Literary Events at the Whipple: Poetry Workshop November 3, 2009

On Thursday 29 October, the Whipple held its first creative writing workshop. Led by Katy Price, Melanie Keene and myself, the group of twelve explored ‘object stories,’ inspired by some beautiful and fascinating museum objects.

Discussing poems in the workshop

Many thanks to Sarah, Melanie, Katy & Steve for their workshop contributions!

We began by reading and discussing a few examples of short writing inspired by specific objects, and the different ways of describing or interpreting their stories.

Next, workshop guests were asked to consider one of three objects from the Whipple Collection, which were displayed specially on a central table within the circle of chairs.

A ‘Jigsaw Puzzle’ Globe, a Model mulberry, and a Ship-Shaped Sundial.

Jigsaw Puzzle Globe (photo: Whipple Collection)

After some discussion, we allowed for about 40 minutes of thinking and writing. A small amount of information was displayed beside each object, and if they wanted, the writers were able to access the further information on the Whipple website.

Once we had deliberated, chatted, written, crossed out, and considered, everyone bravely volunteered to share their work, either by reading out what they had written, or by explaining their thoughts and ideas as to what they wanted to do with the material.

There was a brilliant array of voice and creative imagery. Everyone seemed to come up with rich and interesting material, and they were invited to share their poems with me so I could post them on this blog, and possibly beside the museum objects themselves.

Model Mulberry (photo: Whipple Collection)

Daniel, co-coordinator of the Science and Literature Reading Group in the HPS department and workshop attendee, generously sent me his wonderful poem about the model mulberry:

MURE (Morus nigra, L.)

 

A smooth shiny base, turned like a chess piece,

Is the stage where this mulberry dances

A sumptuous papier-mâché fruit

Seducing us with sugary glances

Her stalk is set at a jaunty angle

Clothed in long stripes of dark green and lime green

The dark spots run through it like Brighton rock

Above it the bulbous fruit reposes

Dark red and black, exploding with sugar

Labels revealing the inner contents

Of the graine ouverte, péricarpe osseux,

The embryou lodged in its secret heart.

 

Daniel Friesner

Daniel and John with the workshop objects

Below are a few of the examples we read and discussed before launching into writing our own material:

The Turnip-Snedder by Seamus Heaney

Next, we looked at an excerpt, read brilliantly (with feeling!) by Simon: from Orhan Panuk, My Name is Red (faber and faber, 2001), pp. 124-125.

Chapter 19

I am a gold coin

Behold! I am a twenty-two-carat Ottoman Sultani gold coin and I bear the glorious insignia of His Excellency Our Sultan, Refuge of the World. Here, in the middle of the night in this fine coffee-house overcome with funereal melancholy, Stork, one of Our Sultan’s great masters, has just finished drawing my picture, though he hasn’t yet been able the embellish me with gold wash – I’ll leave that to your imagination. My image is here before you, yet I myself can be found in the money purse of your dear brother, Stork, that illustrious miniaturist… Hello, hello, greetings to all the master artists and assorted guests. Your eyes widen as you behold my glimmer, you thrill as I shimmer in the light of the oil lamp, and finally, you bristle with envy at my owner, Master Stork. …

… I take pride in being recognised as a measure of talent among artists and in putting an end to unnecessary disagreements. …

            Before I arrived here, I spent ten days in the dirty sock of a poor shoe-maker’s apprentice. Each night the unfortunate man would fall asleep in his bed, naming the endless things he could buy with me. The lines of this epic poem, sweet as a lullaby, proved to me that there was no place on Earth a coin couldn’t go.

            Which reminds me. If I recited all that happened to me before I came here, it’d fill volumes. There are no strangers among us, we’re all friends; as long as you promise not to tell anyone, and as long as Stork Effendi won’t take offense, I’ll tell you a secret. Do you swear not to tell?

            All right then, I confess. I’m not a genuine twenty-two-carat Ottoman Sultani gold coin minted at the Chemberlitash Mint. I’m counterfeit. They made me in Venice using adulterated gold and brought me here, passing me off as twenty-two-carat Ottoman gold. Your sympathy and understanding are much obliged. …

Later in the workshop, we had a great discussion about the poem The Still Lives of Appliances by Rebecca Elson.

