Writers Hands VI, Josephine Dickinson, Fitzgerald Theater, St. Paul, Minnesota, April 2007, all photos © 2007 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.
Josephine Dickinson read her poetry at the Fitzgerald Theater last April, sharing the stage with her mentor, Galway Kinnell. She met Galway at a poetry reading at Morden Tower in Northumberland. She was drawn to his smile. They exchanged poems.
The first thing I saw was this lighted person. And then the smile. It’s an extraordinary smile; I don’t know of a smile that goes any wider. I think it’s related to the light. The smile and this light were combined.
Kinnell was so taken with her work, he introduced her to his editor at Houghton Mifflin. And that’s how they came to be on stage together in St. Paul, Minnesota in early Spring 2007.
After the reading, I bought Galway’s 11th book, Strong Is Your Hold. My friend Teri, a local writer and regular red Ravine reader, bought Silence Fell, Josephine’s 3rd. We stood in line and waited for the writers to sign their books.
When I wrote Ode to Galway Kinnell (We Are Not The Poem), Teri commented (Comment 6) that it was Josephine who inspired her most; she emailed two poems to me that night:
I remember more about Josephine (from that night) than Galway. How she was deaf, but became a music teacher. How she married that man that was so much older…wasn’t he about 90? How she wore the gloves and hat. How when we went up to have our books signed, she looked at us with deep gratitude. How her pace was so solid and grounded. That she was a sheep farmer. How her poetry made us all hold our breath.
The 45 poems in Silence Fell are set on Scarberry Hill, a sheep farm near Alston in northern England. When she moved there over 12 years ago, the Oxford educated poet, deaf from meningitis and childhood illnesses contracted at age 6, was in her 40’s. She fell in love with Douglas Dickinson, a local farmer with grown grandchildren, widowed and in his 80’s.
Josephine considered Douglas her muse. He still is. He died in 2004 at aged 92; she wrote Silence Fell. The book is divided into calendar months, starting with March, the beginning of a shepherd’s year. She still calls Scarberry Hill home and regularly visits the pool on the South Tyne which received Douglas Dickinson’s ashes.
December (Christmas Box)
We go feed the lambs. The wether
we were fattening for slaughter
is not there. I go look for him.
He lies apart. I stroke his head.
He stumbles to his feet. I drive
him to where the other lambs stand
and eat. He won’t look at the food,
stood with his back to them. He has
a look of profound disgust in
his eyes. We bathe the ewe’s feet. I
splash my eye. It stings. Snow swims in
shoals. We bury the lamb, go home.
We baptize him with a trickle
of water I coaxed from the stream
in a bucket. Stretched out and cold.
On the Horse Pasture, eyes open.
In the top far corner, on a
marshy piece of ground. Between the
stream and a marshy piece of ground.
With a crock of gold at each ear.
A rainbow hat to make a crock
of gold at each ear. A magic
dress for shepherding in the snow.
Gloves, striped green and blue. A velvet
and gold satin scarf. A magic
box of swords, a survival tool.
He lies apart. I stroke his head.
-from Silence Fell, poems by Josephine Dickinson, Houghton Mifflin Company, 2007
Where Were You When I Came In from the Evening Milking?
Where were you when I came in from the evening
milking?
Your chair sat empty by the fire, its cushion hollow,
And each room in the house was empty also.
Where were you?You were not in any of the house’s rooms.
I looked carefully in each one.
And the window view each looked out upon was empty.
Where were you?The mossy garden path stepped empty round
the corners of the house.
Thyme, ramsons, rosemary leapt in the breeze.
Where were you?I thought I glimpsed you once in your cap, slowly
shuffling on,
face down, intent on the cobbles.
You did not see me — the light shone through and you
were gone.
Where were you?I stood outside the house and looked in where a star
shone
from the west straight into the mirror.
I thought for a second you were standing there.
It was not you, it was the setting sun.
-from Silence Fell, poems by Josephine Dickinson, Houghton Mifflin Company, 2007
-posted on red Ravine, Wednesday, January, 9th, 2008
Read more about Josephine Dickinson in The Cumberland News article, Deafness gives poet the power of flight, 1/9/6 Josephine Dickinson
Listen to the whole Talking Volumes presentation at: MPR – Talking Volumes with Keri Miller: Two Poets Share the Stage – Galway Kinnell & Josephine Dickinson at the Fitzgerald Theater, St. Paul, Minnesota, April 12th, 2007.
