A poetic conversation about death
‘Mourning and poetry’ was the theme last night of the monthly ‘Letter Soup’ event, a collaborative discussion of poems. UvA graduates used the timing just before Christmas, to organize a conversation about death. ‘Nowadays, we are unwilling to accept feeling bad.’
The lights of the large Christmas tree on the Binnengasthuisterein began to shine at this dark hour in this dark month. The organizers in Binnengasthuis 3 have reduced the format of Letter Soup to a few chairs in a circle. Letter Soup is an event of VOX-POP, an organization of the UvA Faculty of Humanities, with a different theme each time. Based on poetry, it features a conversation open to all. Today on the program: Dark death and the illuminating poetry of Marwin Vos.
Not a reading club
When the students, adults, and seniors present sit somewhat quietly in a circle after the soup, conversation leader Imogen Hills has a hard time right away. The student explains the normal concept of Letter Soup (a free bowl of soup and a free conversation about poetry), but that today’s theme touches her personally. Her father passed away 10 years ago, and this year she is inexplicably struggling. UvA Professor of Dutch Studies Gaston Franssen and student and founder of ‘Mourning Network Young’ Rim Aarden are therefore a welcome change as speakers.
Franssen wants to clarify one thing right away: ‘This is not a reading club.’ The teacher explains that the conversation should be about the theme of grieving based on Marwin Vos’ collection of poems ‘Wild Death,’ and not about the collection of poems alone. Franssen then discusses Vos’ poem on ‘Death as a guest in your home’ with the group.
‘What is the writer’s goal?’ Hills asks what some of the Dutch speakers present believe is an irrelevant question. ‘Maybe she just wants to sell a lot of anthologies,’ one participant cynically remarks in response. The poem does offer some comfort to others present. In doing so, Aarden highlights the stanza from ‘those who ... instead of (fleeing from the pain), welcomed the guest.’ A metaphor for the difficult acceptance of one’s grief, the grieving attendees believe.
‘when she died in the family we feared the force of the loss as for an
unwanted stranger
but we took her in as a guest so she was quicker on her feet
...
we watched those who were wise enough to resist the urge to run away
from the dead body and from the pain
and instead welcomed the guest
some were still there after three days or three months or three years’
Pieces
Vos has divided the collection into several ‘pieces.’ Franssen finds that play on words, referring to a soul that is ‘in pieces’ to be fascinating. ‘I love etymology. The French ‘doléances’ has its origins in the Greek ‘daidalos,’ literally ‘to split.’ So the French word for suffering actually means ‘splitting’ or ‘chopping into pieces.’ So when mourning, you try to pick up those ‘pieces’ together.’ (‘Con’ is Latin for ‘together,’ ed.)
‘But,’ Aarden states from her experience, ‘that ‘together’ part of grieving is something that young people often find difficult in this day and age.’ The conversation starts to pick up. ‘Yes, we always want to fix unpleasant things nowadays and are unwilling to accept feeling bad! Our generation is always afraid to rip open wounds,’ says one of the younger attendees adamantly.
Death is indeed a taboo in our present society is the consensus of the group. An elderly lady who lost her sister more than 60 years ago elaborates on Vos’ passage about ‘the defense systems that want to protect against hurt.’ ‘Death determined the whole system of our family. My deceased sister was always an invisible guest.’ ‘
Reflecting on current events, the woman adds, ‘Even politics, as a system, repels the ever-present death in the world. For example, by making death impersonal or claiming it for your country.’ Aarden agrees: ‘There is a lot of death in politics, but little grief.’
Reflecting on current events, the woman adds, ‘Even politics, as a system, repels the ever-present death in the world. For example, by making death impersonal or claiming it for your country.’ Aarden agrees: ‘There is a lot of death in politics, but little grief.’
Healed
The other poem discussed in the award-winning collection addresses the difficulty of how others deal with your grief. ‘Society looks briefly at your pain but quickly tires of it.’ Aarden lost her father three years ago. ‘One year, two years, people understand that, but after three years the grief seems to be forgotten.’ People wish the mourner ‘strength,’ but not everyone wants to be strong all the time. And so young people grieve silently and individually for their loved ones, away from others. ‘The pain chair exists but is placed in another room,’ Vos closes.
Monthly, VOX-POP, a ‘creative space’ affiliated with the Faculty of Humanities, organizes ‘Letter Soup.’ Consisting mainly of students, the organization of VOX-POP seeks to bridge the gap between academia and society. At Letter Soup, UvA literary scholar Gaston Franssen brings a recent book of poetry each time and uses it to discuss a current theme.
‘Yet even in our secular society, people look for collective rituals in their grieving process,’ believes Letter Soup organizer Cleo Thomas. The ‘Silent March’ researched by Thomas, a recent NRC series on grieving, as well as Wednesday night’s Letter Soup, appear to be modern, collective ways of dealing with death.
The participants of Letter Soup responded that it is nice to recognize the fear of that terrible grief in others. That way they can accept that ‘sometimes big, sometimes small’ feeling ‘that you always carry around.’ Piece by piece, the pieces of pain can then heal and become whole words. For, states the elderly lady after more than 60 years of grieving, "Everything that begins, ends."
