Writers across the state—and the nation—are grieving the loss of Rivendell Writers’ Colony
Rivendell Writers’ Colony, established in 2013, is closing its doors at the end of March. I’m still in shock at the news because Rivendell was flourishing, on course to be a nationally known residency program, but its benefactor has now made other plans for the property.
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Novelist Steve Stern found his fictional world by searching for a lost Jewish tradition
June 1, 2015 I grew up wanting something I couldn’t name. I was raised in the Reform Jewish “tradition,” though the word here is gross hyperbole. The temple I attended as a kid in Memphis represented a variety of Judaism designed to be invisible, to blend indistinguishably with the Christ-haunted Southern landscape. As a consequence, I was virtually untouched by tradition and had not even an awareness of its absence. Nevertheless, one Sunday, playing hooky from confirmation class, I went exploring the old red brick pile of our temple along with a couple of partners in crime.
A poet considers the way a family shapes the soul—in both good and terribly bad ways
September 7, 2011 George Scarbrough (1915-2008) was born the third of seven children in in a clapboard cabin in Patty, a small community in Polk County, Tennessee. Strongly influenced by his literate mother, he was an avid reader from his earliest years and studied at Lincoln Memorial University, the University of Tennessee in Knoxville, and the University of the South in Sewanee. As farmer, librarian, and teacher he lived his entire life in East Tennessee, for many years in Oak Ridge. His poetry was published widely in magazines and journals, and he is the author of five books of poems and one novel, all of which established his position as a major figure in American literature. This essay was first published in Touchstone, a publication of Humanities Tennessee, in 1986. Under the Lemon Tree, a new collection of previously unpublished poems by George Scarbrough, will appear this fall from Iris Press. Robert Cumming, the editor of the collection, will discuss George Scarbrough and his work at the 2011 Southern Festival of Books, held October 14-16 in Nashville.
Read moreWaiting, and hoping for the best
May 7, 2010 As rain invaded my basement on the second day of the deluge, I struggled to open a long-stuck garage door that would (maybe, I hoped) let some of the rising water escape. For the next three hours I pushed a big broom through the surf, trying to get the tide to flow out faster than it was flowing in, and rubbing my hands sore in the process. All of this labor was absolutely futile. The sky was still spewing water like a fire hose.
Read moreThe water had a place to get to, and it was in a hurry
May 7, 2010 People emerged in ones and twos and threes, with dogs and without, all looking pale and both shell-shocked and excited. The river now covered the ball field. A dead woodchuck floated belly-up among the bobbing plastic bottles. Canada geese swam through the debris, unperturbed.
Read moreWatching the waters rise in Bellevue
May 7, 2010 It’s the strangest thing to watch televised images of people carrying other folks out in boats and know it’s happening only a few blocks away. I could hear the helicopter broadcasting the pictures I was seeing. Looking at the aerial shot of Bellevue, it was hard to believe anything was left of our little town. It felt wrong to be sitting there watching it, to be observing the wreckage of my neighbors’ lives.
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