Literary events at the Whipple: Dr. Holmes, ‘Darwin’s Bards’ October 27, 2009

As part of our growing series of literature-and-science events at the Whipple Museum of the History of Science, last Thursday evening Dr. John Holmes from the University of Reading gave an excellent talk on his recently published book, ‘Darwin’s Bards: British and American Poetry in the Age of Evolution.‘

Dr. Holmes speaking in the main Whipple Gallery.

John is a bard of bards– he does not claim to be a poet himself, but he reads the work of his subjects with all the zest and verve of a true Romantic. He is always an enthusiastic and illuminating speaker, and the guests who came to hear his talk were engaged, had questions, and genuinely enjoyed the evening.

A comment from my former supervisor, Dr. Doug Shedd, on John’s book:

In discussion with one of the guests.

“John Holmes’s coverage of the relationship between science and poetry in Darwin’s Bards: British and American Poetry in the Age of Evolution is remarkably complete. He has a scientist’s grasp of evolutionary theory and a thorough understanding of the controversies the theory has engendered. He also understands the difficulty many have had in finding meaning in an existence framed by Darwinism. Holmes’s investigation of how poetry addresses these problems is unique, and he is correct in thinking that, “poems can even change how we think about Darwinism itself.” Evolutionary science provides many of the details for understanding why the world is the way it is, but we need “Darwin’s Bards” to help us interpret these details, incorporate them into our collective consciousness, and fully understand what it means to live in a Darwinian world.” — Douglas Shedd, Thoresen Professor of Biology, Randolph College

Thanks to Melanie for being our photographer!

Poet in the Parlour: Residency, Day 4 October 27, 2009

22/10/09

An interesting phenomenon I’ve noticed that falls somewhere along the spectrum from ‘myself-as-poet-in-residence-with-whom-museum-guests-enjoy-an-interesting-chat,’ to, ‘myself-as-mistaken-docent-whom-people-ask-questions-relating-to-musem-objects-which-to-my-surprise-I-have-actually-been-able-to-answer,’ to— ‘myself-as-somehow-a-museum-object-or-specimen’!

Installation art?

Person enters Parlour and possibly notices my sign. Ah, person thinks, ‘poet in the parlour,’ looking over at me, sat in the little brown velvet Victorian chair, reading or writing, or typing on my not-so-Victorian-laptop. Person moves on to consider globes, stereoscopes, and other various objects.

And so I become one of the many things in the museum to, impersonally and silently, consider. Does this make me installation art? Is my presence in the museum still useful—is my very sitting here, in this scientific space, silently writing, bringing attention to ‘science and literature’? Even if we don’t talk to each other, am I encouraging museum guests to think of creative writing in relation to the history of science? Am I failing if this is not the case?

Herschelian telescope

It is my last day ‘in residence’ at the Whipple, and I have enjoyed the residency immensely. We are planning more events, so I will certainly be back, but I do hope to return in the ‘residency’ capacity. Having a few days or a week together of working from the Museum has allowed me to explore ideas of actually being in residence that would not have arisen otherwise—and it has helped my work, as well. I have written a good chunk of the novel, and, today, a new poem, which is a thrill as one hasn’t come for some time. I really have been ‘poet in the parlour,’ then.

I had a fantastic discussion with a guest who was visiting, and who bought a copy of my book, and recommended some great reading materials about optics and lenses (which have to do with a different book I recently finished). I love the somewhat random but definitely intellectual variety of the people coming through here.

Thank you to everyone who has helped me to take part in this residency, especially Melanie, Sarah, Josh, and Liba.

Poet in the Parlour: Residency, Day 3 October 27, 2009

21/10/09

Wednesday was a quiet day, for me anyway, in the Parlour.

One challenge to being in residence in the Parlour is that this particular room is set up so people, particularly children, can touch and play with the objects, to explore and interact and discover. On one hand, this makes me, a living and hopefully interactive guest, appropriate to the Parlour, whilst on the other hand, if a parent comes in with children who want to play, I suddenly shrink into a corner as ‘my parlour’ becomes a messy pseudo-Victorian living room with enthusiastic young ones for whom I take zero responsibility.

