Thursday, February 27, 2020

#157 Backstory of the Poem "Vel' d'Hiv Roundup of 7,000 Jews Detained in an Arena" by Liz Marlow


*The images in this specific piece are granted copyright privilege by:  Public Domain, CCSAL, GNU Free Documentation Licenses, Fair Use Under The United States Copyright Law, or given copyright privilege by the copyright holder which is identified beneath the individual photo.

**Some of the links will have to be copied and then posted in your search engine in order to pull up properly

*** The CRC Blog welcomes submissions from published and unpublished poets for BACKSTORY OF THE POEM series.  Contact CRC Blog via email at caccoop@aol.com or personal Facebook messaging at https://www.facebook.com/car.cooper.7

***This is #157 in a never-ending series called BACKSTORY OF THE POEM where the Chris Rice Cooper Blog (CRC) focuses on one specific poem and how the poet wrote that specific poem.  All BACKSTORY OF THE POEM links are at the end of this piece. 

#157 Backstory of the Poem
“Vel’ d’Hiv Roundup of 7000 Jews Detained in an Arena”
by Liz Marlow

Can you go through the step-by-step process of writing this poem from the moment the idea was first conceived in your brain until final form? I began writing this poem when I first learned about the Vel d’Hiv roundup of 13,152 Jews in France to internment camps (later on, Nazis sent those people to concentration camps) beginning in July 1942 from reading a news article about the murder of a Parisian Jew who had avoided the roundup. As I researched the 1942 event and how 7,000 of those rounded up were detained in an arena, I tried to imagine what being one of those detainees would be like. Since the arena was so overcrowded, sensory overload was what came to mind, which sparked the idea to divide the poem into five parts—one for each of the five senses.


Where were you when you started to actually write the poem?  And please describe the place in great detail. I wrote the first draft of this poem (and later drafts) in my best friend’s mother’s condo (Below). The condo is across the street from an Orthodox synagogue (Right), and it is a quiet neighborhood. As I enter the condo, I pass a neighbor’s menorah in the window. While my best friend and I write, the only sounds we hear are from us shifting in our brown leather recliners or the HVAC unit cooling or heating the living room. I always write on my laptop, which rests on a wool plaid blanket across my lap. Since my best friend’s mother is an artist, I am surrounded by her artwork, which she changes out every few months. Next to the recliners is a fireplace framed in oak with a hand-built mantle.

What month and year did you start writing this poem? I began writing this poem in March 2018.

How many drafts of this poem did you write before going to the final? (And can you share a photograph of your rough drafts with pen markings on it?) The poem went through ten drafts before its final draft. Originally, it had two major sections. The first section described the event from 1942. 

          The second section was about the murder of the Parisian Jew, which occurred in March of 2018. However, I turned that second major section into a separate poem, because the two sections had completely different tones. Since I wrote all drafts of this poem on my laptop, I do not have any pen markings.

Were there any lines in any of your rough drafts of this poem that were not in the final version?  And can you share them with us?  Lines that I ended up cutting from the “Sound” section of the poem:
I stand next to a woman,
my ear against her
mouth, hear her sighs
like a flute.

       Cut lines from “Smell”:
              The stomach
takes a life
of its own.
Without water, food,
the mind
imagines bread rising.
Without toilets,
we become livestock
standing in our own shit.
At least geese raised
for foie gras are fed.

       Cut lines from “Taste”:
              Which is worse,
consuming waste
or a dead human?

       Cut lines from “Sight”:
              I close my eyes
and imagine
a street filled
with florists    
holding food
for caterpillars:
tulips, roses.
Innards filled
with rainbows.

What do you want readers of this poem to take from this poem? Background on the event: Beginning July 16, 1942, French police carried out orders by the Nazis to detain 13,152 Jews in various transit camps and at the Velodrome d’Hiver (an indoor cycling arena) before their eventual deportation to Auschwitz. Roughly 7,000 Jews (including 4,000 children) were held in the arena for five days with horrible sanitary conditions, no ventilation (to prevent escape), and lack of food and water.
There are many connections that readers can make between this poem and recent events from the US or many other parts of the world. This event that occurred during World War II shows how easily local police, politicians, and citizens can be convinced that innocent men, women, and children deserve to die simply because they are refugees, foreigners, and different. However, we are all humans.

Which part of the poem was the most emotional of you to write and why? The “Sound” part of the poem was the most emotional for me to write. If I close my eyes, I imagine a terrible sound of thousands of people trapped and full of fear in an arena. I have two children, and my son was two when I started writing this poem. He feels my emotions very intensely. When I am upset, he gets upset. When I imagine the sounds of all those children crying from lack of nourishment and improper ventilation, it saddens me, and I think of him and my daughter as babies. What’s horrifying is that French policemen stood outside and did nothing while they heard all of those sounds.

