Filling a Vacuum

Kwame Dawes is celebrated as a gifted poet, playwright, novelist, scholar, and journalist. His numerous accomplishments as an editor, however, are less known. He is the Glenna Luschei editor in chief of the journal Prairie Schooner, and, for the past four years, he has served as the founding director of the African Poetry Book Fund, an impressive venture that publishes books by both young and established African poets, from the debut collection by Ethiopian American writer Mahtem Shiferraw to the collected poems of Gabriel Okara, an elder statesman of Nigerian literature. 

Dawes recently spoke with the Poetry Foundation about his many editorial projects, how the African Poetry Book Fund came into being, and finding time for his own writing. The following interview was edited and condensed. 

What exactly is the African Poetry Book Fund?
 
The African Poetry Book Fund was established about four years ago in response to an absence. There was no publisher exclusively devoted to publishing African poets. This seemed ridiculous to me, even as it explained why so often people complained to me that they did not know where to find the work of African poets in print. A few of us felt that something needed to be done, so we formed this entity and brought together a group of gifted and successful writers who all have a remarkable track record of supporting the work of other writers. Chris Abani, Bernardine Evaristo, John Keene, Matthew Shenoda, and Gabeba Baderoon constitute the remarkable editorial team for the Fund, and we work in the engine room for this enterprise. 

Our goal is to see more books of poetry published and to create an environment that encourages the advancement of African poetry. We are now adding to this work a translation effort to bring work published in traditional African languages as well as in other colonial languages to readers.
 
What was your thinking about what the project would encompass? You’re publishing such a range: established poets, younger poets, poets from Africa, poets from the diaspora, chapbooks.
 
We are filling a vacuum. So while we are publishing work by first-time writers, we are also publishing the work of established poets and, of course, by the folks we regard as the senior poets from Africa. Given the poor publishing opportunities for even highly regarded poets from Africa, we feel it is imperative that people have access to the work of the best poets in Africa at all stages of their careers. Our goal is not to monopolize this publishing but to start to build interest in and awareness of the work. Eventually, we believe, other publishers will start to pay attention and acquire the work of African poets. In fact, this has already started to happen, and we expect this to only get better. In the meantime, we are committed creating a publishing home for poets so they can grow. In three years, we have published some 30 African poets. This is just the start. 
 
The African Poetry Book Fund awards the Sillerman Prize annually to an African poet who has not yet published a collection of poetry. The University of Nebraska Press then publishes the book for which you write an introduction. You do a great job of analyzing the poets’ work, and you also provide an excellent frame and context to consider their work.
 
Each book is different. Each poet is different. That is the point. It is not my job to start to speak of a school of African poetry or even trends in African poetry. I am more interested in ensuring that the work of African poets is published so that scholars, critics, reviewers, and other poets can do that work. This strikes me as important. So when I come to the winners of the Sillerman Prize, I simply try to engage their work as I encounter it. What I can say is that our winners are truly writing some of the best poetry being published today, anywhere. I read and edit poetry for a living. I teach writing for a living. I pay attention to poetry from all over the world. I am not exaggerating here. [Sillerman winners] Clifton Gachagua, Ladan Osman, Mahtem Shiferraw and Safia Elhillo are startlingly gifted poets. Their books vary in style and content but share the qualities of urgency, vulnerability, and sheer poetic skill. 
 
When you’re looking for established poets to publish, such as Gabriel Okara or Kofi Awoonor, what are your criteria? Did you just start with a long list of great poets?
 
We do have a list. The list is of the poets who have helped shape African poetry and whose work has not been treated to the kind of attention and presentation that we give to major writers in other traditions. Our list is long, but we have to find a team to work on each project. Collected volumes and new and selected volumes can be challenging because we have to secure permissions for reprints, and we have to work closely with the authors to ensure that we have a book that does justice to their body of work. We have several such works in the pipeline. We believe that it is pointless to pretend that African poetry is somehow new. There is a long tradition, and we believe that it should be made available to readers.
 
You’ve also been involved with the building—and stocking—of poetry libraries. I wondered if you could talk a little about these projects. 
 
We have not built libraries. We have worked with various partners in five African countries to establish poetry libraries. These are reading libraries for writers and lovers of poetry. The partners in Ghana, Gambia, Kenya, Uganda, and Botswana have found venues for these libraries and have been running these libraries with volunteer staff for the past two years. The APBF procures the books through donations from publishers, journals, arts organizations, and individuals and ships them to these countries. We also developed a cataloging system for each library, and we help organize these libraries. The libraries have become hubs for poetry readings, workshops, and much else. This has been the plan. 

So far we have made three shipments of about 400 to 500 books and journals to each library.  Contemporary works of poetry make up the bulk of these books. The plan is to work with the libraries to develop their own network of sources for books to add to their stacks. 

The logic is simple. Serious poets read poetry, all kinds of poetry. Poets who don’t have access to contemporary poetry are writing outside of community. Poets learn from one another, and we believe that poets can grow only by reading other poets. Africa is not a country, it is a continent, and in many ways, these libraries can be instrumental in getting poets from one nation to read the work of poets from another African nation. It is a simple project, modest but effective.
 
It feels as though you are really trying to build a community of writers and readers. 
 
The community has long existed, but a community struggles to benefit from its existence if it is not communicating. There are many literary festivals all over Africa, and African writers have been in contact with one other for a long time. We are not inventing a community. What we are doing, though, is adding to the community’s ability to communicate. Books will help do that. And the publishing of books is supported by the willful creation of a network of mentors that can strengthen the work being produced. The process of finding poets involves multiple conversations with poets from all over Africa and the diaspora, and it is beautiful to have writers recommending the work of other poets. I suppose this is what community is about. 
 
You’ve edited another book coming out later this year, A Bloom of Stones, which is a trilingual anthology of work about the Haitian earthquake. What was the impetus for the project, and how did you go about assembling it?
 
I was in Haiti a few months after the catastrophic earthquake in 2010, and I visited that country about five times over an eight-month period to report on the impact that the earthquake was having on people living with HIV/AIDS. As you know, I am also a journalist, and much of my work has involved reporting on HIV/AIDS. Well, as is my wont when I visit a new country, I try to find out what poets are doing. I was very interested in finding out how Haitian poets were responding to the earthquake. I had some good contacts in Haiti who helped me set up a soiree with Haitian poets while I was there. It was a powerful gathering. I vowed then to edit a volume of poems by Haitian poets responding to the earthquake. It has taken a few years to get this completed as it has involved a great deal of translation work. It is a beautiful volume. 
 
I suppose some people will read about all the work that you’re doing as an editor—and of course there’s more we haven’t even talked about—and wonder how you find time for your own writing.
 
There is more time than we imagine. I have never found myself feeling conflicted about my time. Here is the truth: if you get the impression that I am always working and running everything, I am afraid you might be misinformed. The truth is that I work with some really good people. 

My own writing is something I look forward to doing. I make time. It never really has to compete for attention. But who knows—maybe I should have published 40 books of poems by now instead of 20! No, the world does not need that.