Kalamazoo Weekly News, Vol. 8, Issue 18
July 29, 2009
Writer Turns Passion Into International Phenomenon
By Jessica Short
The article above was based on this interview by Jessica Short with Zinta Aistars in July 2009.
Jessica: Where did you grow
up?
Zinta: I was born in Chicago, but grew up in Kalamazoo. Then left. Swore never to return again. Perhaps something
about being young and leaving the nest—many of us resolve at that threshold crossing into independence that we must
reinvent ourselves and need an entirely new environment around us to do so. Later in life, we learn that is not necessary.
Wherever we go, there we are. We bring ourselves along. I’ve had more than 30 different addresses in my life so far,
so far traveled to 49 of our 50 states, also lived overseas off and on. Now I am back in Kalamazoo,
have been here for over a decade this time, and find myself putting down tentative roots. Finally letting myself think of
southwest Michigan as home.
JS: Have you always
been interested in writing?
Z: Always. Even before I could write. I grew up in a family of artists. Really,
we could use a handyman or handywoman among us, because not one of us is good with a hammer or a screwdriver unless it’s
to hang up a new painting. It’s a family of writers, painters, photographers, musicians. Doing anything practical with
my life was out of the question! When I heard Joseph Campbell’s saying, “Follow your bliss,” I felt somewhat
validated, but I could never have been anything else other than who I am. That is, a writer. I’m grateful, actually,
to have been able to make a practical living writing and editing (I bring home the bacon by writing for health care in Grand
Rapids and wrote for Kalamazoo College communications prior to this), but I know how rare that can be, to find a niche like
that.
Latvian
was my first language—my parents are World War II refugees from Latvia.
Their families ran from Latvia, from the
onslaught of the Soviet army, and they had fully intended to return once the war was over … but the story would have
a different ending. The Soviets stayed, the Iron Curtain fell, and my parents met as two youth in Chicago, trying to learn English and how to make a life in this strange new country. My sister
and I were raised with the thought that once independence was regained, we would return to Latvia. And so, the Latvian culture was prominent in our childhood home. I might
even say… the American culture was nearly nonexistent in our home. We had no television until I was thirteen years old
(what a blessing!), nearly all the books on our bookshelves were Latvian, the artwork on the walls by Latvian artists, and
our family’s social life among the Latvian community in Kalamazoo—which was quite strong back then, and survives
still. I attended Latvian school on Saturdays and all summer.
What all
this leads to is, I think, a very strong awareness of language, of culture, of how art keeps alive an entire culture even
when the physical geography of the land is occupied by another. And, eventually becoming bilingual (I would learn English
when I started to attend public school in kindergarten), I would also learn that there can be as many perspectives on the
world as there are languages, i.e. cultures. Some things, some concepts, simply cannot be translated. In that sense, the Intranet
is not a gift to us, in that it tends toward erasing less dominant languages and cultures in favor of one or two more dominant
ones—English being one of them. But more on the flip side of that later…
So, I
write in two languages. I have three books published in the Latvian language—a poetry collection, a story collection,
and a children’s book—but am now working on completing a poetry collection in English, and am also doing battle
with a novel-memoir (wordplay intended). I express myself very differently in both languages. I almost never translate my
work from one language into the other. It just doesn’t work. I am too aware of all the many, many layers of meaning
in words, the cultural connotations, and these do not translate. Nor does the rhythm, the music of a language.
As for
my thinking of myself as a writer, yes, I did so from earliest childhood. Since Latvian is phonetic, it was easy to learn
how to read, and I was reading with great relish at age 3 in my first language, and I learned to read in English before I
was fully comfortable speaking it. Books mesmerize me. The power of the written word—it’s as magical, as mystical
to me now as it was to me as a child. My father, Viestarts Aistars is an artist—a painter, and I love the visual arts, too, paint a little at home when no one is witness,
and might have gone that direction, but I had too much respect for his passion and ability to follow so directly in his steps.
Although I consider it the greatest compliment when readers tell me I “paint with words.” My writing can be very
visual. My grandfather, Ernests Aistars, was a writer, had published 12 novels in Latvian, and I suppose I figured this was
a generation away, so safer to follow in that direction. He taught me to treat language with reverence.
JS: When/why was
The Smoking Poet first created?
