Planet News

Today, a friend bid me a temporary farewell with a gift.  It was wrapped in silver paper shining in futuristic luster.  Without looking inside, I was surprised by my friend’s cover choice.  He knew me too well not to select a different décor, say in scarlet, dark purple, wine-red, or even chocolate.  However, I ignored the cover because I was more curious about the gift.

It turned out to be a poetry collection, Allen Ginsberg’s Planet News (1961-1967).  And this was a second, even greater surprise.  

This friend of mine and I had talked about the Beats once, very briefly; I didn’t know enough to deepen our conversation, nor was I particularly interested.  In contrast, we had had extremely long discussions about poets we both admire.  Therefore, it surprised me that he gave me a poetry book by an author whom he knew I barely know and care about.

But this was exactly the point.

“Do you know why I chose this for you?”

—A question I could not answer.

“Look at the inscription; I wrote it.”

Hence I read:

In the hope of challenging your ever-bright mind and spirit with poetry that, to you seems fresh and new and that, afterwards, you’ll want to talk about.

These lines no longer surprised me; they touched me. 

My friend chose an author I would unlikely volunteer to read, a book I would unlikely be willing to buy, a dimension I would unlikely be aware of and open to, and a perspective I would unlikely be willing and able to try, if I weren’t given them as a gift.

Is there anything more subtle—and valuable—than this thought?

In retrospect I realize that “Planet News” is not just the title of a poetry book, but the name of all the gifts I receive from my friends that immensely enrich my intellectual and spiritual life.