The Grand Piano Part 3

by Steve Benson, Ron Silliman, Tom Mandel

Poetry. Cultural Writing. Memoir. THE GRAND PIANO 3 continues the experiment in collective autobiography begun over email by ten poets identified with Language poetry, who sought to reconnect their writing practicesand to recall and contextualize events from the period of the late 1970s. When completed, THE GRAND PIANO will comprise ten parts, in each of which the ten authors appear in a different sequence, often responding to prompts and problems arising in the series. In this issue, the order is Steve Benson, Tom Mandel, Carla Harryman, Rae Armantrout, Lyn Hejinian, Bob Perelman, Barrett Watten, Ted Pearson, Kit Robinson, and Ron Silliman.

128 pages, Paperback

First published April 1, 2007

Reviews

[Rodney · Rating 5 out of 5]

This "experiment in collective autobiography" catches the Language group graying at the temples and reflecting on their historic moment: the downslope of the '70s in a San Francisco that still enjoyed "low cost of living, available marginal employment, free play of alternative organizing principles." (Kit Robinson)

The "alternative organizing principle" here--10 contributors over a projected 10 volumes; authors identified by block initials; one memoirist occasionally responding to another--feels like so much chrome and fenders on a car that zips along just fine without them. ("We're all writing discursive sentences here, and isn't that odd?" says Perelman at one point). A lot of (interesting) talk about the writing and typesetting of books, a lot of protestations of not rightly remembering, with the Bay Area of that particular time and place kept strangely off in the wings, appearing mostly as street names to locate apartments. "If there's nothing out the window look at books."

"KR" sweetened the pot for me most, and really all of them left me wanting to read the other nine. I will.

[NOTE: the above refers to the latest installment, Vol. 3, of a projected 10-part series.]

[Andrew Maxwell · Rating 4 out of 5]

Ara Shirinyan lent me the first two books this week, and I read 'em through. For feel, it seemed almost a companion to HBO's "In Treatment": addictive, ponderous, exhausting, by turns inspired or rote, compelling or repellent. There's a lot of "analysis as play", which might aid the comparison. Some like Silliman opt for straight memoir, while Harryman and Perelman improvise actively. Hejinian always seems to ask the right and proper questions. It's easy to admire the sustained clarity (and, yes, responsibility) of a community of this size. There are few collectives of my generation that could be trusted through the thick not to mumble or dissemble in parts, or "pass" for the sake of participation in the sandbox of alterity or reform. Not that the seriousness and belated or retrospective 'urgency' captured here is always winning. The rigor rarely seems a posture, but sometimes the allowed fantasies of the authors feel pre-programmed or compartmentalized. Read it and tell me if I'm off-the mark.

In any case, this is a good project. I'll likely read the full series. Beautifully designed after a 20s rural development manual; ideal size and format.

[Bronwen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Any time I write about a book of poems, I’ve read it at least twice to give it time to sink in. This book fits into that category.

And interesting and beautiful book. Writers who once lived around SF and were associated with Language Poetry write about who they were/are, what they read, what they argued about, what has/hasn’t changed.

A bit like my afghan, The Grand Piano has 10 parts. Each has all 10 writers in a different order.

[Joshua · Rating 4 out of 5]

Beginning my journey down the Language Poets' memory lane.