As a child, one of my all time favorite stories was The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane. At the time I was very unsure as to why this story touched me so much. Later on in my childhood I had the same sort of reaction to All Quiet on the Western Front by Remarque. As an adult, I understand to some degree that these stories helped me to have an imaginary connection with my father who had fought in Viet Nam and though loving, has a distance about him that comes with the atrocity of war.
In writing these blogs, I often hope to share and discover what the world has to offer in the magical world of language. I don't do as much reading anymore (insert adult onset ADD here) and find it harder and harder to just sit still. It is a shame because the worlds encased in books make life so interesting. It is also hard to push the teenager to read more when she doesn't see mom with a book in her hand for more than 5 minutes. Either way, reading is magic. We all should do it more. Now back to Stephen Crane.
Tonight I was looking up poets that existed in the 1900's and low and behold there was Stephen Crane's name. What? I never knew that he wrote poetry. In fact, I never knew him for anything other than The Red Badge of Courage. By nature I am not an investigator that way. I love stories and music and art for what they are to me in that moment of life. I have never been one to dig below the surface into the life or extended works of an artist or writer. This is a character flaw on my part, but one that I live with daily.
If you want to jump into the long and connected life of Stephen Crane you can scroll through his Wiki page. Today I just want to share a very short, cutting poem from his collection The Black Riders & Other Lines, 1905.
Yes, I have a thousand tongues
Yes, I have a thousand tongues,
And nine and ninety-nine lie.
Though I strive to use the one,
It will make no melody at my will,
But is dead in my mouth.
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