Essays by patricia hampl

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Hopkins has a radical style; you can recognize a Hopkins poem anywhere. Heartbreak of various kinds—definitely. They range from the intensely interiorized and personal to the documentary and historical. Melodrama is a lie. Prague was not then in the s the tourist destination it has since become. The nuns in our little group were crabbing about having to put on the veil, because John Paul II preferred it, and we were led in and put way at the back, on the side, while groups from Africa and South America in their native dress were led to the front. For one, the sense that she was never quite at the center but always on the outside looking in—feeling, as F. I just read in an obituary, appropriately something Saul Bellow said to a woman who had lost faith in her writing and had sunk into a depression. Call them vignettes, these things we finger and drop again into their shoebox. Emotion played a powerful role in this analysis.

It became, simply, my most intimate past. Like a mathematical equation, is it something created or discovered? PH: Stuart Dybek was one, and he said some of the most interesting things.

patricia hampl spouse

But here's Hampl telling me there's an art to the wasted day, based on her own enchantment with solitude. Essais, vignettes, memoirs - the French words our stalwart form-seeking Anglophone mind must borrow to articulate our formlessness.

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How important is travel to you and to your writing? I once met a nun who had danced with him at a cotillion. Image: What is it, would you say, that fiction does well, versus what memoir does well?

Essays by patricia hampl

When I was writing Virgin Time, I went with a group of nuns and priests to Assisi, and we started out in Rome for an audience with the pope. Hampl travels often and to far-flung destinations. Yet I was often dismayed and furious with his intransigence on social issues.

Patricia hampl + the art of the wasted day (

PH: My first publishing was as a poet, but I always wanted to do everything. The radical nature of his voice coupled with his extreme devotion were fascinating to me. When I began going to Czechoslovakia as it was called then , it had been thirty years, almost to the day, since the end of the Second World War. The pleasures of memoir writing, one senses from reading her, are not the superficial, fleeting pleasures of self-indulgence. But, like, next year. It all weaves together beautifully, and all throughout she references her husband as "you," and quickly we figure out that he is no longer in the picture. The result is electric and alive. It may be the imagination, in a very real way. Image: F.

She is also a member of the permanent faculty of the Prague Summer Program.

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I Could Tell You Stories by Patricia Hampl