Student Timothy Mies reacts to Bhanu Kapil’s recent BathHouse reading:
I arrived early to Bhanu Kapil’s reading in Sponberg Theater at Eastern Michigan University. After an unexpectedly hectic day (one filled with obstacle after obstacle, springing out like moving targets at a police practice range – throwing me for loops and forcing me to shoot from the hips as I tried to keep myself protected from the kinds of “real life” challenges one doesn’t expect to meet on a Tuesday afternoon), I arrived early to the theater irritated and aggravated. Having missed the previous meeting in which Kapil addressed our class, I was uncertain about what her reading would be like. I feared that hers would be like some others I’ve seen, unattended and uninspiring. However, I walked in to Sponberg Theater slightly amazed at how crowded it was. Knowing full well that many of the students in attendance were there by force and not by choice, I still felt excitement as I waited for her to begin reading. I figured that for such a large crowd to have gathered there, the event was probably going to be important and worthwhile.
Having read Humanimal, I knew Kapil’s literary voice. However, I did not know what to expect from her in person. She appeared both very stoic and, at the same time, approachable. Her presence was calming and reassuring, and I knew that I would be in for a good reading. I found her speech to be like that of her writing, each word carefully placed next to the other as if part of an intricate verbal jigsaw puzzle. She seemed both very present and also distant in her performance. In my opinion, any nervousness that she may have had leaked through in her reading. In a moment of transparent discomfort she proclaimed, “Now I will drink water,” as she sipped from the clear plastic bottle she pulled from behind her. Although her nervousness was apparent, it was not repulsive. Perhaps her demeanor allowed for her to perform in the way that she did. She captivated her audience both sonically and visually. She spoke of coming to Michigan for the first time and declared it as the “dark state” and also, “her state.” I thought about that quote throughout her performance. There are a number of ways in which one could interpret the meaning of “dark” in relation to Michigan, but I feel that she was talking about the black cloud of economic despair looming over our state, and by proclaiming it as “her state” she was expressing solidarity. That same kind of solidarity came through in the reading of Humanimal. Although the feral children she writes about were discovered many years ago, the reader or listener can feel a sense of oneness that she feels with the characters in her book.
While reading Humanimal, I discovered sentence after sentence that leaped off the page and slapped me in the face. Kapil’s words are so thoroughly appropriate, it is as if they were handed down to her. She is entitled to her words. I felt that same awe, if not more so, during her reading. I found myself trying to jot down sentences that grabbed my attention, but I could never keep up with her. Each time I felt compelled to copy a phrase, another one flew from her lips to my ears and I realized that I could not grab single sentences from a body of work that flowed so well. Kapil’s words are like family that cannot be broken apart.
As it turned out, that Tuesday both started and ended in a stressful way. However, the hour and a half that I spent in Sponberg Theater listening to Bhanu Kapil was both calming and inspiring. Her reading rejuvenated my tired mind and helped me to think differently about my own writing. That is, she inspired me to search for my own entitled words: words that form unbreakable sentences like those she read from Humanimal.