After the famous author Henry Miller visited Weeks Hall, master of The
Shadows-on-the-Teche, he wrote that he had just been to
“that strange part of the world called New Iberia, Louisiana.” When I first
moved there in 1964, I agreed with him. Rain fell throughout the month of
January, and my first glimpse of Bayou Teche, a murky brown tributary, made me
shudder. I thought I had arrived in a place where dark stained, well-soaked
ground was the norm. I felt this way until spring came to Teche country, and I
fell in love with a place that I now call “unique,” rather than Miller’s word “strange.”
During the lush spring, I learned to enjoy and appreciate
the people of multicultural origins who had settled in the Teche country and
formed a culture that fosters art, music, and writing. New Iberia is the place
that nurtured world-famed author, James Lee Burke; the Blue Dog artist, George
Rodrigue; the jazz trumpeter, Bunk Johnson; and many other notable artists who
thrive in a warm, romantic culture.
In that multicultural atmosphere, I began to seriously write
and continue to write poetry, living in New Iberia part of the year and
deriving from the culture enough subject matter to fill more than thirty books.
During my sojourn in New Iberia, I’m sometimes asked to speak to students interested
in Creative Writing and to engage in two or three hour conversations with the
aspiring authors in a room at the New Iberia Library where cultural events take
place.
Five years ago, I was happy to discover that Susan Edmonds, who
brought many outstanding programs to the library, had written and been awarded
a grant to initiate a memoir writing class, aka the “life writing class.” By
the following year, the University of Louisiana at Lafayette had formed a
similar class, and the two classes have been functioning since that time under
the tutelage of Kim B. Graham of St. Martinville, Louisiana. Some of the
students produce an essay or short story each week; others write poems or
songs.
All of the writing material is inspired by their personal lives and backgrounds. As Kim Graham says, “Memoirs are written not so much to become famous, but to place value on a moment in time. This genre of writing is about how one remembers one’s life, or a part of one’s life, and not about the outcome of the life as a whole…we hear the writer’s voice and his or her style in each story…”
This year, Kim engaged my friend Victoria Sullivan to
publish the stories written by classes in New Iberia and Lafayette, and Let Me Tell You A Story emerged this
month. It’s a book written by teachers, doctors, cowboys, housewives – people who
like to tell stories about family and about that unique part of the world known
as Acadiana.
The book also contains photographs and drawings that capture
the moment in time about which Kim spoke. Stories range from those that have
been inspired by ancestry to humorous vignettes. At the risk of being chided
for not including all of the writers in a review, I just wanted to share with
readers of “A Wordsworth,” a bit of humor from Glenn Oubre’s essay entitled “Nicknames
in My Home Town.” Glenn grew up in the small community of Loreauville, just
down the road from New Iberia, and writes that Loreauville once had more
nicknames for people than any small town in the U.S. “Generally, the names were
terms of endearment that made people feel good about themselves,” Glenn says.
“However, some names were mean and cruel and intended to ridicule. The names
stuck like glue and stayed for a lifetime.”
The nicknames included important
people like former Mayor Forbus Mestayer who was known as “Bagasse,’ which
denotes sugar cane residue. This strange moniker was delivered in Cajun dialect. But most
nicknames were more pronounceable – “Mutchie,” “Te-boy,” “Butsy,” “Too Too,” “Full
Choke,” and “Hesitation,” to name a few. Glenn even went so far as to prepare
an alphabetical table featuring many of the names and to compose a poem (he is also a musician)
of eleven quatrains; e.g., "There was Sue Sue, Cho Cho, and Goo Goo,/names that
all sound the same./And Me Me, Ge Ge, and De De/they were their claim to fame…My
neighbors in the country/were Poon, Too Loo, and Toe Joe./Next door were
neighbors Te-Bic, and Ze Ze./Down the road lived Noo-noon and Low Low…” “Pooyie,
so much fun,” Glenn concluded his essay. And Pooyie, I agree!
Let Me Tell You A
Story will soon be available on www.createspace.com/3847239
and at Books Along the Teche bookstore in New Iberia, Louisiana. You're in for
a reading treat when you sample these stories composed by authentic southern
voices.
A subsequent blog will highlight the Lafayette Life Writing
Class’s publication, Wit, Wisdom, and
Mostly True Stories.
2 comments:
What astonishes me even more than unusual nicknames is the lack of consideration of how such names fit with people's last names—often with hilarious results.
This is a really exciting project!
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