July 25, 2024
By Lynnell Edwards, poetry faculty, associate programs director
As I draft this essay about the value and rewards of being a good literary citizen, I am also making mental notes for my evening as guest host for the July edition of the Voice & Vision reading series here in Louisville. Now in its eleventh season, the series is co-sponsored by the Naslund-Mann Graduate School of Writing, the literary journal The Louisville Review, and 21c Museum Hotel in downtown Louisville, where it takes place one night a month, May through August. I love being a host, I admit. I like the energy of running the show from the stage. I like bringing people together to hear writers read from their work in a beautiful space full of visual art that complements the dynamic literary art; I like the opportunities for conversation about writing, the writing life, and the reading we’ve all just experienced collectively, which—like any live performance—is a singular event that can’t be precisely duplicated. At the end of the evening I feel energized, even transformed.
This is the power of art, and it is a power unique to art.
Lewis Hyde’s paradigm-rocking book The Gift: Creativity and the Artist in the Modern World makes this case and also argues that art of all types attains value as part a “gift economy” that functions outside of (and in spite of) the market economy, which assigns value according to laws of supply and demand. Hyde points out, “When art acts as an agent of transformation we may correctly speak of it as a gift.” The value of a work of art, unlike, say, a new car, thus comes from its particular and singular work of transformation within the community in which it was created and to which it is given.
While Hyde’s discussion focuses on the gift exchange and alchemy between artist and audience, there is a third, often silent, force within the community that midwifes the birth of this gift exchange. That is the work of the literary citizen who, with no thought for market reward, makes possible the celebration and reception of the art.
At the Naslund-Mann School’s recent virtual summer residency, I assembled a panel of faculty who discussed their own projects as literary citizens and reflected on the value these projects brought to the communities they served as well as to their own work as writers. Lesléa Newman, Charlie Schulman, and Kenny Cook each were passionate about projects that they had participated in over their long careers and shared with us a delightfully diverse array of both short-term and long-term projects.
During her term as poet laureate of her home community, Northampton, Massachusetts, Lesléa developed small and large events—some that continue still, such as an annual poetry contest. Others, such as reading poetry with middle-schoolers or writing a biweekly poetry column for the newspaper, created pockets of celebration over the duration of her service.
After having his own work produced at the age of seventeen, Charlie stayed involved with the sponsoring organization, Young Playwrights, a program founded by Stephen Sondheim that was at the time the only professional theater in the United States devoted solely to writers aged eighteen and younger.
And Kenny walked us through his engagement with EcoTheatre Lab at Iowa State University, an organization dedicated to producing “readings, theatre actions, plays, performances, and workshops that engage audiences in conversations about environmental and social justice.”
Each panelist recognized the practical value of the connections they made by supporting these organizations, with sometimes tangible benefits to their careers. And they recommended that writers at the beginning of their careers should certainly be open to and take advantage of the networking and mentoring opportunities that emerge. But more, their passion for widening the community, for making space for artists and audiences to celebrate literature, clearly spoke to a long-running commitment to the gift economy and the undeniable ways in which art makes the world a better place.
Other members of the virtual audience shared their relationships with organizations as diverse as The Collegeville Institute, which alum Melanie Weldon-Soiset explained “hosts amazing and generous residencies for people who write on faith and culture”; The Timberline Review, begun by alum Peter Field in his hometown of Portland, Oregon; playwright development with Scriptworks, where new alum Ty Hoppe lives in Austin, Texas; and The Writers Lab for women screenwriters over 40, from new student Irene Turner. Alum Ann Schwarz pointed out that national organization such as SCBWI (Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators) have regional chapters, such as the Midsouth serving Kentucky and Tennessee, that welcome involvement. From this vigorous conversation it was obvious there is something out there for every talent and any amount of time.
As diverse as these organizations and projects are, the thing that they have in common is their reliance on partnerships between artists and the community. In the case of Voice & Vision, each partner brings something foundational to the event: space, talent, expertise, administration. Likewise, none of this work happens without the goodwill and good faith of literary citizens volunteering, “gifting,” their time and talents.
As I send this brief meditation to the Good River Review staff for editing and formatting (and thank you for this gift!), my anticipation of the evening hosting Voice & Vision is growing. I imagine my introduction of each writer, the diverse delights we’ll hear in each of the five brief readings, and the likely audience—almost always a combination of regulars from Louisville’s literary and university communities, friends and families of the presenting writers, and often completely unexpected attendees like the random hotel guest wondering what’s happening in the gallery that night, or a young couple new to the city and eager to check the arts scene here. All have entrusted us with their precious time. All of us gathered in the gallery at 21c for a scant hour and half, working in community, waiting to be transformed.
Lynnell Edwards is poetry faculty and Associate Programs Director for the Naslund-Mann Graduate School of Writing at Spalding University. Her sixth and most recent collection of poetry, The Bearable Slant of Light (Red Hen Press, 2024) documents one family’s journey with mental illness in a loved one as well as the challenges of our anxious world. More about her at lynnelledwards.com.
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