Marilyn Lerch
Biography
Marilyn Lerch - Photo Courtesy of Sackville Tribune Press, 2008
Marilyn Lerch is an American-born Canadian poet, teacher and activist. Born in East Chicago, Indiana in 1936, Lerch earned degrees from Indiana University and the Institute of Transpersonal Psychology. She taught high school-level English in Indiana and Washington D.C. before moving to Sackville, New Brunswick in 1996, where she formed the Sackville Writer’s Group and Roving Poets. She has also taught creative writing at Westmoreland, Springhill and Dorchester prisons, and served as president of the Writer’s Federation of New Brunswick from 2006-2010. Four poetry collections, Lambs and Llama, Ewes & Me (2001), Moon Loves Its Light (2004), Witness and Resist (2008), and Breaking the Word Barrier: Stories of Adults Learning to Read have been published.
On this blue September day, she talks
as the tour bus descends out of Arlington Cemetary
onto the I-395 ramp
husky Latin voice breathy in the mike,
“On your left is the Pentagon, the largest office building
in the world…” and heads turn as one
toward an impossible scene,
a counterpoint of oh my god and gasps,
and she herself is momentarily stunned,
as if the images conjured in a thousand sleepless nights
have finally worked their power, stunned,
but not surprised, and having been brought,
by what concatenations, to be here, now,
a witness, how is she to seize
the perfect irony of this day?
“There are 24,000 employees, 200 acres of lawn…”
but the audience is lost,
Maria Luz, slightly giddy, continues,
“Two people are employed full time to change light bulbs.
There are 691 water fountains…”
The driver throws dark looks, hits the radio button,
slows down, knowing history when he sees it.
She begins again softly to herself,
Hace ventiocho ańos
“Exactly twenty-eight years ago
on a blue afternoon like this in Santiago,
I lay bruised and violated like thousands of others,
while somewhere in this iniquitous hive,
glasses were raised…”
Faces press against the windows, fear palpable, undefined,
the radio blares urgency…
black smoke billows and ambulances clog the lanes.
Así que, como les decía
“So as I was saying,” Maria Luz continues,
her mouth close to the mike like a Latin crooner,
A mi país le habían roto le lomo
“The back of my country was broken.
I escaped and came here, of course,
so my boys would understand, and then
when there was a little opening,
Carlos returned with a camera…”
The driver strikes the steering wheel,
“What are you doing? Shut the fuck up!”
and passengers in the front turn on her,
“Are you crazy, are you crazy?”
But Maria Luz, bemused now, deep in her story, continues,
“My son, just a baby in 1973, was recognized
and dragged from the march,
Le echaron gasolina
“They poured gasoline on him
and set him afire.”
Something like a smile,
“The Pentagon is a self-contained city…”
Ground was broken for a facility that became the Pentagon on
September 11, 1941.
Published in Witness and Resist (Morgaine House, 2008).
Used with permission of the author.
as the tour bus descends out of Arlington Cemetary
onto the I-395 ramp
husky Latin voice breathy in the mike,
“On your left is the Pentagon, the largest office building
in the world…” and heads turn as one
toward an impossible scene,
a counterpoint of oh my god and gasps,
and she herself is momentarily stunned,
as if the images conjured in a thousand sleepless nights
have finally worked their power, stunned,
but not surprised, and having been brought,
by what concatenations, to be here, now,
a witness, how is she to seize
the perfect irony of this day?
“There are 24,000 employees, 200 acres of lawn…”
but the audience is lost,
Maria Luz, slightly giddy, continues,
“Two people are employed full time to change light bulbs.
There are 691 water fountains…”
The driver throws dark looks, hits the radio button,
slows down, knowing history when he sees it.
She begins again softly to herself,
Hace ventiocho ańos
“Exactly twenty-eight years ago
on a blue afternoon like this in Santiago,
I lay bruised and violated like thousands of others,
while somewhere in this iniquitous hive,
glasses were raised…”
Faces press against the windows, fear palpable, undefined,
the radio blares urgency…
black smoke billows and ambulances clog the lanes.
Así que, como les decía
“So as I was saying,” Maria Luz continues,
her mouth close to the mike like a Latin crooner,
A mi país le habían roto le lomo
“The back of my country was broken.
I escaped and came here, of course,
so my boys would understand, and then
when there was a little opening,
Carlos returned with a camera…”
The driver strikes the steering wheel,
“What are you doing? Shut the fuck up!”
and passengers in the front turn on her,
“Are you crazy, are you crazy?”
But Maria Luz, bemused now, deep in her story, continues,
“My son, just a baby in 1973, was recognized
and dragged from the march,
Le echaron gasolina
“They poured gasoline on him
and set him afire.”
Something like a smile,
“The Pentagon is a self-contained city…”
Ground was broken for a facility that became the Pentagon on
September 11, 1941.
