Arielle Greenberg is a new member of the lively Maine poetry scene, and we’re glad she and her family chose to settle in Belfast after she left a tenured position in poetry at Columbia College Chicago. She is co-author, with Rachel Zucker, of the hybrid-genre Home/Birth: A Poemic, and author of My Kafka Century, Given, and several chapbooks, including the forthcoming Shake Her.
LB: What is an artifact you have in your studio or writing space, and what does it mean for your work?
AG: I don't really have a writing space per se: I usually write the first drafts of my poems long-hand, preferably while lying horizontally across my bed, or on scraps of paper while I'm driving, or on the backs of other sheets of paper. Later I type them in at my computer, which is on a little vintage Danish modern desk in my "office" next to the kids' playroom. My desk is covered with papers, books, things I rip out of magazines, etc., but none of these are exactly artifacts. So, no artifact and no writing space! I don't mind, though: I'm generally kind of adverse to things or routines that mythologize and idealize the act of poem-making.
LB: We're interested in knowing what you've read recently but we'd love to know what you wish you had read at some point, or sometimes pretend you have read.AG: I really want to read Lydia Davis' translation of Proust. Quite a project, and one I've been meaning to undertake for years, but still have not. I've never read Proust. I love the idea of Proust, but I'm not sure I'll like the actual thing. I love Davis, though, so I feel like if anyone can get me to read him in translation, it will be her.
LB: What is something you would like to tell the world?AG: Oh, gosh. I'm such a loudmouth: I'm sure that I've already shouted everything I want to tell the world more than I ought to have.