What a fantastic review and analysis. Will I find some of Milosz's poems in Czeslaw Milosz, Visions from San Francisco Bay? I would love to read more. You've inspired a poem with the "I am here" excerpt. Beautiful.
I’m so glad! Is there a chance of posting the new poem where one might read it? (On that topic, too, you might enjoy Rona Maynard’s recent piece ”Here I am” — will dig up the link in a moment and add it.)
There are no poems in the San Francisco Bay book, which I think might be out of print in any case. I’m truly not sure which collection to begin with, but can recommend Hoffman’s excellent book as a starting point. It’s short — if it were a little shorter one might call it an extended essay instead — and accessible, and filled with M’s poetry.
I am looking right now at a book that has lived on my shelves for many years: "On the Mesa: An Anthology of Bolinas Writing," edited by Joel Weishaus and published in 1971 by City Lights. It includes writing by Weishaus,, Arthur Okamura, Michael Bond, David Meltzer, Max Crosley, Robert Creeley, Ebbe Borrregard, Joanne Kyger, Tom Clark, Bill Berkson, Gordon Baldwin, John Doss, Keith Lampe, Bill Brown, John Thorpe, Lawrence Kearney, and Lewis Warsh. Maybe you knew some of these writers. I know well the salt air and the marine light of Bolinas, having lived in the Bay Area for many years. Your essay took me back. Thank you.
Oh, how marvelous! You know, I think that a 50-year anniversary follow-up anthology might have come out recently, though I haven't actually seen it yet. I'm so glad that this essay evoked that air and light — it does stay with one, doesn't it? I had no idea that I would be writing so much about Bolinas when I started this Substack, but it does seem to happen…. I,m glad that it feels worthwhile. And many thanks for the recommendation, which I just saw!
What a lovely, moving essay. Your distinction between indulgence and care is spot-on I think, and I think you're right that children are very sensitive to (and very influenced by) the difference. Funnily enough, my recurring dream-place is not my childhood home, but boarding school; like you, the dream always involves an odd kind of reckoning with the (increasing) life gap between now and then. There must be some term in psychology or psychotherapy for this kind of specific location and age/stage to which one always returns in dreams, and what significance it has, but I'm afraid I don't know what it is.
Thank you — I'm glad. And how astounding about having the same dream! Amazing how what seems like a unique individual experience can turn out to be universal. In yours, does it feel right to realize that you have, in fact, moved on? This particular one of mine ended at some point, which I must say I was glad for.
On the indulgence vs care — I was a little shocked, on writing the essay, to realize how different one's care or lack of it for oneself looks if one were to substitute someone else as the object.
Skipping dinner because one was reading a good novel and didn't want to bother to cook for oneself has never struck me as unsual. But take the same sentence and substitute “for one's child' or ‘for one's elderly parent, and it is rightfully horrific, and perhaps should be for oneself as well…
For now this dream is still going, more than 27 years after I left school; interesting to see whether it will fade eventually! I always find it striking because I was only at boarding school for a couple of years from 15, so it's not really a childhood setting and wasn't my "home" in any meaningful sense. I did feel very safe and (in your sense) 'cared for' at school though and I think that is probably its valency. For the first 15 years or so the dream was always quite painfully nostalgic and I didn't really feel glad to have moved on. Since I married myself and had children the dream has become increasingly surreal and my sense (in the dream) of dislocation from it / surprise to be there has increased. It's always a benign setting though. I wonder whether it will eventually stop, as yours has.
Fascinating! See Eliza's comments above, as well. For mine, it was a good thing, I think, when the dream ended, but yours sounds different; warmer, somehow. Though perhaps all of these versions of the dream are about keeping a lighter hold on the past…So interesting, altogether.
Maria, I love this essay of yours so much, especially because you gave this reader a glimpse into how you wrestled to connect the pieces - that is personal essay writing in a nutshell. You also remind me how much I like Milosz’s poetry, the “thereness” of it. As I’ve told you before, I know that landscape well, having grown up in the Bay Area in the same era, and you really landed on the central contradiction of Bolinas and hippie counterculture in general - indulgence vs the kind of responsibility for others that real care involves. We’re still living with far too much validation of individual indulgence, something that has become truly icky to me in the libertarian era of tech billionaires.
I recently read a novel from the library, “The Witches of Bellinas,” which is a riif on Bolinas if a tech bro took it over and became a local guru. I doubt you’d like it - I didn’t much, but it made me think of you and a far more nuanced portrait of a place 😉
Thank you, Martha! This means so much. On the writing and the content both — I'm so glad. It still feels like a tangle, because there was so much good there. It makes me happy that you think that is this getting at the contradictions.
