By Carla Walker, Director of Communications
Editor, Oklahoma Humanities Magazine
In a ceremony at the Oklahoma History Center on July 12, Governor Brad Henry appointed N. Scott Momaday as the Oklahoma Centennial State Poet Laureate. Selection of the State Poet Laureate is facilitated by the Oklahoma Humanities Council.
“Scott Momaday has partly attributed his success to his perseverance,” said Governor Henry, “but the truth is that a talent and voice as singular as his arises from something beyond perseverance. It is nothing short of a gift, a rare and wonderful gift.”
It is fitting that the title of Poet Laureate is added to Momaday’s many accomplishments; as you will see in the following conversation, he holds poetry above all literary forms, even though his work spans several genres: poetry, novels, plays, folk tales, memoirs, and essays. He views the wide and varied forms of his artistry as a personal expression of his Native American roots. His acceptance remarks at the appointment ceremony reflect his belief that he is carrying the torch of oral tradition.
“Storytelling, song, and reciting poetry out loud are all part of an oral tradition that has deep roots among Oklahoma’s Native Americans, and indeed among all Oklahomans,” Momaday stated. “I look forward to sharing my love of this tradition, and my dedication to poetry, with the people of Oklahoma in this Centennial year.”
Momaday is a member of the Kiowa Tribe of Oklahoma. His passion for words was encouraged by artistic parents. His mother was a writer by profession; his father, a painter. Momaday was born in Lawton, Oklahoma, and had wide, Native American experiences. His family moved from a Navajo reservation to two Apache reservations, then to the Jemez Pueblo. Momaday’s views were shaped by these early experiences. The theme of man in relation to landscape runs through much of his work. He is currently a member of the Kiowa Gourd Clan, an organization that perpetuates the traditions, ceremonial dances, and history of the Kiowa tribe.
Momaday holds a Ph.D. in English and American literature from Stanford University. He taught at the University of California at Santa Barbara, University of California at Berkeley, Stanford University, and the University of Arizona. He was a visiting professor at Columbia University and Princeton University, and was the first professor to teach American literature at the University of Moscow in Russia. Currently, he is a Senior Scholar at the School for Advanced Research in Santa Fe.
Momaday’s literary works include The Way to Rainy Mountain; Angle of Geese; The Names: A Memoir; The Ancient Child; and In the Presence of the Sun. His first novel, House Made of Dawn, won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1969. Momaday’s artistry extends beyond the written word; he is an accomplished painter and printmaker, and has exhibited his work across the country. He is the founder and chairman of The Buffalo Trust, a nonprofit foundation supporting the efforts of indigenous communities to preserve and perpetuate their cultural identity. His most recent book, Three Plays, was published in 2007 by the University of Oklahoma Press.
Momaday’s rigorous travel schedule prevented a traditional interview, but he graciously made time to visit with us via email.
Carla Walker: First, I want to ask about your recent appointment by Governor Brad Henry as our Oklahoma Centennial State Poet Laureate. What does that honor mean for you, being appointed in the state of Oklahoma and at this auspicious time in our history?
Scott Momaday: I am very pleased to have been appointed Poet Laureate of Oklahoma, especially in the Centennial year. And I am proud to have been appointed by Governor Brad Henry, for whom I have great affection, respect, and admiration.
CW: What would you like to accomplish during your tenure as Poet Laureate?
SM: I would like to share my love of poetry with the people of Oklahoma. Poetry is an ancient and wonderful dimension of language. It ought to be better known and more available to everyone.
CW: You have taken a particular interest in Poetry Out Loud, which encourages high school students to learn more about poetry through memorization and performance. What do you think young people can gain by the study of poetry, in general, and by participation in the Poetry Out Loud program?
SM: The Poetry Out Loud program is well designed to develop a real interest in poetry on the part of young people in particular. High school students, for example, can gain a lifelong appreciation of poetry by hearing it read or recited by poets and actors.
