Irving Layton

[Bob Parkins]

Many in these parts will wish to note this, from GnM:

Canadian poet Irving Layton died Wednesday in a Montreal care facility where had been living since 2000.

The 93-year old poet, who was nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature, had been suffering from Alzheimer's disease. At his death, he was surrounded at Maimonides Geriatric Centre in Montreal by several caregivers and his long-time friend, Musia Schwartz.

Born in the small Romanian town of Tirgul Neamt in 1912 to Jewish parents, Mr. Layton emigrated to Canada in 1913. His family settled in Montreal, where he grew up a poor neighbourhood around St. Urbain Street.

[dar]

O, Parky. That is such sad news. I belong to an Irving Layton and Other Contradictions site and I can't believe the news of his death hadn't posted there. But, I've changed email addresses, so that could be why I haven't seen it.

Thank you so much for posting this. I have a photo he sent me, smiling and happy wearing a large medallion, but I can't tell the year it was taken. It's just a regular photograph and he had written me about 4 or 5 times from a Niagra On The Lake address. He signed the letters "Lonnie", at least that is what it looks like. But, then, he became ill.

I know Judith Fitzgerald knew him well and perhaps you will have more news of his memorial or remembrance services via Judith?

I will reread those letters and his poems tonight. I wish I could have met him. I actually found LC because I had been a fan of Irving Layton's work originally. He was an original and always will be.

[cynthia delgado hidalgo]

I am so sorry to hear about Mr. Layton's death. I know he was a very good friend of Leonard's. It is shame people like that have to die, at least physically. I will never forget about him.

[Anne]

This is very sad news. Irving Layton was a gifted poet and I enjoyed reading all the books of his that I have.

When I returned to University quite a few years ago I attended a class with his son, David Layton, who later published a memoir, Motion Sickness where he discussed life with his famous father.

As I said, it is a sad loss. Irving Layton was a wonderful writer.

[lizzytysh]

Thank you for posting this, Bob. When I saw Irving's full name, I was afraid it was there to announce his death. I'm so sorry. I just feel sad.

This is one thread that I hope Jarkko will move to the News thread. It's as Leonard-related as it possibly could be. They were very dear, long-time friends.

I would like to think that Leonard and Judith were there with him, but it only says " . . . caregivers." Leonard and Judith were the first two who I thought of, and I hope Judith was able to spend some appreciable, in-person time with Irving in the last couple years. I'm certain Leonard has. Judith wrote a piece, regarding her visit with him in the facility, written so vividly that I had to force my memory to clarify whether I had read it, or if it was included in some of the footage I have. I know this is hard news for both her and Leonard. Musia Schwartz was loyal to the end.

I've read some of his poetry, but never any of his books. However, the footage I have of him, including discussing poetry, and the things I've read and heard about him, paint a portrait of a dynamic, highly-individual, and brilliant man. Delightfully quotable. A tremendous loss in many realms, including poetry and literature. Leonard's dear friend.

Your letters and photo are precious treasures, Dar, which I know you know.


From Leonard's most recent album, Dear Heather:

Go No More A-Roving

for Irving Layton
Words: Lord Byron (1788-1824)
Music: Leonard Cohen

So we'll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.
For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul outwears the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.
Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a-roving
By the light of the moon.

"I taught him how to dress, he taught me how to live forever," Cohen once said.

My heartfelt sympathy to Irving's children and loved ones, including Judith and Leonard.


Love,
Elizabeth

[Fljotsdale]

Very sad news. It is even sadder, though, that he had Altzheimer's. I didn't know that. It is likely that he no longer knew his friends and family, and it must have been very painful for them to see him in such a condition - so I am unsurprised if Leonard and other friends were not regular visitors, and not present at his death. They lost Layton long ago.

With Altzheimer's, the person dies well before the body does. The condition destroys the brain, which ends up with holes in it. It's nasty.

Thanks for reminding us of Leonard's tribute to him, Lizzy.

[deubel]

So sad but like that book Irving loved Ecclessiastes, all passes......

