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Singer-songwriter Adam Young of Owl City attends 2012 Arthur Ashe Kids' day at the USTA Billie Jean King National Tennis Center on August 25, 2012 in New York City.
In my day, the University of Michigan’s Avery Hopwood Award was considered a major prize for young writers.
Arthur Miller and I won two Hopwoods, award-winning Anglo-American poet Anne Stevenson (I’ve written about her here and here) won an astonishing three.
The program was endowed by Avery Hopwood, a popular American dramatist and member of the Michigan Class of 1905.
For former director Nicholas Delbanco’s remarks on the history of the program and the legacy of Avery Hopwood, written for the New York Times in 1998, see this PDF. I had stayed in touch with Andrea over the years, feeding tidbits to the Hopwood newsletter. Last weekend was my first trip back to Ann Arbor since I took home a diploma several decades ago. The distinctive Student Publication Building has the same smell it did all those years ago, minus the rubber cement. Three Dailyites from our set went on to get Pulitzers (so far), including the Washington Post‘s Eugene Robinson.
As newspapers shrink and, alas, sometimes die, the Michigan Daily, a 125-year-old student-run paper, is getting attention for sheer survival. Today, the Daily opens its 83-year-old building’s doors to nearly 400 alumni from across the country, including Pulitzer Prize winning journalists, academics, doctors and lawyers. Caffeine, ambition, camaraderie, and journalistic passion — but very little pay — have fueled the Daily for generations. After a whirlwind visit after so many years, it’s hard to describe all the emotions that were churned up in less than 72 hours. Covering campus, sports, local news, and culture, the Daily has been the object of both picketing and praise over its 125 years. After all, how many university rags ever got their own segment on Jon Stewart‘s Daily Show.
Bill Turque of the Washington Post and Lani Jordan, formerly of UPI, thumb through old volumes in the morgue. Pulitzer-prizewinning Ann Marie Lipinski of the Chicago Tribune and award-winning author Jim Tobin watching the last hot-type Daily come off the presses in the late 1970s. Humble Moi with photojournalist Pauline Lubens of the San Jose Mercury News, poet Marnie Heyn, and David Pap. Her thoughts on the subject took her thoughts back to Dublin – “improbably a city where lighting had struck. And then at the age of 18 I picked up a book called The Hidden Ireland by a writer I had never heard of, Daniel Corkery. The rest led her to “a life lived in and through language, with all its challenge and reward. Pulitzer prizewinning playwright Arthur Miller was born and reared in New York City – but he loved Ann Arbor, where he attended university.  Go figure.

A house where famous playwright Arthur Miller once lived when he attended the University of Michigan could be demolished if no one steps forward to buy it and relocate it. Below, a few more clips from the celebration of World Poetry Day at the Web of Stories, continuing my post here.
I certainly didn’t know the playwright Arthur Miller had championed the Lithuanian poet and written a letter to the Communist authorities to protect him. My friend Jane Leftwich Curry organized an evening at Santa Clara University, where she is a professor of political science, to honor the playwright, dissident, and first president of the Czech Republic (and last president of Czechoslovakia), Vaclav Havel, who died in December.
The Wednesday event served as my introduction to Havel’s plays as well as to the university itself – despite its proximity, I had never seen SCU, which has the old Santa Clara Mission at its heart.
Saum compared him to Thomas Jefferson, in his understanding that loyalties work best when they are to neighbors and communities, rather than monolithic states.
Change occurred so fast in Czechoslovokia that dissidents like Havel quickly found themselves catapulted to power. It is even more so today – what with students winning multiple awards (two awards was once uncommon), and with supplemental bonuses that resulted in one lucky student bagging $33,000 earlier this year.
I had kept up with her for so long that I rather expected her to be a wizened old lady of a zillion years rather than the smart and vibrant woman in the photo above. Andrea warmly recalled recent visits from our newest National Medal of the Arts winner Tobias Wolff and Irish poet Eavan Boland. At a university lacking a journalism department, 20-year-old editors miraculously “train” their younger cohorts, winning national recognition year after year.
From Rebecca Blumenstein, the Wall Street Journal’s deputy editor-in-chief, to Tony Schwartz, the author and business consultant who wrote Donald Trump’s The Art of the Deal to Sports Illustrated columnist Michael Rosenberg and Detroit Free Press editorial page editor Stephen Henderson, it’s a varied group of pilgrims. And even as eminent newspapers have gone digital or crumbled, the Daily, which is financially independent of U-M, continues to thrive. During my days as a student in Ann Arbor, I was awarded two – just like playwright Arthur Miller.
It was a wide street in a garrison city which was still under British rule and would remain so for fourteen years.
Their native culture is ancient, harking back to pre-Renaissance standards; but there is no inflow of books from outside to impregnate it with new thoughts. Even now I ask myself – why was I so moved by an assertion nobody could prove; about poets from another world, most of them lost to time and history? There are thousands of stories of this … one that comes to mind here in this setting, is that, when he was in prison with the Archbishop of Prague, he organized chess tournaments – not, as the archbishop said at his state funeral, because Havel really liked chess, but because it provided a cover for Archbishop Duka to say mass under the ruse that the prisoners were just playing chess. That the fault was shared by all and that each person had to account to himself for what he had done or not done. Hopwood bequeathed one-fifth of his considerable estate to the University of Michigan with the stipulation that it be used to encourage creative writing among students. Well, you can read excerpts from Eavan’s inspiring talk at the Hopwood Awards ceremony last spring here.
The dumb waiter had vanished, too, except in the memories of those who remember the linotype days.

The book follows the shattered narrative of the Cromwellian clearances in Ireland in the 18th century. I believe I was moved because it was the first time I had come across a bold statement about the importance of the artist ‘s life.
It also pays for a lot of tea and cookies, which the Hopwood Room still dispenses regularly during the fall and winter quarters on Thursdays. I was happy that I recognized Angell Hall immediately (one of the few buildings I recognized), walked up the front stairs to the door, and up stairs inside, and instinctively turned to the right. During the years that have passed since the first Hopwood Awards were made in 1931, we have been able to award a cumulative total of well over $3,000,000 to more than 3,200 gifted writers. Had I read the Hopwood newsletter more faithfully, I would have known that the beloved sister died in 2004, at 92, and served enthusiastically and tenaciously from 1971-1981. I spent a short while in the morgue over the weekend, thumbing through the oversize volumes.
Not a country that people – except for a few deep inside its secret societies – held out much hope for. It alights in their aftermath in a small part of Gaelic Munster, which is called Slieve Luachra, a mountainous area on the Cork Kerry border. It was the first time I had read that language and literature could testify in and through time; that such testimony could pierce the darkness of a history. You won’t be asked if you were working on a wonderful, moving piece of writing when you died.
Former winners include Arthur Miller, John Ciardi, Mary Gaitskill, Robert Hayden, Lawrence Kasdan, Jane Kenyon, Frank O’Hara, Marge Piercy, Edmund White, and Nancy Willard.
I would also have known she did her dissertation on that much-married diehard Puritan John Milton. It receives no funding from the university to run a full-circulation daily (five days a week now, six days a week back in my day). Decades ago, the student-run outfit even paid for its own building – the familiar 1930s-style brick landmark that offered nickel cokes in thick green glass bottles. Pigs, slugs, turtles… lots of nature words for a place that was as far from the outdoor world as could be imagined – especially the underground kingdom on the floor below us. That they were witnesses to the destruction of that language and the breaking apart of the Bardic order. You won’t even be asked if it was the one piece of writing you would have been working on if you had known your time would be up when it was finished – I think only poor Soren K.

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