I was struck by the inspiration of court records behind Reznikoff’s poetry; ones that depict a “unique, often violent history of American social life” (Modern American Poetry, 436). And certainly, his work does not shy away from portraying lives of poor immigrants in an harsh light. Reznikoff’s brief law and legal publishing career prologued his writing. He also initially wrote as an Imagist before incorporating social commentary into his work. For these reasons, I cannot help but wonder if his creative art was birthed from a need to somehow settle personal emotional disturbances that arose from the sheer brutality to which he was privy through the court records and, later, the inhumanity of World War II. Or perhaps he sought to disturb the comfortable in our American society by bringing attention to an alternate American panorama that some citizenry could otherwise easily avoid.
The current American political scene is heavily divided right now. Especially after its results, our country’s recent presidential election has led to extreme discourse from both conservative and liberal constiuents. Whether one more closely assimilates to the fear of another homeland terrorist attack, or that policy changes alongside the labeling of religious and ethnic groups could cripple democracy and lead to a totalitarian government, the dialogue all holds the same root emotion: fear.
Perhaps this is why Reznikoff’s excerpt from “Holocaust” was so striking this week. In light of recent political events and the overwhelming influx of opinions offered by way of Internet publication, we’ve likely all seen headlines that warn their readers against another genocide. Though this language is extreme, recent refugee immigration halts might leave some fearful of what response these policies might have on the way our nation views “the other.”
It is with these thoughts churning in the back of my mind that I began the reading for today. Reznikoff’s writing is so glaring and gut-wrenching that I wanted to see what happened when I substituted our modern-day ethnic communities into the place of true, historical loathsome acts. It was an uncanny experience, to say the least, and for better or worse I’ve decided to share it with the class.
I’ve catalogued this week under the creative tab, though the attached poem is more exact than an imitation, with only a few major edits that hopefully awaken both sides of this debate, to show us the impossible inhumanity that becomes possible if we let our fears consume us.
Laura, an interesting exercise to say the least. The effect is haunting, like a book from the Old Testament prophets telling of impending doom, or reporting it. That said, your substituting Muslim language immediately made me think about things that are currently happening, though not on American soil, but in the Middle East, where Muslims, Christians and other marginalized groups are having done to them the very acts of Holocaust by radical groups. Uncanny is certainly the word for the familiarity of these heartbreaking images.
I think this poem was a particularly bold move. To compare the attempted systematic execution of an entire race to the rising fears ignited by the travel ban might sound far-fetched, but that is the nature of the feeling of unease that a substantial portion of our population holds.
The use specifically of the National Guard is a chilling one, as the S.S. was the direct instrument of instilling fear in Nazi-occupied territory, but was not itself a military organization. To suggest that that would be the role of the National Guard in the world in which this poem takes place is extremely sobering.