I will sit down and read Grand Finale and am certain like in that poem, the grey haired lyricist went out in rage (despite the outward calm appearance....). He came down from the hills and brought us so much beauty (which is truth).

Let's remember him.

DD

[lizzytysh]

What you say about Alzheimer's Disease is true, Fljotsdale. Still, the loyalty and visits, bringing the comfort of human warmth through touch, eye contact, and a kind, familiar voice, continued.


You can see the accompanying photo of Leonard, the wonderful two of Irving, and one of Judith, by going to this link ~ http://www.leonardcohenfiles.com/torontostar.html

Here is an article that's there:

OUR NATIONAL MUSE


by Judith Fitzgerald
The Toronto Star, August 1, 1999
(This one's for you, Jarkko -- Have a bodacious birthday!/Judith)



Allow me to tell you a little about Irving Layton, the big guy with the aggressive ego and impressive credentials I first met behind the poet desk at York University in the early '70s.[/]

On the cusp of 20, perched nervously on the edge of the student chair during that all-important initial consultation, silently chanting Hail Marys while the maker-breaker of my dreams looks me over critically, I lower my eyes to one hell of a cluttered desk.

You're too pretty to be a poet, he sighs, returning the requisite portfolio, smiling broadly and rising to dismiss me.

Really? I dead-pan. And, you're too ugly to be one.

That's my girl, he roars, accepted into the course!

That's Irving, the poetic genius I am privileged to call both mentor and friend.

Me, too, opines Leonard Cohen agreeably, except I think I might more readily consider Frank (F.R.) Scott or Louis Dudek mentors or teachers; but, even there, the lines often blur because of the enterprise in which we were all more or less willing participants and the fact it was happening then, in the '50s and '60s, in those days...

Those days? Ah, those days, those nights, those times, drawls the mischievous Maestro of Timing, it seems so long ago ...

Touche. The long-distance line groans with pixilated gravelly giggles.

Cohen, the creator of a stellar body of work and several certified masterpieces across a swath of genres, is in fine form; and, yes, thank you, he's absolutely delighted to talk poetry, Montreal and especially Irving Layton.

Like Spain's Federico Garcia Lorca (1898-1936), Layton's one of the key artists from whom Cohen sought direction concerning the kind of poet he might become:

I feel utterly blessed by Irving's friendship and regard. During those days, it was quite magical. There was a kinship, a common ground, an atmosphere that, to my mind, was unique. Ours has always been a mutually rewarding friendship; we complement, support, like and generally listen to each other. That's why I wrote -- well, I might or might not call it a poem -- Layton's Question for Irving:


Always after I tell him what I intend to do next,
Layton solemnly inquires:
Leonard, are you sure you're doing
the wrong thing?

You know, he confides without missing a beat, I've been rereading his poems a lot lately. I've even gone so far as to compose some music for a few of them. The gratifying thing about reading his work now is that it grows with you. The older I get, the more his poems reveal. I'm knocked out by the richness, the resonance, the generosity, the hard intelligence, the clarity, the passion and above all else, the great great aching tenderness which remains very much a part of who he is and what he means to me.

I would say, adds Cohen, in some indescribable way, it's ultimately about an absence of cynicism. It has never been an attractive strategy, in my opinion. I never saw it as one, at any rate. I tend to find things more amusing or bemusing or perplexing or... But, such things do not reduce me to cynicism. We are all, after all, human beings. Irving can be acerbic, bombastic, vitriolic and ruthlessly lucid; but, he always maintains and even nurtures a generosity of spirit that precludes cynicism as a viable position from which to either write, teach or live. I think that may be where his greatness resides.

These days, Layton (87) resides in his long-time home in Montreal's Notre Dame de Grace neighbourhood with round-the-clock caregivers.

Not surprisingly, he still recites entire poems -- both his own and others -- from memory, recalls seemingly mundane details about his visitors (many not afflicted with Alzheimers would probably have forgotten by now) and strings together language that is his usual everyday poetically precise and eloquently beautiful, at least to hear Musia Schwartz, the poet's fiercely loyal lifelong friend tell it (especially when pressed for details on her early days hanging out with Layton and Cohen).

