Dayswork by Chris Bachelder

Author:Chris Bachelder
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: W. W. Norton & Company
Published: 2023-09-05T00:00:00+00:00

This morning I was once again denied access to “Some Psychological Reflections on the Death of Malcolm Melville” in the Winter 1976 issue of Suicide and Life-Threatening Behavior, so I stared out the window for a while.

So I reread the so-called “Malcolm Letter,” written by an exuberant Melville on the occasion of Malcolm’s birth—

I think of calling him Barbarossa—Adolphus—Ferdinand—Otho—Grandissimo Hercules—Sampson—Bonaparte—Lambert.

So I electronically consented to my child’s remote participation in Freedom from Chemical Dependency Week.

So I ordered more masks, more disinfectant wipes, more birdseed.

So I ordered more dog food and more coffee filters.

So I went to the basement to move the laundry and watched my husband affix a piece of wood to another piece of wood with screws and glue and the appearance of deep contentment.

So I took out the recycling and then the compost.

So I threw the ball for the dog.

So I compared various translations of a haiku about the cold voice of the autumn wind speaking through a crack in the door.

So I regarded a yellow sticky note on which I had at some point written the name of Melville’s brother’s clipper ship, Meteor.

So I noticed an anagram—remote.

And another—emoter.

So I reread the letters the remote emoter wrote aboard the Meteor—

There’s this great part in the one to Malcolm where Melville explains how the letter will be carried from San Francisco to a place called Panama to Havana to New York and finally to Pittsfield.

It will take about twenty-five days, he told his son.

The truth is, Melville’s periodic and extended absences from home were likely a welcome respite for Lizzie and their four children.

By numerous accounts he was prone to angry and tyrannical episodes—“ugly attacks,” in the phrase of Lizzie’s cousin.

His granddaughter years later wrote of his “desperate irascibility” and “bursts of nervous anger.”

Of “the solace of brandy.”

“Even when he was in a good mood,” writes one biographer, “the force of his personality and his need to be the center of attention put enormous demands on others, and when he was in a bad mood, he could be a terror.”

Even the Biographer makes reference to “a harsh impoverished household.”

The misery and tyranny in the house reached a tragic climax in 1867, which has been called Melville’s annus horribilis.

In August of the previous year he had published his first book in nearly a decade—

Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War, a collection of poems and commentary about the Civil War.

Based on his lofty subject matter and the success of other contemporary collections, Melville hoped to achieve a wide readership, make money, and reestablish his literary prestige.

Melville, Herman (1819–1891):

hopes of,

“[A] small slither of hope,” in the words of one of my husband’s students.

[Sic] but evocative.

“Hope” is the thing that slithers—

That lurches from its hole—

Occasions tighter Breathing—

Then can’t be found—at all—

Battle-Pieces received poor reviews and did not sell well.

Melville lost money on the publication, and not long after its release contacted an acquaintance, the collector of customs for the Port of New York, about a job.

In December, less than four months after the publication of his first collection of poetry, he was sworn in as a customs inspector—

deputy inspector No.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.