Biography of Muriel Rukeyser
an American poet and political activist, best known for her poems about equality, feminism, social justice, and Judaism. Kenneth Rexroth said that she was the greatest poet of her "exact generation".
While her earlier work shows the influence of W.H. Auden in its intricate rhyming and regular meter, she later wrote more freely, famously declaring in a 1968 poetic manifesto “No more masks! No more mythologies!” Apart from her advocacy for the disadvantaged, she reflected a great range of interests, including science, in her writing, and in the 1960s and 70s became a favorite of the anti-war movement and of feminists.
One of her most powerful pieces was a group of poems entitled The Book of the Dead (1938), documenting the details of the Hawk's Nest incident, an industrial disaster in which hundreds of miners died of silicosis.
Her poem "To be a Jew in the Twentieth Century" (1944), on the theme of Judaism as a gift, was adopted by the American Reform and Reconstructionist movements for their prayer books, something Rukeyser said "astonished" her, as she had remained distant from Judaism throughout her early life.
She attended the Ethical Culture Fieldston School, a private school in The Bronx, then Vassar College in Poughkeepsie. From 1930–32, she attended Columbia University.
Her literary career began in 1935 when her book of poetry, Theory of Flight, based on flying lessons she took, was chosen by the American poet Stephen Vincent Benét for publication in the Yale Younger Poets Series.
Activism and Writing
"Rukeyser was one of the great integrators, seeing the fragmentary world of modernity not as irretrievably broken, but in need of societal and emotional repair."
— Adrienne Rich
Rukeyser was active in progressive politics throughout her life. At age 18, she covered the Scottsboro case in Alabama, then worked for the International Labor Defense, which handled the defendants' appeals. She wrote for the Daily Worker and a variety of publications including Decision (payne), Life & Letters Today (London) for which she covered the People's Olympiad (Olimpiada Popular, Barcelona), the Catalonian government's alternative to the Nazis' 1936 Berlin Olympics. While she was in Spain, the Spanish Civil War broke out, the basis of her Mediterranean. Most famously, she traveled to Gauley Bridge, West Virginia, to investigate the recurring silicosis among miners there, which resulted in her well-regarded poem sequence The Book of the Dead. During and after World War II, she gave a number of striking public lectures, published in her The Life of Poetry (excerpts here). For much of her life, she taught university classes and led workshops, but never became a career academic.
In 1996, Paris Press reissued The Life of Poetry, which had been published in 1949 but had fallen out of print. In a publisher's note, Jan Freeman called it a book that "ranks among the most essential works of twentieth century literature." In it she makes the case that poetry is essential to democracy, essential to human life and understanding.
In the 1960s and 1970s, a time when she presided over PEN's American center, her feminism and opposition to the Vietnam war (she traveled to Hanoi) drew a new generation to her poetry. The title poem of her last book, The Gates, is based on her unsuccessful attempt to visit Korean poet Kim Chi-Ha on death row in South Korea. In 1968, she signed the “Writers and Editors War Tax Protest” pledge, vowing to refuse tax payments in protest against the Vietnam War.
In addition to her poetry, she wrote a fictionalized memoir, The Orgy, plays and screenplays, and translated work by Octavio Paz and Gunnar Ekelöf. She also wrote biographies of Josiah Willard Gibbs, Wendell Wilkie, and Thomas Hariot. Andrea Dworkin worked as her secretary in the early 1970s.
Rukeyser died in New York on February 12, 1980 from a stroke, with diabetes as a contributing factor. She was 66.
In other media
In Jeanette Winterson's novel Gut Symmetries (1997), Rukeyser's poem 'King's Mountain' is quoted.
Rukeyser's translation of a poem by Octavio Paz was adapted by Eric Whitacre for his choral composition "Water Night". John Adams set one of her texts to music in his opera Doctor Atomic.
Muriel Rukeyser's Works:
Theory of flight. Foreword by Stephen Vincent Benet. New Haven: Yale Uni. Press, 1935.
