Vo l . 4 N o . 2
57
Nobody in Michigan had the chance to know than just some misguided young man trying to save a Roethke as a teacher. We are only the stuff of his source literary landmark. It’s about activism versus writing. It’s material: the greenhouses, the root cellar, the river, the about fathers and sons. It’s about the power of friendship fields…the portentous father, Otto. Perhaps it was his and the virtues of hard work. It’s about poetry. difficult relationship with his father that compelled him It’s also about Roethke, the man. to have such a nurturing relationship toward his students After all the reading I did about him, I knew at the University of Washington. that the novel would touch on Maybe he gave to them as a him as a poet. He was unique in teacher to make up for what he felt that he pushed himself into new he did not receive from Otto as a territory, new voices, and new son. style with every book. One of Notwithstanding, I believe the characters in the novel even that the University of Washington comments on it: also played a big part in allowing “And as a poet… my God. him to become such a force in the It’s like he reinvented himself with classroom. He found a sympathetic every book. Read his greenhouse environment there that had eluded poems and then read The Far him at other institutions. Michigan Field. Stylistically, length, tone— State University was severe toward all of it. It’s like two different men, his mental condition. Penn State, but the same dirt is in there. I don’t Jeff Vande Zande at the time, was not enough think enough has been said about of a liberal arts college. As for that, about how hard that is. It’s Bennington, it held too many temptations of the female hard enough to find one voice, one way to get at things. He variety. The president, Lewis Jones, saw the writing on the had so many.” wall and did not renew Roethke’s contract, according to In my research, I also learned that Roethke was an Seager. exceptional teacher. With almost no guides, he seemingly It was at the University of Washington, Seager created the art of teaching poetry as creative writing. In suggests, where Roethke found the progressive the novel, Denver’s father revealed that he once had the surroundings that his teaching needed and the chance to meet Roethke, when Roethke came back from compassionate administration that his illness required. Seattle to Arthur Hill High School to receive an award. Once while at UDub, a state legislator questioned Denver’s dad explained that a few students were allowed Roethke’s frequent sick leaves. In response, the head of to meet Roethke: the English Department wrote a remarkable, four-page I reached up under my sleeve and scratched my letter in Roethke’s defense. The letter ended as follows and shoulder. “Just random students?” shows that Roethke had found a safe harbor in academia: He crossed his arms. “No, not just random students. I was there because I wrote this paper on fur trading in the In all of these ways—teaching, developing Saginaw Valley.” He looked at the radio and touched his interest in a great literary form, training writers who finger along the top of it. “And because I’d shown an interest themselves go on to become known, and doing his in wanting to teach.” He looked back at me. own distinguished writing which has won all kinds “To teach?” of acclaim—Roethke is performing what I call a Dad nodded. “Yup. Teach history.” He was quiet for continuing service to the University, which goes on a moment, touching the radio again. “Anyway, Roethke was whether he is ill or well. When we keep him on the a big, gloomy looking sonuvabitch. Dressed like a funeral payroll when he is ill, we are not merely helping a home director. We all lined up—there were five of us—and sick man or aiding a fine artist; in realistic terms, we he came through and shook our hands and asked a few are simply continuing to pay a great University debt. questions. I remember he stopped when I told him that I I shall without hesitation continue to recommend wanted to be a teacher. He pointed at my heart. ‘Don’t give we continue with this policy whenever he is ill. ‘em everything,’ he said. ‘They’ll take it. They’re hungry.’ Then he shook his head. ‘If you’re doing it right, though, you won’t Sincerely, be able to stop giving… even if it’s killing you, even if they don’t deserve it.’ Then he looked at me. ‘And, if you’re really Robert B. Heilman good—like me—not one of ‘em deserves it, not what I give.’”