A Fly in the Soup: Memoirs (Poets on Poetry)

Told in a decidedly non-chronological order, Charles Simic's A FLY IN THE SOUP [memoirs] (2000) is an episodic look at his early childhood in war-torn Belgrade (a city bombed by both the Germans and the Allies), with glimpses of an attempted winter escape through the mountains across the border with his mother and baby brother, only to be "repatriated" by the British army back to Yugoslavia where they spent some time in prisons. Later they emigrated to Paris, where they lived as "displaced persons" for several years before finally being approved to sail to the United States where they joined Simic's father in New York. There are detailed anecdotes of the hunger and poverty Simic faced in these years: playing with his friends in the show more ruins of Belgrade, stealing to survive, trying to adapt to school in Paris, not knowing the language, frequent truancy to go to movies all day. And, upon his arrival, how he learned English with his brother by watching TV all day. And reading, always reading (with a dictionary). The family moved from New York to Chicago, following his father's job. There Simic finished high school (in Oak Park) and moved out on his own, taking various jobs in Chicago and NYC until he was drafted into the Army where he served as an MP (military policeman) in Germany, and then France (because he spoke French). After the army he put himself into through college at NYU by working nights. (Me too, at CMU.)

I don't think I've read any of Simic's work, but I just looked him up and learned he died a couple years ago at 84. He published nearly forty books of poetry and numerous other books of essays, criticism and translations. He won the Pulitzer Prize for poetry and numerous other awards, and was also the U.S. Poet Laureate. Wow! I will readily confess I don't read a lot of poetry, but I do like a good memoir, and this one pushed a lot of buttons. His stories of being a reluctant draftee and his adventures as an MP in a small village in France were fascinating, bringing back some of my own experiences as a young GI in Germany and Turkey. And I also remembered my native Russian instructors at the Defense Language Institute telling us how they too learned English by watching endless hours of television when they first arrived in America.

Simic, an encyclopedic reader, has much to say about philosophy and poetry, saying, about the latter -

"What we love in it is its democracy of values, its recklessness, it's individualism, and its freedom. There's nothing more American and more hopeful than its poetry."

And he had this to say about "bad words," which seems especially relevant in our contentious, divided times -

"There are moments in life when true invective is called for, when there comes an absolute necessity, out of a deep sense of justice, to denounce, mock, vituperate, lash out, rail at, in the strongest possible language ... If anything I want to enlarge and perfect my stock of maledictions."

You get the idea, I'm sure. I am in awe of all that this "immigrant" accomplished, and using what was essentially his third language. Well done, Mr Simic. This is a fascinating book. Very highly recommended.

- Tim Bazzett, author of the memoir, BOOKLOVER show less