Amy Susan Wilson lives in Shawnee, Oklahoma and has recently published in Southern Women’s Review, Dead Mule, Red River Review, Cyber Soleil Journal, Red Dirt Review, Crosstimbers, Southern Literary Review,and in other similar journals. Amy is at work on a novel, The Fine Life of Mrs. Delbert L. Smith, which explores the first female attorney in Oklahoma to practice oil and gas law. Non-fiction writing interests include Senior, over age fifty-five beauty pageants, and the pay day loan industry as it intersects with spirituality. Amy lives in Shawnee, Oklahoma with her family and three rescue dogs: Matthew, Pedro, and Snowball. She holds an MFA from Columbia University.
The following poem first appeared in Volume 11, Crosstimbers (Spring-Summer, 2011).
Doing the Hula
Don Ho, Hawaiian Breeze,
whisks her from this living room of green shag,
sensible sofa covers
to sandy white beaches with
girls swiveling hips, jiggling away
Just like Laki-Laki at Don Ho’s side.
Pall Mall clutched tight as a rosary,
sweet tea pressed into the other.
With each gulp and crank of vinyl
Eunice becomes Lead Hula Gal
her gray permed poodle hair
glossy-black; waist length.
All the men want her.
Don Ho blows a kiss
into her ear
as she hulas into the coffee table
laughs into the lamp
cry-giggles to the floor.
I will not forget the time
she brought out her ukulele
and Colt 45
held it to her left temple
then crown.
Grandma Eunice,
if you were to drive
by 3901 Windsor Way,
peek into the window at yourself
you’d see a woman
downing Diet Coke & rum
that only you call ice tea.
You’d see a woman
stumble through the fluorescent night,
your Maui Island faraway
as you dance into the dust
of volcanic ash.
The following poem first appeared in Volume 3, Red Dirt Review (Spring 2012).
Waiting in Line at the Pott. County Wal-Mart
If you live in the rural South and you are female and own a vehicle, or your cousin owns a vehicle, you can’t help but shop or just browse Wal-Mart at least once a week. In fact, Wal-Mart is not unlike attending the First Baptist Church; it is there and you must, you must participate in that weekly or more visit because it is how you were raised, and the urge to be a part of this world is coded into your Southern female DNA . If you are from the East or West coast you likely won’t understand, but anyone from here, the rural South, this South, well, ya’ll know what I mean.
-Amy Susan Wilson
This dude runs some Morning Star corn dogs
down the conveyer,
there goes four Silk Soy Strawberry yogurts
but this guy, he’s no fruit
No Sir
tan biceps –Big–
but not too big
cute jogger’s butt
framed in Levis
he stands about 6’3–
oh, here goes some organic blueberries
wow, I am like marrying you
if you’d ever get off your phone
so I could say,
Blueberries, isn’t it nice they’re in season?
That’s what I’d say cuz I can’t think
of anything better;
How pathetic.
Wait, he’s going ninety an hour
on his cell:
So fight the cocks anyway
Just fight’em ‘n place five, C.J.
What? He’s yacking about birds?
fighter birds?
How can you buy soy ‘n fight birds?
You know they attach razor blades to their ankles;
even Kris Steele, a Republican,
voted against cock-fighting.
Mmm, second thought,
Mister those Levi’s
just hang out on your bony ass
‘n your nose pug-like,
a girl nose
No a Michael Jackson nose.
Lord, now I have to get a divorce
cuz I married you
when Lynelle here rang up
teriyaki tofu, some three olive hummus–
I honeymooned with you at a green resort
in Tucson
as you sacked
with cloth reusable, recycled bags
you brought from home.
Lord, I can’t help
but linger at Coin Star
as you drain the change
from your hemp wallet—
I thought you were tan from jogging
with a big black rescue dog
the kind no one wants to adopt
but no, I find out you’re tan from
raising rooster bulls to cock fight.
Gosh dang, cock fighting.
murdering the Lord’s creatures.
Are you the one
to attach the razors?
Or does your buddy C.J.
do your dirty work?
How do I find men like you?
Now you’re climbing into a hybrid Escape,
a bumper sticker:
“Support the N.R.A.”
Oh shit!
I need an annulment
and fast.
You catch my eye and grin.
Listen, this three minute marriage
it’s over
I’m glad to be single again
and whew,
start my new life over
totally without you.
Slut Butt Miller: A Barber’s Daughter
Whale-O-Suds Tunnel Wash,
Jimmy Maloney unfastens
midnight-blue push-up
one hand.
White wife beater
daisy duke shorts
litter John Deere
floor mats
along with
Jack Daniels
Pall Mall pack.
That gush
of green soap,
creamy mint frosting
you’d see on top
a cupcake.
Turtle Wax
complimentary,
3:00 in the a.m.
Tonight
Blaine Sawder
football keg
Haunted Hill.
Pink thong
unwraps
Jolly Rancher easy,
watermelon kind.
After
the after party
Slut Butt
squeals donuts alone
Shawnee Bowl.
Neon pin
oil derrick tall
winks egg-white.
All the boys
gone home
texting from bed
their real
sweethearts.
Keystone glued
to cup holder,
Slut Butt
circles her Father’s
‘95 beige Impala
round and round
that empty lot,
swears to FM
and humidity
her Daddy visits
like in a movie
but a dream,
Recall your tire swing
Salt Fork River?
I cut from old tread
roped to oak—
You was my
Little Angel,
Baby-Girl.
