October 13: On this day in 1943 Robert Lowell entered New York City's West Street
Jail, convicted of draft evasion. The twenty-six-year-old poet was barely
published at this point, but because he came from a venerated Boston family the
event made headline news. Looking back, Lowell would describe his stand as "the
most decisive thing I ever did, just as a writer." He would also turn the
memory into "Memories of West Street and Lepke," a central poem of Life Studies, the 1959 collection
regarded by many as the most important book of American poetry in the second
half of the twentieth century.
Lowell's protest was
principled, but not that of a pacifist. He had answered earlier draft calls
willingly, and had even tried to enlist; on all occasions he had been turned
down because of poor eyesight. There was every reason to think that he would be
turned down again at his upcoming recall examination, but in the interim Lowell
had become an even more devout Catholic, and America at war had shown a new "Machiavellian
contempt for the laws of justice and charity between nations." This phrase
is from Lowell's "Declaration of Personal Responsibility," mailed to
President Roosevelt on September 7th and then to 110 other family members,
friends, and newspapers. Such comments got him a year and a day at the West
Street correctional facility.
Often described as the
first book of the "Confessional School," the Life Studies collection represented a breakthrough in style for
Lowell, and brought him a National Book Award. But the writing triggered his
fourth and fifth mental breakdowns from manic-depression and, as described here
by biographer Paul Mariani, put him back in jail:
Afraid of shock
treatments, afraid of being locked up again, afraid of what was happening to
him, Cal [Lowell's nickname] appeared to be resisting arrest in the station and
was once again treated roughly by the police, who even refused him water, until
his friend demanded they stop treating him like some ape. Then he drove Cal out
to McLean's, where Cal was admitted, isolated, and stripped to his underwear to
keep him from hurting himself.
Lowell would continue to
suffer from manic-depression, continue to gather awards, and, when the war in Vietnam arrived, continue to protest.
Daybook is contributed by Steve King, who teaches in the English Department of Memorial University in St. John's, Newfoundland. His literary daybook began as a radio series syndicated nationally in Canada. He can be found online at todayinliterature.com.
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