Culture
Meet the guy who has pitched for five MLB teams in 2024: Sliders
For Mike Baumann, it started the same way as his first seven seasons in professional baseball. He was, as always, employed by the Baltimore Orioles, the team that drafted him in the third round in 2017. He wanted to help a familiar organization while advancing his own career.
“My expectation was to take a step forward with the Orioles and to be a part of the bullpen,” Baumann said this week. “I was really excited. I was really looking forward to it. I didn’t perform like I wanted to, things just didn’t go my way and that’s the nature of the business.”
The business, though, has treated Baumann in a way that only one other player in the history of the sport has been treated. Baumann has appeared for five major league teams in 2024: the Orioles, Seattle Mariners, San Francisco Giants, Los Angeles Angels and Miami Marlins. He’s made so many stops, he should have his own concert-tour T-shirt:
Baltimore, March 28-May 17
Baumann played his entire career with the Orioles until he was traded to the Mariners on May 17. (Tommy Gilligan / USA Today)
Seattle, May 23-July 11
His stint with the Mariners only lasted seven weeks. (D. Ross Cameron / USA Today)
San Francisco (One Night Only!) – July 26
Baumann gave up two runs on three hits in two-thirds of an inning for the Giants against the Rockies. (Stan Szeto / USA Today)
Los Angeles, July 31-August 22
His tenure with the Angels consisted of 10 appearances. (Mark Goldman / Icon Sportswire via Getty Images)
Miami, August 27-present
Baumann has now been with the Marlins for 10 days. (John Hefti / USA Today)
According to the Elias Sports Bureau, Baumann’s busy itinerary ties him with pitcher Oliver Drake (2018) for most MLB teams in a single season. Twenty others have played for four teams in a season, including relievers Yohan Ramirez and Matt Bowman this year. But only Drake and Baumann have made it to five.
“It’s been a roller coaster of emotions, going from highs to lows, but every time I’ve been claimed, I’ve been grateful,” Baumann said. “I’ve been given a ton of opportunities, and I’ve been fortunate for that.”
Zipping through five teams in one season takes several converging factors. Typically, the player needs a skill that teams want; a minimal salary; success in the past and less success in the present.
Baumann fits every category. He throws 96 mph and earns $749,000. He was 10-1 with a 3.76 ERA in 60 games for Baltimore last season, but has a 7.26 ERA since leaving the Orioles in May.
Most importantly, Baumann is out of minor-league options, meaning he cannot be sent to the minors without passing through waivers. Appearances aside, that made the stakes much different for him this season, especially with a strong team.
“I knew I was out of options, and I knew the Orioles had a ton of good depth,” Baumann said. “So going into the season, I told myself I’ve got to perform if I want to be a part of it.”
After a shaky start to the season, Baumann pitched well in his final six outings for Baltimore. But he was designated for assignment when starter Grayson Rodriguez returned from the injured list in mid-May, and the Orioles worked out a trade with the Mariners to send him on his way.
“I wasn’t too surprised,” Baumann said. “I knew I was kind of the last guy in the bullpen. They had a lot of good arms in Triple A and some guys coming back from injury. So it was bittersweet; I loved the Orioles. But when I found out it was Seattle, they were a first-place team at the time and I was really looking forward to the opportunity.”
In his second game as a Mariner, Baumann worked a scoreless 10th inning to beat the rival Houston Astros. But with a 5.51 ERA for Seattle in 18 games, he lost his roster spot again and was traded to the Giants for cash.
With San Francisco, Baumann reunited with pitcher Sean Hjelle, a former teammate at Mahtomedi (Minn.) High School. The fun lasted for two-thirds of an inning against Colorado on July 26, and then it was onto the Angels, who acquired Baumann for cash.
“That one happened so fast,” he said of his Giants tenure. “I didn’t get time to settle in or even get to know a lot of people’s names.”
Five days after facing the Colorado Rockies in his Giants debut, Baumann faced them again in his first game with the Angels. After 10 games with the Angels (and a 6.75 ERA), he joined the Marlins and debuted on Aug. 27 against — who else? — the Rockies.
If they didn’t know better, they’d think he was stalking them. But Baumann just goes where teams tell him to go, without getting too attached.
“I’ve been living in hotels, checking in and out,” he said. “It’s been the easiest way rather than actually getting apartment leases. I’ve kind of been narrowing down my suitcases. I’ve been traveling really light.”
