Last night the ceremony for the National Book Awards took place, and the winners have been announced. Nathaniel Mackey wins in poetry for Splay Anthem (New Directions). Timothy Egan wins in non-fiction for The Worst Hard Time (Houghton Mifflin). And, Richard Powers wins in fiction for The Echo Maker (FSG).
Louise Gluck, a finalist for this year’s Nation Book Award with her recent (and glorious) Averno (FSG), once said that not only was the award system quite skewed but that one couldn’t speak without being dismissed (sour grapes) until one had received some major award. She’s won enough to speak freely on the subject and also to remind herself and others of those who should have but never do win awards: where, for example, she once asked, is Allen Ginsberg’s Pulitzer prize?
Well, neither Pulitzer nor National Book Award have I (nor do I expect one), but I just got a call and found I’ve won a creative writing fellowship in poetry from the National Endowment for the Arts. While NEA grants for many other kinds of artists have been cut, thank goodness writers are still on the list. Rest assured, oh ye federal government, I won’t be spending the money on cars or modern art, as some have tried to do. Nor will I spend the money lobbying against, well, anyone (this is one of the official rules, it turns out). No doubt poets, having so much commercial appeal and profit at their disposal, can spare $20,000 easily and would be inclined to lobby.
In any case, it’s off to a cabin in the woods (or on a beach in Spain) for some serious writing. Wherever I am, I’ll be toasting to the idea that nations have a vested interest in providing public support for the arts. And, while certainly grateful, I’ll also be hopeful and toast to some distant, imagined future in which the United States might someday decide to fund the arts–all of them–publicly (not leaving them to the whims of the market and corporate or personal philanthropy) and in a manner more comparable to other nations. But, that’s just me.