In 1947, William Stafford published his first book with the Brethren Press. Now, 42 years later, he has come full circle. His new book of poems, "A Scripture of Leaves," is from the Brethren as well.
Stafford spoke about the book during the Desert Writers Workshop. He felt he'd produced a book that worked both as a religious work and also as literature.He has. But then soft-spoken spirituality and Christian plain style play to Stafford's strengths. He is a "pastoral" poet in both senses of the word. He writes about the rurals, but there's also a ministering quality to his work that nurtures and nourishes. He's what the Jewish community would call a "mensch" - an honorable soul. He's also something of a universal soldier. Like Anthony Quinn, his features could fit in a dozen cultures. He's been mistaken for an American Indian and a Japanese elder. He could probably pass as Eskimo.
But if his face has a universal quality, his poems have more. In "A Scripture of Leaves" Stafford displays a spirit as large as outdoors, but small enough to fit in the flames of votive candles.
In this age of criticism, of course, not everyone is quite as taken with the man and his work. Though Stafford has served as poetry consultant for the Library of Congress and won the National Book Award, critics often question his credentials or feel his poems are "soft" or accuse him of "calculated sincerity." At one point a poet on the University of Utah faculty used profanity to describe the man and refused to allow him to read on campus.
Those acquainted with Stafford himself - or his poetry - find the fact he's seen as a threat to be bizarre at best and - at worst - probably an example of professional paranoia. Most people who dig into the poetry soon come to appreciate its gentle authenticity.
With "A Scripture of Leaves" we meet a Stafford who has become intrigued with the shapes and shadows that hover just behind the natural world. It's a world that has something of Frost's darkness to it - without the death wish - and something, too, of the mystic's deep vision. These are not poems of passion and praise, however. Stafford's no preacher. In his own words he's "a poet, alas;" an observer captivated by hints of the Great Mystery.
OUT CAMPING
Today comes walking over the water
in the early morning. A bird scribes
the skin of the lake. Everything trembles.
Ours is the world of the swallow wing,
a scene turning and curving, and we are
in it, scribing our own reflection of heaven.
As always, there's a human scale to Stafford's work here. We see a lot of nature, but - as with Frost - there's often a person in the scene. Past poems, with lines such as "God is not big, He's right," gave Stafford the reputation of an American Zen master.
With this latest collection and its shadowy presences, he seems to have moved a bit further along the path toward enlightenment.
"A Scripture of Leaves" sells for $7.95 and is published by The Brethren Press, 1451 Dundee Ave., Elgin, IL 60120.