If he’s looking for a higher meaning to all this, Baumann got it with the waiver claim by the Marlins on August 25. When he found out, he was home in Jacksonville, Fla., with his wife, Nicole, who was eight months pregnant with their first child and due this month. To join a team in the same state — albeit a five-hour drive from home — was an ideal fit.
“When we were out West, it was kind of like, ‘Am I going to be able to make the birth of my own child?’” Baumann said. “I remember I was so excited because after going back and forth across the country, I could just go down to Miami.”
The Marlins liked Baumann’s velocity (not just on the fastball, but also his 92 mph slider) and his knuckle curve. With better control, they believe Baumann could be a keeper. He’s had four outings for Miami through Thursday, two scoreless and two in which he allowed three runs.
It’s a fitting performance for an historically uneven season that began on one coast, traversed another and wound up close to home.
Everyday Willy A
Adames, on a power surge, eyes 162
Willy Adames celebrated his 29th birthday on Monday by homering in his fifth game in a row, tying a Milwaukee Brewers club record. The five-game stretch included 11 RBIs, and even when the streak ended on Tuesday, Adames drove in another run to make him the first National Leaguer with 100 RBIs this season.
For Adames — who is positioning himself for a lucrative winter in free agency — another number might matter more: 162 games played. Adames has started every Brewers game at shortstop since Sept. 27, and he hopes to make it all the way this season.
“It’s fun to be out there every day, competing with the boys and just having fun,” Adames said. “I’ve never done it, so I want to do it. I keep fighting with the guys here that want to give me an off-day, but we’re trying to do it this year — and hopefully we can continue to play all the games in the postseason.”
Adames led the National League in RBIs with 100 heading into Thursday’s games. (Katie Stratman / USA Today)
Adames, whose career high in games is 152, is one of seven players who have played every game this season, with the Atlanta Braves’ Matt Olson and Marcell Ozuna, the New York Mets’ Pete Alonso and Francisco Lindor, the Philadelphia Phillies’ Nick Castellanos and the Kansas City Royals’ Bobby Witt Jr.
Players sometimes take a break once playoff spots are decided, but it’s worth watching to see how many get to 162. The last time seven players appeared in all 162 games was 2007, with Jeff Francoeur, Carlos Lee, Juan Pierre, Jimmy Rollins, Grady Sizemore, Delmon Young and Ryan Zimmerman.
The majors’ longest active streak belongs to Olson, Atlanta’s first baseman, at 598 games. It appears that Cal Ripken Jr.’s record of 2,632, which stretched from 1982 to 1998, is safe.
“I think that’s going to be forever there,” Adames said. “I mean, playing two seasons (of consecutive games) is impressive. Imagine playing 2,000-plus.”
Gimme Five
Five bits of ballpark wisdom
Braves catching coach Sal Fasano on the masters of the position
For most of Sal Fasano’s formative years, a baseball team in his hometown sent a catcher to the All-Star Game. He was a Chicago kid in the 1980s, and if the White Sox’ Carlton Fisk didn’t make it, the Cubs’ Jody Davis usually did. Fasano paid attention to them and other standouts, especially Bob Boone, who made the punishing position seem alluring.
“I always had an affinity for catching,” Fasano said. “It’s like in football, I was an offensive lineman. Nobody loves offensive linemen. I do, and I love catching. I love the backbone. And that’s what we call them: the backbone.”
Fasano, 53, served nine teams as a backbone backup from 1996 through 2008. His finest contemporaries, he said, were Jorge Posada, Jason Varitek and Bengie Molina. They combined for just three Gold Gloves, but invariably led their teams to the World Series.
“Some guys always win,” Fasano said, “and there’s a reason.”
Fasano (left) with Braves catcher Sean Murphy (right) in June. (David Butler II / USA Today)
The Braves have always won since Fasano joined their staff in 2018, the start of their six-year reign atop the National League East. Fasano, who also managed and coached in the Toronto Blue Jays’ and Angels’ farm systems, is the catching coach for the Braves, who are now chasing the Phillies in the East.
Both teams’ success, Fasano said, has a lot to do with catchers coaxing the best from their pitchers.
“Look at what (J.T.) Realmuto’s done with their pitching staff, and look at what our guys have done with our pitchers,” Fasano said. “You’ve got to have guys who know how to control the pitching staff — because it all revolves around that dude in the middle.”