U.S. 1. 1938.
A Turning Wind. 1939.
Willard Gibbs: American Genius, 1942. Reprinted by the Ox Bow Press, Woodbridge CT.
Beast in View. 1944.
The green wave. (with Octavio Paz) Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1948.
The life of poetry. NY: Current Books, 1949. Paris Press; reprint (1996) ISBN 0-9638183-3-3
One Life. NY: Simon and Schuster, 1957. Biography of Wendell Willkie.
Body of Waking. NY: Harper, 1958.
Waterlily Fire: Poems 1935-1962. NY: Macmillan, 1962.
The Orgy. (1965) Paris Press; reprint (1997) ISBN 0-9638183-2-5
The outer banks. (Sea poetry). Santa Barbara CA: Unicorn, 1967.
The speed of darkness. NY: Random House, 1968.
The traces of Thomas Hariot. NY: Random House, 1971
Breaking Open. 1973.
Early poems, 1935-1955. Octavio Paz. Translated from the Spanish by Muriel Rukeyser et al. NY: New Directions Pub. Corp., 1973.
The gates: poems. NY: McGraw-Hill, 1976.
The collected poems. NY: McGraw-Hill, 1978.
Out of silence: selected poems. edited by Kate Daniels. Evanston IL: TriQuarterly Books, Northwestern University; Oak Park, IL: Distributed by ILPA, 1992.
A Muriel Rukeyser Reader. W W Norton.
The Collected Poems of Muriel Rukeyser. University of Pittsburgh Press, 2005.
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Muriel Rukeyser Poems
For that I never knew you, I only learned to dread you, for that I never touched you, they told me you are filth, they showed me by every action to despise your kind; for that I saw my people making war on you,
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The fear of poetry is the fear : mystery and fury of a midnight street of windows whose low voluptuous voice issues, and after that there is not peace.
When Barcelona fell, the darkened glass turned in the world and immense ruinous gaze, mirror of prophecy in a series of mirrors. I meet it in all the faces that I see.
The Conjugation Of The Paramecium
This has nothing to do with propagating
Deeper than sleep but not so deep as death I lay there dreaming and my magic head remembered and forgot. On first cry I remembered and forgot and did believe.
Elegy In Joy
We tell beginnings: for the flesh and the answer, or the look, the lake in the eye that knows, for the despair that flows down in widest rivers, cloud of home; and also the green tree of grace,
[murmurs From The Earth Of This LandA...
Murmurs from the earth of this land, from the caves and craters, from the bowl of darkness. Down watercourses of our dragon childhood, where we ran barefoot.
Boy With His Hair Cut Short
SUNDAY shuts down on this twentieth-century evening. The L passes. Twilight and bulb define
Metaphor To Action
Whether it is a speaker, taut on a platform, who battles a crowd with the hammers of his words, whether it is the crash of lips on lips after absence and wanting : we must close
Long afterward, Oedipus, old and blinded, walked the roads. He smelled a familiar smell. It was the Sphinx. Oedipus said, 'I want to ask one question. Why didn't I recognize my mother?' 'You gave the
In the cave with a long-ago flare a woman stands, her arms up. Red twig, black twig, brown twig. A wall of leaping darkness over her.
In the human cities, never again to despise the backside of the city, the ghetto, or build it again as we build the despised backsides of houses. Look at your own building
This is the cripple’s hour on Seventh Avenue when they emerge, the two o’clock night-walkers, the cane, the crutch, and the black suit.
There were three of them that night. They wanted it to happen in the first woman’s room. The man called her; the phone rang high. Then she put fresh lipstick on.
Haying Before Storm
This sky is unmistakable. Not lurid, not low, not black.
Illuminated and bruise-color, limitless, to the noon
Full of its floods to come. Under it, field, wheels, and mountain,
The valley scattered with friends, gathering in
Live-colored harvest, filling their arms; not seeming to hope
Not seeming to dread, doing.
I stand where I can see
Holding a small pitcher, coming in toward
The doers and the day.