One might expect a writer's notebook to be pristine: sturdy leather binds, beautifully worn pages, if worn at all, with paper fit for a wedding invitation. The notebooks of W.S. Merwin, one of the most eminent poets in the world, are anything but beautiful.
They are tiny spiral notebooks made by Mead. The covers are discolored and tattered, holding onto the rings for dear life. The paper is thin and yellowed and almost loose-leaf. He carries them in a small clear plastic bag, like those in the produce section at the grocery store.
Yet their shabby appearance only belies what lies inside—a poetry lover's treasure chest, full of little-known poems by famous poets like Emily Dickinson, as well as by poets that few readers have ever heard of, much less read.
Merwin created the notebooks in the 1970s to carry the poems, and sometimes prose, that he could not stand to be without while traveling around the world. They were words he wanted to memorize, though he admits there are still some he never fully learned.
"The notebooks are very personal," Merwin said. "I'm not sure I want them to be published, nor am I sure they could be published as I don't remember where I found most of these."
Merwin's collection is wide ranging. There are words by poets who were Merwin's contemporaries. Words by men he never knew who died in wars and were simply writing home to loved ones. Words by Chinese writers, Israeli poets, Norwegian peasants, English legends.
What they do have in common is the sense of emotion, the sense of awe that comes from hearing them aloud. In Merwin's view, these poems are an expression of the things you cannot say: the loss you experience, the beauty you see, the love you feel.
"Prose has a specific subject," Merwin said. "Poetry, on the other hand, is about what cannot be said. Look at 9/11, everyone ran out to the bookstores and they didn't buy fiction or non-fiction, they bought poetry. Why? Because they didn't know what to say. What do you say when a loved one dies? When you get sick? When your dog dies?"
For Merwin, when he reads aloud, he is hoping for that small moment of recognition, when something in the words moves him and his listeners to recognize a part of themselves, to be inspired, to be reinvigorated.
"All of the arts have to do with recognition," Merwin said. "That's why there are three things I think everyone must do: one, read aloud until you hear the words when you read; two, read for pleasure even if you only want to read Hallmark cards; three, memorize the words you like."