Tuesday, December 15, 2020



I've yet to part with this issue of the wonderful

Lillabulero, circa 1973 and at an unbeatable price

of $2 when you consider what was coming inbetween

the covers — all devoted to Paul Metcalf — to this day

one of the sterling iconoclast's of American literature,

all his movements slide between poetry & prose, and one

isn't quite sure what this great grandson of Herman Melville

was, meant in the best of terms, like standingstill and listening

carefully and not quite pinpointing what that bird call is.

Russell Banks, yet to be famous, will begin to reveal what

will make him famous in how he handles our unidentified

birdcall in a fine rolling and tumbling interview with Paul Metcalf

between small town New Hampshire and small town Berkshire hills.

It remains one of the reasons I keep this issue of Lillabulero between the large three

volume set of Metcalf's collected works from Coffee House Press.

During the time of the interview Metcalf has written most of his major works,

age 54, and is wondering to himself what will be next.

Banks has fished from the author about as good as you can fish.

Contributors to this festschrift is about as good as it gets at this time:

McCord, Enslin, Jonathan Williams, Thomas Meyer, Corbett,

Grossinger, Sukenick.

I also keep this issue for the fine author's photo above.

[ BA ]