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About Just out. (Portland, OR) 1983-2013 | View Entire Issue (March 1, 2002)
36 Jm t më ? march t. 2002 Inventory Clearance! LaFree Ahead of her time A new biographical study of a sexy, radical poet by O riana G reen by Giant SALE Reg $999 Slope-tube or step-through models available WunfMlm ELECTRIC BICYCLES & SCOOTERS $799 Exp 3-10-02 PORTLAND'S ONLY AUTHORIZED DEALER 122 NE 122nd • 503-255-4100 A benefit for the Hambleton Project Supporting lesbians facing cancer and other life threatening illnesses Saturday March 16 Tickets at Ticketmaster, the Aladdin Box Office and It’s My Pleasure ¡iie t r T m J lw ll ' l l W Rufus Wainwright m Aladdi Tuesday March 12w Produced by House of Blues rWIDViKKl Ml l HH" ì HKRSÌ SE MILWAUKIE AT P OW EL L • 503-233-1994 • www.aladdm-theater.com T I C K E T S AT THE A L A O O I N B O * O F F I C E 1 ALL T I C K E T M A S T E R O U T L E T S O R C H A R G E 8V P H O N E 503 224 4400 received a volume of poetry by Edna St. Vincent Millay for my 12th birthday. As a teen-ager I memorized many of her poems and loved to go off into the wotxls and shout them to the sky— an inherently natural thing to do, since her work is so rooted in her spiritual connection to nature. Although 1 wholeheartedly rec ommend readers acquaint them selves with the poetry of Millay, it is the extraordinary life she led in the first half of the 20th century that fascinates most. An early femi nist and radical innovator, she blithely changed American ideas about what women could do simply by livjng an unorthodox life. Millay was as adventurous in her sexuality as she was in all other aspects, and all her most important early connections were with women. Savage Beauty (Random House, 2001; $29.95 hardcover) is the new authorized biography by Nancy Milford, who had access to all of the poet’s papers through her only surviving sister, Nonna. The author spent 20 years plowing through what sounds like truckloads (if dis organized material to write this Kxik and has conveyed the 58 years of her rest less life in chronological order. W hat’s missing is historical context to emphasize the rarity (if many of Millay’s actions and to interpret her experience for 21st century readers. Nowhere is this lack more felt than in the recounting (it her college years ar Vassar. Millay entered college at age 21 on a full scholarship. She often chafed at the strict rules designed tor younger women. Petite, with flam ing red hair and brilliant green eyes, she pre sented herself with great drama—dressing with flair and exhibiting the posture of one who is steeped in self-confidence. In fact, she frequently jeopardized her edu cation by defiantly maintaining overt affairs with female classmates, who besieged her with passionate love letters, such as this one: “How I want to come hack to you— yes 1 know I have just left— hut the longing in me never leaves and this is a night that seems for you and me.’’ A t the same time, Millay corresponded with one (if her many male suitors to whom she had, as Milford pejoratively writes, “con fessed” her love (if women. A rthur HiXiley’s response reflected the devaluing of lesbian relationships at that time: “Even if you had cared for a girl, and even if you had given yourself (so far as you could), 1 do not think 1 should care greatly.” Millay, at least, was offended by that and replied to the insensitive Brit, “G(id forbid that 1 should give my heart to a dyspeptic Englishman!” After college Millay and her sister moved to barely habitable rooms in Greenwich Village, already a haven for free spirits. The p<iet wrote of a novel method to acquaint her sister with the language she’d hear there: “So we sat darn ing socks and practiced the use of profanity. Needle in, shit. Needle out, piss. Needle in, fuck. Needle out, cunt." Despite her diminutive size, Millay never NANCY MILFORD AUT HOR OF ZEIDA St. Vincent saw herself as a victim. W hen two young men tried to force their attentions on the sisters out walking in th e country, Edna (or Vincent, as she preferred to he called) summoned them closer, saying directly: “It is true that we have vaginas and breasts, hut we are walking alone together because ir pleases us to and that is our right. We have selected to he alone, and we intend to so rem ain.” T he men tm k (iff like rabhits. In 1921 Millav was commissioned to write a play for rhe 50rh anniversary of Vassar. The luimp and the Bell centered on rhe love betw een two young women who, to make the subject som ew hat less scandalous, became stepsisters. It was tvpical of her to forge ahead so boldly— and appropriately, actually, because Vassar was, as she had written, a hotbed of Sapphic intrigue. Although Millay eventually married, it was an open marriage to a hi man, and they for some time enjoyed a three-way relationship with another hi man. And she always had admiring women in her life whom she bedded whenever she wanted. As one of th e first women to tour the country regularly giving public readings, the first with her own national radio program and the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize for poetry, Millay was one of the most famous women in the country during the 1930s. A nd undoubtedly the most liberated. She was liv ing the life of a sexual revolutionary decades ahead of her time, blazing a trail for future generations. By Millays last decade, she was caught under the twin spells of alcohol and morphine. Although knowing all of the sordid details of the poet’s life is not a requisite for appreciating her writing, it does certainly place it in a vastly different light, helping us value even more the remarkable body of work she created under sometimes harrowing circumstances. JT1
