Saturday, February 04, 2012

Karen Battell; narrative not myth

Jotting down various memories of Karen Battell Silva, who passed away far too young this week. As they accumulated they began taking on a "what a fool believes" quality. Which is all wrong. I don't overestimate my impact on a teenage girl in the 1960's who lived an entire life since then, or her influence on me. She leaves a husband, a son, her mom, six siblings at least a dozen nieces & nephews. My condolences to them. But as a writer  I'm always trying to draw a narrative out of the episodic, was already doing that when I was 18 years-old. I'm the son of a fine  "amateur" historian & storyteller. There are a number of anecdotes  about Karen & her family I've told  all along.  I repeated one to my stepbrother earlier this week, before I heard about Karen  -  he knew her as  my girlfriend & met his future wife shortly after I met Karen -   about a particular summer night on the crowded  Seaside Heights boardwalk.  Karen & I were strolling the Seaside Boardwalk on a balmy summer evening just digging the scene. Karen probably wearing some light summery dress - she was very much a dress kind of girl in those days. Over leaning against the boardwalk railing were my stepbrother & his girlfriend, a tall attractive blonde, both in leather jackets.  At the timehe  had a beard & a bike & looked a bit like an outlaw Abe Lincoln. We sropped & chatted for a few minutes, the most natural thing in the world to meet in that place at that time.

 I 've told a few stories on the radio. None of them are negative.  I  began writing some of them down only after I started this blog,   I allude to Karen in a very general way  in just one of my poems  I can think of. Most of my poems are located in their moment of creation, recent past, or mythic time.  She was long gone when I began writing publishable poems. She has her place back there, mainly in mythic time,  but she is so distinctive a personality,  attractive,  sensual,  intelligent,  even as a high school student, so memorable - & I've been with several remarkable women since then in longer, more serious relationships. I imagine  Karen would  appreciate being so memorable. She wanted her presence & personality felt. She was very good at  letting me have the spotlight, but when it was her turn, I got out of the way. Maybe I learned that from her, when to get out of the way.  She also had small tolerance for crass or vulgar people, & that taught me something important, too.

 Karen was not only the first woman (at 16), but the first person to give an unqualified  "yes" to my creative aspirations, which at that time were vague & largely undefined & searching for outlets, but very strong.  For Karen it was part of who I was, just as dancing was who she was, & something she liked in me, & no further discussion was necessary.

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