CW: What authors or styles of writing influenced you?
SM: I have read a great many poets, and I’m sure the reading has influenced my own writing in certain ways. Emily Dickinson and Wallace Stevens are among the American poets I most admire.
CW: In The Man Made of Words, you recount a Kiowa story about an arrowmaker. At the close of that story you state, “For the storyteller, for the arrowmaker, language does indeed represent the only chance for survival.” Does the same hold true for you, indeed for all mankind, that language is necessary for our survival?
SM: I believe that language is what separates the human being from all other species. It is what makes us human. I am speaking of the language system that humans have devised. It is a very complex system—one of nearly infinite possibility. I cannot imagine that we can survive as humans without it.
CW: In your writing, you have lamented the loss of the American land ethic. You speak of it as “an act of imagination,” as an ethical principle to live by. In the last ten years, we have witnessed enormous world attention to global warming and the effect we have on our planet. I sense that your call for Americans to connect with the land as an ethical ideal runs deeper than the need to maintain natural resources. Tell us more about your notion of an American land ethic.
SM: I believe that we must have a moral understanding of, and regard for, the earth. We must realize that the earth is a vital and spiritual entity. Moreover, it is indivisible with Mankind. We are the land. We cannot do harm to it without doing harm to ourselves.
CW: You are a world traveler and often refer to sacred places. Would you mind telling us where a few of those sacred places are for you and what they mean to you personally?
SM: Sacred places are everywhere. For me, Rainy Mountain in Oklahoma and Tsoai (aka Devils Tower) in Wyoming are places of intense spiritual power. To be at these places is to be in the immediate presence of my ancestors. It is a kind of communion, mystical and profound.
CW: There is an image that recurs in your writing: an angle of geese. We find it in poems like “The Delight Song of Tsoai-talee” and the title poem of Angle of Geese, in the opening of House Made of Dawn, in your essay “Riding is an Exercise of the Mind.” For me, that image embodies the character of your writing—words that aren’t just carefully chosen, they are precise. Tell us about the significance that image holds for you.
SM: The image, perhaps best evoked in my poem “Angle of Geese,” seems to me a pure reflection of nature, a signature of its symmetry and design. The world is beautiful even in its tentative aspects. The image is proof of it.
CW: Your book, In the Presence of the Sun, contains a section on the Plains warrior shield. Of the relationship between a warrior and his shield, you write, “It is his personal flag, the realization of his vision and his name, the object of his holiest quest, the tangible expression of his deepest being. In bearing his shield he says, ‘My shield stands for me, and I stand for my shield.’” Your artistic expression has taken so many forms: poetry, novels, playwriting, essays, drawings, paintings. Is there one particular part of your work that you would figuratively or literally hold up as your shield?
SM: All the manifestations of my creativity constitute my shield.
CW: In the preface to your new book, Three Plays, you state, “I believe that poetry is the highest expression of language.” In an online interview with the American Academy of Achievement in 2001, you made the following statement: “Poetry is the crown of literature. I think it’s the highest of the literary arts. To write a great poem is to do as much as you can do in literature.” You went on to say, “What better thing could you be than a poet?” Is poetry still the literary art form that enthralls you most?
SM: Yes. I am a poet above all, and a poet is what I want most to be–and for the reasons that you quote in your question. I can’t think of a higher aspiration.
CW: You have described storytelling as a reflection of the forces that govern our lives. What would you say are the forces that have governed your life?
SM: I suppose that I am determined to a large extent by my genetic makeup. My parents were exceptionally creative, my father a painter and my mother a writer. Words and images have been the great forces in my life.
CW: In the preface to In the Presence of the Sun you refer to yourself as “a patient student.” What subject are you patiently pursuing at this time in your life?
SM: I am in pursuit of the endless possibilities of language. I could mention other pursuits, but this one is my greatest compulsion, and it requires a great deal of patience.