It’s a Very Sara Teasdale Going Public (plus some other nifty doom and gloomers)!
Before, During, After – A Sara Teasdale Montage of Life, Love and Loss
Read by Xe Sands
Last week, Cassandra Neace at Indie Reader Houston wondered aloud on Twitter if there couldn’t be a recording of There Will Come Soft Rains, by Sara Teasdale as part of a future Going Public. Tanya at Dog Eared Copy picked up on that and suggested perhaps we do a Teasdale-themed Going Public…and FOOM! a meme-within-a-meme was born!
So this week, we offer various readings of the word of Sara Teasdale, each of us working this a different way. Tanya worked with a lovely narrator on both There Will Come Soft Rains an original piece. Cassandra offered a triumvirate of poems on the end of all things. Diane Havens offered a triumvirate of her own. And me? Well, I couldn’t leave well enough alone so…
Presenting a medley of poems that struck me as a journey through the cycle of love and loss, comprising mostly complete poems, but I’ll admit to some cheating in the middle…
Cheat sheet for poems:
I Am Not Yours
I Would Live in Your Love
From the Sea (partial)
Three Poems by Sara Teasdale
Read by Diane Havens
Sara Teasdale’s poetry is beautiful in its classic, compact simplicity. Here: Gray Eyes, It is Not a Word and I Have Loved Hours At Sea.
It’s All Going to End…
Read by Cassandra Neace
From Cassandra’s post at Indie Reader Houston:
Today, my Going Public offering is a series of poems. This started with a request to Xe Sands a couple of weeks ago that Sara Teasdale be the focus of one week. I was particularly interested in hearing the poem that inspired Ray Bradbury’s short story (and a chapter from The Martian Chronicles), There Will Come Soft Rains.
After I made the request, I got to thinking. Bradbury’s story is about what the Earth is like after a nuclear holocaust. He had an idea of what that would be like. The story was written just a few short years after the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Teasdale, however, did not. She wrote her poem in 1920, before the bomb, but after learning about life on the front after World War I. The mustard gas they used at that time was particularly gruesome.
Today, the poems that I have chosen chart the evolution of the end of humanity, from mustard gas to nuclear fallout. That is the truth these poets seem to be acknowledging – it’s all going to end. Even though, there’s a certain beauty to their words.