SAN FRANCISCO 鈥� Lawrence Ferlinghetti, the poet, publisher, bookseller and activist who helped launch the Beat movement in the 1950s and embodied its curious and rebellious spirit well into the 21st century, has died at age 101.
Ferlinghetti, a San Francisco institution, died Monday at his home, his son Lorenzo Ferlinghetti said. A month shy of his 102nd birthday, Ferlinghetti died 鈥渋n his own room,鈥� holding the hands of his son and his son鈥檚 girlfriend, 鈥渁s he took his last breath." The cause of death was lung disease. Ferlinghetti had received the first dose of the COVID vaccine last week, his son said Tuesday.
Few poets of the past 60 years were so well known, or so influential. His books sold more than 1 million copies worldwide, a fantasy for virtually any of his peers, and he ran one of the world鈥檚 most famous and distinctive bookstores, City Lights. Although he never considered himself one of the Beats, he was a patron and soul mate and, for many, a lasting symbol 鈥� preaching a nobler and more ecstatic American dream.
鈥淎m I the consciousness of a generation or just some old fool sounding off and trying to escape the dominant materialist avaricious consciousness of America?鈥� he asked in 鈥淟ittle Boy,鈥� a stream of consciousness novel published around the time of his 100th birthday
He made history. Through the City Lights publishing arm, books by Jack Kerouac, William S. Burroughs and many others came out and the release of Allen Ginsberg鈥檚 landmark poem 鈥淗owl鈥� led to a 1957 obscenity case that broke new ground for freedom of expression.
He also defied history. The Internet, superstore chains and high rents shut down numerous booksellers in the Bay Area and beyond, but City Lights remained a thriving political and cultural outlet, where one section was devoted to books enabling 鈥渞evolutionary competence,鈥� where employees could get the day off to attend an anti-war protest.
鈥淕enerally, people seem to get more conservative as they age, but in my case, I seem to have gotten more radical,鈥� Ferlinghetti told Interview magazine in 2013. 鈥淧oetry must be capable of answering the challenge of apocalyptic times, even if this means sounding apocalyptic.鈥�
The store even endured during the coronavirus outbreak, when it was forced to close and required $300,000 to stay in business. A GoFundMe campaign quickly raised $400,000.
Ferlinghetti, tall and bearded, with sharp blue eyes, could be soft-spoken, even introverted and reticent in unfamiliar situations. But he was the most public of poets and his work wasn鈥檛 intended for solitary contemplation. It was meant to be recited or chanted out loud, whether in coffee houses, bookstores or at campus gatherings.
His 1958 compilation, 鈥淎 Coney Island of the Mind,鈥� sold hundreds of thousands of copies in the U.S. alone. Long an outsider from the poetry community, Ferlinghetti once joked that he had 鈥渃ommitted the sin of too much clarity.鈥� He called his style 鈥渨ide open鈥� and his work, influenced in part by e.e. cummings, was often lyrical and childlike: 鈥淧eacocks walked/under the night trees/in the lost moon/light/when I went out/looking for love,鈥� he wrote in 鈥淐oney Island.鈥�
Ferlinghetti also was a playwright, novelist, translator and painter and had many admirers among musicians. In 1976, he recited 鈥淭he Lord鈥檚 Prayer鈥� at the Band鈥檚 farewell concert, immortalized in Martin Scorsese鈥檚 鈥淭he Last Waltz.鈥� The folk-rock band Aztec Two-Step lifted its name from a line in the title poem of Ferlinghetti鈥檚 鈥淐oney Island鈥� book: 鈥淎 couple of Papish cats/is doing an Aztec two-step.鈥� Ferlinghetti also published some of the earliest film reviews by Pauline Kael, who with The New Yorker became one of the country鈥檚 most influential critics.
He lived long and well despite a traumatic childhood. His father died five months before Lawrence was born in Yonkers, New York, in 1919, leaving behind a sense of loss that haunted him, yet provided much of the creative tension that drove his art. His mother, unable to cope, had a nervous breakdown two years after his father鈥檚 death. She eventually disappeared and died in a state hospital.