Z: The Smoking Poet was born in early 2006, on a business trip to Austin, Texas. Once the business day
was done for me, I would check out the cigar lounges in Austin,
and met a very friendly and chatty cigar lounge owner, Charlie, also an immigrant. He took a liking to me, and invited me
to stay at his lounge after he closed to the public. We sent up smoke rings with his best cigars, drank his best wine, listened
to soothing music, and talked about the pleasures of running a cigar lounge. He nearly had me convinced it was the thing
to do when I got back to Michigan. The atmosphere of
a classy cigar lounge is quite special. There is this ambiance of relaxation, of leaving the hectic and stressful world outside,
and retreating to this place where one can enjoy a fragrant, hand-rolled cigar, dream a little, restore the spirit. Slow down
and consider the finer pleasures in life. I envisioned this place back home that would serve the best of this—the fine
stogies, aged scotch, a jazz quartet playing in the corner, dim lights, soft leather couches. Now and then, a poetry reading…
Heck,
I didn't have the capital to do such a thing once the trip and the fantasy was over. Writers aren’t usually big money
makers, you know? But then it hit me. Why not transpose this wonderful ambiance into print, into a virtual place online? “A
fine cigar and good literature—two of life’s most enduring pleasures” became our motto. An atmosphere of
relaxation, a moment away from the raucous world to restore the spirit… yes, and so The
Smoking Poet, the literary ezine, was born. I put out a call for submissions, put together a template, and TSP was
on its way.
JS: What is the idea
behind The Smoking Poet?
Z: There are so very many literary ezines online! And quite a few of them
are very good. Some are exceptional. Many duplicate each other. What makes The Smoking
Poet unique is this cigar lounge atmosphere. Of course, you don’t have to be a cigar aficionado, you don’t
have to like cigars at all … it was that ambiance we, my new editorial staff and I, were after. That we offer something
to nourish the spirit, a retreat into the finer arts. But we maintain a page called the Cigar Lounge, too, of course, where
my coeditor posts cigar reviews, the occasional story or poetry that ties in with cigars, and reviews of cigar lounges we
visit. I should add that our lounge has a definite feminist slant—too many cigar brands, alas, use sexist advertising,
and our requirement is, well, none of that.
We are
a quarterly, four issues per year, and we read submissions all year long. We publish poetry, fiction, nonfiction, the occasional
novel excerpt, book reviews, and each issue also has a feature artist interview, with artwork appearing on most every page.
The current issue, in fact, summer 2009, which will be online until mid September, features my father’s artwork. The
fall issue will feature an artist from Detroit, the winter issue a photographer from Alaska.
A new
addition to our ezine is a page we call “A Good Cause.” I’m very proud to have my daughter, Lorena Audra
Rutens, as an editor overseeing this page and joining our masthead. She lives in Chicago
and works in the non-profit arena. Her passion has always been to shine a light into the lives of those we tend to forget.
She has a master’s in social work, so her focus is on the downtrodden, the abused and neglected, the cause that needs
and deserves to be upheld. She oversees this page, each issue choosing such a cause, raising awareness and letting our readers
know how they can help.
Each issue
also features an author or a poet. In the current issue, that’s Kalamazoo-based author, Bonnie Jo Campbell, whose story
collection, Animal Salvage, was published this past spring by Wayne State University
in the Michigan Writers Series. But our writers are from all over the country, all over the world. We have an annual short
story contest, in fact, and our winners have represented all corners of the world—Singapore, France, Spain, Australia,
Iceland, New Zealand, Indonesia. This really appeals to my multicultural self… this is the majesty of the Internet,
that it creates a global community, and distance does not exist.
In past
issues, we have featured Dorianne Laux, Sue Miller, Tish Cohen, Ingrid Hill, Agate Nesaule, Lynn Stegner, and many other truly
fine word-artists of national, even international repute. It’s been an honor to welcome such literary stars to our pages.
JS: What do you
want writers to take from The Smoking Poet?
Z: Not just writers, but our readers, too… to enjoy this global community
gathered for a moment in time in our “place away.” The Smoking Poet
has evolved greatly over the years, and continues to evolve. Most of the writers on our pages have very impressive publishing
histories. So I hope our readers enjoy that high quality of literary pleasures… and enjoy the beauty of the artwork.
I hope they might be introduced to a writer they may not have read yet. And I hope they might be moved to make a difference,
too, for a good cause we feature or for one of their own.
JS: Anything else
you want to add?
Z: Home is where you make it, where you heart is, it’s true. What I
love perhaps most of all about TSP is its international flavor. This is a lounge
where anyone can drop in, from any point on the globe, and find something just for them. Had we opened a lounge in Michigan,
we would not have this international community to such a degree. I can stay in Kalamazoo, sink my roots deep into the soil,
and keep traveling. Or have the world come to me.
The Smoking
Poet
http://thesmokingpoet.net
The Smoking
Poet on Twitter
http://twitter.com/thesmokingpoet
We also
have a group page on Facebook and MySpace, where we post news, discussions, calls for submissions.