Has this poem been published before?  And if so where? Although this poem has not appeared in a journal, it is included in my debut chapbook, They Become Stars, which will launch at AWP 2020 in San Antonio, TX from Slapering Hol Press.


Anything you would like to add? Thank you for this blog. It is inspiring to learn what the writing process is for other writers.

Vel’ d’Hiv Roundup of 7,000 Jews Detained in an Arena

Paris, France, July 1942



Sound
After a few days here,
the only sounds
are tone clusters.
Babies’ cries—violins,
guitars in fortissimo.
Sneezes—trumpets.
Coughs—boom, boom
on wooden blocks
in crescendo.
Moans of the outro—
saxophone, flute
in diminuendo.

Smell
Ersatz rotten meat,
eggs, vegetables
come up and out
into buckets, filling
air like fumes
from tank engines.

Taste
I once saw
a neighbor child
stuff dirt into her mouth.
She said to her mother,
Mud pies,
rather than pica.
Will some rabbi
bless this ersatz?

Touch
If you’re imaginative
enough, a concrete floor
can become a soft bed.
A dead child
can become a pillow.
A shirt can transform
into a coat. Disregard
your body
shaking cold at night
like an epileptic.
Disregard your body
exploding
like a champagne bottle.

Sight
The space
between breaths
increases as hundreds
of chests rise
and fall like birds
flapping their wings,
flying away
as I await my turn.

Liz Marlow’s debut chapbook, They Become Stars, was the winner of the 2019 Slapering Hol Press Chapbook Competition and is forthcoming in 2020. Her other work has appeared in The Bitter Oleander, The Greensboro Review, Potomac Review, Tikkun, and elsewhere.

