At the VIP reception beforehand—no, I’m not a VIP, but my pal Mark Stein managed to shoehorn Nina and me inside—a stellar cast of American poets prowled the room: John Ashbery, Robert Pinsky, Jorie Graham, Robert Hass, Rita Dove, Ed Hirsch. A few steps from the bar, clutching my champagne flute like festive prop, I almost failed to recognize Ashbery. He looks less studious without his glasses on, almost jolly, like the village toymaker in a Disney movie. I introduced myself and asked what he thought of Larissa MacFarquhar’s recent profile of him in The New Yorker. “That’s what everybody keeps asking me,” he replied. “You know, I used to have this recurrent dream where I was the only naked person in a crowded room. That’s exactly how I feel now.”
From James Marcus (House of Mirth). He goes on to talk about the other poets he met at The American Poetry Review’s 33rd birthday bash. – fun reading.
(oh, and yes, I know his post was from a while back, but I’ve been a bit busy)
Have you what. That has to be the understatement of the year. 80 members and rising over at Metaxucafe!!
– genevieve (12/04 at 06:57 PM)
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