The perennially popular poet's newest collection combines lyrics of love and romance with a multilayered mystical perspective on life, the land, and personal history and includes nearly a dozen sonnets
Rod McKuen (born April 29, 1933) was a bestselling American poet, composer, and singer, instrumental in the revitalization of popular poetry that took place in the 1960s and early 1970s.
Born Rodney Marvin McKuen in Oakland, California, McKuen ran away from home at the age of eleven to escape an alcoholic stepfather and to send what money he could to his mother. After a series of jobs, from logger, ranch hand, railroad worker to rodeo cowboy, throughout the west, McKuen began in the 1950s to excite audiences with his poetry readings, appearing with such well-known poets as Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg; during this time, he often used the pseudonym "Dor".
McKuen moved to New York City in 1959 to compose and conduct for the TV show The CBS Workshop. By the 1960s he had achieved fame, far surpassing in sales the works of the Beat poets who preceded him. During the early 1960s he spent most of his time in France. This began his project to translate the work of legendary singer/songwriter Jacques Brel, into English. After Brel died he said, "As friends and as musical collaborators we had traveled, toured and written - together and apart - the events of our lives as if they were songs, and I guess they were. When news of Jacques’ death came I stayed locked in my bedroom and drank for a week. That kind of self pity was something he wouldn’t have approved of, but all I could do was replay our songs (our children) and ruminate over our unfinished life together."[1]
He became an icon across college campuses for his ability to capture in verse the feelings of anxiety, love, confusion, and hope that were common during the Vietnam era. His public readings had the drawing power of a rock concert.
McKuen's commercial success is unparalleled in the field of modern poetry. His poetic works have been translated into a dozen languages and sold over 65 million copies. Throughout his career he has continued to enjoy sell-out concerts around the world and appears regularly at New York’s famed Carnegie Hall.
Edward Habib's liner notes for McKuen's Amsterdam Concert album make the often-repeated claim that Rod McKuen is the best-selling and most widely read poet of all time. This claim is probably rooted in the fact that McKuen's works -- unlike those of Shakespeare or Dante Alighieri -- are copyrighted, and his total sales can be more readily quantified.
As a songwriter, he contributed to the sale of over 100 million records. His material has been recorded by such artists as Frank Sinatra (who in 1969 recorded A Man Alone, an album of McKuen's songs), Johnny Cash who (just before his death) recorded McKuen's "Love's Been Good To Me", Waylon Jennings, The London Philharmonic, Greta Keller, Perry Como, and Madonna. Perhaps his most well-known song is "Jean", recorded by Oliver in 1969 for the soundtrack to the film The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie. In 1959, McKuen released a novelty single on the Brunswick label called "The Mummy". Bob Mcfadden and Dor was listed as the artist.. In 1961, he had a hit single titled "Oliver Twist".. McKuen has proven to be a prolific songwriter, penning over 1500 songs. He collaborated with a variety of internationally renowned composers, including Henry Mancini and John Williams, and a highly successful series of albums with Anita Kerr. His symphonies, concertos, and other classical works have been performed by orchestras around the globe. His work as a composer in the film industry has garnered him two Academy Award nominations.
Throughout his multi-award-winning career, McKuen paired his artistic endeavors with a spirit for social reform. Before a tour of South Africa in the 1970s, McKuen demanded “mixed seating” among white and black concert-goers, opening the doors for successful tours by a variety of African-American performers, including Sammy Davis, Jr. and Ella Fitzgerald. He also spearheaded efforts to raise AIDS awareness and fund charities for children and senior
This book is one of the last published by McKuen, and it exemplifies what I see as a trend in his poetry -- that of increasing obscurity. In his earliest days, fresh from the "beat" poets of the 1950s, McKuen became a kind of transitional voice between the Ginsburg-like voices and those of more classically-0riented blank-verse poets (including Frost). His first few books, focusing on the deeply emotive background of San Francisco, were somehow both more personal and more revealing than what's found here.
The paradox is perhaps explained in his introduction to Beyond the Boardwalk, where he says plainly that he is the poem and that the poem is him. Just as we may not separate the dancer from the dance, McKuen suggests that the poem and the poet are equally inseparable. In his earlier works, however (to stretch the metaphor to the breaking point), he is far more willing to display his heart and talents in ways that we can feel more directly; in his later works, his dance becomes more minimalist, less openly expressive, moving in ways that only suggest rather than impart his heart to us.
I discovered Stanyan Street & Other Sorrows in the early days of my melancholy adolescence. Now, as then, I am moved by the beauty of the images that I find there. His references are personal (written about a mood, or a person, or a place), yet I am able to relate to them directly. In this volume, the emotions are more hidden, the references more personal, as if he is afraid to risk showing too much of his heart. (Trust me -- I can relate. Some of what I write will never see the light of day, for fear of hurting those about whom I write.)
The down side here is that, while his earlier works speak to me even after more than four decades, these later works seem to slide past me as if they were even less than strangers on a train. Gone are the deep emotions that I could share, the empathy that came through McKuen's early words, and instead we are left with what feels more like -- pardon my Jacques Brel reference -- empty shells rather than starfish on the beach.
Perhaps because he spoke to me so deeply in my formative years, perhaps because I missed the chance to tell him in a letter or review just how much he helped me to feel, I am so disappointed in this collection. It is as if a great teacher is now merely mumbling words from his podium, too self-absorbed to make sure we understand his message. I much more readily recommend his earlier works above this collection. Adieu, mon cher, mon coeur. Je me souviens, et je t'...