Here are some of Fasano’s insights about five aspects of catching, and who has done it best.
Receiving: “The way we did it in our day, it was treated differently. You didn’t want to move the ball very much, you wanted to keep your body still. It was a different technique, and I think Tyler Flowers became revolutionary. I mean, people caught on one knee before; Manny Sanguillen, Tony Peña, they did their thing and basically made it unique, so it was almost like their art form. … But Tyler Flowers came in and decided to say, ‘Hey, I might be able to create value for myself by stealing strikes.’ So when he went onto one knee, he basically revolutionized the whole system of catcher, because everybody does it now. Teams were studying what he was doing, so when I got hired over here, I was like, ‘You do your mechanic, I’ll learn what you’re doing.’ And then we tried to implement it throughout the system, and we’ve had a lot of success doing it.”
Quick release: “When you watch Realmuto, he’s one of the best athletes I’ve ever seen, (with) probably the best exchange I’ve ever seen in my life. Last year we broke him down for the playoffs and he’s averaging 1.78 to second base. Nobody’s doing that. Pudge (Rodriguez) might have been closest to that. Pudge was the best thrower in my era, like a 1.8. It’s just a math equation. And J.T., in this era, there’s not too many guys like that.”
Balls in the dirt: “If blocking was at zero when I played, blocking is at, like, plus-20 now. Guys block way better. I think Sean Murphy does a tremendous job. He’s one of my favorites when it comes to blocking. In the old days, when we had two knees up, it was really hard to get your knees down at the same time. That’s why being on one knee is actually easier. If both knees hit (the ground) off-time, it stiffens your body. Think about it: if you jump and land one foot at a time, your body’s actually going to vibrate, your eyes are going to vibrate, it’s chaos for your body. On one knee, it’s a slide, so you’re calmer. You can absorb the ball better, you can do a lot of things. But blocking is really a state of mind. I don’t care what technique you have, guys who love blocking are really good at blocking.”
Plays at the plate: “I watched Mike Macfarlane take beatings at home plate — but guys were out. You’ve gotta protect yourself, catch the ball, put the tag on, and if all else fails, complete the play. Those are my rules. Mike was really, really good at protecting home plate. I saw him get crushed by so many people. It was really difficult to watch. I’d say, ‘Mike, man, how do you do that?’ He said, ‘I just want to get into a turtleback. You know you’re gonna get hit and you’re gonna roll.’ It’s against the rules now if you’re in the lane, so we’ve had to make amendments to how we (protect) home plate, because we have to give them a lane. How can we put our left knee down and still create a lane? Or if it’s done early enough, I can take away the lane? And that’s what a lot of people don’t understand. So the little idiosyncrasies of what we can do behind the plate, a lot of people don’t know the rules. There’s a lot of practice and a lot of technique, and that’s what spring training is for.”
Communicating with pitchers: “I was doing catching (instruction) for the Blue Jays, and I remember seeing Dan Jansen, he’s 18 years old at the time and he’s walking to the clubhouse and surrounded by three pitchers, and they’re just having a nice conversation. And I’m like, ‘Oooh, that guy’s born to be a catcher.’ We had just drafted him, he was raw, we didn’t know he was going to be a big league catcher. But once you realize, ‘Oh my gosh, his gift is communication,’ then I don’t care how he catches, I don’t care how he throws it, let’s nurture that. When you give him information, is he able to make the pitchers better? Because that’s really what our position is: can you make the people around you better? That’s the sign of greatness. It’s like Travis (d’Arnaud). We were in Double A, and Travis isn’t the most rah-rah, pump-your-fist kind of guy. He’s kind of like a comedian on the field, he has a good time. But when he has a man-to-man conversation, it’s always in the clubhouse, and he’s always talking to them on a personal level. So his personal relationships with pitchers are huge. Think about when he took the Mets to the World Series with all those young pitchers, and then he did it with us, too. I mean, does he throw the best? No. Does he catch the best? No. Does he block the best? No. But does he call a great game? Yes, and he’s able to get the most out of his pitchers.”
Off the Grid
A historical detour from the Immaculate Grid
Cliff Dapper – Dodgers catcher
In the long and lively history of the Dodgers’ franchise — from Brooklyn to Los Angeles, as the Bridegrooms, Superbas, Robins and Dodgers — 209 players have suited up as catcher. The one with the highest batting average (minimum 10 plate appearances) is also the only one to have been traded for a broadcaster. Cliff Dapper, then, made for a really fun answer on Monday’s grid.