She speaks with a tender awe tempered by sagacious sensitivity. Just imagine, recalls Schwartz, it's the late '50s. Two of the world's best with new books under their belts spending the evening celebrating the double triumph: It was a fantastic night, fantastic! Leonard was Leonard. Very much there; but, quieter, more watchful and reserved than Irving. Irving? Already then he was eloquent, passionate, fiery...

Of all the places where two great poets could have been, they were both together at Leonard's mother's house launching those books. It was the most unforgettable night in the history of Montreal.

Montreal, in possession of a literary legacy embracing the Preview, First Statement, Northern Review and Contact groups from the '40s through the '60s, continues to prove fertile ground for a distinguished crop of poets commencing with A.J.M. Smith, A.M. Klein, Eli Mandel, Phyllis Webb and John Newlove and winding up, at the end of this century, proudly boasting at least one Nobel-worthy poet.

The central figures defining the very essence of this country's poetic sensibility, Cohen and Layton yoked their radical humanism with prophetic ruminations and gaudeous proclamations of lust inextricably intertwined with supple and sensuous poetry of divine longing at precisely the moment when po-mo primitivism (The Beats, e.g.) superseded the modern movement in art and literature. Most assuredly at their best illuminating the post-industrial dispossessed, each tireless worker in words would prove to be a valuable counter-balance to the deconstructionist head-wind (steadily picking up hot air).

In 1997, Layton, the author of The Cold Green Element, The Bull Calf, Whatever Else Poetry Is Freedom, Butterfly on Rock and The Birth of Tragedy -- to identify but a classic few -- told The Vancouver Sun: This is my home territory. I still find it the most colourful and exciting city on the continent. I love Montreal. I love the clash of the two cultures. I love the scenery. I love every blessed centimetre of Montreal.

Montreal. McGill. Jarry Park. The Main. Mont Royal. As most poetry aficionados readily acknowledge, it's a lovely frisson de fact that the St. Lawrence city's the birthplace of modern English-Canadian writing (particularly since its golden boy, now a 64-year-old craftsmaestro, continues to hammer away at perfecting his skills and honing his talents).

I wouldn't be who I am if I had been born anywhere else, maintains Cohen, I have close ties with the city because it's my birthplace; my sister still lives in my old house; and, of course, Irving and many other friends are still there, too.

Regrettably, he sees neither book nor performance tour looming in the near future; but, he's working on a new studio album and reports his next collection, tentatively titled The Book of Longing, is definitely taking shape. I've got about 100 poems, now; so, it could be as soon as next year. Some share a kinship with Book of Mercy, others relate to song and still others are simply lyric poems. For some reason, I'm writing a lot, right now, too -- something I've learned not to question when it's happening.

Internet-savvy readers seeking a sneak preview of the upcoming volume will find a generous selection of new poems at The Leonard Cohen Files (http://www.nebula.simplenet.com/cohen/), a work of cyber-art in its own right created by Finland's father-and-son team, Jarkko and Rauli Arjatsalo: Jarkko's such a sweet and kind man, Cohen confides, he and his family finally came to LA to visit me. A lovely family. A kind and selfless man. I can't say enough good things about him.

An incomparable artist supremely capable of living privately in full public view and equally adept at reinventing not only himself but also his relationship with the world around him, Cohen is to contemporary music and literature what Shakespeare was to Elizabethan arts and letters. His staggering command of several genres places his oeuvre alongside that of the traditional giants (while his ability to successfully marry art and popular culture without diminishing either bespeaks a facility that comes along once every millennium or so).

Cohen takes no personal credit for honouring the gift, explaining he doesn't write to control the chaos, not at all. No. If there's one thing that I do know, it is that I am definitely not in control.

In his recent biography, Ira Nadel recounts the story of the time in 1991 Toronto when the reclusive Cohen was scheduled to appear as the surprise guest at a tribute honouring Layton:

His appearance was a well-guarded secret because he did not want to upstage Layton. When he appeared, Cohen told the audience that exposure to [Layton's] work moves us.... This is the tonic, the elixir. Irving, I salute the aching and triumphant impeccability of your life.