How lovely that Milosz was already part of your poetry world! I will have to read more of him now, and love this “thereness” phrase. Much of what Eva Hoffman included in her book is now in my head: it's the kind of verse that sticks.
Oof, about the novel! Fascinating, and I'm glad to know of it, but will indeed skip it from this description. Again thanks for the kind words.
What an exquisite essay! You have taken me on a journey with words, accompanied by your thoughts, feelings, memories and discovery of a writer who has given you a key to a deeper understanding of your life and where you are now. I can understand how it was hard to stop writing with all of this coming together for you in such a heady mix. I could connect to the memories with ease, I never liked Miller. I have lived in California all of my life, including time in the Bay Area from 1967-71 while studying at Berkeley. I did not realize that the reason the sea air here than the East Coast is that the ocean currents go East to West and this air has crossed the ocean. Your realization, that 'indulgence is not the same as care' will also stay with me a long time. Your reflections on responsibility and freedom have also given me a great deal to ponder further. I'm going back now to read it one more time.
Thank you for this — I'm so glad. Have read your comment over again too. Am so glad that all of this resonated, especially as you were there then. Nice to hear about Miller 😊. The indulgence and care thing — it feels big to me too. Stunning to think that when one feels one is being kind to oneself — reading instead of eating! — it may be simply beause one has not distinguished between the two…
Thank you for this — I'm so glad. Have read your comment over again too. Am so glad that all of this resonated, especially as you were there then. Nice to hear about Miller 😊. The indulgence and care thing — it feels big to me too. Stunning to think that when one feels one is being kind to oneself — reading instead of eating! — it may be simply beause one has not distinguished between the two…
So much of this resonates. The recurring dream.. in mine, I shed HS with the realization I have my Masters degree and I don’t have to do whatever the thing is in my dream. . an exam. A social scene. Also, for years and years, after visiting “the old country” of my grandparents, I dreamt of returning, of a train I was supposed to get on to go back. To Sweden.
As for indulgences vs care, as a child of painters in Brooklyn in the 70s, indulgences were everywhere, but often not the structure needed to feel secure… endemic to childhood in that era, I think. Gorgeous piece, Maria.
Remarkable, about the dream. See Victoria's comment, too — apparently this is a universal! I had no idea. It sounds as though yours ended, like mine, largely with a sense of relief. On coming back to Sweden: please do! Let me know and I'll meet you for fika. Always welcome. Indulgence vs care — yes, I do wonder if it's something about that era that's unusual. The indulgence wasn't in material things or junk food, etc, but more a deeper feeling of freedom that sometimes maybe was/is not the same thing as caring for oneself. Fascinating. And thank you so much for the kind words!
Fika! That’s what my relatives served in the afternoon instead of “lunch”. Soo many pastries. This explains a lot! (36 years later.) Thank you for the warm invitation and this fascinating piece. I agree, self care is very different (and requires self knowledge).
Yes, fika matters! But you're supposed to have lunch too😊. And very welcome! You know, in all honesty, I'm not sure that it does require self-knowledge. It may be as simple as thinking of what one would do if it were for someone under one's care instead of for oneself. At least, that's a way in for me…
I have been saving this to read, Maria, and so glad I did - but now I want to go away and as the always insightful Deborah Vass says in the comments here, mull it over! I mentioned to you that I am reading Susanna Crossman's recent memoir Home Is Where We Start, about utopias (and the failure of) and her experience of growing up in a UK commune. (My TLS review of this won't be out for a few weeks I'm guessing, but I will put down some brief thoughts shortly.) Struck by your paragraph 'This morning, writing this, I was so caught up that I decided to keep going instead of eating. There is also not really anything in the house to eat' and how this is indulgence, not care - will be thinking about this on my morning walk too. My review in this week's TLS is of A Mudlarking Year - also interesting.
Thank you so much, Ann! I'm so glad. On indulgence vs care — it really is interesting, isn't it? It looks so different when one thinks of oneself in that way; I'm still thinking it through.
Just read your sentence ”It is said that after tobacco arrived from the New World in the late sixteenth century, Queen Elizabeth took a discreet pull on a clay pipe before deciding against smoking.” What a fantastic start to your review of the mudlarking book! I may have to take out a subscription to the TLS just to be able to read the full review and future pieces like the one on the Crossman book — am looking forward to your take on it, as the books sounds interesting and I'll surely read it eventually.
