Almost two weeks ago, I watched a PBS show called Echoes from the White House in which Jacqueline Kennedy gave a tour of the White House. Though dated, the show was captivating, and my mind has returned fairly often to this mysterious woman in the days since. Did Jackie O drink beer? Did Jackie O sing in the shower? Did Jackie O like poetry?
Some details of Jackie's tastes and habits I may never know, particularly if I never bother to read one of her biographies (anyone have any recommendations?), but I am pleased to at least know that she was a lover of poetry. Earlier this week, I visited Chincoteague, VA, and spent most of my time at the surprising number of independent bookstores there. At the one whose name I can't remember, I picked up The Best-Loved Poems of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, selected and introduced by Caroline Kennedy. Aside from the tasteful selection of well known favorites (Frost, Whitman, Hughes, Yeats, Keats, etc.), there are a few poems written by Jackie O herself, when she was still Miss Bouvier.
Who cares what she read? I think it's fascinating. The introduction explains that Jackie memorized her favorite poems and taught many of them to her children. To read these (mostly) familiar poems with that knowledge makes me see them differently, or at least makes me look closer. What is it in a poem that holds a reader? What is it in a reader that lets a poem hold?
Happy New Year!
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Not a Jackie scholar but do know she liked literature - I believe she worked for Viking and Doubleday.
At her funeral her long time companion read at least part of or a line of the poem below by Cavafy.
ITHAKA
if, like Odysseus, you try to get home to Ithaka,
be lucky in your journey - let it be a long one
packed with fascination.
don't be aghast at giants or fear the one-eyed man
or the angry sea-god:
these are only fables.
your mind exalted,
your spirit and body purified through thought,
you need not witness these monsters
unless you carry them with you
locked in imagination.
this wonderful Ithacan journey -
pray it may be long
full of happy summer mornings
when you enter new harbours never seen before
tense with excitement, your heart thudding heavily.
do not omit to visit those trading stations
set up by peripatetic Phoenicians
who in their wanderings to fabulous regions
amass the most beautiful pearl and coral
heaped up with amber and ebony
in dark shops redolent with sensuous perfumes.
do not forget to study at great Egyptian
centres of learning, to extend your wisdom
by the words of the wise.
your destination, Ithaka, keep always in mind:
that's where you're heading; that's your purpose.
but better that your journey is not hurried
(Ithaka is always waiting)
better if it takes you years to get there;
better if you're old when you reach the island
enriched beyond expectation with experience
- then Ithaka, your goal, on coming home
will not disappoint you.
it was for this you wandered,
for this you came.
having seen so many wonders,
you accept her: this is your home, your island.
you come with full hands; and you were not fooled,
wise with experience, into thinking
Ithaka other than she is.
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