Me, too.

It would have been a privilege to have known Irving Layton.

You'll notice, of course, Leonard's long-standing dance with time.

Love,
Elizabeth

[lizzytysh]

From the article, "Working for the World to Come," at this link ~ http://www.leonardcohenfiles.com/intheirwords.html

It was a cold mid-winter's afternoon and we were at Leonard Cohen's Montreal duplex-studio. He took our coats and led us into the kitchen where we sat down at an old walnut dining room table. The walls of the apartement were white. Simplicity of form and colour dominated the place. In a corner of the kitchen there was a waterheater with a large bust of Irving Layton sitting on top of it. Next to the door an electric socket protruded from the wall and on top rested another Layton icon - a small pen and ink profile. We chatted for a while and then took some photographs in the bedroom and the living-room. On the living-room wall the only adornment, a painting of an unidentified female saint, stood out against the white surface.

From the overview, "THE SONG OF LEONARD COHEN

PORTRAIT OF A POET, A FRIENDSHIP AND A FILM,"


by Harry Rasky, at this link ~ http://www.leonardcohenfiles.com/rasky-fcc.html

"In the late seventies, filmmaker Harry Rasky was on one wild trip! He soaked in a jacuzzi at the Four Seasons with Leonard Cohen ... he drank wine and talked about the meaning of the life with Leonard and Irving Layton at Leonard's place in Montreal... Harry and Leonard were mistaken for Bader-Meinhof terrorists by soldiers with machine guns while dining at a German Burger King ... Harry was also a part of the 1979 Field Commander Cohen tour ... but best of all, he got everything on film. Read more about his 1981 documentary Song of Leonard Cohen.

From the article, "LEONARD COHEN
LOS ANGELES 1992

F ROM SONGWRITERS ON SONGWRITING"
BY PAUL ZOLLO, at the link ~ http://www.leonardcohenfiles.com/zollo.html

[Interviewer to Leonard] So you’re not a writer for whom ideas simply appear?

[Leonard's response] I haven’t had an idea in a long long time. And I’m not sure I ever had one.

Now my friend Irving Layton, the great Canadian writer, said, "Leonard’s mind is unpolluted by a single idea." And he meant it as a kind of compliment. He’s a close friend and he knows me, and it’s true. I don’t have ideas. I don’t really speculate on things. I get opinions but I’m not really attached to them. Most of them are tiresome. I have to trot them out in conversations from time to time just to cooperate in the social adventure. But I have a kind of amnesia and my ideas just kind of float above this profound disinterest in myself and other people. So to find something that really touches and addresses my attention, I have to do a lot of hard, manual work.

From the transcription of
"The John Hammond Years
Interview with John Hammond
and Leonard Cohen
BBC, September 20, 1986," at this link ~ http://www.leonardcohenfiles.com/jhammond.html

Leonard Cohen: . . . I always think of something Irving Layton said about the requirements for a young poet, and I think it goes for a young singer, too, or a beginning singer: “The two qualities most important for a young poet are arrogance and inexperience.” It’s only some very strong self-image that can keep you going in a world that really conspires to silence everyone.

Love,
Elizabeth

[dar]

I really enjoyed this post. Nice.

[Tchocolatl]

I just heard a comment Cohen would have said about the death of Layton :

"Il y a eu Layton et nous avons suivi".

[Fljotsdale]

Thanks for all those links, Lizzy! Great stuff.

Tchoco? Translate, please?

[Anne]

He said "There was Irving Layton, and then there was the rest of us"

[lizzytysh]

You're welcome, Fljotsdale. Yes, it is. I agree. Did you follow the link that icecreamtruck provided in his thread ["Rest in Peace Teacher"]? It's also very informative on Irving, as is Demetris's excellent interpretation in his "How I Met Irving Layton in Greece," reposted article.

Thank you for the interpretation, Anne. Yes, it does sound like something Leonard would say about Irving.

~ Elizabeth

[jarkko]

I have created a blog/website for people to post their thoughts and memories - http://irvinglayton.blogspot.com/.

Tara Gowland (Jacobs)