Hungry to explore Zen and make the discoveries that would shape a lifetime of poetry, Joanne Kyger left for Japan in her twenties and returned four years later ready to carve out a substantial niche in San Francisco's Beat poetry movement. Whether she is studying under Zen teacher Ruth Fuller Sakaki or meeting with the Dalai Lama (who at 27 "lounged on a velvet couch like a gawky adolescent in red robes"), her journals are witty, amusing, and intelligent, in this fascinating look at the art of poetry and portrait of the counterculture abroad.
Joanne Kyger was an American poet. She published more than twenty books of poetry and prose. Kyger lived in Bolinas, California since 1968, where she edited the local newspaper. She also occasionally taught at the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics of Naropa University, in Boulder, Colorado.
Fantastically attentive and personal glimpse into a moment in time when Joanne Kyger was coming into her own as a poet in the company of Gary Snyder, Philip Whalen, Clayton Eshleman, and Allen Ginsberg-- a lot of male energy-- as well as artists such as the wonderful Mark di Suvero. She lives in Japan, travels to India, sees The Mother in Pondicherry, watches Ginsberg turn into an egocentric bore in front of the Dalai Lama, etc. Much of her wrestling with herself in her diaries can be seen, in retrospect, as her wrestling with the definitive and eclipsing forces of 1960's presumptions of masculinity. She is always gardening, wherever she goes. And that becomes one of the investments her later poems, written in Bolinas, draw so much of their phenomenal particularity from.
It's fascinating the way people talk to themselves. I don't know if every journal reads like this (haven't read many), but it's like a code. At first you wonder what some things mean and try to piece it together with the context. As you read along, you start to understand it better and better, and by the end you feel like you truly know how that person thinks, even though they can still catch you off guard and surprise you.
Joanne Kyger had a complex, beautiful code. So hard to crack that even at the end you wonder about what she was actually talking about in some of those thoughts she wrote. But I think that if you truly understand Kyger, it doesn't make sense to try to piece together all of it. With such vivid, natural and organic turns of phrase, the feeling gets through in a much more powerful way.
Feeling it will always be more powerful than understanding it. That's true for poetry and people aren't much different.
This book is a hoot. Joanne Kyger, as a 26-year-old, went to Japan to see Gary Snyder. "If you are going to live together, you must get married," said the head of the Zen Institute. So they did. It wasn't very successful, but the two of them were comrades while Gary studied and Joanne gardened, did flower arranging, thought about poetry and took care of the cats. Sounded like a somewhat hectic expat life in Kyoto from 1960 to 1964. Authenticity was important to Kyger, a spirited woman not afraid to call it like she sees it.
I'm glad I read this, but at the same time it's a really dry book that I wouldn't recommend to others. As Kyger writes in the introduction, "These journals were never rewritten or polished up for publication," and it's first and foremost someone's notebook, with all the to-do lists, lists of names of people she had dinner with the night before, etc, that come with the territory. I should also note that she was married to the legendary writer Gary Snyder at the time of these journals, which is what initially drew me to the book, but Gary's portrayed in a pretty unflattering light here (especially when he writes her a letter that says, "Why can't you ever have a meal ready on time?? And wash the dishes soon after")... Just a warning if you're approaching this book as a fan of his.
All of that said, there are gems and insights scattered throughout the book, like:
"I don't yet know how to share parts of my life with the other parts -- each clump of me wants to act independently and ignore the existence of anything else."
"I wish I had never known writing and then I'd be more content with what I am doing now instead of wishing I was proving myself by writing" [I relate to this one]
"In order to rise as a poet, craft of poetry must be studied and known... the craft should fit like a glove."
It was fun and nostalgic to read the musings of a young artist in her 20's, still trying to find herself and hungry to prove herself. I also liked the occasional gossip about the other Beat writers ("Reading Kerouac's Subterraneans. I keep putting him down until I start reading him then I can't.") As much as this book was a chore to get through, she seems like an old friend by the end of it, and it makes me want to read her books of poetry now.
I love these journals. Yes they are a fascinating and in-depth account of the life of expatriates in the early sixties in Japan, and yes, they are the record of a tumultuous relationship between one of the most important poets of the last 50 years (Gary Snyder)and his then wife, Joanne Kyger, who I count as one of the great poets of the post-beat generation. Most of all Strange Big Moon teaches us about great journal/diary style and the attempt to be as honest as possible with one's observations. This is also true of Kyger's wonderful poetry--if you haven't read it you are missing out. Through pleasure, disappointment, zazen and the perils of traveling (with Snyder and Allen Ginsburg), Kyger observes all with a keen eye and remarkable maturity. Read this journal for style and content, but most of all because it is a pleasure to read.
FINALLY a book about the woman's perspective on the beats. This was an awesome read and I felt like I really got to know Gary Snyder and Joanne Kyger through her journals. My good friend, Jared, recommended this to me before I departed on a trip to Japan - he lent it to me for my travels. Unfortunately, I didn't make it due to the tsunami - but I read the book anyways. Great read.
This is such a zen journal, true as advertised. Easy to consume in large bites despite being made of tiny pieces. A travel through Japan and India, but also through finding oneself and growing a marriage.
she reminds me of the simple human observer & my capacity to honor that in me & my own writing. what little things are you noticing? do you think everything matters? what about the persistent & determined work of writing & living? and another piece of the "beat history" drawn in to the puzzle.