I almost missed the mention during the “In Memoriam” on This Week with George’ Sunday: Mark Harris (died May 30) was remebeered with a picture and about 12 printed words. The name hit me like a happy memory shared with a vaguely remembered friend. The book most of the world remembers from Haris is his Bang the Drum Slowly. It’s about baseball, and a fine book, no doubt, I’m told. Early in his long and distinguished career, Mark Harris wrote a book entitled City of Discontent. That book was my “both barrels” introduction to poet Vachel Lindsay.
About 25 years ago, I was starting to get serious about reciting Vachel Lindsay’s poetry. I was a new member of the Vachel Lindsay Repertory Group, was reading poetry aloud from paper as they prefer to do, and knew my time with them was the start of something big for me. One of the members mentioned Harris’ book as a good point of entry to learning more about VL.
My first edition, published in 1952 by The Bobbs-Merrill Company, lists only Trumpet to the World under “Also by Mark Harris.” That title could also apply to a book about Vachel Lindsay. The dust jacket notes it is “An interpretive biography of Vachel Lindssay, being also the story of Springfield, Illinois USA, and of the love of the poet for that city, that state and that nation.” That means that some of what’s inside may not be true, that the book reveals how Harris interpreted that he learned in his research..
The title of Harris’ book is taken from Vachel Lindsay’s poem Springfield Magical, which he quotes from at the start of the story. Here are a few lines I have chosen from the same poem . . . .
“In this, the City of my Discontent,
Sometimes there comes a whisper from the grass,
‘Romance, Romance — is here . . .’
“Angels come down, with Christmas in their hearts,
Gentle, whimsical, laughing, heaven-sent:
And for a day, fair peace have given me
In this, the City of my Discontent!”
With its narrative, engaging style, City of Discontent is an excellent way to get to know the poet. It’s easier to appreciate and understand Vachel with the transitioning buffers between major events in his life, the added sense of humanity imparted to the poet through the magic of “interpretation.” The book ends with affirmation, the text of a resolution passed by the House of Representatives during the 57th session of the Illinois General Assembly. It’s a knockout read.
That’s why I recommend it to you. I’m sure Prairie Archives on Adams between Fifth & Sixth has a copy or two for sale, along with the last copy of my book Vachel Lindsay: Strange Gold. Please mention me if you visit. John Paul as been holding the only Vachel book I don’t own and it’s been years since I’ve made a payment. Tell him I’m alive (11:44 a.m., June 4, 2007), and I’ll be making another payment ASAP.
It bothers me a mite that in the excellent obituary of Harris posted at
http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/07153.790950-122.stm
Los Angeles Times writer Dennis McLellan calls him a “baseball novelist.” Considering how a writer’s life should not be measured by one book, and Harris wrote a lot about baseball, McLellan is not unfair. From my monastic prespective, I simply consider Harris differently. I urge you to visit the obit noted above to read the fine restrospective of the man.
I wish I had come to know Mark Harris better when he was alive: maybe even sent him a tape of moi reciting VL’s poetry, asked about how the encounter with the poet’s legacy in the early 50s had stayed with him, if at all. For certain I am “resolved” to visit the local library to find, and read, another book by Harris. The description of the man, his outlook on baseball (he hated fantasy baseball) suggests we had more in common than interest in the “Prairie Troubadour.”
Thank you, spirit of Mark Harris, for a terrific read. No book I have encountered has affected me more, in the long haul, than City of Discontent.
Live long . . . . and proper.
