An Interview with Renata McCormish
UTSQ: How long have you been writing? What made you want to be a poet? What do you do beside write?
Renata McCormish: I composed my first poems when I was five years old. I say “composed,” because I did not learn how to read and write until the age of six. I simply memorized my poems. I cannot point out a single moment or person that inspired me to be a poet. My relatives and friends had no interest in poetry. But I felt its constant presence everywhere (without realizing what it was). I soon became aware that I saw the world in a slightly different, more acute way. It was difficult not to be able to talk about poetry with my family and friends, but on the other hand, its presence meant that I was never alone. I worked as a freelance interpreter and translator before moving to the United States, then gave up my career in order to support my ex-husband’s, and took care of our children for thirteen years. I kept writing poems, eight years ago for the first time in English. I reinvented my language the same way I had to reinvent myself in a new country. Today I still put my children first, but also work on my MFA degree in Creative Writing at Carlow University in Pittsburgh, PA, and Carlow, Ireland. For the first time in my life, I am among “my people.” I translate Czech poetry into English. My main focus is the mid-war period, outstanding poets like Otokar Fischer, Konstantin Biebl, and Vladimir Holan among others. When I complete my graduate studies in spring ‘09, I would like to start teaching creative writing and literary translation at the college level. By then, my second manuscript will be finished, and my first collection of poetry in translation nearly done.
UTSQ: What poets inspire you the most? Do you have any favorite modern poets?
RM: Poets who believe in what they do, who are not afraid to say that they are poets in today’s ego-and-money-driven world. I discovered the first inspiring poets in the library. Rainer Maria Rilke, Konstantin Biebl, Charles Baudelaire, Arthur Rimbaud, Lermontov… I could go on forever. Before I started the MFA program at Carlow University, all of my poetic “mentors” had been dead for years. I read and reread their work repeatedly. I am not one to follow popular trends in poetry. I believe in quality and honesty, no matter where it comes from. As far as modern poets are concerned, I love the work of Charles Wright, Mary O’Donnell, Ann Townsend, and Michael Coady.
UTSQ: What does poetry mean to you? What does your poetry in particular mean to you? How do you remind yourself that what you are doing is important, not only on a personal level, but on a universal scale?
RM: Poetry is the authentic part of our lives. It puts everything into perspective and helps us to understand what really matters in life. Reason is not everything. The same is true about my own poetry. It has taught me a great deal of humility. No matter from which point of view I write, my poems go far beyond personal reflections. They are concerned with all of humanity. It is painful to see when people put instant gratification first in their lives, and then suffer from the consequences. I do not have to remind myself that what I am doing is important. I have always felt it strongly.
UTSQ: Your native language is Czech. In what ways do you feel your Czech background has helped shape your poetry?
RM: The Czech Republic has a strong cultural base. Even during the communist regime, poetry was an integral part of general education (even though it was heavily censored). I grew up surrounded by the history – Gothic cathedrals, Baroque statues, ruined castles… their influence can be seen in my poetry to this day. Prague is not the only Czech city steeped in mysticism. As you can imagine, such genius loci does wonders for one’s imagination. There is also the aspect of translation. As Schopenhauer says, “one thinks differently in every language.” When you translate poetry from one language to another, you become more aware of each word’s meaning. It opens new inspirational gates in original poetry, no matter in which language it is written.
UTSQ: Do you feel that there is a difference in technique and content between your style of writing and American Contemporary writing?
RM: Definitely. It has been brought to my attention more than once during my graduate studies at Carlow University. My poetry differs significantly from the work of other poets in the program. My first MFA residency in Pittsburgh with Jan Beatty was all about craft elements in the contemporary American poetry. When I continued with Mary O’Donnell in Ireland, I could return to the large context again, let my European voice resurface with new strength. My second mentor in Pittsburgh and third one in the program, Ann Townsend, allowed me to blend those two approaches into one – a difficult, yet invigorating task. All three mentors have contributed immensely to the technique and content of my current writing style. I suppose the European influence is still more tangible in my work, but there are no borders set for my readers. I speak to all of them equally.
UTSQ: Most modern poets have used italics in their writing at some point or another. Why did you choose to use this technique in “Chung Tea Ceremony” and in the last two lines of “The Package?” What significance were you aspiring to create with the use of italics?
