Southern Humanities Review and the Auburn University Department of English were honored to host a poetry reading this past week, featuring poet, playwright, and Nobel Prize winner in Chemistry, Roald Hoffmann. His poem, “The God’s Face,” appears in our most recent issue.
Hoffmann began the reading with “Tsunami,” the poem opening his collection, Soliton, as a way of explaining his scientific and artistic influences. As much of his poetry is inspired by his studies in chemistry, Dr. Hoffmann encouraged the non-scientific minded to follow him despite our differences, asking us to “float along” on his words as poets often do, bypassing the lines we don’t understand and holding on to those we do.
As the reading continued into the afternoon, Hoffmann’s poetry evolved from its scientific roots to reveal threads of his childhood memories of the Holocaust. With each poem, Hoffmann offered the origins of his inspiration, stories as beautiful and provoking as those in his verse.
Upon his reading of “The God’s Face,” Hoffmann briefly spoke of his time spent in Japan and of the Japanese god at the center of his poem. As SHR also describes, “Hitokoto-nushi was a god who built a bridge on the road between Yoshino and Katsugari. But he worked only late nights, so that people would not be frightened by his ugly face.”
In a room filled with scientists, writers, students, and teachers, Hoffman, like Hitokoto-nushi, seemed to build bridges of his own. His poetry and musings closed the distance between the sciences and humanities, between individuals and communities. It is this same idea that seems to be at the heart of much of Hoffmann’s poetry. His work reflects a poet who truly sees no gaps, only bridges, and it is work SHR feels privileged to publish.
H. G. J.
Hoffmann began the reading with “Tsunami,” the poem opening his collection, Soliton, as a way of explaining his scientific and artistic influences. As much of his poetry is inspired by his studies in chemistry, Dr. Hoffmann encouraged the non-scientific minded to follow him despite our differences, asking us to “float along” on his words as poets often do, bypassing the lines we don’t understand and holding on to those we do.
As the reading continued into the afternoon, Hoffmann’s poetry evolved from its scientific roots to reveal threads of his childhood memories of the Holocaust. With each poem, Hoffmann offered the origins of his inspiration, stories as beautiful and provoking as those in his verse.
Upon his reading of “The God’s Face,” Hoffmann briefly spoke of his time spent in Japan and of the Japanese god at the center of his poem. As SHR also describes, “Hitokoto-nushi was a god who built a bridge on the road between Yoshino and Katsugari. But he worked only late nights, so that people would not be frightened by his ugly face.”
In a room filled with scientists, writers, students, and teachers, Hoffman, like Hitokoto-nushi, seemed to build bridges of his own. His poetry and musings closed the distance between the sciences and humanities, between individuals and communities. It is this same idea that seems to be at the heart of much of Hoffmann’s poetry. His work reflects a poet who truly sees no gaps, only bridges, and it is work SHR feels privileged to publish.
H. G. J.

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