Thank you for this wonderful piece. I got into Milosz's poetry earlier this year after seeing it quoted in a book by Federico Campagna. I've been gradually working my way through his Collected Poems 1931-2001 (Penguin) and finding so much there that I want to return to. I also picked up the anthology of international poetry that he edited, A Book of Luminous Things. I didn't know about the Hoffman book, but I'm a big fan of her book Time, and Lost in Translation, so I'll have to read that.
I really liked the connections you made to your own experiences and your account of discovering a writer through the work of another writer, a process you're continuing with your own essay.
You've given me several books to go in search of now too, especially the two poetry volumes. I hadn't heard of Eva Hoffman's Time book, and will check it out. Her Lost in Translation left a deep impression, though oddly I can only remember a few specific scenes from it; one remembers the feel of it so much. This new book of hers is truly is a delight, so I think you'll enjoy it.
Frederico Campagna is a new name to me; will take a look.
Maria, there’s so much in this essay that I’ve read it three times. I particularly enjoyed Milosz’s reflections on hereness, your memory of the train trip to your roots, and your friend’s observation about how the air travels.
Thank you for reading and commenting — it is so much appreciated. I'm glad that there was something there that added. You know, on the train trip: to write this I actually dug up the short travelog that I did at the time, but never published, and did in fact wonder if readers here might enjoy it. It has photos from the train as well. Maybe will take another look and consider posting it. Thanks, Rona!
Ps, I meant to say — I was already wrestling with this essay when your moving essay “Here I am” came out. So was thinking of Milosz when reading yours.
What a fantastic review and analysis. Will I find some of Milosz's poems in Czeslaw Milosz, Visions from San Francisco Bay? I would love to read more. You've inspired a poem with the "I am here" excerpt. Beautiful.
I’m so glad! Is there a chance of posting the new poem where one might read it? (On that topic, too, you might enjoy Rona Maynard’s recent piece ”Here I am” — will dig up the link in a moment and add it.)
There are no poems in the San Francisco Bay book, which I think might be out of print in any case. I’m truly not sure which collection to begin with, but can recommend Hoffman’s excellent book as a starting point. It’s short — if it were a little shorter one might call it an extended essay instead — and accessible, and filled with M’s poetry.
https://open.substack.com/pub/ronamaynard/p/here-i-am?r=2u2cxe&utm_medium=ios
Really enjoyed this piece. Thank you.
I’m so glad!
Chapeau from Malpensa
Great reading while waiting for my flight back home.
Not the lightest — but am so glad that you liked this one! Good travels home now…
I am looking right now at a book that has lived on my shelves for many years: "On the Mesa: An Anthology of Bolinas Writing," edited by Joel Weishaus and published in 1971 by City Lights. It includes writing by Weishaus,, Arthur Okamura, Michael Bond, David Meltzer, Max Crosley, Robert Creeley, Ebbe Borrregard, Joanne Kyger, Tom Clark, Bill Berkson, Gordon Baldwin, John Doss, Keith Lampe, Bill Brown, John Thorpe, Lawrence Kearney, and Lewis Warsh. Maybe you knew some of these writers. I know well the salt air and the marine light of Bolinas, having lived in the Bay Area for many years. Your essay took me back. Thank you.
Oh, how marvelous! You know, I think that a 50-year anniversary follow-up anthology might have come out recently, though I haven't actually seen it yet. I'm so glad that this essay evoked that air and light — it does stay with one, doesn't it? I had no idea that I would be writing so much about Bolinas when I started this Substack, but it does seem to happen…. I,m glad that it feels worthwhile. And many thanks for the recommendation, which I just saw!
Another beautifully written and thoughtful piece.
Thank you so much!
What a lovely, moving essay. Your distinction between indulgence and care is spot-on I think, and I think you're right that children are very sensitive to (and very influenced by) the difference. Funnily enough, my recurring dream-place is not my childhood home, but boarding school; like you, the dream always involves an odd kind of reckoning with the (increasing) life gap between now and then. There must be some term in psychology or psychotherapy for this kind of specific location and age/stage to which one always returns in dreams, and what significance it has, but I'm afraid I don't know what it is.
Thank you — I'm glad. And how astounding about having the same dream! Amazing how what seems like a unique individual experience can turn out to be universal. In yours, does it feel right to realize that you have, in fact, moved on? This particular one of mine ended at some point, which I must say I was glad for.
