Marion Bethel and the Art-Life Conundrum

The last time I went to a literature reading was years ago, when the brilliant J. K. Rowling blessed Toronto with her presence. It was a record-breaking event, securing my (though anonymous) immortality in the Guinness Book of World Records. This was a decidedly different experience.

This was an intimate occasion, with no more than thirty of us packed into the tiny New College Women's Lounge. She stood on the same level as us, with a small podium to hold her work and a chair for her to sit in after the reading. Dr. Christian Campbell, a professor at the University of Toronto in the English Department, gave the standard introduction ("Marion Bethel is a Bahamian poet, fiction writer and feminist activist...") before delving into his personal history with the artist.

When Bethel was given the stand, she was just so shockingly humble; she spoke some more about Dr. Campbell, and then proceeded to personally thank nearly every member of the audience. It soon became clear that this was a reunion for her.

Bethel immigrated to Canada at the age of ten, sent to boarding school in Toronto by a father who wanted a better life for her. Many of the people at the reading last night were people who had helped her to become accomidated to Toronto: the family that took her in as one of their own, the teachers who fostered her talent. She was also joined by her contemporaries -- other Caribbean writers, artists and teachers. The atmosphere in the room was comfortable and familiar, and those of us who were not formally acquainted with Bethel soon settled into the feeling of intimacy between audience and performer.

She then proceeded with the dedications, during which she was very emotionally moved. She spoke about her mother, Jane Bethel, who is afflicted with Alzheimer’s. Bethel revealed that her mother's spirit anchors much of what she does and fuels her poetic journey. She dedicated the reading as well to the memory of her father, and she noted that his legacy continues to unfold in her life. She also spoke about the aforementioned foster family, who gave her refuge when she first came to Canada and introduced her to the culture that her new home had to offer.

Her readings were done from her newest manuscript, Bougainvillea Ringplay, and it was such a privilege to be given a glance at the brilliance of this work. Since her first book, Guanahani My Love, she has adopted a more jazzy tone, leaving the more formal structure of sonnets and quatrains. Her newer poems took more risks and certainly had more erotic undertones. I'm not sure when the book will be released, but I'm hoping it's soon!

One of my favourites was the first poem she read, called "Tobacco Dove". She introduced it by explaining that a tobacco dove is a species of dove found in the Bahamas; it is brown with a black ring around its neck. Bethel described a memory of the dove that had stuck in her mind -- of when she was taking a walk and saw a woman cradling such a dove, stroking it and trying to coax it to fly again. The poem was told from the first person from the dove's perspective, and was an ode to the desperation that comes attached to being no longer able to do what your body is built to. It had a thread of loss throughout it, and also a sense of defiance.

The next poem that really connected with me was called "Sweet Chariot". As an introduction, Bethel described a young man she had met while she was working as a lawyer in the Bahamas. She was attempting, on appeal, to get this man off death row. He was in his early twenties, and had been in jail since he was 18, but asked her to give up the appeal -- he had made his peace and was ready to die.

This poem was an emotional performance, painting a picture of a man dying by hanging. It was peppered with onomatopoeia and the sense of rapidity, "quick quick", "high high" and then finally "snap". Bethel combined the descriptions of death with shocking erotic images which forcefully conveyed the sense of disparity, the paradox of the situation. His life, she explained, brief and violent though it had been, was far less terrifying than his death.

The poem which, I personally felt, best conveyed her own personal history was the poem "In the Marketplace". It reaches deep into Bethel's memory, to the time when she was sent away to Canada by her father. It reveals how the purpose of her move was to "buy her a new tongue" and shows the regret and sorrow she felt when she lost her accent and characteristic hip-swinging walk. The poem moves through her crisis of personal identity by evoking the image of a marketplace and shows how she felt commodified by the decisions her father made for her. She was being sent for a new tongue. The question inevitably raised is, what was wrong with her old one?

The interview after the reading revealed a lot about her motives in writing poetry, about the class distinctions which shaped her life and the aesthetics of her poetry and how her writing continues to evolve. She spoke about the other artists who influenced her throughout her life and the activists who inspired her. It was truly an illuminating performance; it was honest and felt raw, unstaged. The way in which she was able to find her literature through her career as an attorney really came through to me; so many of us have to fight so hard to find time for our art. For those people who are truly gifted, such are Marion Bethel, no matter where circumstance and politics place them they will always find themselves guided back on the path towards their art. Bethel is taking a hiatus from law now to focus exclusively on her poetry, and I, for one, am thankful for it.

Event: Marion Bethel at the Women and Gender Studies Lounge, 2nd floor, New College, 20 Willcocks Street at the University of Toronto. Thursday October 15, 2009 from 6pm - 8pm