Word: patchen
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Agents for the big tour are New Directions, which, scant days ago, saw fit to publish Kenneth Patchen in the New Classics series (along with Conrad, Kafka, West and Stein), and Cadence Records, which celebrates this signal event with the release of an LP of Patchen reading his stuff to the Chamber Jazz Sextet, jouant. Despite the fact that much of the poetry in the book is lousy, the effect of the two-part package is invigorating...
...Patchen is a big boy now, 47 years old, and one's initial reaction is to remark that the fellow still hasn't grown up. His work is formless, often maudlin, sometimes downright silly. Yet amongst his poems (and he is, or has been, a very prolific writer) are flashes of humor and even insight that make leafing through this newest volume a not wholly unrewarding hour...
...wholly unrewarding hour' is what you guys would say," Patchen would observe, and probably rightly. He doesn't have much use for academic pedantry, probably rightly, and Chino criticism from undergraduates is strictly small noise in the presence of his immense thunder...
Mumbo, Jumbo & Bumbo. Other local poets-Lawrence Ferlinghetti (Junk Man's Obligate) and Kenneth Patchen (Hurrah for Anything), et al.-have moved into the jazz clubs. "All these Kenneths," comments Kenneth Rexroth, "sound a little like Mumbo, Jumbo and Bumbo, each the biggest elephant in the world...
Cummings and his tall, black-haired wife (whom Photographer Edward Steichen once called "the most beautiful model in New York") spend their winters in Patchen Place, a tree-lined Greenwich Village alley, and their summers at Silver Lake, N.H., where most of the poet's paintings are conceived. At 54 he is a wry, wiry Yankee with the gentle discursiveness and cracker-barrel wit of a farmer taking his ease at the store. Writing about his own mild, middle-of-the-road paintings in the current Art News, Cummings sideswiped most of his fellow artists, abstractionists and realists alike...