Readers can find me on Twitter @LizRMarlow or  
http://lizmarlow.com/




BACKSTORY OF THE POEM LINKS

001  December 29, 2017
Margo Berdeshevksy’s “12-24”

002  January 08, 2018
Alexis Rhone Fancher’s “82 Miles From the Beach, We Order The Lobster At Clear Lake Café”

003 January 12, 2018
Barbara Crooker’s “Orange”

004 January 22, 2018
Sonia Saikaley’s “Modern Matsushima”

005 January 29, 2018
Ellen Foos’s “Side Yard”

006 February 03, 2018
Susan Sundwall’s “The Ringmaster”

007 February 09, 2018
Leslea Newman’s “That Night”

008 February 17, 2018
Alexis Rhone Fancher “June Fairchild Isn’t Dead”

009 February 24, 2018
Charles Clifford Brooks III “The Gift of the Year With Granny”

010 March 03, 2018
Scott Thomas Outlar’s “The Natural Reflection of Your Palms”

011 March 10, 2018
Anya Francesca Jenkins’s “After Diane Beatty’s Photograph “History Abandoned”

012  March 17, 2018
Angela Narciso Torres’s “What I Learned This Week”

013 March 24, 2018
Jan Steckel’s “Holiday On ICE”

014 March 31, 2018
Ibrahim Honjo’s “Colors”

015 April 14, 2018
Marilyn Kallett’s “Ode to Disappointment”

016  April 27, 2018
Beth Copeland’s “Reliquary”

017  May 12, 2018
Marlon L Fick’s “The Swallows of Barcelona”

018  May 25, 2018
Juliet Cook’s “ARTERIAL DISCOMBOBULATION”

019  June 09, 2018
Alexis Rhone Fancher’s “Stiletto Killer. . . A Surmise”

020 June 16, 2018
Charles Rammelkamp’s “At Last I Can Start Suffering”

021  July 05, 2018
Marla Shaw O’Neill’s “Wind Chimes”

022 July 13, 2018
Julia Gordon-Bramer’s “Studying Ariel”

023 July 20, 2018
Bill Yarrow’s “Jesus Zombie”

024  July 27, 2018
Telaina Eriksen’s “Brag 2016”

025  August 01, 2018
Seth Berg’s “It is only Yourself that Bends – so Wake up!”

026  August 07, 2018
David Herrle’s “Devil In the Details”

027  August 13, 2018
Gloria Mindock’s “Carmen Polo, Lady Necklaces, 2017”

028  August 21, 2018
Connie Post’s “Two Deaths”

029  August 30, 2018
Mary Harwell Sayler’s “Faces in a Crowd”

030 September 16, 2018
Larry Jaffe’s “The Risking Point”

031  September 24, 2018
Mark Lee Webb’s “After We Drove”

032  October 04, 2018
Melissa Studdard’s “Astral”

033 October 13, 2018
Robert Craven’s “I Have A Bass Guitar Called Vanessa”

034  October 17, 2018
David Sullivan’s “Paper Mache Peaches of Heaven”

035 October 23, 2018
Timothy Gager’s “Sobriety”

036  October 30, 2018
Gary Glauber’s “The Second Breakfast”

037  November 04, 2018
Heather Forbes-McKeon’s “Melania’s Deaf Tone Jacket”

038 November 11, 2018
Andrena Zawinski’s “Women of the Fields”

039  November 00, 2018
Gordon Hilger’s “Poe”

040 November 16, 2018
Rita Quillen’s “My Children Question Me About Poetry” and “Deathbed Dreams”

041 November 20, 2018
Jonathan Kevin Rice’s “Dog Sitting”

042 November 22, 2018
Haroldo Barbosa Filho’s “Mountain”

043  November 27, 2018
Megan Merchant’s “Grief Flowers”

044 November 30, 2018
Jonathan P Taylor’s “This poem is too neat”

045  December 03, 2018
Ian Haight’s “Sungmyo for our Dead Father-in-Law”

046 December 06, 2018
Nancy Dafoe’s “Poem in the Throat”

047 December 11, 2018
Jeffrey Pearson’s “Memorial Day”

048  December 14, 2018
Frank Paino’s “Laika”

049  December 15, 2018
Jennifer Martelli’s “Anniversary”

O50  December 19, 2018
Joseph Ross’s For Gilberto Ramos, 15, Who Died in the Texas Desert, June 2014”

051 December 23, 2018
“The Persistence of Music”
by Anatoly Molotkov

052  December 27, 2018
“Under Surveillance”
by Michael Farry

053  December 28, 2018
“Grand Finale”
by Renuka Raghavan

054  December 29, 2018
“Aftermath”
by Gene Barry

055 January 2, 2019
“&”
by Larissa Shmailo

056  January 7, 2019
“The Seamstress:
by Len Kuntz

057  January 10, 2019
"Natural History"
by Camille T Dungy


058  January 11, 2019
“BLOCKADE”
by Brian Burmeister

059  January 12, 2019
“Lost”
by Clint Margrave

060 January 14, 2019
“Menopause”
by Pat Durmon

061 January 19, 2019
“Neptune’s Choir”
by Linda Imbler

062  January 22, 2019
“Views From the Driveway”
by Amy Barone

063  January 25, 2019
“The heron leaves her haunts in the marsh”
by Gail Wronsky

064  January 30, 2019
“Shiprock”
by Terry Lucas

065 February 02, 2019
“Summer 1970, The University of Virginia Opens to Women in the Fall”
by Alarie Tennille

066 February 05, 2019
“At School They Learn Nouns”
by Patrick Bizzaro

067  February 06, 2019
“I Must Not Breathe”
by Angela Jackson-Brown

068 February 11, 2019
“Lunch on City Island, Early June”
by Christine Potter

069 February 12, 2019
“Singing”
by Andrew McFadyen-Ketchum

070 February 14, 2019
“Daily Commute”
by Christopher P. Locke

071 February 18, 2019
“How Silent The Trees”
by Wyn Cooper


072 February 20, 2019
“A New Psalm of Montreal”
by Sheenagh Pugh

073 February 23, 2019
“Make Me A Butterfly”
by Amy Barbera

074 February 26, 2019
“Anthem”
by Sandy Coomer

075 March 4, 2019
“Shape of a Violin”
by Kelly Powell

076 March 5, 2019
“Inward Oracle”
by J.P. Dancing Bear

077 March 7, 2019
“I Broke My Bust Of Jesus”
by Susan Sundwall

078 March 9, 2019
“My Mother at 19”
by John Guzlowski

079 March 10, 2019
“Paddling”
by Chera Hammons Miller

080 March 12, 2019
“Of Water and Echo”
by Gillian Cummings

081   082   083    March 14, 2019
“Little Political Sense”   “Crossing Kansas with Jim
Morrison”  “The Land of Sky and Blue Waters”
by Dr. Lindsey Martin-Bowen

