I left my headache over 107 Williams St. behind and walked downtown to hear the internationally celebrated writer and poet Ocean Vuong reading at First Churches a few weeks ago. There was already a line stretching around the corner when I arrived at 6 p.m., just as doors were about to open for the 7 p.m. event. But, it’s a big space and so, vaccine card checked, and masked I easily found an aisle seat only a few pews from the front. Eventually some 400 people filled the church.
It isn’t easy to write — to summon the right words — about someone so treasured and respected for his words. How treasured? During the brief Q & A, a man said he’d driven seven hours from Maine to hear Ocean. He didn’t have a question. He wanted to thank him, saying his book, “On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous,” changed his life.
Writer/poet Tiana Clark introduced Vuong, who spoke with quiet energy and a bright lightness. He was glad to be there and grateful for the gracious introductions. He said he’d been away, traveling to promote his new book of poems. And then looking out at us he confessed he’d been homesick for the first time in his life. He’d never missed a place — a home — he said, because the construct of home and place are difficult for him. Maybe difficult for all immigrants, even those who, like him, leave their birth-country as children and spend the majority of their lives in another place.
I could see him smiling as he talked about the things he’d missed, the things that make Northampton home. There’s just something about the place, he said. He’d felt welcomed from the beginning, at ease in the community and supported by it, which enabled him and his partner Peter to settle in here. And the bookstores, he said. People don’t believe me when I tell them how many bookstores we have in this town, he laughed, thanking Broadside Books especially for organizing the event.
Vuong’s reading was followed by conversation and questions moderated by Clark. Was there a shift of tone in his newer work, she wondered. Was there more joy and humor?
Vuong responded to the question by talking about the value of beauty. Maybe he was at a point in his life and in his writing — both more mature — where he was more aware of and more open to beauty. Beauty, he said, translates to joy. Then, looking at the flowers that adorned the steps around the pulpit, he thanked whomever brought them.
Beauty, he said, is too often undervalued; too often it’s an afterthought, an add-on, or an “extra,” as opposed to a “necessary,” a primary concern. Why is that, he mused? Why is it, he wondered for instance, that beauty seemed to be of no consideration when providing/building housing for a certain class of people.
My mind was racing when Vuong alked about Northampton, about missing home, about place — a place to call home. Now, I was sitting on the edge of my seat as he talked about the importance of beauty, how essential it was to life and how it added joy. These are the very headache topics I’d been struggling with just a few hours ago.
How to convince the powers-that-be to value place — this place — and protect beauty throughout the city. What could one say, what could be written to save a small vernacular house, trees and gardens at 107 Williams St. The question on my mind, and on the minds of many of us is this: what makes Northampton one of those places that so easily becomes home to people — a range of people — who come here. Why do we come, and stay? Most importantly, right now, how can we conserve what is important and meaningful for future generations.
This is not a longing to preserve some precious, rose-colored past or to keep things exactly as they are. This is about a future that will even-more-desperately need beauty, community and open space. This is about conserving housing that moderate-income people, including our children, can afford; about conserving economically diverse neighborhoods with trees and garden space. This is about saving beauty and joy from the clutches of infill policies that are, house-by-house, threatening and gentrifying downtown neighborhoods.
Claudia Lefko lives in Northampton.