Michael S. Harper, R.I.'s first poet laureate
Rhode Island’s first poet laureate, a worldwide literary presence and beloved, longtime Brown University professor, died on May 7 surrounded by his children and listening to the sax of John Coltrane in "A Love Supreme."
Michael S. Harper was 78.
"We wanted to have that in his ears and ours," says his daughter, Rachel Harper, who followed in her father’s footsteps and became a poet and author. She and her two brothers, Patrice and Roland, are lovers of the arts primarily because of their dad.
Jazz was the cadence of his work — volumes of pieces bundled in 15 books since 1970. His New York Times obituary was partially titled, "Poet with a Jazz Pulse."
His first publication, "Dear John, Dear Coltrane," and another were nominated for the National Book Award. An early poem was a three-line ode to Miles Davis:
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A friend told me
He'd risen above jazz
I leave him there
A student of Harper’s from the 1980s wrote that Harper was among the treasures in Rhode Island.
"A life-size statue of Harper should stand proudly atop the State House," Tom Chandler, also a Rhode Island poet laureate, wrote in a 2008 Providence Journal article that announced Harper had won the prestigious Frost Medal. It was one of his many accolades.
"After all, he is arguably our greatest living export to the larger literary world."
As news of his death spread, similar praise flooded in. A public Facebook group in memoriam of Harper has quickly filled with posts.
Elizabeth Thomas, of Pennsylvania, posted about a poem she wrote about her grandfather’s suicide. She read it aloud, shaking, in front of his class. The students restricted their comments.
"Finally Mr. Harper banged his fist down and said, 'None of you are talking about the heart of the poem! None of you are talking about the SUICIDE!' Well, I pretty much worshipped him after that."
Harper’s poetry had a multitude of muses besides jazz — including black America, Roger Williams, the christening of the USS Rhode Island and the death of his infant son.
The poem about his son ends with: "There’s nothing in the beat to hold it in, melody and turn human skin; a brown berry gone to rot just two days on the branch; we’ve lost a son, the music, the jazz, comes in."
In November 2003 at a poetry reading at the University of California, Harper said so much of the great poetry of America is about the neighborhood.
His first neighborhood was Brooklyn. He was born in 1938 in the same house his mother was raised in, and delivered by the same person who delivered her: his grandfather.
"My mother taught me how to read and write," he told the audience.
Harper taught his children much as well, and his "deep love," explains Rachel Harper, included lectures, rather than grounding, and long talks.
She called him a constant professor who would "pour everything he knew into you."
Ray Rickman, a longtime friend, said Harper’s vast knowledge made him "stunningly brilliant." He sat in on some of his classes at Brown University, where Harper taught from 1970 to his retirement in 2013.
"Have you been in the room with Maya Angelou?" Rickman asks. "He had the same presence, and always knew more than you did."
Rickman, a former state representative, submitted the bill that created a poet laureate for Rhode Island — and had Harper in mind when pitching it.
Gov. Edward DiPrete nominated him, and Harper held the post for five years — telling new admirers along the way that poetry is for all.
Says Don Share, editor of Poetry magazine: "He brought voices, traditions, and convictions into poetry that hadn’t been part of it before. His vast experience expanded American literature, and though he will be missed, his words will carry on resoundingly."
The family is still making funeral arrangements. Survivors include his three children, and two granddaughters. A memorial celebration at Brown for students and fans is being planned for 2017.
—apina@providencejournal.com
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On Twitter: @AlishaPina