The Poet is IN

That noted, I also am quite pleased at children (and their parents) discovering the stereoscopes, kaleidoscopes, shell mosaics, doll-houses, paper cut-outs, stained-glass crafts, and other various sparkly and twirly thingys which are, and forever will be, eminently more lasting and interesting than any Nintendo, Gameboy, Playstation, Xbox or otherwise.

Stereoscope

However, if I do return to be in residence in the Whipple again, I also think I may try to reside in one of the other galleries. The Parlour is cozy—a shaft of sunlight slants through the glass doors even now, and it is quiet, with no guests at the moment. It does as it claims—‘evokes the atmosphere of a home belonging to a Victorian family in the late 19^th century.’ [It also, personally, evokes the atmosphere of a home belonging to my grandmother, which makes me happy.]

Today, then, was not a writing day, but a reading and thinking day, which are certainly necessary.

Poet in the Parlour: Residency, Day 2 October 27, 2009

20/10/09

Today has been fairly quiet so far—about seven people have come through the Victorian Parlour as of 2pm, and I had a pleasant little chat with one. The sign has definitely helped people understand why I’m here, though there is still a bit of the jumpy shyness from some guests who are deep in thought, so I’m trying to maintain my idea of not talking too much unless they seem interested.

I’ve been writing quite a bit this morning, which is one of the main reasons for being here, and I’ve just taken a little break to stroll around the ‘Globe Inn’ gallery of globes and admire the inspirational array.

Telescope built by William Herschel (photo: Whipple)

However, I paused to look out the little window of the gallery into the main Whipple room, which happens to provide an excellent view, just to the right, of one of William Herschel’s own telescopes.

I admired it yesterday from the main gallery too, and can’t help but marvel at the serendipity of being here, at the Whipple. Kudos to Melanie, who first introduced me to the Whipple Curator, Liba Taub, when she realised the significance of the affiliation  with my Darwin work early on.

Still, I can’t help but delight in the fact that just downstairs there is currently a special exhibit entitled ‘Darwin’s Microscope,’ which holds, among other objects of great interest, one of Darwin’s own microscopes, and now I’m writing this book on William and Caroline Herschel, and the Whipple has one of William’s telescopes, too! That is truly serendipidous, as I was inspired to work on the Herschels after moving near the ROG, and the Whipple connection is extra luck.

Strange as it may sound, these things truly are a happy coincidence. I’m willing to bet the next object of interest to me for a novel—to do with anatomical wax models—hold a place in the Whipple collection as well, which would also be delightful.

The fact is, the Whipple Museum of the History of Science is part of the History and Philosophy of Science department here at Cambridge, and it is precisely in this field where my interests lie, not least because it involves the history of science, but also because it allows for creative exploration into practically any other subject—that is to say, the field of the history of science is inclusive and connected, or connecting, rather than exclusive.

Richard Holmes puts it more eloquently at the end of the epilogue of his excellent recent book, The Age of Wonder, how the Romantic Generation Discovered the Beauty and Terror of Science:

‘But perhaps most important, right now, is a changing appreciation of how scientists themselves fit into society as a whole, and the nature of the particular creativity they bring to it. We need to consider how they are increasingly vital to any culture of progressive knowledge…For this, I believe science needs to be presented and explored in a new way. We need not only a new history of science, but a more enlarged and imaginative biographical writing about individual scientists…here, the perennially cited difficulties with the ‘two cultures,’ and specifically with mathematics, can no longer be accepted as a valid limitation. We need to understand how science is actually made; how scientists themselves think and feel and speculate. We need to explore what makes scientists creative, as well as poets or painters, or musicians.’

It is this tall order which I am attempting with the work-in-progress—but it is a delightful voyage of discovery as much as it is a challenge. Much like Holmes’s Romantics, there is beauty and terror in an effort mostly suffused with wonder.

Poet in the Parlour: Residency, day 1 October 20, 2009

An Copernican armillary sphere from the collection. (photo: Whipple)

Whipple Museum of the History of Science, 19/10/09

I attended the Cabinet of Natural History at 1pm today, at which PhD student Ruth Horry gave a fascinating talk on air ships and the attempt to capture plant spores over one trans-Atlantic voyage. It made for a sometimes amusing, sometimes tragic, always interesting story.

