Thank-you Mad Men

Frank O'Hara: 1926-1966. A charismatic figure who trusted his emotions, loved his friends and his city, and enhanced a mythological period of self confidence in American art and culture. O'Hara wrote much of his poetry in spare moments: while at lunch, on a ferry ride, or in a bar... all while he was very busy living life.

I am a little behind everyone else. I just finished watching the 1st and 2nd season of Mad Men on DVD. I am always excited and surprised when a TV show incorporates literature- especially when they do it well. Another bonus comes when the feature exposes you to an artist or works that may have previously slipped by you. I had heard of Frank O'Hara, but had not read his work until watching the Mad Men episode where Don Draper receives the "challenge" from the Boheme in the bar. The Boheme is reading a copy of O'Hara's book, Meditations In An Emergency, and when Don asks if it is good, the reader replies "I don't think you would like it." We don't expect Don would like it either, or have a real interest, but herein lies the magic of this character- the next thing we know, he is reading it... and beautifully reciting a portion from "Mayakovsky"... and mailing the book to an unknown person with the inscription.. "this made me think of you." The day after this episode aired on TV, Amazon sales of Meditations went from a ranking of 15,657 to 161. This reinforces my belief that people like poetry and want to read it, but often need permission from our pop culture to do so. Since I don't have the book, yet, I am posting the portion of the poem so I can have easy access. The best way to experience it is to watch Don Draper read it in the show. Thank-you, Mad Men.

From "Mayakovsky"

Now I am quietly waiting for
the catastrophe of my personality
to seem beautiful again,
and interesting, and modern.

The country is grey and
brown and white in trees,
snows and skies of laughter
always diminishing, less funny
not just darker, not just grey.

It may be the coldest day of
the year, what does he think of
that? I mean, what do I? and if I do,
perhaps I am myself again.

Frank O'Hara