camels in Honfleur

I went to the library and checked out three slim novels by French writers. Why is it that French writing seems so appealing? There is no way a poem set in “Stamford” could appeal the way Michaux’s prose poem about “Honfleur” appeals, is there?

I’m interested in this. I want to write poems about the US that exude a romantic exoticism, that evoke a mythology that doesn’t exist. Or it’s degraded by commerce and media. Isn’t that true about every place though, and every time? I think it’s just another excuse for failure of poetic imagination.

Or does it have something to do with tradition? The towns of Europe are steeped in it, and proud. Go far enough back here in the US and what do you find, massacre of natives and the ravages of imperialism. I don’t think we in the New World realize the overwhelming deep effect of that transaction, what we lost and what we gained.

Just a brief sample of the Michaux:

I was then at Honfleur and was getting bored. So I resolutely brought in some camels there. That didn’t seem to be called for. Never mind. It was my idea. Besides, I put it into execution with the greatest prudence. …

A pity that I had to go away, but I doubt very much that calm will immediately reappear in that little city of shrimp and mussel fishers.

–Henri Michaux, tr. Richard Ellmann

Note to self: Look into Cabeza de Vaca and Haniel Long (via Dale Smith, Skanky Possum)