084 March 15, 2019
“A Tune To Remember”
by Anna Evans

085 March 19, 2019
“At the End of Time (Wish You Were Here)
by Jeannine Hall Gailey

086 March 20, 2019
“Garden of Gethsemane”
by Marletta Hemphill

087 March 21, 2019
“Letters From a War”
by Chelsea Dingman

088 March 26, 2019
“HAT”
by Bob Heman

089 March 27, 2019
“Clay for the Potter”
by Belinda Bourgeois

#090 March 30, 2019
“The Pose”
by John Hicks

#091 April 2, 2019
“Last Night at the Wursthaus”
by Doug Holder

#092 April 4, 2019
“Original Sin”
by Diane Lockward

#093 April 5, 2019
“A Father Calls to his child on liveleak”
by Stephen Byrne

#094 April 8, 2019
“XX”
by Marc Zegans

#095 April 12, 2019
“Landscape and Still Life”
by Marjorie Maddox

#096 April 16, 2019
“Strawberries Have Been Growing Here for Hundreds of
Years”
by Mary Ellen Lough

#097 April 17, 2019
“The New Science of Slippery Surfaces”
by Donna Spruijt-Metz

#098 April 19, 2019
“Tennessee Epithalamium”
by Alyse Knorr

#099 April 20, 2019
“Mermaid, 1969”
by Tameca L. Coleman

#100 April 21, 2019
“How Do You Know?”
by Stephanie

#101 April 23, 2019
“Rare Book and Reader”
by Ned Balbo

#102 April 26, 2019
“THUNDER”
by Jefferson Carter

#103 May 01, 2019
“The sight of a million angels”
by Jenneth Graser

#104 May 09, 2019
“How to tell my dog I’m dying”
by Richard Fox

#105 May 17, 2019
“Promises Had Been Made”
by Sarah Sarai

#106 June 01, 2019
“i sold your car today”
by Pamela Twining

#107 June 02, 2019
“Abandoned Stable”
by Nancy Susanna Breen

#108 June 05, 2019
“Cupcake”
by Julene Tripp Weaver

#109 June 6, 2019
“Bobby’s Story”
by Jimmy Pappas

#110 June 10, 2019
“When You Ask Me to Tell You About My Father”
by Pauletta Hansel

#111 Backstory of the Poem’s
“Cemetery Mailbox”
by Jennifer Horne

#112 Backstory of the Poem’s
“Relics”
by Kate Peper

#113 Backstory of the Poem’s
“Q”
by Jennifer Johnson

#114 Backstory of the Poem’s
“Brushing My Hair”
by Tammika Dorsey Jones

#115 Backstory of the Poem
“Because the Birds Will Survive, Too”
by Katherine Riegel

#116 Backstory of the Poem
“DIVORCE”
by Joan Barasovska

#117 Backstory of the Poem
“NEW YEAR”S EVE 2016”
by Michael Meyerhofer

#118 Backstory of the Poem
“Dear the estranged,”
by Gina Tron

#119 Backstory of the Poem
“In Remembrance of Them”
by Janet Renee Cryer

#120 Backstory of the Poem
“Horse Fly Grade Card, Doesn’t Play Well With Others”
by David L. Harrison

#121 Backstory of the Poem
“My Mother’s Cookbook”
by Rachael Ikins

#122 Backstory of the Poem
“Cousins I Never Met”
by Maureen Kadish Sherbondy

#123 Backstory of the Poem
“To Those Who Were Our First Gods”
by Nickole Brown

#124 Backstory of the Poem
“Looking For Sunsets (In the Early Morning)”
by Paul Levinson

#125 Backstory of the Poem
“Tracy”
by Tiff Holland

#126 Backstory of the Poem
“Legs”
by Cindy Hochman

#127 Backstory of the Poem
“Anathema”
by Natasha Saje

#128 Backstory of the Poem
“How to Explain Fertility When an Acquaintance Asks Casually”
by Allison Blevins

#129 Backstory of the Poem
“The Art of Meditation In Tennessee”
by Linda Parsons

#130 Backstory of the Poem
“Schooling High, In Beslan”
by Satabdi Saha

#131 Backstory of the Poem
“Baby Jacob survives the Oso Landslide, 2014”
by Amie Zimmerman

#132 Backstory of the Poem
“Our Age of Anxiety”
by Henry Israeli

#133 Backstory of the Poem
“Earth Cries; Heaven Smiles”
by Ken Allan Dronsfield

#134  Backstory of the Poem
“Eons”
by Janine Canan

#135 Backstory of the Poem
“Sworn”
by Catherine Zickgraf

#136 Backstory of the Poem
“Bushwick Blue”
by Susana H. Case

#137 Backstory of the Poem
“Then She Was Forever”
by Paula Persoleo

#138 Backstory of the Poem
“Enough”
by Kris Bigalk

#139 Backstory of the Poem
“From Ghosts of the Upper Floor”
by Tony Trigilio

#140 Backstory of the Poem
“Cloud Audience”
by Wanita Zumbrunnen

#141 Backstory of the Poem
“Condition Center”
by Matthew Freeman

#142 Backstory of the Poem
“Adventuresome Woman”
by Cheryl Suchors

#143 Backstory of the Poem
“The Way Back”
by Robert Walicki

#144 Backstory of the Poem
“If I Had Three Lives”
by Sarah Russell

#145 Backstory of the Poem
“Reservoir”
by Andrea Rexilius

#146 Backstory of the Poem
“The Night Before Our Dog Died”
by Melissa Fite Johnson