RM: The use of italics is Jan Beatty’s stamp on my poetry. In “The Package,” they point out the character’s direct speech and the overall message of the poem. “Chung Tea Ceremony” is more complex. As a matter of fact, my latest revision of the poem (after my submission to your literary magazine) clarifies who is the author of the direct speech in stanza 1, lines 2-3: “You lean forward, touch its wide mouth, and say, there is a vast / sea inside the man. He rests between the heaven and the earth.” In the following stanzas of “Chung Tea Ceremony,” the italics signify the subtle, yet important meaning of the specific tea ceremony. The cup is the man, its lid the heaven, and the saucer the earth. Man constantly struggles between the heaven and the earth. No matter in which century we live, the struggle is there, just in different forms.
UTSQ: You are currently working on your MFA in Creative Writing. Was this degree choice a hard decision to make knowing the competitiveness and limitations of this field?
RM: Honestly, no. I had always wanted to explore poetry on as many levels as possible, but once I got married and became an American corporate wife, it was not possible. I continued to write in seclusion. Sadly, I was free to make this decision only after a bitter divorce. It is not easy to start all over again with two children in a foreign country with no family support after thirteen years out of the work force, but I knew I had to follow my calling this time. Plus, it is a degree compatible with my undergraduate degree in translation and interpreting. It will give me an opportunity to teach what I strongly believe in, and resurrect the work of many fine Czech poets outside the Czech Republic, most of whom have never been translated into English.
UTSQ: You are a purposeful and self reflective writer. We feel that you have a strong grasp on your emotions and have a tendency to write about your own personal revelations. How do you recognize these subtle moments as profound and how do you transfer them to the paper?
RM: Thank you. This is perhaps the most difficult question to answer. The day I know how poems come to me will be the day I get lost. I can control the language, content, and technique of my poems, but not their origin. If I do recognize such moments, it happens when I am at my busiest… cooking, doing laundry, making repairs in the house, driving… I write the fragments on bits of paper, and then return to them later when my children are at school or asleep. Each time I transfer a new poem to the paper, the poem transfers something inside me. I would not have it any other way.
Renata McCormish: I composed my first poems when I was five years old. I say “composed,” because I did not learn how to read and write until the age of six. I simply memorized my poems. I cannot point out a single moment or person that inspired me to be a poet. My relatives and friends had no interest in poetry. But I felt its constant presence everywhere (without realizing what it was). I soon became aware that I saw the world in a slightly different, more acute way. It was difficult not to be able to talk about poetry with my family and friends, but on the other hand, its presence meant that I was never alone. I worked as a freelance interpreter and translator before moving to the United States, then gave up my career in order to support my ex-husband’s, and took care of our children for thirteen years. I kept writing poems, eight years ago for the first time in English. I reinvented my language the same way I had to reinvent myself in a new country. Today I still put my children first, but also work on my MFA degree in Creative Writing at Carlow University in Pittsburgh, PA, and Carlow, Ireland. For the first time in my life, I am among “my people.” I translate Czech poetry into English. My main focus is the mid-war period, outstanding poets like Otokar Fischer, Konstantin Biebl, and Vladimir Holan among others. When I complete my graduate studies in spring ‘09, I would like to start teaching creative writing and literary translation at the college level. By then, my second manuscript will be finished, and my first collection of poetry in translation nearly done.
UTSQ: What poets inspire you the most? Do you have any favorite modern poets?
RM: Poets who believe in what they do, who are not afraid to say that they are poets in today’s ego-and-money-driven world. I discovered the first inspiring poets in the library. Rainer Maria Rilke, Konstantin Biebl, Charles Baudelaire, Arthur Rimbaud, Lermontov… I could go on forever. Before I started the MFA program at Carlow University, all of my poetic “mentors” had been dead for years. I read and reread their work repeatedly. I am not one to follow popular trends in poetry. I believe in quality and honesty, no matter where it comes from. As far as modern poets are concerned, I love the work of Charles Wright, Mary O’Donnell, Ann Townsend, and Michael Coady.
UTSQ: What does poetry mean to you? What does your poetry in particular mean to you? How do you remind yourself that what you are doing is important, not only on a personal level, but on a universal scale?