Some research is from the Talking Volumes interview and excerpt, Kindred Spirits, by Sarah T. Williams (handed out the night of the reading). The full article ran in the Minneapolis StarTribune arts+entertainment section, April 2007.
redravine.wordpress.com 
Oh*my*gosh. I love these photos. These may be my favorite author hands yet, QM. Seeing the orange gloves in this way…oh, they are so extreme. It makes me love Josephine all the more. I’m glad the hat shot includes her long, thick braid.
This is what she wrote inside my copy of Silence Fell:
For Teri
Thank you so much for being here, for your welcome and kind words. All my very best wishes.
Josephine Dickinson
12th April 2007 St. Paul
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Teri, I was pleased with these photographs as well. I had to do some cropping for anonymity. And there was too much white space in the top one, so I cropped it out. But overall, I like them.
I’m always surprised at how they come out. I usually feel a little self-conscious. But so far, all the writers have gone out of their way to connect. And they’ve been totally willing to be photographed. Remember how rushed we can sometimes be when there’s a long line and writers are signing books?
The writers last year really took the time to talk to us during the book signings. It’s got to be hard to be on tour like that. I wonder if some writers like it and some don’t? I hope I get to find out some day. 8)
I love Josephine’s gloves. I was struck by them right away when they came out on stage. I wonder if it’s kind of a trademark for her?
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I forgot to mention, when writers have signed my books this year, I’ve started to pay attention to what they write. So I’m glad you added that to your comment. I remember when I used to practice singing my photographs. Now I’m practicing signing books.
So many questions – how do I want my signature to look? Any extra graphics? How large? What page (do I want to vary from the norm)? I’m acting as if. You know, studying the writers that came before us.
Josephine was very kind and grounded in demeanor. She seemed very appreciative to be there. And for her readers.
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I love the gloved hands, and I don’t just mean the shot, but the actual gloves. Those are gorgeous! So thick and soft looking. And shiny. And that she wears a funny little cap that I associate with being on a boat.
The two poems that you reprinted just blew me away. A sadness and solidness. They seem to describe a person who in loss has not veered from routine, who goes about the day with something missing, yet still goes about the day.
I once knew a woman who married a man who was about 50 years older than her. This woman, a coworker, was in her early- to mid-30s, and the man in his mid-80s. He was a brilliant academic, she a quirky, eccentric academic in the same field. She admired him immensely. It was a strange relationship, strange to someone like me anyway. He was in poor health for much of it, and she was very caring, very care-taking.
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Speaking of age differences, this is how Josephine’s poem
“The Bargain” begins:
Douglas: I won’t treat you as a deaf person.
Josephine: Well, I won’t treat you as being eighty-seven.
When she spoke that night of her elderly husband, it was with complete acceptance. There was no need in her to justify to us such a union: they simply adored each other. Age didn’t seem to matter.
Though I couldn’t do it, I find people who break the norms like that inspiring. Walking their own path despite the status quo.
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Age differences in relationships are fascinating. I bet there is a whole area of study on that somewhere. Josephine was completely comfortable when speaking of Douglas. If I remember correctly, she left another relationship to go and live with him on the sheep farm. She spoke as if he was kind of connected to her soul.
I wonder what it is about age? I am a person drawn to those at least a few years younger than I am (and I guess, they are drawn to the “older” me). There is over a decade between Liz and me (the biggest gap in age I’ve experienced) but most times it makes no difference at all. Only to our “coming of age” references like music, sayings, words (words like “thongs” that ybonesy and I were talking about in the orangutan post (LINK)).
I don’t think I could do a 40 or 50 year gap though. It just seems like too much distance for me. But never say never. I’ve lived long enough to know I should never rule anything out.
There has been a lot of publicity lately about women who are being labeled “cougars” dating younger men. I say more power to them.
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Those are some gorgeous gloves. I want a pair for myself. I loved the second poem. Thanks for sharing these.
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teaspoon, welcome back. Hope you are well. The second poem has a longing to it. The loss is palpable to me. Yet the poem still feels centered to me. Solid. But the longing…sometimes I’m amazed that the arrangment of simple letters and words can pull up that kind of emotion.
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The Dickinson poem reminds me of a theme I circle, that absence has a presence. It did have a sense of longing that engaged me; the closing lines are so gentle and bittersweet.
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QM,
When Josephine talked about leaving her other relationship for Douglas, it was as though she walked up the hill, saw him, and just kept walking toward him without every looking back. I remember thinking, “Did she go back to the other guy’s house to get her clothes?” She made it sound like she just transitioned. Period. It must have been more complex than that.