Then on to the Victorian Parlour, to begin my residency!

About twenty people came through the Parlour and a handful looked at the books I’ve brought in, including:

Dark Matter: Poems of Space, a few copies of Darwin’s Microscope, Human Cartography by James Gurley, River Turning Tidal by Mick Delap, and a copy of a favourite which I’m currently reading, Angels & Insects by A.S. Byatt. All but the latter are poetry books, but I also have a copy of The Age of Wonder by Richard Holmes, an amazing non-fiction book, so there is variety.

Not wishing to accost people, I read and wrote, but realised that most people assume I am a docent and had a few questions about museum items.

I did have an excellent discussion, for twenty or thirty minutes, with a lady and a young man, probably her son, who was about my age—they were delightful; she a science fiction writer and he an actor! I should have asked their names and wish I had. They’d read about the ‘Poet in the Parlour’ on the Whipple website, so it’s good to know that is helping get the word out.

We had a great discussion about what it means to be a ‘Renaissance’ man or woman, the ‘two cultures’ divide, science and literature in general, agents and publishing…I told them a little about my projects…it was delightful and they were so pleasant.

I’ve decided that tomorrow I will put up a small sign saying ‘The Poet is in the Parlour: come have a chat about literature & science, browse the books or ask questions.’ I need a bit of an ice-breaker. I’m here to be informative, and hopefully approachable, hopefully adding an interesting new element to the parlour, but I don’t want to rush up to museum guests with my book.

One thing I love about museums, especially small ones like the Whipple, is the serene, thought-provoking space they offer. Talking sometimes disturbs that, so I want to talk if guests are interested, but I don’t want to disturb them if they don’t. It is a pleasant mix for me—I enjoy a good conversation and I spend a lot of time in (what I hope is) productive contemplation.

If only the heating worked, this would be quite a cozy little Victorian Parlour. Fortunately they’re working on fixing that problem…

Science Mag & Astronomy Poetry at the NMM October 8, 2009

Pick this up!

If you can, please buy a copy of the current issue of Science Magazine (out 2nd Oct)! For one, it’s the ‘Ardi’ issue: groundbreaking. For another, it has poems from the panel at the Cambridge Darwin Festival, including one by myself, one by John Barnie, and one by Ruth Padel– hooray!

On a slightly different note, I thoroughly encourage anyone and everyone to attend this upcoming event at the National Maritime Museum. ‘Dark Matter’ is a fantastic poetry anthology including work from poets and astronomers collaborating to create new writing.

Public talk: Poems of Space10^th November, 19:00-20:45, National Maritime Museum Lecture Theatre, £8

Renowned astronomer Dame Jocelyn Bell Burnell explores the connections between poetry and science and her experience of compiling Dark Matter, an anthology of poems inspired by astronomy. Followed by a discussion with poet Kelley Swain (Darwin’s Microscope) and astronomer/writer Dr Pippa Goldschmidt.

http://www.nmm.ac.uk/visit/events/public-talk-poems-of-space/*/changeNav/false/from/2856

Tickets from the NMM Bookings Office: 020 8312 6608, bookings@nmm.ac.uk

Lovely sci-poetry anthology

The Evolution of ‘The Origin’ September 30, 2009

This beautifully artistic chart is well worth watching. It shows how Darwin’s theory of evolution changed and, well, evolved over time as he went through editions of his book, On the Origin of Species.

The Origin is one of the most important books ever written (and re-written, and re-written)– and, as illustrated so well here, one of the most important ideas ever developed. The first edition being about 150,000 words long (and this was meant to only be an ‘essay’ version of his ‘great work,’) it still was not one quick thought that Mr. Darwin simply jotted down in the midst of admiring pigeons.

Darwin used fancy pigeons as an example of selection by humans.

Thinking of the many editions of The Origin helps undo that myth of what Richard Holmes (author of the most excellent book, ‘The Age of Wonder’) calls the ‘Eureka’ moment, or the romanticized ’solitary genius,’ working away alone in a dimly-lit room, coming up with one amazing idea. The Newton-hit-on-the-head-with-an-apple moment (though ‘Eureka’ sums it up more succinctly).

