Authors shine at Literary Festival

The thing that surprised me most about the N.C. Literary Festival was that it wasn't more packed than it was. Seats were available at all the events I attended, and the streets, restaurants and parking lots were not jam-packed, as they are on football weekends. For those of us who attended, however, the weekend was a delightful smorgasbord of words and the authors who arrange them beautifully.

I had attended the last Literary Festival in Chapel Hill in 2002 and was eager for this reprise. I was not disappointed. Although I did not attend any of the ticketed keynote events and confined my visit to Saturday only, the day was fulfilling and intellectually nourishing. I missed John Grisham, poet James Applewhite (who grew up in Stantonsburg and teaches at Duke) and performances of Lee Smith's "Good Ol' Girls" and Clyde Edgerton's "The Bible Salesman," but I heard readings by some authors I admire and discovered at least one new author who was a serendipitous surprise.

Sessions focused on the milieu of North Carolina history and the literary portrayal of that history. I was particularly interested in the session on Southern Mills, which featured Michael Chitwood, whose "The Weave Room" is a collection of poems about a textile mill. Ron Rash, whose "Eureka Mill" is a painfully honest look at a textile mill through a poet's eye, was featured in a separate session with Lee Smith about Southern storytelling. In the mills session, I discovered Barbara Presnell, whose poetry in "Piece Work" captures the voices of textile mill workers.

In a later session, former state poet laureate Fred Chappell, Robert Morgan (author of "Gap Creek" and "Boone") and young poet Jesse Graves read poems that evoked the uniqueness of the Southern experience. I found myself wanting to devour all the words in all the books that were for sale in tents outside the lecture halls, but I reminded myself of the stack of books already standing by my bedside and aligned on bookshelves that I have vowed to read. And I wanted the story told of life on the mill villages that had marked the transition from the agrarian South to the cities of the New South. In the early 20th century, nearly all North Carolinians had a common experience either on farms or in mill villages. I asked Chitwood if he knew of any great novels about textile mills, and he mentioned the late Doug Marlette's "The Bridge" — a good but not great first novel that deals with memories and denials about a violent union campaign at a mill. Doris Betts (who also spoke at the festival) wrote "The Scarlet Thread," which is set in a textile mill but is out of print. The setting is ripe for some great novelist.

We bought Rash's "Serena" and Presnell's "Piece Work" but did not buy either of Elizabeth Edwards' books, "Saving Graces" and "Resilience." Her session, the last one of the day for my wife and me, packed the sanctuary at University Methodist Church. Edwards spoke openly and frankly about the loss of her teenage son, Wade, in an automobile accident and admiringly about her father, a Navy officer and athlete who suffered a debilitating stroke but exceeded doctors' dire prognosis. She also spoke in general terms about having "my life explode on the pages of tabloids" last year. She was already at work on "Resilience" when her husband's sordid affair became tabloid fodder, and she told her editor she couldn't continue the project. But then she realized this painful episode was relevant to her theme of "Resilience," and she included her reaction to the personal crisis. Edwards is my UNC classmate (though I've never met her), and I have wanted to read her books but never got around to it. Her calm honesty and wit in tragic circumstances make me want to read her books even more.

This Literary Festival may have packed too much into too short a time, but for the hundreds, maybe thousands, who attended, it was a delight for the eyes and ears. Literature is an art of equal standing with music, painting or sculpture, at least as capable of expanding the mind and inspiring the soul. On Saturday, Chapel Hill became a museum to North Carolina's contributions to the best of this art.

Poetry and more at Barton College

Monday night's audience at Barton College's Ragan Writing Center was not large — less than 50 (but I didn't take a head count). But it was a rainy night, and the topic was poetry, a spectacle not likely to fill a stadium.

The Emerging Writers Series, sponsored by Wilson residents Dr. and Mrs. William Batchelor, brought in Catherine Carter and Dan Albergotti, two "emerging" poets with North Carolina ties. Carter teaches at Western Carolina, and Albergotti earned one of his degrees at UNC-Greensboro. The two presented a contrast in poetic styles, Carter more whimsical and humorous, Albergotti more serious and provocative. My wife and I were there primarily to see Albergotti, who was in UNC-G's MFA program with my son and daughter-in-law. They had given me an autographed copy of Albergotti's book "The Boatloads" as a Father's Day gift (or was it birthday?) last year. As a college freshman, I marveled at the concept I had discovered in the college catalog, that writing poetry could be taught. I had assumed that poetry had to be inspired purely by a muse. I ended up taking that course on poetry writing, as well as a couple on fiction writing, but never managed to produce marketable works of poetry or fiction. I did manage to make a living as a writer for 35 years. When Fred Chappell, former state poet laureate and director of the creative writing program at UNC-G, spoke at Barton a few years ago, he joked about the poverty and humility that attends to being a poet.

I've retained an interest in poetry all these years, even as I edited thousands of clearly un-poetic newspaper articles. When my son was learning creative writing, he introduced me to a fine volume of poetry by Ron Rash, "Eureka Mill," with painfully evocative poems set in an old textile mill much like the mill village where my parents grew up, and to writers such as Michael McFee, who also spoke at Barton a few years ago.

Poetry won't fill a stadium, but it clearly has its fans, as Barton's Emerging Writers Series has shown. Poets regularly fill the room in the college's Writing Center. Monday's event emphasizes the inherent value of a liberal arts college. A college raises the threshold of art and culture in the community. Wilson would be a lesser city without Barton's highly educated faculty; its attraction of artists and writers who speak, exhibit and inspire; its lecture series such as the Sprinkle Lectures on religion or the Emerging Writers Series; its symphony orchestra and its theatrical performances, such as last week's "Violet," a musical based on the Doris Betts short story, "The Ugliest Pilgrim"; and even its athletic teams. Barton deserves the support of all Wilsonians who care about the quality of life in this community.