I saw a woman downtown last night with the Josephine gloves. She wore ones that were bright red.
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Ivy, thanks for stopping by. I just checked out your blog. It seems like a peaceful place. Absence having a presence – yes, it resonates with me, too. I guess in that way, what is lost is never far from us. Especially with people.
Teri, I remember that, too. How matter of fact she was about it. I bet it wasn’t like that at the time, but who knows for sure. I chuckled at your line, “Did she go back to the other guy’s house to get her clothes?” It was kind of like that. 8)
The woman in downtown Minneapolis with Josephine gloves – what was she doing? Walking down the street, shopping, reading, writing? Just curious. I have a pair of bright red gloves that are very soft. I love them.
I keep them in the car with my puffy down jacket that I call the Michelin Tire Man jacket. It’s part of my Minnesota winter emergency kit. And stays there all year long with my Sorrels, matches, umbrellas. 8)
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I was in a focus group last night for Subaru owners. Gina was sitting next to me in her Josephine gloves. I remembered how fond ybonesy was of the gloves, so asked Gina where she got them. Macy’s, ybonesy.
Interestingly enough, this woman was wearing an outfit that looked like baby-doll pajamas–nothing like our earthy, sheep-farming, thick-braided poet.
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Therein lies the beauty of the gloves, Teri. You can dress them up, dress them down. They can be earthy or glitzy, but either way they’re sensuous. Ah, Macy’s.
I have a secret to let you in on. My mother is a glove shopping-aholic. She buys gloves at Macy’s and Dillards, in particular, when they have been discounted from $28/pair to $4/pair. You can go to the secret cupboard (or whatever a cupboard is called when it’s used for storing things other than cups) in her bedroom, where she’ll pull out a big plastic bin that is loaded with new, never worn, discounted gloves. I bet you anything she has a pair of chenille-like gloves from Macy’s!!!
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Absence having a presence — yes, that’s a good way to describe what I “felt” in those poems. Glad you stopped by, Ivy. I found your writing to have a poetic quality to it.
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Thank you for your responses here and for visiting my blog.
A peaceful place, I am happy to hear that reaction to my blog, QuoinMonkey. I know that I am seeking ways to find it. I enjoy your reflective work.
Poetry was my first love, it was good to hear you saw it in my writing, Ybonesy. I like your playful writing.
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I had wanted to comment on this post before now, but wasn’t exactly certain of my feelings, as I had many thoughts running through my head as I was reading it.
QM, I agree with Teri, that this is my favorite artists hands photo yet. It isn’t only the orange gloves. I own a pair myself (orange is my favorite color) though mine are not as beautiful as hers are! I like the smile on her face. She seems to be very content sitting there & signing book after book. I plan on adding Silence Fell to my shopping list. red Ravine is going to cause me to go broke!
I came back to it today & wanted to comment on the age difference between her & Douglas. I thought it wonderful that she had found her soulmate & didn’t allow the huge gap in their ages to stand in the way of her admiration for him. I know what she means by walking toward him & never looking back. I rarely think about or discuss my relationship with my ex-husband. I don’t look back, I look forward. I have found my soulmate in J.
The poetry is especially touching. My favorite is the last one.
D
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diddy, I didn’t know orange was your fave color! I’ll have to check out your orange gloves next time I’m home. 8) Josephine has a very kind smile. I snapped a shot of her and Teri, too, right after she signed Teri’s book (that’s Teri’s hand reaching into the photo), and Joesphine’s smile and eyes are filled with gratitude and warmth.
I’m so glad you are inspired to buy her book. We support other artists and writers a great deal by actually purchasing their books and art.
I am glad you have found your soulmate in J. What a wonderful man he is, too. I don’t think everyone feels that in their lifetime (that they have found their soulmate). Maybe it’s just not their karma this time around. So it’s such a gift to have found that kind of love.
About looking back, you know, something I have discovered is that lesbians often maintain relationships with ex-lovers and partners. Some of my best friends are ex’s. 8) I don’t know if it’s the gender thing again, or what. But that’s been my experience. And then I find that many straight couples are so happy to move on. They never look back or remain friends. Why is that? I’ve never been able to figure it out.
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Ah, I wanted to mention, another thing that happens is that one half of a partnership not only loses the partner, but also the family of the partner after divorce or break up. I’ve never understood that. What if a person is closer or as close to their partner’s or spouse’s family than they are to their own. Why does the end of a relationship mean that people lose all the family connections on the other side?