After three seasons with his hometown Hollywood Stars in the old Pacific Coast League, Dapper dazzled with Brooklyn for eight games near the start of the 1942 season, going 7-for-18 (.471) with a homer and nine RBIs in eight games. He spent the next three years in military service and never returned to the majors.
In 1948, though, Dapper was still a Dodger farmhand when a need arose in the Brooklyn broadcast booth. The venerable voice of the team, Red Barber, had a bleeding ulcer and the Dodgers — always shrewd judges of talent — fixed their ears on Ernie Harwell, who was working for the minor-league Atlanta Crackers on WSB, a station with a powerful signal.
The Dodgers wanted Harwell but the Crackers needed something in return. That something turned out to be Dapper, who would spend 1949 as player-manager for the Crackers. Harwell, meanwhile, went on to a Hall of Fame career in the booth, spending most of his 55 major league seasons with the Detroit Tigers.
To mark Harwell’s retirement in 2002, the Tigers invited Dapper to a ceremony at Comerica Park. It was the first time the two had ever met.
“It was the biggest thrill I have ever had in baseball,” Dapper, then 82, told his local paper, the North County Times in Escondido, Calif., after the event. “I still feel honored that I was traded for a great radio announcer. I’m just some rinky-dink.”
Dapper explained that Branch Rickey, the celebrated Dodgers general manager, was concerned that the trade would be embarrassing for him. In fact, Dapper said, he was eager to get a chance to manage, and thrilled to finally meet Harwell so many years later.
“He said to me, ‘I really appreciate you coming back here, Cliff,’” Dapper said. “He is such a gracious man.”
Harwell died in 2010 at age 92, a year before Dapper died at 91. The Tigers honored Harwell with a statue at the ceremony when the two met.
“When I see a statue, I think of history, of Washington and Lincoln, generals Grant and Lee,” Harwell said that day, as reported by the Detroit Free Press. “I don’t deserve a statue or part of history. But let me tell you, from my heart, I’m proud this statue is me.”
Classic clip
Mark McGwire on “The Simpsons”
Monday marks the 26th anniversary of Mark McGwire’s 62nd home run in 1998, which made him the first player to break Roger Maris’ single-season record. It’s a moment viewed much differently now, but at the time — when we really should have known better — it was hailed as a soaring triumph.
With that, naturally, came television appearances for McGwire. In 1999, he appeared in Helen Hunt’s bedroom on “Mad About You,” wearing only a pillow. He was also on “The Simpsons” that year, distracting the ever-gullible citizens of Springfield with his home run prowess.
McGwire — dispatched by MLB to recover evidence that it was monitoring the town — utters a truly remarkable line, given everything that would surface about his use of steroids. It’s another celebrated instance of “The Simpsons” supposedly predicting the future.
In 1998, when the league and the media should have aggressively challenged the players’ association on the necessity of drug testing (“privacy” was the union’s rationale), we instead built up McGwire and Sammy Sosa into larger-than-life Greek Gods.
As it turned out, McGwire’s big line on “The Simpsons” said it all: “Do you want to know the terrifying truth,” he asked, “or do you want to see me sock a few dingers?”
(Top photo of Mike Baumann: Lachlan Cunningham / Getty Images)
Culture
Poetry Challenge Day 3: W.H. Auden, The Poet and His Technique
Now that we’ve memorized the first half of our poem, let’s learn a little more about the man who wrote it. (Haven’t memorized anything yet? Click here to start at the beginning.)
For most of his life, Wystan Hugh Auden (1907-73) was a star. He was widely read, quoted, argued over and gossiped about, achieving a level of fame that few writers now — and not many then — could contemplate. His New York Times obituary did not hesitate to call him “the foremost poet of his generation.”
Celebrity of that kind is ephemeral, but Auden’s words have continued to circulate in the half century since his death. Maybe you’ve heard some of them before. In the 1994 film “Four Weddings and a Funeral,” his poem “Funeral Blues” is recited by Matthew (John Hannah) over the casket of his lover, Gareth (Simon Callow).
In the Gen-X touchstone “Before Sunrise” (1995), Jesse (Ethan Hawke) regales Celine (Julie Delpy) with an impression of Dylan Thomas reading Auden’s “As I Walked Out One Evening.”