On the indulgence vs care — I was a little shocked, on writing the essay, to realize how different one's care or lack of it for oneself looks if one were to substitute someone else as the object.
Skipping dinner because one was reading a good novel and didn't want to bother to cook for oneself has never struck me as unsual. But take the same sentence and substitute “for one's child' or ‘for one's elderly parent, and it is rightfully horrific, and perhaps should be for oneself as well…
For now this dream is still going, more than 27 years after I left school; interesting to see whether it will fade eventually! I always find it striking because I was only at boarding school for a couple of years from 15, so it's not really a childhood setting and wasn't my "home" in any meaningful sense. I did feel very safe and (in your sense) 'cared for' at school though and I think that is probably its valency. For the first 15 years or so the dream was always quite painfully nostalgic and I didn't really feel glad to have moved on. Since I married myself and had children the dream has become increasingly surreal and my sense (in the dream) of dislocation from it / surprise to be there has increased. It's always a benign setting though. I wonder whether it will eventually stop, as yours has.
Fascinating! See Eliza's comments above, as well. For mine, it was a good thing, I think, when the dream ended, but yours sounds different; warmer, somehow. Though perhaps all of these versions of the dream are about keeping a lighter hold on the past…So interesting, altogether.
Maria, I love this essay of yours so much, especially because you gave this reader a glimpse into how you wrestled to connect the pieces - that is personal essay writing in a nutshell. You also remind me how much I like Milosz’s poetry, the “thereness” of it. As I’ve told you before, I know that landscape well, having grown up in the Bay Area in the same era, and you really landed on the central contradiction of Bolinas and hippie counterculture in general - indulgence vs the kind of responsibility for others that real care involves. We’re still living with far too much validation of individual indulgence, something that has become truly icky to me in the libertarian era of tech billionaires.
I recently read a novel from the library, “The Witches of Bellinas,” which is a riif on Bolinas if a tech bro took it over and became a local guru. I doubt you’d like it - I didn’t much, but it made me think of you and a far more nuanced portrait of a place 😉
Thank you, Martha! This means so much. On the writing and the content both — I'm so glad. It still feels like a tangle, because there was so much good there. It makes me happy that you think that is this getting at the contradictions.
How lovely that Milosz was already part of your poetry world! I will have to read more of him now, and love this “thereness” phrase. Much of what Eva Hoffman included in her book is now in my head: it's the kind of verse that sticks.
Oof, about the novel! Fascinating, and I'm glad to know of it, but will indeed skip it from this description. Again thanks for the kind words.
(Originally posted this as a new comment, not a reply, by mistake…)
What a beautiful piece.
Thank you! That mans a lot — I'm so glad.
*means, not mans 😊
What an exquisite essay! You have taken me on a journey with words, accompanied by your thoughts, feelings, memories and discovery of a writer who has given you a key to a deeper understanding of your life and where you are now. I can understand how it was hard to stop writing with all of this coming together for you in such a heady mix. I could connect to the memories with ease, I never liked Miller. I have lived in California all of my life, including time in the Bay Area from 1967-71 while studying at Berkeley. I did not realize that the reason the sea air here than the East Coast is that the ocean currents go East to West and this air has crossed the ocean. Your realization, that 'indulgence is not the same as care' will also stay with me a long time. Your reflections on responsibility and freedom have also given me a great deal to ponder further. I'm going back now to read it one more time.
Thank you for this — I'm so glad. Have read your comment over again too. Am so glad that all of this resonated, especially as you were there then. Nice to hear about Miller 😊. The indulgence and care thing — it feels big to me too. Stunning to think that when one feels one is being kind to oneself — reading instead of eating! — it may be simply beause one has not distinguished between the two…
Thank you for this — I'm so glad. Have read your comment over again too. Am so glad that all of this resonated, especially as you were there then. Nice to hear about Miller 😊. The indulgence and care thing — it feels big to me too. Stunning to think that when one feels one is being kind to oneself — reading instead of eating! — it may be simply beause one has not distinguished between the two…
So much of this resonates. The recurring dream.. in mine, I shed HS with the realization I have my Masters degree and I don’t have to do whatever the thing is in my dream. . an exam. A social scene. Also, for years and years, after visiting “the old country” of my grandparents, I dreamt of returning, of a train I was supposed to get on to go back. To Sweden.
As for indulgences vs care, as a child of painters in Brooklyn in the 70s, indulgences were everywhere, but often not the structure needed to feel secure… endemic to childhood in that era, I think. Gorgeous piece, Maria.