RM: Poetry is the authentic part of our lives. It puts everything into perspective and helps us to understand what really matters in life. Reason is not everything. The same is true about my own poetry. It has taught me a great deal of humility. No matter from which point of view I write, my poems go far beyond personal reflections. They are concerned with all of humanity. It is painful to see when people put instant gratification first in their lives, and then suffer from the consequences. I do not have to remind myself that what I am doing is important. I have always felt it strongly.
UTSQ: Your native language is Czech. In what ways do you feel your Czech background has helped shape your poetry?
RM: The Czech Republic has a strong cultural base. Even during the communist regime, poetry was an integral part of general education (even though it was heavily censored). I grew up surrounded by the history – Gothic cathedrals, Baroque statues, ruined castles… their influence can be seen in my poetry to this day. Prague is not the only Czech city steeped in mysticism. As you can imagine, such genius loci does wonders for one’s imagination. There is also the aspect of translation. As Schopenhauer says, “one thinks differently in every language.” When you translate poetry from one language to another, you become more aware of each word’s meaning. It opens new inspirational gates in original poetry, no matter in which language it is written.
UTSQ: Do you feel that there is a difference in technique and content between your style of writing and American Contemporary writing?
RM: Definitely. It has been brought to my attention more than once during my graduate studies at Carlow University. My poetry differs significantly from the work of other poets in the program. My first MFA residency in Pittsburgh with Jan Beatty was all about craft elements in the contemporary American poetry. When I continued with Mary O’Donnell in Ireland, I could return to the large context again, let my European voice resurface with new strength. My second mentor in Pittsburgh and third one in the program, Ann Townsend, allowed me to blend those two approaches into one – a difficult, yet invigorating task. All three mentors have contributed immensely to the technique and content of my current writing style. I suppose the European influence is still more tangible in my work, but there are no borders set for my readers. I speak to all of them equally.
UTSQ: Most modern poets have used italics in their writing at some point or another. Why did you choose to use this technique in “Chung Tea Ceremony” and in the last two lines of “The Package?” What significance were you aspiring to create with the use of italics?
RM: The use of italics is Jan Beatty’s stamp on my poetry. In “The Package,” they point out the character’s direct speech and the overall message of the poem. “Chung Tea Ceremony” is more complex. As a matter of fact, my latest revision of the poem (after my submission to your literary magazine) clarifies who is the author of the direct speech in stanza 1, lines 2-3: “You lean forward, touch its wide mouth, and say, there is a vast / sea inside the man. He rests between the heaven and the earth.” In the following stanzas of “Chung Tea Ceremony,” the italics signify the subtle, yet important meaning of the specific tea ceremony. The cup is the man, its lid the heaven, and the saucer the earth. Man constantly struggles between the heaven and the earth. No matter in which century we live, the struggle is there, just in different forms.
UTSQ: You are currently working on your MFA in Creative Writing. Was this degree choice a hard decision to make knowing the competitiveness and limitations of this field?
RM: Honestly, no. I had always wanted to explore poetry on as many levels as possible, but once I got married and became an American corporate wife, it was not possible. I continued to write in seclusion. Sadly, I was free to make this decision only after a bitter divorce. It is not easy to start all over again with two children in a foreign country with no family support after thirteen years out of the work force, but I knew I had to follow my calling this time. Plus, it is a degree compatible with my undergraduate degree in translation and interpreting. It will give me an opportunity to teach what I strongly believe in, and resurrect the work of many fine Czech poets outside the Czech Republic, most of whom have never been translated into English.
UTSQ: You are a purposeful and self reflective writer. We feel that you have a strong grasp on your emotions and have a tendency to write about your own personal revelations. How do you recognize these subtle moments as profound and how do you transfer them to the paper?
RM: Thank you. This is perhaps the most difficult question to answer. The day I know how poems come to me will be the day I get lost. I can control the language, content, and technique of my poems, but not their origin. If I do recognize such moments, it happens when I am at my busiest… cooking, doing laundry, making repairs in the house, driving… I write the fragments on bits of paper, and then return to them later when my children are at school or asleep. Each time I transfer a new poem to the paper, the poem transfers something inside me. I would not have it any other way.
