Paul Scott Derrick (Spain)
A Life of Significant Toil
I first met Richard in the spring of 2006 when he came to the University of Valencia to give a poetry reading. I had heard a good number of poets read their work before, but there was something different here. As he recited selections from Black Light, In a Time of Drought, Tree and other volumes, I realized that this was the real thing. It wasn’t just the poetry that impacted me so strongly. The rich, melodious voice, the calmly enthusiastic demeanor, the deeply probing look in his eyes: they all spoke of a genuine force of personality and original creativity that quickly won me over.
Correspondence by email followed that visit and an acquaintance grew into friendship. I suspect that this is a typical pattern for him. One of Richard’s many talents is his ability to connect with people and to cultivate warm personal bonds. The contributions to this birthday tribute are a testament to that.
We’ve only seen each other twice since then—once more in Valencia and once in Cambridge. But over these years we have worked on several projects together. I have also helped to translate Black Light into Spanish and have read all of Richard’s subsequent works. My admiration for that work, both poetry and prose, and the mind that produced it, has only grown with time.
But as well as the quality of his poetry, I want to talk here about the quality of his humanity. We all know that generosity, emotional openness and love are important elements in his poems, and that’s because they are important components of his character and life. Unfortunately, that can’t be said of all poets. Too many of them master the language but not the ego, know the heart but cannot control their own emotions. This isn’t the case with Richard.
Let me give a personal example to make my meaning clear. Last year I was diagnosed with a serious and potentially life-threatening illness. When I told Richard about it his response was immediate, affectionate and reassuring. During the period of my treatment, marked by much uncertainty and many moments of vulnerability, Richard’s email messages gave me unflagging emotional support. And although he works constantly and intensely on his writing and maintains a large volume of correspondence with many people from all over the world, he never once failed to respond to my emails during that time with sincere interest for my condition and words of heartening encouragement. His care and attention were a reassuring comfort.
For all of these reasons, and more, it is a pleasure to be a part of this birthday celebration for a man who has devoted his life to serious labor and love—a life of significant toil.
In more ways than you may know, Richard, you have brought joy to many—to the readers of your poetry and to those who know you. Happy 80th birthday, and thank you from the heart for the gift of your poems and the blessing of your friendship.
Back to introduction here.
Next contribution here.