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QM, I am certainly not a writer or artist. But I was always an enthusiatic reader & have always had an interest in artists works whether it be paintings, photography, drawings, sculptures, or whatever the form. My own mother is truly a great artistic person. She mostly used oils & acrylics in her artwork. She doesn’t paint much anymore. Years ago she emptied out the contents of a dozen chicken eggs & painted the story of the three little pigs for me! Quite detailed & so intricate. I must say that I tend to enjoy water colors & would love to try my own hands at it.
Alas, my many years in the Transportation industry left me with very little time to read. The satellite communications that were sent between the drivers & managers were quite costly & for years I was forced into abbreviating my words, therefore my spelling skills and grammar have suffered greatly.
As for past relationships ,I think gender is not an issue. I know many couples for whom frienships can continue after the the relationship has ended. I know J has a cordial relationship with his ex. You know, but most other readers don’t know, that my sons are actually my stepsons. I have no place in my heart for the word step when referring to them. I love them both & they have brought great joy into my life.
BTW, both of my grandmothers loved writing poetry! D
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Yikes, I got carried away in my last comment(that’s the babbling brook in me) that I almost forgot to mention that I have not had the time to print Jim’s photo out yet. I was delighted to read both yours & YB’s comments in the e-mail you sent. I need help when it comes to printing out photos.
When I do get it printed I have full intentions of replying to YB & Jim. I also wanted to share with you that I check out your photos on Flickr quite often. You never fail to amaze me with your talents! D
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This idea of remaining friends with exes… well, I kind of wonder, too, why some people can and others can’t. I’ve always reached out in friendship to ex-loves, and only a couple have been receptive. (Here, I’m sounding a bit ala Julio Iglesias — Of all the girls — make that boys — I’ve loved before…)
It all seems to be in the openness of the individual. Both Jim and I are friends with my first serious boyfriend. The ex-boyfriend’s sister was Dee’s first-grade teacher, and when the teacher’s (and my ex-boyfriend’s) mother came to visit the class one day and got introduced to Dee, the mother said, “You were supposed to be *my* grandchild!” The mom said it half in jest, and of course, Dee didn’t have any idea why the mom said that. We all later laughed about it — that mom *really* wanted me to marry her son, even though I was only 17. (She and her husband married at 17, so they saw nothing wrong with us following in their footsteps.) But we stay in touch with the whole family, go to parties occasionally at my ex-boyfriend’s house, etc.
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YB, I think a lot of it depends on the circumstances that caused the relationship to end. In J’s case he had every reason to be hurt & angry, however there were children involved. One of the things I admired most about him was that he never spoke poorly to them about their mother. I would like to add that I began my relationship with J a few years after his divorce. I did not know him prior to that. The children were still young when they entered into my life. It was a package deal & I knew that from the beginning. For years his ex-wife & I spoke often on the phone. We still attend events together, especially those involving the children or our grandson. It was not until last year around Christmas time, that I realized that she was using our conversations to gain information from me. I have since then kept our relationship to that of a cordial nature. I do however, remain eternally grateful to her for the nine months of pregnancy & labor that produced 2 wonderful children. They are a large part of my life! D
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i love the second poem. she seems so concrete in the “not” seeing that i see him too, shuffling, standing, there.
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I liked those poems a lot, they kinda soaked in slow rather than arriving like a thunderbolt. I also like that you included Teri’s comment because it gave a great sense of the impression Josephine’s reading left with her listeners.
It would be hard, I would think, for a poet to live up to the last name of Dickinson.
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diddy, I think you’re a great writer. If your comments are any indication, I see memoir in your future. 8)
Regarding the step-xxxx label, that’s a tough one. I’ve never used it with any of my siblings. It doesn’t even occur to me. Brothers and sister close to my heart. But when kids go through divorce, having step-parents can challenge the notion of never using step. What if there are several step-dads. Which do you call Dad?
For me it was different at different points in my life. And my blood dad was never a real dad to me. So, oddly, he doesn’t fall into that category at all. I struggle with this naming on the blog, since there are only words to portray the story and we don’t use birth names for anonymity purposes.
I try to make the connections and tell the stories with my writing and photographs. And regardless of the story, there is a lot of love there. Labels are a tough one. And compelling to think about.
