This article is an installment of Katia Graham’s new series of columns for the La Jolla Light called “Overdue Column: A Love Letter to Libraries, Literature and Locals.”
What am I reading? The same thing as you, unfortunately — news of the unspeakable horrors happening in Gaza and Israel. The vigils occurring throughout San Diego County demonstrate we are not immune to the tragedy of war.
At the same time, I have noticed a trend in my life that anyone who appreciates poetry understands. Poetry channels the innermost feelings we struggle to articulate succinctly and powerfully. For me, there is a reverence in the words that speak directly to our subconscious, and in times of emotional distress, indifference or exultation, reading poetry brings me comfort. People out there have experienced what you are sensing and have drawn from their soul to place a connection on the altar of literature.
Previously in the La Jolla Light, I’ve written about what goes into weeding a collection of books. My library school professors at the University of Southern California taught me to adhere to the “Continuous Review, Evaluation and Weeding,” or CREW, method.
Librarians review materials with regard to the six criteria covered in the MUSTIE acronym — that is to say, whether a book is misleading (factually inaccurate), ugly (worn beyond repair), superceded (by a new edition or book on the subject), trivial (of no discernible merit), irrelevant (does not meet the needs or interests of the community), or elsewhere (is easily available somewhere else).
Many librarians tend to focus on the date of publication of the book or how many times it has circulated since being added to the collection. However, we cannot consider one criteria without considering the rest. Over time, science books may be weeded at a higher rate than the poetry books in the nonfiction section to make way for books that for the latest research and advancements. But contextually speaking, those poetry books stand the test of time. The feeling communicated by a poem written in the 1500s is as true today as it was back then.
So considering what makes cut after cut in weeding — and considering the resonance poetry can have — the idea author Jennifer Hecht had of preparing an anthology of poems to turn to in different situations hit home. I have taken the liberty of beginning to curate some poems about war and loss in hopes that they will go a small way in helping someone reading this column.
If you know of a poem that should be included in this makeshift anthology, please send it my way.
“In Flanders Fields” (1915), by John McCrae
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
“The Butterfly” (1942), by Pavel Friedman
The last, the very last,
So richly, brightly, dazzlingly yellow.
Perhaps if the sun’s tears would sing against a white stone …
Such, such a yellow
Is carried lightly way up high.
It went away I’m sure because it wished to kiss the world goodbye.
For seven weeks I’ve lived in here,
Penned up inside this ghetto
But I have found my people here.
The dandelions call to me
And the white chestnut candles in the court.
Only I never saw another butterfly. That butterfly was the last one.
Butterflies don’t live in here,
In the ghetto.
“A Palestinian Might Say” (2019), by Naomi Shihab Nye
What?
You don’t feel at home in your country,
almost overnight?
All the simple things
you cared about,
maybe took for granted …
you feel
insulted, invisible?
Almost as if you’re not there?
But you’re there.
Where before you mingled freely …
appreciated people who weren’t
just like you …
divisions grow stronger.
That’s what “chosen” and “unchosen” will do.
(Just keep your eyes on your houses and gardens.
Keep your eyes on that tree in bloom.)
Yes, a wall. Ours came later but …
who talks about how sad the land looks,
marked by a massive wall?
That’s not a normal shadow.
It’s something else looming over your lives.
Friends of the Library
I encourage you to accompany me in ing the Friends of the La Jolla Library, whose mission is to the La Jolla/Riford Library. Friends make a difference in innumerable ways, from running the library bookstore to organizing special events and art exhibitions to sponsoring programming or spearheading digitization projects in the History Room.
To the Friends of the La Jolla Library, visit lajollalibrary.org/become-a-friend. Individual hips cost $10 a year.
Katia Graham has a master of management in library and information science degree from USC. She is a former children’s services librarian at the La Jolla/Riford Library and is the founder of Librarian on the Go, a catalyst to encourage reading and community engagement through librarian outreach services. Follow her on Instagram at librarian_onthego. ◆
