When I think of May Swenson, I think of Ian Flemming - the creator of James Bond. After Flemming's death, more books were released with his name on them than were published during his lifetime.
Since Swenson's death in 1989, hardly six months goes by without a new collection of her poetry finding its way to bookshelves.The latest is "May Out West," a slight anthology of verse from USU Press featuring the poet's tributes to her native region.
It is a right-headed and worthwhile collection. First, Swenson did, in fact, write well and often about the West. But there's more than that. Although she wrote in many styles, Swenson's natural poetic voice had a "Western sound" - the same bald, bold music found in Wallace Stegner, Willa Cather, Richard Hugo, William Kittredge and Annick Smith. It is a voice that poet David Wagoner calls "blunt, beautiful American speech."
This example from the opening stanza of Swenson's poem "The Seed of My Father,' a poem published for the first time in this collection:
I rode on his shoulder. He showed me the moon.
He told me its name with a kiss in my ear.
"My moon," I said. "Yours," he agreed.
And as we walked, it followed us home.
Born in Logan, Utah, Swenson spent her formative years in Cache Valley, then took her regional voice to the East Coast where its honesty and power won her MacArthur, Rockefeller and Guggenheim Fellowships and helped her nail down prestigious awards such as The Bollingen Prize.
She taught, wrote and lectured in the East for most of her life, but - as many expected - she returned to Utah to find her rest. Today May Swenson is buried in the Logan cemetery with a bench for a monument and a personalized epitaph in stone. Her epitaph is a poem from this volume.
During her life she published 11 collections of verse and made herself into an indispensable American poet.
"May Out West" not only collects her Western poems, but collects her unmistakable style. The book comes as an unexpected gift. These are our poems, spoken in our voice. It is her fond farewell.
There are some reservations, of course. The problems with the book are the same as with all collections of this nature. By basing the book on a theme rather than poetic virtuosity, the editors have guaranteed some unevenness in the quality.
Several poems were included because of subject matter when, in truth, they appear to be second-tier efforts. "Bronco Busting, Event #1" struck me as such, as did the rhetorically self-conscious poem, "Beast." A couple of others likely would have been excised by the poet herself.
And the title of the book, though fun and appropriate, is probably too clever by half, especially with its unfortunate resonances of "May West."
Still, as a compilation of home-grown poems from a home-grown poet, "May Out West" is a keeper. It is a book that deserves prominent shelf space in the homes of all aficionados of regional literature.