Permission to Play

April 15, 2008 10:28

It would seem that the University of Otago simply can’t get enough of Sue Wootton. Having originally qualified as a physiotherapist, a love for poetry prompted a return to campus as Wootton gained a Bachelor of Arts in 2003. Back in the English Department as the 2008 Robert Burns Fellow, Sue Wootton is asked the hard questions on poetry by Rhys Brookbanks.

On first meeting Sue Wootton, she seems to encapsulate my romantic (but probably rather unrealistic) image of a poet. She speaks confidently, assured in her voice and world-view, yet without ego or aloofness. She often talks in metaphor and has an obvious love for the English language, yet doesn’t seem pretentious and genuinely listens to my questions and opinions. She lights up at the opportunity to express the thrills she gets from writing poetry and strongly argues for its continued importance in the world today, but remains grounded in the reality that poetry needs to be ‘sexy’ to reclaim an audience currently blinded by the enticements of modern technology. In an age fed on American sitcoms and (shudder) Paris Hilton music videos, poets like Sue Wootton are increasingly hard to find.

Judging by the number of people attending the recent launch of Wootton’s and Emma Neale’s latest anthologies, it would be easy to assume that Wootton has been on the writing scene for yonks. Certainly the mastery of a wide range of form and breadth of subject matter in her second collection, Magnetic South, suggests the talent and flair of a well-established poet. However, despite enjoying reading and writing as a kid, once Wootton began her physiotherapy degree as a teenager, she found precious few classmates who read let alone wrote poetry and her passion for writing was gradually overcome by her commitment to university.

Nonetheless, the pull of poetry proved too strong for her, and after almost twenty years working as a physiotherapist and acupuncturist, she returned to the hallowed halls of our fair university. She was mainly drawn back to Otago by the allure of the creative writing paper, ENGL217, which was then taught by American-born poet John Dolan. Wootton also yearned for the opportunity to work with people who were like-minded and valued the poem as a mode of expression and also a way of living. Graduating with a Bachelor of Arts in 2003, she was awarded a New Zealand Society of Authors mentorship in 2004. Under the tutelage of Elizabeth Smither, a lot of the poetry she wrote during this period was published in her first anthology, Hourglass.

Wootton credits her correspondence with Smither during this time as a crucial development in her growth as a writer. Having her work critiqued by an experienced and established poet forced Wootton to come to terms with having her work open to criticism. In some ways this was a hard-learnt lesson. One poem she sent away, for example, was returned with only the words, “is this poem really necessary?” scribbled in the margin. Her hard work paid off, however, and out of the mentorship Wootton not only gained a manuscript for Hourglass, but also the confidence and courage to critique and rework her own writing and to stand by the finished product. At the same time, however, Wootton learnt to take all criticism with a grain of salt. Owing to Smither’s analysis of the poem ‘Genesis’, for example, Wootton shelved the piece for a few years until deciding to submit the unchanged poem to Landfall last year, for which it was accepted. “In poetry,” she says, “it’s often a matter of ‘horses for courses.’”

When talking of poetry, Wootton emphasises her “straight into the veins” enjoyment of the art. Although the image of a heroin-addicted poet hiding in first-floor Burns oddly doesn’t seem too far-fetched, Wootton quickly clarifies her approach in terms of the unobvious appreciation and comprehension involved in reading poetry. Unlike prose, the aim of poetry is to “memorise rather than analyse,” providing an appeal above an intellectual level.

A lot of Wootton’s poetry explores the cultural and physical landscape of Dunedin. This part of the country is underrated, she says, “because it isn’t all flash and froth.” Currently, she reads a lot of Scottish poetry because of Dunedin’s similarities with Scotland. Outside of the obvious historical links, in the writing of Kathleen Jamie, Don Paterson and John Burnside, Wootton relates Dunedin to the Scottish community as they are both situated away from the centre of power (England, the North Island), and in a more rugged and isolated countryside.

The perception of authority is a constant theme in Wootton’s writing, as she is a first-generation New Zealander and has always been interested in issues of migrancy, fitting in, and “how we as a community are weaving a multicultural society.” After her parents moved here as part of the post-war exodus from England, Wootton grew up without frequent communication with her wider family. Perhaps this isolation is responsible for her belief in the “paradox of poetry,” as the writing process is intensely personal, yet the end product is all about communication. This involves not only communication with the reader but also with a tradition of writers and the world around us. In this sense, writing is important to Wootton because it gives her a sense of belonging here, having put down her roots into New Zealand’s physical, cultural and literary landscape.

Despite her having made a name for herself as a poet, the main aim of Wootton’s fellowship year is to produce a collection of short stories. Having had stories published previously, the short-story genre is not unfamiliar to her. What’s more, she finds she follows fairly similar approaches to writing poetry and prose. When struggling for inspiration for a poem, Wootton will often go for a walk or do something completely different to spark an idea. Once she has a workable first draft, the crafting and sculpting begins. Like prose, it is a sustained process; however, because of the brevity of poetry and the focus on the art of language, the process quickly moves into sculpting, whereas prose has more words to work with. The difficult part in poetry is allowing for the “communication before comprehension,” whereas prose needs to provide a narrative thread to keep the reader interested.

Regardless of the different techniques involved in polishing poetry and prose, Wootton’s stories often start similarly, with a single image or simply a title or first line. A story she has just completed evolved from the image of a blowfly circling a sweating man at a poetry reading. Understandably, this image has been haunting Wootton for two years. Once this foothold has been established, the writing begins. Unlike her normal writing process, however, the Robert Burns Fellowship allows uninterrupted focus on her writing, a “permission to play” which she is understandably over the moon about. Apart from providing the necessary space and solitude for writing, there is no outside pressure on completion or distractions to impede on writing time.

For the first half of 2008, Wootton’s chief priority is “making material.” She aims to have 500-1000 words down a day in order to have enough raw material to begin “gold-fossicking.” For Wootton, therefore, the process of writing comes down purely to perseverance and polishing, along with the necessary support mechanisms of lollies and coffee. And one other thing: “read, read, read, read.” It seems some features of student life carry on after graduation.

When asked about her opinion on the future of poetry, Wootton’s comments are both refreshing and reassuring. She argues that the poem is the perfect art form for contemporary society – “it’s short, but full of meaning.” Her commitment to this belief is evident in her recollection of a recent interview with a New Zealand Herald writer who naively posed the question “is poetry dead?” In response, Wootton exclaimed, “if you can’t have poetry, you can’t have song; and if you can’t have song you might as well lay down and die.”

It’s clear that poetry is something Sue Wootton lives and breathes for. With my head buzzing with ideas for poems, I thank Wootton for her time and wish her luck in writing while she holds the Fellowship. From our brief meeting I congratulate myself for my perceptive first impressions. It seems New Zealand poetry is in good hands.