Ferlinghetti spent years moving among relatives, boarding homes and an orphanage before he was taken in by a wealthy New York family, the Bislands, for whom his mother had worked as a governess. He studied journalism at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, received a master鈥檚 in literature from Columbia University, and a doctorate degree from the Sorbonne in Paris. His early influences included Ernest Hemingway, Thomas Wolfe and Ezra Pound.
Ferlinghetti hated war, because he was in one. In 1945, he was a Navy commander stationed in Japan and remembered visiting Nagasaki a few weeks after the U.S. had dropped an atom bomb. The carnage, he would recall, made him an 鈥渋nstant pacifist.鈥�
In the early 1950s, he settled in San Francisco and married Selden Kirby-Smith, whom he divorced in 1976. (They had two children). Ferlinghetti also became a member of the city鈥檚 rising literary movement, the so-called San Francisco Renaissance, and soon helped establish a gathering place. Peter D, Martin, a sociologist, had opened a paperback store in the city鈥檚 North Beach section and named it after a recent Charlie Chaplin film, 鈥淐ity Lights.鈥� When Ferlinghetti saw the storefront, in 1953, he suggested he and Martin become partners. Each contributed $500.
Ferlinghetti later told The New York Times: 鈥淐ity Lights became about the only place around where you could go in, sit down, and read books without being pestered to buy something.鈥�
The Beats, who had met in New York in the 1940s, now had a new base. One project was City Lights鈥� Pocket Poets series, which offered low-cost editions of verse, notably Ginsberg鈥檚 鈥淗owl.鈥� Ferlinghetti had heard Ginsberg read a version in 1955 and wrote him: 鈥淚 greet you at the beginning of a great career. When do I get the manuscript?鈥� a humorous take on the message sent from Ralph Waldo Emerson to Walt Whitman upon reading 鈥淟eaves of Grass.鈥�
Ferlinghetti published 鈥淗owl and Other Poems鈥� in 1956, but customs officials seized copies of the book that were being shipped from London, and Ferlinghetti was arrested on obscenity charges. After a highly publicized court battle, a judge in 1957 ruled that 鈥淗owl鈥� was not obscene, despite its sexual themes, citing the poem鈥檚 relevance as a criticism of modern society. A 2010 film about the case, 鈥淗owl,鈥� starred James Franco as Ginsberg and Andrew Rogers as Ferlinghetti.
Ferlinghetti would also release Kerouac鈥檚 鈥淏ook of Dreams,鈥� prison writings by Timothy Leary and Frank O鈥橦ara鈥檚 鈥淟unch Poems.鈥� Ferlinghetti risked prison for 鈥淗owl,鈥� but rejected Burrough鈥檚 classic 鈥淣aked Lunch,鈥� worrying that publication would lead to 鈥渟ure premeditated legal lunacy.鈥�
Ferlinghetti鈥檚 eyesight was poor in recent years, but he continued to write and to keep regular hours at City Lights. The establishment, meanwhile, warmed to him, even if the affection wasn鈥檛 always returned. He was named San Francisco鈥檚 first poet laureate, in 1998, and City Lights was granted landmark status three years later. He received an honorary prize from the National Book Critics Circle in 2000 and five years later was given a National Book Award medal for 鈥渉is tireless work on behalf of poets and the entire literary community.鈥�
鈥淭he dominant American mercantile culture may globalize the world, but it is not the mainstream culture of our civilization,鈥� Ferlinghetti said upon receiving the award. 鈥淭he true mainstream is made, not of oil, but of literarians, publishers, bookstores, editors, libraries, writers and readers, universities and all the institutions that support them.鈥�
In 2012, Ferlinghetti won the Janus Pannonius International Poetry Prize from the Hungarian PEN Club. When he learned the country鈥檚 right-wing government was a sponsor, he turned the award down.
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Italie reported from New York.
Janie Har And Hillel Italie, The Associated Press