In both these scenes, the characters use Auden’s poetry to give voice to a longing for which they otherwise might not have words. Auden’s poetry is often useful in that way. It speaks to recognizable human occasions, and it isn’t always all about him.
“The More Loving One” might not be something you’d quote at a funeral or on a date, but it is almost effortlessly quotable — the perfect expression of a thought you never knew you had:
Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.
Ken Burns, filmmaker
The word “I” occurs five times in this stanza, but we don’t know much about the person speaking. His personality is camouflaged and revealed by craft.
Auden, born in the northern English cathedral city of York, began practicing that craft as a schoolboy, and honed it at Oxford. Not long after graduating in 1928, he was anointed by critics and readers as the great hope of modern English poetry. A charismatic, divisive figure, he gathered acolytes, imitators and haters.
He swam in the intellectual and ideological crosscurrents of the 1930s, drawing Marxism, psychoanalysis and mystical nationalism into his writing. Assimilating a daunting array of literary influences — Old English and Ancient Greek, French chansons and Icelandic sagas — he forged a poetic personality that was bold, confiding and seductive.
His love poems of that era were candid, discreet dispatches from a calendar of feverish entanglements, wrenching breakups and one-night stands, usually with other men. He also wrote about the feverish politics of the time — class conflict; the rise of fascism; the Spanish Civil War — in ringing rhetoric he later disavowed.
In 1939 Auden moved to America, acquiring U.S. citizenship after World War II. In New York he fell in love with Chester Kallman, a young American writer who became his life partner.
It was a complicated relationship, starting as a passionate affair and enduring through decades of domestic companionship and creative collaboration. Kallman’s refusal to be sexually exclusive wounded Auden, a dynamic that poignantly shades this poem’s most memorable couplet:
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Yiyun Li, writer
In America, Auden distanced himself from the radical politics of his earlier career and embraced Anglican Christianity. His intellectual preoccupations shifted toward religion and existentialism — to the kinds of big questions we think about late at night, or when we look to the sky.
Making the leap from wunderkind to grand old man without seeming to stop in middle age, he became a mentor for several generations of younger poets. He was a prolific and punctual contributor of reviews and essays to various publications, including this one, for which he wrote a rave of J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Fellowship of the Ring” in 1954.
Through it all, Auden devoted fanatical attention to the finer points of poetic technique. His notebooks are full of numbers, word lists and markings that show just how deep this commitment went. He counted every syllable, measured every stress.
He gathered rhymes and other words with a lexicographer’s zeal and a crossword puzzler’s precision.
The third stanza of “The More Loving One” is a miniature showcase of Auden’s skill. Of the four epigrams arrayed before us, it may be the most technically perfect.
Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.
W.H. Auden, poet
The rhythm is flawless, without an extra syllable or an accent out of place. The grammar is also fastidious. Here is a single sentence, springloaded with equivocation, beginning with one idea and sliding toward its opposite.
This quatrain is the poem’s ideal formal representation of itself, a kind of proof of concept: four lines of impeccable iambic tetrameter in an AABB rhyme scheme. The by-the-book regularity of this stanza should give you a leg up in memorizing it, and you can test yourself below!
But the rest of the poem is an argument against perfection, just as it is a celebration of uncertainty and humility — as we’ll see tomorrow.
Play a game to learn it by heart. Need more practice? Listen to Ada Limón, Matthew McConaughey, W.H. Auden and others recite our poem.
Question 1/6
Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
Tap a word above to fill in the highlighted blank.Your first task: Learn the first two lines!
Let’s start with the first couplet in this stanza. Fill in the rhyming words.
Ready for another round? Try your hand at the 2025 Poetry Challenge.
Edited by Gregory Cowles, Alicia DeSantis and Nick Donofrio. Additional editing by Emily Eakin,
Joumana Khatib, Emma Lumeij and Miguel Salazar. Design and development by Umi Syam. Additional
game design by Eden Weingart. Video editing by Meg Felling. Photo editing by Erica Ackerberg.
Illustration art direction by Tala Safie.
Illustrations by Daniel Barreto.
Text and audio recording of “The More Loving One,” by W.H. Auden, copyright © by the Estate of
W.H. Auden. Reprinted by permission of Curtis Brown, Ltd. Photograph accompanying Auden recording
from Imagno/Getty Images.