Published in Witness and Resist (Morgaine House, 2008).
Used with permission of the author.
Critical Analysis: The Nature of History in Marilyn Lerch's "Maria Luz Continues"
Victoria Embree (for ENGL 4416: Atlantic Canadian Women Poets)
Marilyn Lerch’s “Maria Luz Continues” constructs a historical narrative for America and Chile in order to comment on cultural differences and expectations. Lerch’s Maria Luz is conducting a bus tour of Washington that comes upon the Pentagon immediately following the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. While the passengers and the bus driver all react in horror to the sight of the wreckage, Maria reacts differently, as she is:
momentarily stunned,
as if the images conjured in a thousand sleepless nights
have finally worked their power (9-11).
Lerch's Maria Luz is fixated on this historical turn of events, enraptured by the destruction of a world power that represents so much in her world. In a situation where Luz herself has emigrated, Luz reacts in a way which disturbs the passengers, but for her own personal reasons:
"Exactly twenty-eight years ago
on a blue afternoon like this in Santiago,
I lay bruised and violated like thousands of others,
while somewhere in this iniquitous hive,
glasses were raised..." (25-29).
Here Maria refers to a coup d’état orchestrated in her homeland of Chile in 1973, during which many Chilean citizens were arrested, killed, or disappeared. One of the citizens killed was her son, who was hauled from the crowd where “they poured gasoline on him / and set him afire” (50-51). This coup was fully facilitated by the U.S. government, explaining Maria’s feeling of vindication within this poem. Lerch also uses Maria Luz's first language, Spanish, to detail the event from a new perspective and ground her speaker in her personal connection to a national history. Notably, as Luz becomes drawn into events from her past, her use of Spanish increases. Luz also distances herself from the events of September 11, 2001, instead remembering how “A mi país le habían roto le lomo /The back of [her] country was broken” (36-37) as a result of government-sanctioned destruction.
However, much like the citizens of Chile were disappeared by a coup in 1973, the event itself has been disappeared in the minds of those passengers on the bus. As such, Lerch comments on the nature of what constitutes history. As Lerch’s speaker continues her explanation, the “audience is lost” (17), and the bus driver “throws dark looks, hits the radio button, / slows down, knowing history when he sees it” (21-22). Maria herself is being silenced, treated as a nuisance for those witnessing their history while simultaneously ignoring her own. Lerch closes the poem by noting that the ground for the Pentagon was broken on September 11, 1941, as “something like a smile” (52) graces Maria’s face.
Lerch sets up an interplay of the three September 11th’s – the 2001 attack, the 1973 coup d’état, and the 1941 Pentagon ground breaking – illustrating how one’s experience of their nation’s history and present can affect their experience of another nation’s history and present. While the creation of the Pentagon in 1941 and its destruction in 2001 are landmark events in American history, for those harmed by government actions, it is the harm inflicted—in this instance, the 1973 American-orchestrated coup in Chile—that defines one’s experience of a building and a country. To those harmed, the destruction of such a prominent facet of a nation is as much a vindication as it is a tragedy.
Works Cited (for analysis):
Works Cited Lerch, Marilyn. “Maria Luz Continues” Witness and Resist. Pointe Claire, Quebec: Morgaine House, 2008. 8-9.
Marilyn Lerch’s “Maria Luz Continues” constructs a historical narrative for America and Chile in order to comment on cultural differences and expectations. Lerch’s Maria Luz is conducting a bus tour of Washington that comes upon the Pentagon immediately following the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001. While the passengers and the bus driver all react in horror to the sight of the wreckage, Maria reacts differently, as she is:
momentarily stunned,
as if the images conjured in a thousand sleepless nights
have finally worked their power (9-11).
Lerch's Maria Luz is fixated on this historical turn of events, enraptured by the destruction of a world power that represents so much in her world. In a situation where Luz herself has emigrated, Luz reacts in a way which disturbs the passengers, but for her own personal reasons:
"Exactly twenty-eight years ago
on a blue afternoon like this in Santiago,
I lay bruised and violated like thousands of others,
while somewhere in this iniquitous hive,
glasses were raised..." (25-29).
Here Maria refers to a coup d’état orchestrated in her homeland of Chile in 1973, during which many Chilean citizens were arrested, killed, or disappeared. One of the citizens killed was her son, who was hauled from the crowd where “they poured gasoline on him / and set him afire” (50-51). This coup was fully facilitated by the U.S. government, explaining Maria’s feeling of vindication within this poem. Lerch also uses Maria Luz's first language, Spanish, to detail the event from a new perspective and ground her speaker in her personal connection to a national history. Notably, as Luz becomes drawn into events from her past, her use of Spanish increases. Luz also distances herself from the events of September 11, 2001, instead remembering how “A mi país le habían roto le lomo /The back of [her] country was broken” (36-37) as a result of government-sanctioned destruction.
