Josephine Jacobsen has been a published poet for 79 years, since the children's magazine St. Nicholas printed a poem when she was 10 years old. Many years later, in an essay about becoming a poet, she remembered the never-to-be-equaled experience of going down to the newsstand, buying a copy of the magazine and opening it to her first published poem:
"I stood on the sidewalk, obstructive, stunned, looking at my words, naked, displayed to the world, and happily I did not know that this deflowering would be a climax never reached again. For I was purely satisfied."
The last three years, however, have seen another professional climax of sorts for this distinguished poet, short-story writer, critic and resident of Baltimore. In 1995 the Johns Hopkins University Press published "In the Crevice of Time," her collected poems, and it was nominated for the National Book Award. In 1996, Hopkins published "What Goes Without Saying," her collected short stories. And just this past week, the University of Michigan Press has published "The Instant of Knowing: Lectures, Criticism, and Occasional Prose."
Modesty and surprise
Now significant collections of Jacobsen's writing in poetry, fiction and nonfiction are available at once. With customary modesty, she expresses some surprise that a publisher was found for the just-published book of nonfiction writings, edited by fellow poet Elizabeth Spires.
"When Beth Spires, whose judgment I respect and who I think is a fine poet, said she wanted to collect some of my shorter pieces, I didn't think she would be able to do anything with them," says Jacobsen. "She did all the work, every bit of it. She sent them herself out to the University of Michigan. She even did the typo reading, and so far I haven't found one single mistake. It's very nice for me to have them brought together. And I've been astonished that people really are interested in them."
In fact, "The Instant of Knowing" may find a wide audience. It contains Jacobsen's major lectures on poetry and essays on leading literary figures such as Robert Frost, William Carlos Williams and Samuel Beckett. But the largest single section is devoted to 21 pieces she wrote for The Sun's op-ed page between 1977 and 1980. These delightful short essays are taken directly from experience. In one, Jacobsen sees the snow-covered top of Mount Kilimanjaro come out of the clouds just at midnight on New Year's Eve. In another, she raises an eyebrow at those English people who express amazement when an American seems the least bit civilized.
