Baudelaire

by Richard Oxman

An Irish-born critic of French literature, Enid taught modern languages at the universities of Exeter and Oxford, producing studies of Baudelaire (1933), Rimbaud (1938), and Andre Gide (1954). She was instrumental in establishing the poetic reputation of Rimbaud, and is especially remembered for her critical studies of Gustave Flaubert, which were published in two volumes, in 1967 and 1971. And that’s just for starters.

It was in June of ‘68 that I met her (when she was a visiting professor) on the campus of Barnard, across the street from the “rioting” at Columbia University, my alma mater. What a difference a little 37 years makes.

As Enid put it, “It was a time when student rebellion in Paris had grown into nation-wide dissension. There were strikes throughout France; the whole country expressed its long-standing grievances against de Gaulle’s regime, and the turbulence and violence in Paris nearly reached the proportions of civil war.” [1]

In (and outside of) New York, during Enid’s stay, there was a garbage strike, Martin Luther King’s assassination, President Johnson’s resignation, a watershed controversy on the Barnard campus over sexual issues… and everything related to free speech, etc. vis-a-vis Vietnam. Do you remember what else? Hint: June 5th, just before her departure for Oxford.

Ripples from all of this made for quite an eventful, disturbing visit, but –as was so typical of her– she weathered everything courageously. This with the Grim Reaper looking over her shoulder [2] , and such overwhelming turbulence… not something she was used to or expected at all.

Among my debts to her, there are the precious stories involving Joyce Cary and Beckett… and her ruminations on Rimbaud. But, for today… when I am raising Enid’s flag, I think it’s most fitting to dwell on her thoughts concerning Baudelaire. [3] Most timely.

And on this note, I invite readers to review my remarks in today’s entry for **All About Us** on this site.

If it weren’t for Enid I don’t think I would have had what they call… *a clue*.

Footnotes:

[1] Joanna Richardson, Enid Starkie (New York: Macmillan, 1973), p.264.

[2] She was ill at the time, and died two years later.

[3] Baudelaire lived deep inside of her soul, and –like with him– Enid was charmed by the “hideous suburbs”… so much of which (along with their “first cousins”) are being replaced… more and more with each passing year… by atrocious towers and such. That’s just one aspect of her “connection” with the man who produced what’s arguably the most celebrated collection of verse in the history of modern poetry.