Reading one poem by an author or a sampling of their work in a larger anthology is like looking at one photo from an album. The tone and texture can be guessed at, but themes are unidentifiable and isolated, and stylistically the picture is on an island. Reading an entire collection by an author however, is like leafing through a roll of film. The viewer is able to get a sense of the overall connection between the photographs and a more comprehensive view of what the photographer is trying to communicate. Star Dust, by Frank Bidart, is a collection made up of two distinct parts that are stitched together by theme and style. While the poems are significant and insightful on their own in becoming part of this whole they gain new dimensions.
There are poems in both the first section and second section that make specific references to years and eras and while many locations are unspecified, as a general rule time goes backwards. The collection opens with For the Twentieth Century, a poem that offers commentary on the culture of the 1900’s as a whole and ends with The Third Hour of the Night, a piece that contains an abundance of references to Greek mythology and the Renaissance. While there is some overlap in dates between section one and section two, when skimming through the book, there is a sense of reaching farther and farther back into history as the poem Hadrian’s Deathbed is about a Roman Emperor and The Third Hour of the Night come in the second half. Though the poems are arranged in rough chronology, Bidart uses time not as an organizational mechanism, but as a way to illustrate the way in which the theme permeates human nature. He starts by illustrating a modern day phenomena to make an outline that he then colors in and stretches by expanding the setting.
Many philosophers look to identify the difference between animals and humans, and add whatever they conclude to their definition of what it is to be human. Bidart does this in the last poem of Part I, Lament for the Makers saying “Many creatures must/make, but only one must seek/ within itself what to make.” (22) In this tercet, Bidart concretely articulates a concept that emerges time and time again throughout his collection, making it evident that the main theme is that the undeniable need to make is an intrinsic part of human nature. Bidart goes on to explore the effects of denying this need. This is where the echoes of hunger and dissatisfaction come in. Bidart criticizes modern day society saying “That where he makes what he makes, he is/ not: That when he makes, he is not”(6) and “That estranged from the labor the laborer is/ self-estranged, alien to himself.” (6) An artist is defined by his art, a musician by his music, an architect by his buildings, and parent by what they make for their children so then what happens when these makers are ignored or unaccepted? In Phenomenology of the Prick, Curse, and The Soldier Who Guards the Frontier, Bidart provides a picture of what it is like to be unsatisfied, to not be able to make strides, make love, make right. Part II of the three part poem that concludes the collection explores thoroughly the life of a goldsmith and artist who is worth nothing but what he makes as evident when the King gives permission to “Kill him, if you can find me/ his equal in art”(57). In this he adds a new dimension to his argument, questioning what one is if one can do nothing but make. Bidart explores the concept of creating buildings, art, history, and life as well as the hunger and dissatisfaction that results from denying or acting against this essential part of human nature.
Star Dust is the poem from which the title of the collection calls, and is a microcosmic sample of the way in which Bidart uses words to communicate his point and interest the reader. The idea of star dust is one that is loosely associated with magic and more or less intangible. Starting with the first poem and reading through the collection, one may be surprised to find the language, though whimsical, to be grounded in concrete details and concepts; a portrayal of a reality versus an abstract fantastical creation. This is also true in the poem Star Dust where abstract principles are kept at a minimum. Bidart uses beautiful language to portray a concrete scene made vivid and almost magical by the word choice and rhythm. Bidart uses gentle enjambment not only between lines, but also between stanzas. Take, for example the first five stanzas of Star Dust:
Above the dazzling city lies starless
night. Ruthless, you are pleased the price of one
is the other. That night
dense with date palms, crazy with the breath-
less aromas of fresh-cut earth,
black sky thronging with light so thick the fixed
unbruised stars bewildered
sight, I wanted you dazzled, wanted you drunk.
The enjambment between each line flows seamlessly and leaves the reader jumping down to the next line in order to discover what specifically is being spoken of. The single lines serve to build anticipation and create small tensions. There are also small links between sounds that are sprinkled throughout like “starless” “ruthless” and “breath-less”. The repetition of this sound combined with words like “thronging” and “bewildered” makes it so that by the time the reader reaches the line “I wanted you dazzled, wanted you drunk,” the language has achieved that goal. The end stop on this line gives the reader a moment absorb the first five stanzas and take a breath before moving into the second half of the poem which progresses much in the same way. Within individual poems as well as throughout the collection, Bidart uses the same word over in different scenarios to draw comparisons and contrasts. That is seen here with different forms of “dazzle”. The reader is presented with a “dazzling city” which is ironically the cause of the “starless night,” something that traditionally provides dazzle. Because it is first presented as an adjective, it becomes all the more powerful when it is used as a verb and draws a connection between the characters in the poem and the city they lie next to. The interrelatedness becomes more and more evident as the poem progresses and becomes strikingly clear in the last three lines where the observation is made that “We/ are darkness. We are the city/ whose brightness blots the stars from the night.” (36) The italics used in these lines and throughout the rest of the book draw the reader’s attention to specific lines and place an extra emphasis on ideas that Bidart considers to be especially significant.
While the poems deal with a variety of subjects the boundaries occasionally blur together. Stylistically the similarities in the line breaks, language, open space, and italics allow for easy transitions and almost create a sense of enjambment between poems. In some ways the flow of the writing causes the reader to miss intricate details in an individual poem because of an overwhelming input of tactile, gustatory, olfactory, auditory, organic and visual imagery. This does not however, take away from the meaning of a poem, but adds to it by forcing the reader to link all the things they are reading together. Bidart also has an aptitude for mixing the simplistic and the sophisticated in a way that creates a vibrant relatable atmosphere. His elaborate and vivid images are divided into digestible chunks by the line breaks and large words and unknown allusions are effectively balanced with relatable imagery.
The first section is titled Music Like Dirt, and the words and ideas of music are repeated throughout the entirety of the collection most explicitly through titles like Little Fugue, and Song, though there are also an abundance of references to music in the poems themselves. This collection is cohesive much in the way a song is. The chorus is the theme, which repeats throughout many different verses that while different, are all related to each other through theme and the consistency of Bidart’s writing style. The individual poems in Star Dust are like the stars is Star Dust and the collection as a whole forms a dazzling city.