Remarkable, about the dream. See Victoria's comment, too — apparently this is a universal! I had no idea. It sounds as though yours ended, like mine, largely with a sense of relief. On coming back to Sweden: please do! Let me know and I'll meet you for fika. Always welcome. Indulgence vs care — yes, I do wonder if it's something about that era that's unusual. The indulgence wasn't in material things or junk food, etc, but more a deeper feeling of freedom that sometimes maybe was/is not the same thing as caring for oneself. Fascinating. And thank you so much for the kind words!
Fika! That’s what my relatives served in the afternoon instead of “lunch”. Soo many pastries. This explains a lot! (36 years later.) Thank you for the warm invitation and this fascinating piece. I agree, self care is very different (and requires self knowledge).
Yes, fika matters! But you're supposed to have lunch too😊. And very welcome! You know, in all honesty, I'm not sure that it does require self-knowledge. It may be as simple as thinking of what one would do if it were for someone under one's care instead of for oneself. At least, that's a way in for me…
Such a beautifully written and moving piece.
Thank you! I'm so glad that it offered something — it matters to hear it. And thank you for for restacking it 🙏
I never know what to expect but always come away mulling over what you have written. They are a joy.
Oh my heavens, thank you. This helps to make it feel that they’re worth writing. .
I have been saving this to read, Maria, and so glad I did - but now I want to go away and as the always insightful Deborah Vass says in the comments here, mull it over! I mentioned to you that I am reading Susanna Crossman's recent memoir Home Is Where We Start, about utopias (and the failure of) and her experience of growing up in a UK commune. (My TLS review of this won't be out for a few weeks I'm guessing, but I will put down some brief thoughts shortly.) Struck by your paragraph 'This morning, writing this, I was so caught up that I decided to keep going instead of eating. There is also not really anything in the house to eat' and how this is indulgence, not care - will be thinking about this on my morning walk too. My review in this week's TLS is of A Mudlarking Year - also interesting.
Thank you so much, Ann! I'm so glad. On indulgence vs care — it really is interesting, isn't it? It looks so different when one thinks of oneself in that way; I'm still thinking it through.
Just read your sentence ”It is said that after tobacco arrived from the New World in the late sixteenth century, Queen Elizabeth took a discreet pull on a clay pipe before deciding against smoking.” What a fantastic start to your review of the mudlarking book! I may have to take out a subscription to the TLS just to be able to read the full review and future pieces like the one on the Crossman book — am looking forward to your take on it, as the books sounds interesting and I'll surely read it eventually.
Thank you for this wonderful piece. I got into Milosz's poetry earlier this year after seeing it quoted in a book by Federico Campagna. I've been gradually working my way through his Collected Poems 1931-2001 (Penguin) and finding so much there that I want to return to. I also picked up the anthology of international poetry that he edited, A Book of Luminous Things. I didn't know about the Hoffman book, but I'm a big fan of her book Time, and Lost in Translation, so I'll have to read that.
I really liked the connections you made to your own experiences and your account of discovering a writer through the work of another writer, a process you're continuing with your own essay.
How lovely, thank you! I'm glad it resonated.
You've given me several books to go in search of now too, especially the two poetry volumes. I hadn't heard of Eva Hoffman's Time book, and will check it out. Her Lost in Translation left a deep impression, though oddly I can only remember a few specific scenes from it; one remembers the feel of it so much. This new book of hers is truly is a delight, so I think you'll enjoy it.
Frederico Campagna is a new name to me; will take a look.
Thank too for the restack!
Maria, there’s so much in this essay that I’ve read it three times. I particularly enjoyed Milosz’s reflections on hereness, your memory of the train trip to your roots, and your friend’s observation about how the air travels.
Thank you for reading and commenting — it is so much appreciated. I'm glad that there was something there that added. You know, on the train trip: to write this I actually dug up the short travelog that I did at the time, but never published, and did in fact wonder if readers here might enjoy it. It has photos from the train as well. Maybe will take another look and consider posting it. Thanks, Rona!
Ps, I meant to say — I was already wrestling with this essay when your moving essay “Here I am” came out. So was thinking of Milosz when reading yours.
Have already put a link to your essay lower in the comments, but here it is again, for folks who want more on “hereness” just now: https://open.substack.com/pub/ronamaynard/p/here-i-am?r=2u2cxe&utm_medium=ios
So good to know, Maria. We fertilize one another’s thinking here.
Train travel diary added now as a follow-up post, in case of interest to you or others.