I give grudging praise to a Sarton novel

Mrs. Stevens Hears the Mermaids Singing ***1/2
By May Sarton

Poets may not be able to translate their skills to the novel (and vice versa), and this lies at the heart of the problem with May Sarton's 1965 book.

Although "Mrs. Stevens" succeeds in shedding light on the way its fictional (and somewhat autobiographical) F. Hilary Stevens approaches her calling as a poet, the narrative ranges from verbose and vague to embarrassing in its emotional earnestness. But, then, trying to reflect a poet's sensibilities and process are difficult things to capture without grasping for words, sometimes in vain, and revealing the often intimate experiences that fed the poetry.

The novel story takes place over two days. On day one, Mrs. Stevens prepares to be interviewed by a magazine writer, noted for his ability to draw out literary types, and his female assistant. On day two, following the interview, Mrs. Stevens continues a running conversation with a neighbor boy, a college student who feels called to the poetic life having fallen in love with his college professor.

In both the interview with the magazine writer and the student, Stevens tries, in two different ways, to explain the nature of writing poetry.

In the interview, Mrs. Stevens attempts to describe how each of her poetry books was inspired by a muse, usually another woman. Each muse teaches her something new about how to look at life or how to use language to reflect life's experiences. We are to understand that Mrs. Stevens' poems seek not to dwell in the particularity of her own experiences--where so much modern poetry founders--but to transcend personal experience to speak to some universal truth.

No samples of Mrs. Stevens' poems are given anywhere in the novel. The lack of poetry frees Sarton to talk purely about the writing process, from experience to completed poem. And it challenges the reader to imagine Mrs. Stevens' poetry for himself, though I confess I could only get a very vague sense of what these poems might be like (though that might say more about me than Sarton).

The narrative is also likely to evoke some of the reader's own experiences with literature. For instance, the title suggests T.S. Eliot's mermaids "singing each to each." The phrase "a room of one's own" appears fleetingly in Mrs. Steven's discussions with the magazine writers. And certainly there is more than a little of Wordsworth in Sarton's natural imagery of sea, stones, birds, plants, her contemplation of emotions and passions recollected in tranquility.

With its long passages of conversations and dramatic reveries, "Mrs. Stevens" might have made a better drama or film--albeit a long and talky one. Setting, costume, gestures are so well drawn that you get a vivid physical sense of the action. And the presence of real people might underscore the gifts bestowed and toll taken on the poet and those around her.

In the end, despite my frustrations with Sarton's novel, my interest in exploring her life and poetry was piqued, and I look forward to reading more later this year.