Darwin did not have a ‘Eureka’ moment. He had a lifetime of fascination, of good teachers, of unique opportunity. (He also had equal amounts of sea-sickness, mourning for dead children, and bowel problems.)

Interestingly, Wallace might be said to have had a ‘Eureka’ moment, for he came up with almost the same theory of evolution by natural selection from a malarial fever. Go figure. The important bit, though, is that Darwin had the credibility and the years of notes and research (or, the Science,) to back up his theory, and Wallace did not.

September 16, 2009

Last night I was awakened by my four-year-old cat landing next to my head and belching softly in my ear. She must have been welcoming me home. The day before we left on holiday, she sat on my chest drooling onto my face. Her favourite general passtime seems to be tap-dancing on my head at six in the morning, or perhaps it is begging loudly for food every time I enter the kitchen. Then there are the times when it seems she is attempting to eat my hair.

To all of this, my husband complains, ’she gives you all the attention.’

I iz on yer head, droolin on yer dreemz.

And this, dear readers, is the problem. Remy is a cat, and therefore because Dani desperately wants to cuddle her, she struggles to get away from him. And because I (though I love her dearly) want her to stop drooling on my face, she tries to sleep in my armpit. I usually interpret this as undying love, but sometimes I wonder if she’s not plotting to take over the world (or at least my lasagne).

Remy is currently on my lap attempting to get at my lasagne. I’m not sure she appreciates her celebrity status…

Bulgaria Diaries: Part IV August 27, 2009

Wednesay, 17^th June 2009

Today, sunburnt, we all slept in, especially Dani! Breakfast was the oh-so-healthy (I’m not complaining) halva melted with butter and spread on toast.  Halva is a nutty-nougat thing made from tahini or cashews (it varies) and other ingredients, probably mostly sugar. Ani and Maria are at the eye doctor to arrange Maria’s cataract surgery for the autumn. Various horse-hooves and car alarms sound outside.

One of the many versions of bop (beans). I love them all.

I’m thinking of some amazing anecdotes I’ve heard over the past few days. When Ilia was five, he and his family took a camping trip up one of Bulgaria’s mountains. He was too little to carry a proper pack, so they fashioned one for him from a messenger bag and filled it with apples. He was proud to carry the pack, and it conveniently got lighter as they made their way up the mountain, eating apples along the way. Once at camp, the boys were instructed to mind the fire and the pot of beans boiling on it. Because higher altitudes lower the boiling point of water, the water is cooler (though boiling, because the air pressure is lower,) so to cook anything takes longer. It took all day to cook the beans.

Another story, incredible but tragic—Tanya, the mother of Ivan and Ilia, our cousins, suffered a terrible accident when the boys were 5 & 3. Driving to a house on the coast on a foggy night, traffic was stopped due to an accident up ahead. Visibility was awful because of the fog, which was probably the cause of the accident. Tanya was driving with her sons. She got out of her car to see what was happening with the traffic, and a truck driver, who didn’t see her, ran into her and actually dragged her along the road under the truck for some distance. Broken everywhere, it is incredible she survived. She was even, somehow, able to tell her little boys how to phone their father. She’s had hundreds of operations—and amazingly, if you didn’t know that story, you would think she was absolutely fine. The only thing I noticed (before I heard the story from Ani,) was that she winced when she got up from the table.

Our excellent cousins.

Tanya also smokes like it’s going out of style. She enthusiastically ordered nearly every appetizer, and, later, nearly every dessert for us, but didn’t each much of anything herself. Ivan and Ilia were really nice to talk to once we all relaxed a bit. At first it seemed like Ivan and I would do all the talking, but dinner really was four or five hours long, and fortunately everyone warmed up a bit. Ivan has been to Cambridge and loves it, so there was plenty to talk about there! He studies at an American university in Germany, whose ‘parent’ Uni is Rice, in Texas. His English is perfect and he’s a bit more gregarious than his older brother.

Ilia is fluent but not quite as comfortable speaking English. He is studying chemistry and has an exam in these next few days for which he had to learn something like 600 chemical formulae for different drugs, including molecular structure, side effects, etc. No wonder he wasn’t as chatty! Holy crow.