RIP Mary Oliver

The poet Mary Oliver died a few days ago, on January 17, 2019, at the age of 83, of lymphoma. This is a great loss, and she is being deeply mourned by her many, many readers and admirers. Actually, “admirers” is not a strong enough word for those who love Oliver’s poetry, and whose lives have been directly influenced by her poems. Some years ago, when I didn’t know Oliver’s poetry particularly well, I went to hear her read here in San Francisco. The venue was full, mostly of women, and there was something in the air that immediately indicated that the audience was thrilled to be there, almost worshipful, and that they felt a deep personal connection to her and her work. At that time, Oliver already had some problems with mobility, and had to be helped to and from the podium. But her presence and voice were strong, and from the moment she started speaking and then reading, she had the audience rapt. After this experience, I sought out Oliver’s poetry and saw why it was so popular. She writes about things that matter to her readers: how to live, how to observe, how to relate to nature, how to know what is most important, how to appreciate life. Some critics have been suspicious of her popularity (being popular seems to be automatically regarded as a defect) and have called her poetry lightweight or simplistic. They are simply wrong. (I can’t help wondering if some of the condescension shown to her work is because she is a woman, and because so many of her readers are women….) Her most famous line, in her most famous poem, “The Summer Day,” is “Tell me, what is it you plan to do/with your one wild and precious life?” This line has resonated with huge numbers of readers, and with good reason. But there are so many more poems that are also wonderful, beautifully written, aesthetically pleasing, and meaningful, even healing, to her readers. The stature and value of Oliver’s work have also been validated by her Guggenheim, her Pulitzer, and her National Book Award, among other prizes and honors. Goodbye, Mary Oliver, and thank you for your quietly stunning poems, which I am sure will be read by many, many more people for many, many more years.