However, much like the citizens of Chile were disappeared by a coup in 1973, the event itself has been disappeared in the minds of those passengers on the bus. As such, Lerch comments on the nature of what constitutes history. As Lerch’s speaker continues her explanation, the “audience is lost” (17), and the bus driver “throws dark looks, hits the radio button, / slows down, knowing history when he sees it” (21-22). Maria herself is being silenced, treated as a nuisance for those witnessing their history while simultaneously ignoring her own. Lerch closes the poem by noting that the ground for the Pentagon was broken on September 11, 1941, as “something like a smile” (52) graces Maria’s face.
Lerch sets up an interplay of the three September 11th’s – the 2001 attack, the 1973 coup d’état, and the 1941 Pentagon ground breaking – illustrating how one’s experience of their nation’s history and present can affect their experience of another nation’s history and present. While the creation of the Pentagon in 1941 and its destruction in 2001 are landmark events in American history, for those harmed by government actions, it is the harm inflicted—in this instance, the 1973 American-orchestrated coup in Chile—that defines one’s experience of a building and a country. To those harmed, the destruction of such a prominent facet of a nation is as much a vindication as it is a tragedy.
Works Cited (for analysis):
Works Cited Lerch, Marilyn. “Maria Luz Continues” Witness and Resist. Pointe Claire, Quebec: Morgaine House, 2008. 8-9.
Bibliography
Lerch, Marilyn. "The Drum Is Yours." Women & Environments International Magazine. 2013 (2013).
---. "The Grand Tour at Dorje Denma Ling Near Tatamagouche."Antigonish Review 130 (2002): 35-36. WorldCat.
---. Lambs & Llamas, Ewes & Me. Bergen: The Springbank Press, 2001.
---."Love in Evolution". Fiddlehead 203 (2000): 38. CBCAComplete.
---. “Maria Luz Continues” Witness and Resist. Pointe Claire: Morgaine House, 2008. 8-9.
---. Moon Loves Its Light. Montréal: Morgaine House, 2004.
---. "Moon Loves Its Light." Cond. Lloyd Burritt. Vancouver International Song Institute, June 2011.
---."Salvador". Antigonish Review 112 (1998): 118. CBCAComplete.
---."Sandpipers". Antigonish Review 112 (1998): 117. CBCAComplete.
---."Sun Flower." Fiddlehead (2005): 84. CBCAComplete.
---. That We Have Lived At All. Woodstock: Chapel Street Editions, 2018.
---. "Triptych." Cond. Lloyd Burritt. Vancouver International Song Institute, June 2012.
---. "Two Poems." Antigonish Review 124 (2001): 106-107. WorldCat.
---. "We Move Homeward." Cond. Lloyd Burritt. Vancouver International Song Institute, June 2011.
---. "When I Knew I Would Stay." Sackville, sackville.com, 7 Jan 2019.
---.Witness and Resist. Pointe Claire: Morgaine House, 2008.
---, and Angela Ranson. Breaking the Word Barrier: Stories of Adults Learning to Read. Fredericton: Goose Lane, 2009.
---. "The Grand Tour at Dorje Denma Ling Near Tatamagouche."Antigonish Review 130 (2002): 35-36. WorldCat.
---. Lambs & Llamas, Ewes & Me. Bergen: The Springbank Press, 2001.
---."Love in Evolution". Fiddlehead 203 (2000): 38. CBCAComplete.
---. “Maria Luz Continues” Witness and Resist. Pointe Claire: Morgaine House, 2008. 8-9.
---. Moon Loves Its Light. Montréal: Morgaine House, 2004.
---. "Moon Loves Its Light." Cond. Lloyd Burritt. Vancouver International Song Institute, June 2011.
---."Salvador". Antigonish Review 112 (1998): 118. CBCAComplete.
---."Sandpipers". Antigonish Review 112 (1998): 117. CBCAComplete.
---."Sun Flower." Fiddlehead (2005): 84. CBCAComplete.
---. That We Have Lived At All. Woodstock: Chapel Street Editions, 2018.
---. "Triptych." Cond. Lloyd Burritt. Vancouver International Song Institute, June 2012.
---. "Two Poems." Antigonish Review 124 (2001): 106-107. WorldCat.
---. "We Move Homeward." Cond. Lloyd Burritt. Vancouver International Song Institute, June 2011.
---. "When I Knew I Would Stay." Sackville, sackville.com, 7 Jan 2019.
---.Witness and Resist. Pointe Claire: Morgaine House, 2008.
---, and Angela Ranson. Breaking the Word Barrier: Stories of Adults Learning to Read. Fredericton: Goose Lane, 2009.