#147 Backstory of the Poem
“Pileated”
by David Anthony Sam

#148 Backstory of the Poem
“A Kitchen Argument”
by Matthew Gwathmey

#149 Backstory of the Poem
“Insulation”
by Bruce Kauffman

#150 Backstory of the Poem
“I Will Tell You Where I’ve Been”
by Justin Hamm

#151 Backstory of the Poem
“Comfort”
by Michael A Griffith

#152 Backstory of the Poem
“VAN GOGH TO HIS MISTRESS”
by Margo Taft Stever

#153 Backstory of the Poem
“1. Girl”
by Margaret Manuel

#154 Backstory of the Poem
“Trading Places”
by Maria Chisolm

#155 Backstory of the Poem
“The Reoccurring Woman”
by Debra May

#156 Backstory of the Poem
“Word Falling”
by Sheryl St. Germain

#157 Backstory of the Poem
“Vel’ d’Hiv Roundup of 7,000 Jews Detained in an
Arena”
by Liz Marlow

Tuesday, February 25, 2020

Guest Blog Post by Illinois Writer Stephanie Menendez "What is Flash Fiction?"



*The images in this specific piece are granted copyright privilege by:  Public Domain, CCSAL, GNU Free Documentation Licenses, Fair Use Under The United States Copyright Law, or given copyright privilege by the copyright holder which is identified beneath the individual photo.

**Some of the links will have to be copied and then posted in your search engine in order to pull up properly

Guest Blog Post by Stephanie Menendez
“What Is Flash Fiction?”

Sleeping Alone
         Kali turned over in her sleep to snuggle against her husband. She felt nothing but the pillow and jolted awake. “Oh yeah,” she said and closed her eyes. She remembered she killed him. (33 words)
--by Stephane Menendez

Flash fiction is a story told in six to 2,000 words. The term flash is simply the form’s length, and depending on who you ask, it could have different names. The above story, according to Reedsy (https://blog.reedsy.com/what-is-flash-fiction/) is referred to as a dribble, a story with a maximum of 50 words.

Though the story should have characters and a plot, the focus is on the movement. Every word has to count and that is the ultimate challenge. When writing a novel, you have pages of white space to fill, much like moving into a mansion. You have the luxury to fill every room with more than just furniture. You can display knick knacks and cherished heirlooms handed down from generations or store them in the junk room. However, if you have to pare down to live in a studio apartment, those precious knick knacks and grandma’s China you never used become stuff. You have to get rid of the stuff by putting it into storage in hopes you can use it later or by selling it. When writing flash fiction, get rid of all the stuff that blocks the flow of the story, and the end table you stubbed your toe on because it blocks your walking path.
     Flash fiction is a story. It has a hook, content and an ending. Some of the best flash fiction starts at the flashpoint (get it? Think lightening) which is the center of the conflict. Do not waste time on the introduction. The backstory is woven into the story to provide information.

In the above example (“Sleeping Alone” at the introduction), you got everything you need to know about Kali. She is a murderer who misses her husband. The story has the who, which is not as important as the reason why the character misses her husband, and finally the story tells what happened. In flash fiction, it is more important that you show rather than tell the story and avoid including too much. The reader is able to fill in the blank without the cliche’, the obvious or the boring. The ending does not have to be overly dramatic but it needs to give clarity to the previous passage and give a punch. A joke is not funny if it does not have a punchline. The ending of the story should be enigmatic. Why did Kali kill her husband? It does not matter. What matters is that the story created the question so the reader can answer.

Stephanie Menendez works as an early childhood diagnostic occupational therapist which is a fancy way of saying she assessed and evaluates children with a variety of special needs. She lives in a small city in Illinois called Fairview Heights with a population of just over 17,000 but dominated by shopping centers, plazas and a viable mall. It may not be the capital of brick and mortar box stores but it is probably a close second. Ms. Menendez has published work, Zombie Hand in Splickety Havok Magazine October 2015 edition. She is an active member in writing groups, Scribes for Praise in O’Fallon, IL and Plethora of Pens in Glen Carbon, IL.