The Insult
The Insult
Jeffrey R. Paine
May 29, 2003
“You‘re not a poet!” she exclaimed indignantly.
“You’re, you’re,” her mouth worked soundlessly, finally expelling the final epithet: “YOU are a versifier!”
A long-time friend through the local writers’ group, she’d agreed to meet to read over some of his poetry as he prepared a new chapbook. The insult hit him like the low blow it was, deep and visceral. Raising herself up in righteous indignation, she proclaimed, promethean, a finger pointed at his heart like a spear, like a bolt of lightning, in a loud, clear voice: “Poetaster!”
Much to his surprise, as well as hers, he did not disappear in a blinding flash of lightning. There was no booming clap of thunder. He did not explode. Nor did he implode. Neither did he suddenly melt, vaporize or shatter into millions of pieces.
The sound of her denunciation died away rapidly, leaving a ringing in his ears, and two angry people facing each other. Or maybe it was one angry and one embarrassed person. Surrounded by an offended and baffled crowd of bystanders and by-sitters in the coffee shop.
He realized that the fatal blow had fallen, his secret was out, revealed--no, betrayed--by a trusted companion, and he was still alive. Perhaps not invincible, but certainly made of sterner stuff than he had thought.
She, for her part, was confused, convinced as she was that at her condemnation, he should have collapsed like a house of cards under a ceiling fan turned suddenly on high.
And yet, life continued on. The customers in the shop returned to their own conversations and transactions, while the pair--each in their own way—sought to calm themselves.
After some further, forced, small talk, the two left to go their own ways.
Later, on reflection, he realized that having pretensions and writing by formula could still be a point of pride, rather than a secret to be hidden away.
“After all,” he thought to himself, “I’m good at what I do, and it pays well, at least well enough to pay the bills.”
So, when it came time to update his business card at the greeting card company, he added, “Poetaster Extraordinaire.”