or no. If no �then no. If not no �who can say? But always the historian must be master of both or he loses the soul-spirit, the Poltergeist.This he cannot acquire on his own. It is given or it is not given. If the poet cries, "help me with," we can do nothing. It can thus be qualitative as well as quantitative, depending |on the negation. But of history in the ordinary sense there must always be some, if ever so little."\
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51Here we have the dilemma of the Saskatchewan poet. Having ofhistory In the ordinary sense "ever so little" he sublimates it bybringing it into the present and mixing it, if not exactly with wheat,at least with what wheat and wheat product once stood for. Innernessand the cow here meet on common ground. Undoubtedly the Regina Schoolmay have been hungry in its early days. But it is no longer actuallypoetsthe case,. If the / still tend to regard food with more than theusual poetic anticipation, as Bessie Udderton undoubtedly still does, it is all the more to their credit. The great poet penetrates the hidden depths of life and has therefore a deeper inspiration; but for the School of Seven, food has lost its mere sustaining and caloric significance. It has become spiritualized and like the cow has taken on a higher meaning. True, its physical necessity as poetic fuel is acknowledged and even Jordan Middleduck, probably the most impecunious and certainly the leanest of the School of Seven says as much in his Break Not the Lute despite the fact that as a rule Middle-duck is far above such considerations of the flesh as food, let alone other things:Break not the lute, the poet's spate Rests not alone on vernal scenes, But also on when last he ate � He cannot function lacking beans;For tears that fall upon the page,And sorrow which the poet pensUnless with nourishment assuaged,Yield no poetic dividends;And unfed Muse, the sulky jade, Like women all will soon retreat, And never be at best arrayed, Unless invited out to eat.his is the poem to which Bessie Udderton, the poet of innerness rote two verses in reply. Incidentally, the theme of the broken lute is a favorite one with the School of Seven and on one occasion at least was even adopted by M, the unknown Muse of Jones-Jones.See Appendix I
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52We owe much to the Saskatchewan Government for its encouragement of the indigenous poetry of Western Canada and for its recognition of the School of Seven in conferring the Order of Merit upon its members. Such things bring them to the fore. They are all, in a sense, the literary heirs of the immortal Sarah Binks "than whom" to quote a voice from the distant past, "no greater has ever hit the prairies."But they all lack Sarah's verve, her ebullience, her youth, and above all, her Joy in the soil. They may, like Sarah herself, still represent their province and their native land, but what with the oil and industrialization of Saskatchewan they seem to have become old before their time. Wraltha Dovecote, the one from whom we would expect to find before all others some of Sarah's clear notes of Joy,has fallen into an infinite sadness. John Swivel, the Great Dean, de-spite all the honors and success which have come his way, has returnedagain to the writing of those very In Memoriam poems through which he had first won recognition. Bessie Udderton's lyrical innerness, especially as she tends to put on weight, tends also to become more and more a mere index of chain-store products, and Professor Bedfellow, the Piltdown wan, is becoming increasingly difficult to understand, as he returns more and more to the primitive in his efforts to reach a pre-bird period of history. Osiris Jones-Jones, althoughhigh in Government regard as the Laureateand author of the Provincial Song, Saskatchewan. Thou Golden, is nevertheless counted more for his skill in bird-watching and in running a tape recorder than as a creative artist. Only perhaps in Purge Potatok, the lowly immigrant, the D.P., the newcomer to this country, do we capture again, albeit in broken English, some of that love of the Saskatchewan soil that once was Sarahs.
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53Talent they undoubtedly have, and all are poets of the West. But it is no longer the same West. It is no longer the kingdom of wheat and no longer can any of them shout, "The farmer is King!" They may reflect their province but it is no longer a province of Sarah's "field and sky and rain-drenched hill." As we have seen in theirco-operative Moonlight on Wascana Lake, political considerations now intrude. There are economic frustrations and there are deep spiritual and psychological problems which must be overcome. But in theend it all makes for a great literature. Saskatchewan is coming of age. The "Fifty Years of Progress is.to quote from the Premier's message, "but one stage in the long history which still lies ahead." Who knowswhat the next fifty years will bring. But to the ever-growing accumulation of bardic literature each Individual in the School of Seven has made Mia his own contribution. But in the end to understand and appreciate the total accumulation we must see each of the poets as a person and as an Individual.In the thumb-nail sketches which follow no attempt has been made to give exhaustive biographies or to trace literary influences and antecedents, but merely to present the poet as he is at present. It is hoped that the reader will be enabled thereby to have a better understanding of their work as springing from a definite personality. Once they are dead, it will be a pleasure, of course, to give them each a more complete study.
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54JOHN SWIVELThe great difficulty encountered in the study of the individual members of the Saskatchewan School of Seven is that they are not yet dead. To explain a poet properly the literary historian must first search for roots and influences and antecedents out of which the poetry has arisen, and these he must find in the poet's own history. But what does he do when the poet's own history is still in the making and has not yet caught up with him. The biographical tales, legends, and reminiscences which are so necessary for the poetic understanding are simply not available while the poet is still alive. In the case of such generalizationsas lnnerness and cows, it is always possible to make use of certain lacks, to account for them, but when we are dealing with the individuals themselves, a more positive background must be found, Otherwiseno poet, and especially not the Saskatchewan poet, is understandableor even plausible. Without the background to serve as a contextof understanding, poetry is left hanging in the air, a mere something to be enjoyed for its own sake standing in opposition to all the traditions of sound S scholarship.Concerning this Professor Potatfritte of Paris declares; And why not for its own sake? The trouble with all these Germanic philosophies is that then undergo putrescence from which von Hinten, as a chief proponent, is by no means excluded. We do not need history for poetry. I Under existentialism poetry, though it may not be enjoyed for its own sake, can, as in all art, be endure for its own sake, what is required here is not history but fortitude, and of this the Germans with their high-flown theory of the Wienerschnitzelgeist know nothing.