Culture
Book Review: ‘Permanence,’ by Sophie Mackintosh
PERMANENCE, by Sophie Mackintosh
Sophie Mackintosh’s novels are always speculative in some way, with either the author or her characters forging a world governed by its own logic and rules. In their boldness and their ability to convey the violence of patriarchy, they recall the work of Jacqueline Harpman — not only the cherished “I Who Have Never Known Men,” but also “Orlanda,” her wild riff on Virginia Woolf’s “Orlando.”
Like Harpman, Mackintosh has a spare and confident hand. Her work is sometimes described as dreamlike; certainly, its contours are sketched with rapidity and confidence and relatively little detail. Her prose operates according to the same principle, at once lyrical and precise, like this from her second novel, “Blue Ticket”: “On the ground was a dead rabbit, disemboweled. Still fresh, the dark loops of its insides glistening like jam.”
When Mackintosh writes about masculine power, she does so in a way that articulates both its seductions and its terrors. Her newest novel, “Permanence,” is less explicitly concerned with the structure of patriarchy, but it has the same erotic charge as her earlier work, the same preoccupation with social prohibitions and the thrill that comes from breaking them.
Like “Blue Ticket,” “Permanence” turns on a highly pronounced binary. In “Blue Ticket,” adolescent girls are issued either a blue or white ticket on the day of their first period. A white ticket denotes a future of marriage and children, a blue ticket one of work — even, it seems, a career. The divide is stark and self-evidently faulty, its coarseness an expression of the brutalizing regime the characters are trapped in.
“Permanence” features a similar opposition, neatly delineated. Clara and Francis are conducting an illicit affair. One morning, they wake up in an alternate reality where they are openly living together. The novel shuttles between these two worlds, one ordinary and familiar, the other a curdled paradise for adulterers.
The thinness of this “city of impermanence” — “fluid, cohesive and yet disparate” — emerges at once. The sky is “uncannily blue,” the newspaper bears no date, the edge of the city is marked by “a slick ring of water, as far as the eye could see.”
Still, a boundary cannot keep the other world from seeping in. Initially, elegantly, this is a problem in the structure of desire. Having been provided the life they dreamed of, in which their longing for each other is fully met, Clara and Francis begin to experience, to their uneasy surprise, boredom and discontent.
Without absence, the intensity of their desire for each other wanes. They even begin, or at least Francis does, to long for the relief of their ordinary life: “Another day ahead of them of petting, giggling, lying around. It seemed insubstantial suddenly, though only the day before he had felt he could do it forever.”
Soon enough, it becomes clear that the problem between Francis and Clara doesn’t lie in the outside impediments of the world they live in, but in their relationship itself. Francis remains troublingly himself — a married father of a small child, reluctant to leave his family, however much he is in love with Clara: “He did love her, and he did want to be with her. … But he already had reality elsewhere, reality which he sometimes felt trapped by, he would admit, but which he could not truly imagine cutting loose.”
“Permanence” might seem like an outlier in the current array of articles and books about open marriages and polyamory, and at first glance the line of distinction between the two worlds, much like the division between blue and white tickets, seems almost old-fashioned. But as Mackintosh persuasively illustrates, the familiar emotions of jealousy, infatuation and eventually indifference — these persist and can flourish in any relationship, however free of prohibition.
“You want this,” Clara tells herself, and then, “You no longer want this,” as it occurs to her that “maybe it was in absence that they loved each other best, and most honestly.”
In her work, Mackintosh devises scenarios that are bold and almost aggressively simplified. But her terrain is complexity and contradiction, and in her hands these oppositions twist and turn in on themselves.
It’s hardly a surprise when the central character in “Blue Ticket” decides to eschew her designation and have a child, declaring, “True and false were no longer opposing binaries. My body was speaking to me in a language I had not heard before.” Nor is it especially startling when discontent chases Clara and Francis from one world to the other, unraveling their relationship.
What is more disquieting is the surreptitious ease with which Mackintosh’s speculative worlds start to align with our own, allowing the reader to see how so many of the old prohibitions and conventions — around choice, around marriage — remain, somehow, firmly in place.
That moment of recognition, in a landscape that is startlingly alien, is the source of Mackintosh’s power as a writer.