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dream listener, you described it well – Josephine is so concrete in the “not seeing”, that you feel him there. In that sense, she’s using the negative space to tell the story, much the way I see you doing in your drawings. Thanks for stopping by.
amuirin, you, too, had a visual I could relate to – soaking in rather than shooting like a thunderbolt. The slow soak. It’s funny that you mention Emily Dickinson, too. I almost put something about the name in the piece. So I’m so delighted that you pointed that out. Not many can live up to the poetic romance of Emily.
It was fun to be able to include the comment that Teri made. It seems that it would be hard for writers to know what their audiences think. Except for the letters they send them. I remember Ann Patchett saying she received tons of letters from fans that read her books.
And Natalie read us a letter once from a woman in Germany who wanted her to visit there and quite a conversation ensued. Perhaps something we have to look forward to as writers. 8)
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diddy, I forgot to respond to your comment about the photography. Thanks for checking out my Flickr photos. It’s great to know they are being viewed. I plan in the future to set up a private Family set for family with some more personal photos. Just haven’t gotten to it yet.
Glad you are enjoying Jim’s photo. If you don’t want to print it right away (and I rarely print photos out anymore), you can make it your wallpaper on your computer. Or part of your screensaver photos. That is sometimes just as fun. And you still get to see it all the time.
When you do go to print it, I’d try printing the photo out on some normal paper first, to see what size the print looks best. Bearing in mind, that the photo has a lot of black in it and may use quite a bit of ink. So when you do go to print on the actual photo paper, make sure you’re using a full cartridge!
Something Liz and I noticed when we recently printed a few digital photos and shopped for photo printer paper, most of it comes already sized. And I think there were only about two choices for finish – matte and glossy.
Another idea is to put it on a disk and take it somewhere to have it printed. You can take it to a professional place. Here, for lower prices, places like Proex are better than Walmart or Target. Whatever you do, enjoy Jim’s great image!
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QM, thanks for the reply re: Jims photo. Using it as my wallpaper hadn’t occured to me. Duh! But J is very good at printing out photos, I will just need his assistance.
As far as the comment about the women in our family, well that is slowly changing. As the nieces & nephews become older it will change! In mine & J’s immediate family, all we need is a female grandchild & it will be even steven! (No hint to the boys, let it happen when you’re ready!) D
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Hallo, and I’m thrilled that you enjoyed the show so much, and the gloves and the poems! I want to say how much I enjoyed being there with such a special and appreciative audience. It was awesome being on stage with Galway and Keri.
I wonder if I might have permission to use your wonderful picture of the gloves on Facebook?? Don’t worry if not possible, I really love seeing the picture here.
I have a new book out in the UK in October – Night Journey, with Flambard.
I thought it was wonderful that you were still discussing this occasion nine months later, and, as it happened, on my birthday! I would love to be in touch. Do write, or get in touch on Facebook. Anyway, I will remember to log on to RedRavine regularly and participate in the writing!
Thanks, and love to you all – Josephine
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Josephine, we are just thrilled that you have found us at red Ravine and so appreciative that you have taken the time to comment. I am still pinching myself and had to reread your comment several times to make sure it was real. 8)
Seeing you and Galway at the Fitzgerald that night had a big impact on me. And I still do think about it all these months later. Thank you so much for sharing your poetry with us.
I am also thrilled that you would like to use the Writers Hands VI image of your gloved hands at the booksigning. It’s part of a larger series I am working on and it just makes my day that the writer in the image is interested in my photographic work. Thank you for asking permission and I will email you back this week about the photograph.
Again, we are thrilled to hear from you. Thank you so much for taking the time to write. Looking forward to your new poetry book, Night Journey.
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Josephine,
It is fabulous to hear from you! I hope finding QuoinMonkey’s post on you is as thrilling for you as seeing your comment is for everyone who reads red Ravine.
Will you be coming back to the Fitzgerald when Night Journey comes out? Please tell your publisher it *has* to be on your book tour. QuoinMonkey and I will be in the front row.
Do you still have sheep?
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Well, this surely is a treat, coming back from Taos and scanning through the comments that had come in over the weekend. I briefly noted the name “Josephine Dickinson,” thought to myself, I know that name. It wasn’t until I read the comment and realized, *That* Josephine Dickinson!
Well, several new readers — myself included — were introduced to your work via this post and both QM’s and Teri’s enthusiasm for the event that night. And those gloves — well, they are a great signature, like Hemmingway’s mojitos, but less destructive. Just kidding. 8)
Thanks so much for stopping in and commenting. Your poems really do move.
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