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55JohnIt would be fascinating to review John Swivel's childhood,to point to his early reading, his schools, his teachers, hisinterests and his hobbies, and perhaps even his first stirringstowards girls. But the truth is the: we know little, and whatlittle we know is negative. He seems to have read nothing, had nohobbies, and have been singularly indifferent to girls. About all we know is that he was born in Quagmire, that he grew up in Quagmire, that he lives in Quagmire, and that according to his own wishes and expectations he will "pass on" in Quagmire. Quagmire for him is the complete cosmos. And yet, uneventful as John Swivel's life has been, he stands today as the Great Dean of Saskatchewan letters, the outstanding poet of all western Canada, and in the hearts of his countrymen second only to Sarah Binks herself.Few facts emerge concerning John Swivel. He was the youngest child in a family of six children all of whom were girls except himself which may account for the fact that he never married. His parents, who were neither poor nor affluent, sent him to the local school which he attended until the age of sixteen. He wasthen employed as an errand boy and general handyman in one of the large insurance companies who had just opened a western branchat Quagmire. In the course of time the young Swivel became a
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full-fledged insurance agent in his own right specializing in life insurance from which he managed to make an indifferent living. It was not until he accepted a tombstone agency as a side line that prosperity smiled on him.The sale of tombf stones aa a complement to the sale of life insurance seemed to Swivel to be a logical step, but the tomb-stones seemed also to have marked a milestone in his literarylife. For it unearthed in Swivel a talent which had all this time/been latent - that of poetry. He had certainly never been particularly active in his business of. selling insurance and evenhis sale of tombstones had been marked by a somewhat inept, attitude which no amount of special drives and seasonal price reductions and sales conferences on the part of the company in Regina was able to overcome. But when he discovered that by giving with each tombstone three "In Memoriam" poems, which he found he was obliged to write himself/since those supplied by the company where limited in number and in any case did not meet local conditions), not only did his sale of tombstones increase, but so also did his enthusiasm for selling them. Swivel had found himself.It was in the 'writing of the "In Memoriam" poems that JohnSwivel's genius has developed. Except for his own pleasure he no longer writes this type ofpoetry which in the course of years has undoubtedly become of greater historical than poetic interest. But the influence of the "In Memoriam" poems has been profound. They have colored all his later work. There is a sad, reflective quality in everything he does. One cannot escape on reading any of his poetry the
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sense of time's passing, the inevitable drift of all reality into shadows and memories. "All is vanity" saith the Preacher, and to some extent John Swivel has been accused of merely re-echoing this thought, of being, in fact, a Saskatchewan existentialist, insofar as anybody in Saskatchewan can be an existentialist, but it is not so. Swivel is greater than that, he sees beyond time's passing a larger reality, the unfolding of a design which he does not attempt to understand but whose unfolding he can contemplate with trust and equanimity. Perhaps nowhere, in all his work, is this better expressed than in his famous Omniscient Plan.Omniscient Plan is a singularly beautiful poem quite apart from its philosophical import. One likes to think of Swivel writingthat poem, he is new in his declining years, retired, and settleddown, living in a small but comfortable cabin on the prairie edge of Quagmire. He has suffered lately from twinges of arthritis and is troubled with gas on the stomach. But life has treated himkindly, honors have come to him. He has twice won the Governor General's Medal for poetry and the pair of carpet slippers which were presented to him by the Canadian Authors Association on the occasion of his seventieth birthday and appropriately inscibed in needlepoint, Poeta nascitur on one, and non fit on the other, repose in a glass case on the parlor table. These, together with the elaborately framed Saskatchewan Order of Merit on the wall and the two refrigerators and the complete set of aluminum kitchen-ware which were awarded him for exceeding his quota of for three years in succession during his tombstone selling days, form a fitting background for his achievements and his memories.
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One likes to think of the Great Dean sitting on his screened, veranda as he so often does end contemplating the Saskatchewan scene, he sees it with the poetic eye. he sees in the wide horizon of the west an infinite varied which tc others would be bleak. He sees the animation of the prairies which to less poetic minds would be dull and uninteresting. It is a world for him which is full of sounds and poetic music', and the very fact that it is not one of k urban activity and restless doing is for him an opportunity to explore the depths of time, the past, present, and future,all of which he sums up so beautifully in those closing lines in which he states that in Saskatchewan, man "is given place to count the hours and meditate uponthe tenses."Omniscient plan that here unfolds In sound effect, and pastorale; To him who love of music holds The gophers pipe their madrigal; For gophers animate the scene, And give a semblance of event, And sing in praise of their demesne � Though otherwise inconsequent.And for those who have no ear for sounds And hold the gopher out of key, The wide horizon still abounds In infinite variety;For there are posts and posts and posts, And these are oft equipped with wires, Which lead in turn to other posts, And these again have insuliars:Again, to him whom nothing calms Eut knowledge coming to the learner, �ho'd scorn the gopher singing Brahms,. And wouldn't know a scene from Turner, Whose joy is cultivated powers within the mind and not the senses, Is given place to count the hours, And meditate upon the/senses.The word "insuliar" in this poem is the Anglo Saxon for our modern "insulator" and carries the same meaning. It is characteristic of poets generally, but of the Regina School in particular, to enrich our language either with new words or

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