I’m almost done reading Paul Mariani’s marvellous biography on Robert Lowell, which I’ve been manically reading in isolated spurts throughout the past three or so weeks. I feel extremely lazy that it has taken me so long to finish reading this biography, especially since the story is so compellingly written.
Right now, I can’t help but think that the only flaw in Marini’s biography is his clear preference of Lowell’s second wife, Elizabeth Hardwick, over Caroline Guiness (his third wife). While Lowell ends up living with Elizabeth again towards the end of his life, Marini’s biography leaves me questioning the exact motivations behind Lowell’s decision to separate himself from “Lizzie” in the first place. The true testament to the strength of Mariani’s writing, however, is that he conveyed the strength of Lowell and Lizzie’s relationship so articulately that the drama of their breakup left me feeling personally affected. I think that the fallout from Lowell’s divorce, namely his decision to leave Lizzie for another woman, seemed so selfish on Lowell’s part that it might very well explain his subsequent labelling as a hyper-masculine and anti-feminist writer. My predominant question about Lowell still remains, namely how I might resolve his fluxuating acceptance and intolerance of homosexuality into a more clear position, and is augmented by his similarly vacillating stances towards most civil rights issues: race, gender, and religion (to name a few). While I would like to attribute his variegated attitudes to his mania (he was manic depressive), I am more apt to believe that, like most of his poetry, his ideas (like two feet on different planks spreading further apart as the planks move away from each other– an image he used to describe his indecision between life with Lizzie and life with Caroline) fixed themselves on his conservative upbringing and his liberal, even rebellious, adulthood. What I do not know, and cannot know except by careful research, is this conflicting acceptance of his gay friends and his regular use of gay slurs (fairy being a favorite) were typical for his time. Some of his intolerance might be a means for him to mask queer desires, since he does write about his first crush being for a boy, but I am reluctant to rely too heavily on this reading. I do not want to get too absorbed in Lowell’s personal life, instead I am particularly interested how I should read his poetry, especially where queer issues are presented. I am inclined to reread Lowell as a more tolerant and liberal figure, though still someone benefitting from and comfortable with his masculine, heterosexual privileges (he was notoriously difficult on his wives, mostly as a result of his mania). I’m curious to see where my research will take me. Now that I am done with reading Mariani’s biography, I am going to start reading some more of Lowell’s poems a bit more closely. I’ll probably augment my readings with some critical essays here and there, but I’m expecting to immerse myself in criticism once I have a better grasp of Lowell’s writing.
