54: Ever Since Darwin, 1977, by Stephen Jay Gould (1941–2002)
I read so much of Stephen Gould—
Those essays were superior.
And though I was inferior
In science, Gould me coolly schooled.
Of course I didn’t understand,
Well, everything he wrote about.
But through his work I would find out
’Bout evolution (secondhand).
I wrote to him—and he wrote back—
About a novel set back when—
A prehistoric tale—our kin!
By that old writer: London, Jack.*
That letter now hangs on my wall—
It’s framed so that the thing will last
No matter how much time has passed—
A Gould-ian kind of curtain call.
He died so young—it’s just not fair
That people who have much to teach
Are soon so far beyond our reach—
We need to breathe their air so rare.
*Before Adam, 1907; Gould replied
to my letter about Before Adam on July
13, 1999
No comments:
Post a Comment