PERMANENCE | By Sophie Mackintosh | Avid Reader Press | 240 pp. | $28
Culture
Poetry Challenge Day 2: Love, How It Works and What It Means
Maybe you woke up this morning haunted by the first four lines of W.H. Auden’s “The More Loving One” — or tickled by its tongue-in-cheek handling of existential dread. (Not ringing any bells? Click here to begin the Poetry Challenge).
This is a love poem. Perhaps that seems like an obvious thing to say about a poem with “Loving” in its title, but there isn’t much romance in the opening stanza.
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.
Ada Limón, poet
Nonetheless, the poem soon makes clear that love is very much on its mind.
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
David Sedaris, writer
The polished informality gives the impression of a decidedly cerebral speaker — someone who’s looking at love philosophically, thinking about how it works and what it means.
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Reginald Dwayne Betts, poet
Musing this way — arguing in this fashion — he stands in a long line of playful, thoughtful poetic lovers going back at least to the 16th century. He sounds a bit like Christopher Marlowe’s passionate shepherd:
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
Auden’s poem, like Marlowe’s, is written in four-beat lines:
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
Josh Radnor, actor
And it features strong end rhymes:
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Samantha Harvey, writer
These tetrameter couplets represent a long-established poetic love language. Not too serious or sappy, but with room for both earnestness and whimsy. And even for professions of the opposite of love, as in this nursery rhyme, adapted from a 17th-century epigram:
I do not like thee, Doctor Fell
The reason why I cannot tell.
But this I know and know full well
I do not like thee, Doctor Fell.
There is some of this anti-love spirit in Auden’s poem too, but it mainly follows a general rule of love poetry: The person speaking is usually the more loving one.
This makes sense. To write a poem requires effort, art, inspiration. To speak in verse is to tease, to cajole, to seduce, all actions that suggest an excess of desire. That’s why it’s conventional to refer to the “I” in a poem like this as the Lover and the “you” as the Beloved. The line “Let the more loving one be me” could summarize a lot of the love poetry of the last few thousand years.
But who, in this case, is the beloved? This isn’t a poem to the stars, but about them. Or maybe a poem that uses the stars as a conceit and our complicated feelings about them as a screen for other difficult emotions.
What the stars have to do with love is a tricky question. The answer may just be that the poem assumes a relationship and then plays with the implications of its assumption.
This kind of play also has a long history. Since love is both abstract and susceptible to cliché, poets are eager to liken it to everything else under the sun: birds, bees, planets, stars, the movement of the tides and the cycle of the seasons. Andrew Marvell’s “Definition of Love,” from the 1600s, wraps its ardor in math:
As lines, so loves oblique may well
Themselves in every angle greet;
But ours so truly parallel,
Though infinite, can never meet.
The literary term for this is wit. The formidable 18th-century English wordsmith Samuel Johnson defined a type of wit as “a combination of dissimilar images, or discovery of occult resemblances in things apparently unlike.” “The most heterogeneous ideas are yoked by violence together,” he wrote; that kind of conceptual discord defines “The More Loving One.”
The second stanza is, when you think about it, a perfect non sequitur. A hypothetical, general question is asked:
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
Mary Roach, writer
The answer is a personal declaration that is moving because it doesn’t seem to apply only or primarily to stars:
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Tim Egan, writer
Does this disjunction make it easier or harder to remember? Either way, these couplets start to reveal just how curious this poem is. We might find ourselves curious about who wrote them, and whom he might have loved. Tomorrow we’ll get to know Auden and his work a little better.
Play a game to learn it by heart. Need more practice? Listen to Ada Limón, Matthew McConaughey, W.H. Auden and others recite our poem.
Question 1/6
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
Tap a word above to fill in the highlighted blank.
Your task today: Learn the second stanza!
Let’s start with the first couplet in this stanza. Fill in the rhyming words.
Ready for another round? Try your hand at the 2025 Poetry Challenge.
Edited by Gregory Cowles, Alicia DeSantis and Nick Donofrio. Additional editing by Emily Eakin,
Joumana Khatib, Emma Lumeij and Miguel Salazar. Design and development by Umi Syam. Additional
game design by Eden Weingart. Video editing by Meg Felling. Photo editing by Erica Ackerberg.
Illustration art direction by Tala Safie.
Illustrations by Daniel Barreto.
Text and audio recording of “The More Loving One,” by W.H. Auden, copyright © by the Estate of
W.H. Auden. Reprinted by permission of Curtis Brown, Ltd. Photograph accompanying Auden recording
from Imagno/Getty Images.
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