Her Mama
irons shirts
seventy-five cents
a pop,
Benny Lee
Yacking to you 4:00 a.m.—
And I won $500 million
Oklahoma Lottery.
Asphalt and sky
pitch-black
as the inside
of a beer can,
the backseat
of some boy’s truck
waiting.
Antonin Scalia, Bryan A. Garner, Commentaries on American Law, Frank H. Easterbrook, H.L.A. Hart, James Kent, Lon L. Fuller, Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr., originalism, Reading Law, Stanley Fish, Textualism, The American Spectator, The Common Law, The Concept of Law, The Morality of Law
The Law is Above the Lawyers
In Arts & Letters, Book Reviews, Conservatism, Humanities, Jurisprudence, Law, Legal Research & Writing, Literary Theory & Criticism, The Supreme Court, Writing on October 3, 2012 at 8:45 amThis review appeared here in The American Spectator.
Antonin Scalia and Bryan A. Garner, Reading Law: The Interpretation of Legal Texts (Thomson West, 2012)
Do not let its girth fool you: Reading Law by U.S. Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia and legal writing guru Bryan A. Garner is an accessible and straightforward clarification of originalism and textualism.* A guide for the perplexed and a manual of sorts for judges, this book presents 57 canons of construction. Each canon is formatted as a rule — e.g., “When the syntax involves something other than a parallel series of nouns or verbs, a prepositive or postpositive modifier normally applies only to the nearest reasonable referent” — followed by a short explanation of the rule.
Frank H. Easterbrook, who provided the foreword to the book, submits that originalism is not about determining legislative intent, but construing legislative enactment. In other words, originalists interpret as strictly as possible the words of the particular text and do not look to the earlier maze of political compromises, equivocations, and platitudes that brought about the text. Each legislator has unique intent; projecting one person’s intent onto the whole legislative body generates a fiction of vast proportion.
That the process of enacting a law is so rigorous and convoluted suggests the importance of adhering closely to the express language of the law; legislators, after all, have taken into account the views of their constituents and advisors and have struggled with other legislators to reach a settlement that will please enough people to obtain a majority. A judge should trust that painstaking process and not overturn or disregard it.
Originalism involves what Stanley Fish, the eminent Milton scholar and literary critic turned law professor, has called “interpretive communities.” That is the very term Easterbrook employs to describe how judges should account for cultural and communal conventions at the time a text is produced: “Words don’t have intrinsic meanings; the significance of an expression depends on how the interpretive community alive at the time of the text’s adoption understood those words.”
To be sure, the original meaning of a text — what reasonable people living at the time and place of its adoption ordinarily would have understood it to mean — is never fully accessible. The meanings of old laws are particularly elusive. When a judge can no longer identify the context of a law by referring to dictionaries or legal treatises available when it was promulgated, then he should defer to the legislature to make the law clearer.
Judges should not impose their interpretative guesses onto the law and, hence, onto the people; nor should judges make new law on the mere supposition, however reasonable, that a text means something that it might not have meant when it was written. “Meaning” is itself a slippery signifier, and it is in some measure the aim of this book to simplify what is meant by “meaning.”
The book is not all about grammar, syntax, and punctuation. It has philosophical and political urgency. The authors propose that the legal system is in decline because of its infidelity to textual precision and scrupulous hermeneutics. A general neglect for interpretive exactitude and consistency has “impaired the predictability of legal dispositions, has led to unequal treatment of similarly situated litigants, has weakened our democratic processes, and has distorted our system of governmental checks and balances.” All of this has undermined public faith in lawyers and judges.
Scalia and Garner, who recently teamed up to write Making Your Case: The Art of Persuading Judges (Thomson West, 2009), proclaim themselves “textualists,” because they “look for meaning in the governing text, ascribe to that text the meaning that it has borne from its inception, and reject judicial speculation about both the drafters’ extratextually derived purposes and the desirability of the fair reading’s anticipated consequences.” Most of us, they say, are textualists in the broadest sense; the purest textualists, however, are those who commit themselves to finding accurate meanings for words and phrases without regard for the practical results.
Consequences are the province of legislators. A judge ought to be a linguist and lexicographer rather than a legislator; he or she must be faithful to texts, not accountable to the people as are elected officials. (Leaving aside the issue of elected judges at the state level.) The authors seem to be suggesting that their approach needn’t be controversial. Originalism and textualism are simply names for meticulous interpretive schemes that could lead judges to decisions reflecting either conservative orliberal outcomes. One doesn’t need to be a fan of Scalia to appreciate the hermeneutics in this treatise.
Never have we seen a plainer, more complete expression of originalism or textualism. Reading Law could become a landmark of American jurisprudence, numbered among such tomes as James Kent’s Commentaries on American Law, Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr.’s The Common Law, H.L.A. Hart’s The Concept of Law, and Lon L. Fuller’s The Morality of Law. Although different from these works in important ways, Reading Law is equally ambitious and perhaps even more useful for the legal community, especially on account of its sizable glossary of terms, extensive table of cases, impressive bibliography, and thorough index.
Every judge should read this book; every lawyer who cares about law in the grand sense — who takes the time to consider the nature of law, its purpose and role as a social institution, and its historical development — should read this book as well. If Scalia and Garner are correct that the general public no longer respects the institutions of law, then this book is valuable not only for revealing the root causes, but also for recommending realistic and systematic solutions.
* Originalism and textualism are not the same thing; this review treats them as interchangeable only because Judge Easterbrook’s forward uses the term “originalism” whereas Scalia and Garner use the term “textualism,” but each author appears to refer to the same interpretive approach.
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