In high school, my English teachers told us to analyze poetry with the TPCASTT method. What do all those letters mean? I have no idea, but I remember the acronym and I remember when I saw that on the chalkboard, it was time for the dreaded poetry week and the dreaded method that dissected all the fun of what I thought poetry could be. What a way to turn a gal off from poetry, and I’m sure many people can empathize, right? Well, Richard Tillinghast gets where I’m coming from, and he’s a real-deal poet (and yes, he knows it).
“It seems like when you’re taught poetry in school, somebody is always kind of trying to drum it into your head: What does this mean?” Tillinghast says. “As I’m concerned, poetry isn’t particularly asking to be understood as much as it is asking to be loved. … Maybe one of the main things that I’m trying to do in my poetry is to communicate pleasure.”
Tillinghast’s latest collection of poems Blue If Only I Could Tell You does, admittedly, touch on the darkly complex history of America, particularly the American South, but the poet says, “Writing or singing about something that’s really painful, it really does have a cathartic effect. … I write about a lot of dark subjects, but I don’t consider my points downers. Kind of talking, writing about stuff like that, and experiencing it through the art of poetry, you feel better once you’ve done it.”
For this book, the poet has distinguished his topics by grouping poems into sections. One section, for instance, is about the Indigenous plight through the effects of colonialism; another is about the systemic racism in the South. Set in Memphis, where he grew up, the poems in this section are mostly autobiographical.
The poem, “Cake,” is dedicated to Ollie, whom his family hired for housekeeping when Tillinghast was younger. “She kind of raised us,” he says of Ollie, whose last name he doesn’t remember though he remembers her fondness for country music and the cakes she would bake for his birthday. In the poem he writes, “There’s no going back in time/but I wish I could go back./I’d like to get inside/the mind of this woman/who was paid to look after me.”
In all, Tillinghast uses poetry to grapple with his privilege stemming from the America’s violent past, while also acknowledging his love for the South’s culture and his upbringing in Memphis. “I feel so lucky to have grown up in the place that I did,” he says. Now, after living all over the world from Ireland to Michigan, Tillinghast splits his time between living in Sewanee and Hawaii. “I love going to Memphis. It’s a big highlight for me whenever I’m able to go back to Memphis.”
This Thursday, the poet will return to Memphis to discuss and sign his book at Burke’s Book Store.
Reading with Richard Tillinghast, Burke’s Book Store, Thursday, February 23rd, 5:30-6:30 p.m.
