how the '...dead wasp' got its name
Having recounted the story yesterday, it occurred to me that at no point have I explained where santiago's dead wasp got its name.
Back in 1995 I'd been writing for a while, and had a few things published in small magazines, but mostly it was shit. Then I moved to Cardiff to take a BA in English. My writing remained shit. I'd made the decision to stay in Cardiff through the summer, to begin living independently from my parents. The mass of new experiences, including having to work for a living suddenly freed up my writing, and from May to September 1996 I produced a huge amount of really unusual, and much improved poetry, compared to what I'd previously produced. It was like being possessed by someone else, and although the initial impetus was impossible to maintain, I continued to change, and have bursts of frenetic activity across the next three years.
In 97 or 98 I went through a phase of jotting down absurd titles, subject matter, and phrases for poems, which I'd then try to slot together and expand on. One title was will the bagel fit in the toaster?, another was santiago's dead wasp. At which point we need to jump back in time again.
Somewhere between the ages of 10 and 14 (vague, I know), my family visited friends of my parents. While we were there we went to have a look at some beehives nearby. I don't remember much about the hives, but it was a warm and sunny day, probably during the summer holidays. And that was that. Until two or three weeks later when I found something in my trouser pocket, a piece of paper, or, unexpectedly, a dessicated bee. I kind of wish now I'd kept it, but I didn't.
Back to the late 90s, it was an incident I wanted to work into a poem. Thus santiago's dead wasp. This was both a title and a concept. Santiago finds a dead wasp in his pocket, and decides to keep it in a box. More than that I can't now remember, the poem wasn't very good, and really didn't live up to the promise of the title. And of course, the wasp. It became a wasp simply because it sounded better, and conjured up a better visual image. Santiago's dead bee just wouldn't cut it.
So now you know. I still have these periodic upheavals to my practice, and bursts of creativity, most recently 2004, 2006, and most of this year - which of course this time coincides with an MA.
.
Back in 1995 I'd been writing for a while, and had a few things published in small magazines, but mostly it was shit. Then I moved to Cardiff to take a BA in English. My writing remained shit. I'd made the decision to stay in Cardiff through the summer, to begin living independently from my parents. The mass of new experiences, including having to work for a living suddenly freed up my writing, and from May to September 1996 I produced a huge amount of really unusual, and much improved poetry, compared to what I'd previously produced. It was like being possessed by someone else, and although the initial impetus was impossible to maintain, I continued to change, and have bursts of frenetic activity across the next three years.
In 97 or 98 I went through a phase of jotting down absurd titles, subject matter, and phrases for poems, which I'd then try to slot together and expand on. One title was will the bagel fit in the toaster?, another was santiago's dead wasp. At which point we need to jump back in time again.
Somewhere between the ages of 10 and 14 (vague, I know), my family visited friends of my parents. While we were there we went to have a look at some beehives nearby. I don't remember much about the hives, but it was a warm and sunny day, probably during the summer holidays. And that was that. Until two or three weeks later when I found something in my trouser pocket, a piece of paper, or, unexpectedly, a dessicated bee. I kind of wish now I'd kept it, but I didn't.
Back to the late 90s, it was an incident I wanted to work into a poem. Thus santiago's dead wasp. This was both a title and a concept. Santiago finds a dead wasp in his pocket, and decides to keep it in a box. More than that I can't now remember, the poem wasn't very good, and really didn't live up to the promise of the title. And of course, the wasp. It became a wasp simply because it sounded better, and conjured up a better visual image. Santiago's dead bee just wouldn't cut it.
So now you know. I still have these periodic upheavals to my practice, and bursts of creativity, most recently 2004, 2006, and most of this year - which of course this time coincides with an MA.
.
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