Grace A. Poynter
Dr. Julie Steward
English 211
27 September 2020
Stopping to Smell the Dirt and Dried Codfish
On my bedroom shelf, I have placed a box of items that would have zero significance to people other than me. Random nonsense is what most people would call a 2011 Colonial Williamsburg ticket, a few newspapers, a memorial card, and a letter from my favorite teacher. When I look through this box, I experience a wide range of emotions from amusement and pride to lament and compassion. Sometimes I want the emotional rollercoaster it takes me on – I enjoy remembering the good, bad, and ugly that got me where I am today. Other than me, only special people get to see what’s in this box since each item holds a memory behind it. It is not only my memories, but it is my way to let people into my life by explaining what these objects mean to me. For many, poetry is their way to express these same thoughts. In “Ars Poetica #100: I Believe,” Elizabeth Alexander outlines the criteria of good poetry as insignificant items or events becoming significant to better understand ourselves and others. Judith Ortiz Cofer’s poem “The Latin Deli: An Ars Poetica” paints a beautiful scene to fit all these criteria.
In “The Latin Deli: An Ars Poetica,” Cofer takes a seemingly insignificant place and turns it into a warm and inviting home. Averageness is portrayed through visual images such as the “formica counter” and “an ancient register,” as well as “a woman of no-age who was never pretty” (Cofer l. 1; l. 3; l. 8). These mundane images are paired with olfactory imagery of “dried codfish” that I imagine to be an unwanted, unpleasant smell (Cofer l. 5). Cofer has painted a
piece of art that most people would walk by without a second look, but Alexander’s “Ars Poetica #100: I Believe” explains these poems are an extravagant work of art if we look closer. Alexander writes, “Poetry is what you find / in the dirt in the corner,” (Alexander ll. 9-10). Dirt in the corner is usually unwanted and sometimes ignored, but that dirt also has a story. Where did it come from? What has it “seen” in its time in the corner? Stopping to smell the roses is easy but stopping to view the dirt in a new light is more difficult. Alexander continues that poetry is what you “overhear on the bus, God / in the details, the only way” (Alexander ll. 11-12). The conversations we overhear are sometimes bland, but if we listen closely, we could possibly hear something as glorious and magnificent as the details of God. Cofer’s “The Latin Deli” takes a seemingly average deli that has probably been overlooked and maybe unwanted for its mediocrity, pulls it apart, and transforms it into something glorious.
The emotion in the poem is another reason “The Latin Deli” meets the “good” criteria. The woman in the story does not just cook the food and clean the deli, but she is
selling canned memories
while listening to the Puerto Ricans complain
that it would be cheaper to fly to San Juan
than to buy a pound of Bustelo coffee here, (Cofer ll. 9-12).
The use of enjambment in line nine makes the reader pause to think about what canned memories are – for some of us it might be cozy memories of tomato soup or possibly dreadful memories of green beans. The image of home and family is being created through Cofer’s diction while describing the deli and the woman who works there. The first words of the poem “Presiding over a formica counter” trigger our memories to think of our own mothers or grandmothers who are often the head-honchos of our busy kitchens during family gatherings (Cofer l. 1). Like a mother listening to her children, she is listening to the Puerto Ricans complaining, talking about returning to Havana and making money in El Norte (Cofer l. 10; l. 14; ll. 16-17). The woman is generating the comfort they want, utilizing “maternal interest” and giving an understanding smile as they talk about their dreams (Cofer l. 18; l. 21; ll. 23-24). Even though the products are not cheap, the comfort of a mother figure and memories of home are what the people come for. In Elizabeth Alexander’s “Ars Poetica #100: I Believe,” she writes, “Poetry (and now my voice is rising) / is not all love, love, love, / and I’m sorry the dog died” (Alexander ll. 14-16). Good poetry does not solely focus on the fabulously happy and unbearably sad emotions. It should also spotlight the in between moments, such as the idea of being comforted from the aching feeling of wanting to go home.
Another way that Cofer has written a good poem is that the speaker is using the setting to understand the people she is observing. The unnamed speaker in “The Latin Deli” is essentially observing the people who are visiting the shop. The reader can assume the speaker is inside the deli due to olfactory imagery, the smell of “dried codfish,” but they are looking in as someone who does not seem to belong with this group (Cofer l. 5). The “they” diction such as “the Puerto Ricans,” “Cubans,” and “Mexicans” suggest the speaker is not a part of them, but instead is an outsider with an inside view (Cofer l. 10; l. 13; l. 16). The deli is a seemingly ordinary place, but the speaker is observing the people to have a deeper understanding of why they enjoy going here. In Elizabeth Alexander’s “Ars Poetica” poem, she writes, “Poetry (here I hear myself the loudest) / is the human voice, / and are we not of interest to each other?” (Alexander ll. 17-19). Curiosity about other humans frequently fills us, and we sometimes want to know what makes another person tick. Because poetry can exquisitely paint such a wide range of emotion other than simply happy or sad, it is an easy way to pry into other peoples’ heads and hearts. After the speaker takes the time to examine the reasoning behind the people visiting this ordinary deli, they begin to understand that it is not the food or the deli itself that the frequent patrons love, but rather the love and care they seem to be receiving from the surrounding comfort-seekers.
The deli and the woman could have easily been overlooked had the speaker, our observer, not taken a closer look. This insignificant place and person have been picked apart, transformed into bigger pictures of home and comfort. It is a way for an outsider to view the inside for a moment, to see what drives another person to this deli. Judith Ortiz Cofer has painted a picture to show us what we can see when we look a little closer at seemingly insignificant items or events. The poem has done exactly what Elizabeth Alexander says a good poem should do by forcing us to pause, look at the small stuff, feel different emotions that just the mediocre happy or sad, and let ourselves feel the emotions of others.
Works Cited
Alexander, Elizabeth. “Ars Poetica #100: I Believe.” The Norton Introduction to Literature,
edited by Kelly J. Mays, W. W. Norton & Company, 2018, pp. 764-765.
Cofer, Judith Oritz. “The Latin Deli: An Ars Poetica.” The Norton Introduction to Literature,
edited by Kelly J. Mays, W. W. Norton & Company, 2018, p. 825
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