Diane Middlebrook — A Tribute

As many who have been in the Salon for awhile know, I have often spoke of my love for Diane Middlebrook's wit, charm, intellect, laugh, courage, defiance and diligence in everything she did. I took nearly every class she offered in the four years at Stanford...even Human Sexuality (I needed to fulfill my science requirements some way!) . She mesmerized a packed audience with her erotic readings for the sex in literature portion of the course. And made us laugh at such a human state of confusion and want.

As everyone knows, Professor Middlebrook's mind was amazing. I will admit, I didn't ask her to be my honors paper sponsor because I was afraid I couldn't meet her high standards. I bought every book she published after graduation and tried to follow her career. I joined the Book Salon because anything she started would be a brilliant idea. I, like Marsha, was hoping she would return to host a book or two.

I was a long-legged, big-breasted blonde who was having difficulty being taken seriously in life. At that time, this old joke was popular -- "Nine out of ten girls in California are good-looking, the other one tenth goes to Stanford." Sexy good-looking women and brilliance didn't go together. She was the lightening rod that provoked the idea that a feminist could look as she did, laugh at sexy things and serious things, and be a power to be reckoned with. I took those hours of watching and listening to her and formed an archetype in my mind. I used it to create a persona that I presented in my professional life throughout my 25 years of national, complex, scientific, and medical litigation.

My first law firm didn't believe that women belonged in the courtroom. I was only the second woman ever hired. One year, I remember being told in my annual review that in order to be taken seriously, I needed to stop getting a manicure. I had never lost a case and we were discussing my nails! Another time, in open court a judge told me he'd hear my motion if I'd come and sit on his lap. And always an image of Professor Middlebrook would pop up in my mind, laughing at the absurdity of it all. I responded to the judge amidst the chuckles, "I'll come sit on your lap if you grant my motion." He told me I'd better stay put. If it hadn't been for Diane Middlebrook, I'm not sure how I would have handled many of the strange occurrences in my life. I owe her big time.

Opening the Washington Post that morning to her obituary was a shock and a relief. I knew she had been suffering a long time and I just couldn't imagine how such a bright light could sustain itself under such stress and pain. May she be at peace. If anyone attended her funeral, I would love to hear about it.

 “Please add my thanks to Diane Middlebrook for founding the Book Salon. Although some of the selections puzzle me, they usually make me think about something unfamiliar, and at this age that is beneficial. How I wish she had been teaching during my years at Stanford--1945 to 1949! She sounds like an extraordinary teacher and personality. It was sad indeed to read of her death."

“I had one happy email exchange with Diane Middlebrook.  I have read that she enjoyed lending encouragement to young writers, and that was my experience.

I wrote her a gushing letter about my desire to be a biographer. She advised that I just pick a project and do it. Organizing one's notes, she warned, was one of the trickiest parts of the work. When I had a project in mind, she said, I could come to her house and she'd show me the organizing system her mentor taught her. I ended up getting a contract for a small biography project a few months later. That same week, I learned that she was off to London. I had finished the project by the time she returned, but I wrote her a note letting her know about my success. I thanked her for the encouragement and told her that I, too, found the organizing tricky. She wrote back that she was "glad she'd been so straightforward"!

Very gracious...”

“That leather suit ... it was discussed in Diane's obituary, in other interviews I've read since, and by many people posting remembrances. This is fascinating to me because it reminds me of my high school AP French teacher. She is a tiny French woman who grew up in Algeria and wanted to be a ballerina but became a lawyer instead. When she moved to the U.S., she got the private school teaching job from which she retired.

At about 45 years old, she had a perfect figure and often wore a cashmere sweater matched with a tight, black leather skirt, stilettos, and hose. Somehow she managed to come across as prim. (For some context, this was the Reagan era, most of the mothers wore jeans and worn Docksiders, and one of our most famous alumna was Barbara Bush.) Like Diane, she had an infectious and passionate commitment to the poetry -- I still read it today (in French) and always think of "Madame" in her leather skirt when I do!”

I wanted to thank you for your comments and remembrances of Diane Middlebrook. I did not read the current selection, but am very glad to be receiving all of your comments, especially regarding Diane Middlebrook.

I had the pleasure of hearing her speak on campus a few years ago as part of the "What Matters to Me and Why" series. While many people in the series speak about the importance of family, as well as other aspects of their life, Diane took a different approach. She spoke about why literature mattered to her so very much. While she did not discuss her illness at any length, she closed her talk by reading a poem that was about facing death. It was an incredibly moving hour. I left Mem Chu with the knowledge that Diane Middlebrook was an exceptionally bright, caring person who did not flinch from all that life sent her way.

“I too was greatly saddened to learn of Diane Middlebrook's death.  At my 30th reunion in 2003 I was fortunate enough to meet Ms. Middlebrook. Her book Her Husband about the marriage and mutual influences of Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes on one another's work was hot off the press.  She held a book signing in the Stanford Book Store and as I handed her my book she looked up with that beautiful smile and said, "Weren't you a student of mine?  You look very familiar".  I had to tell her that unfortunately I had not been her student.  I have such regret over the classes I decided not to take while I was at Stanford.  There were always so many difficult choices to make.

That same weekend Diane interviewed Tobias Wolff for the inaugural discussion of the first Book Salon selection, In Pharaoh's Army, Memories of the Lost War.  I was in hog heaven listening to these two brilliant writers illuminate Wolff's memoir when, don't ask me why, I happened to glance down at Diane's shoes.  At first I thought my eyes were "playing tricks on me" as they say, however, the longer I looked I realized I was seeing quite correctly. Although they were the exact same style of a conservative leather low heeled pump, Diane was wearing one black shoe and one red shoe!  Was it a mistake as she hurriedly dressed that morning?  A reflection of her creativity and sense of humor?  Or was she beckoning us to consider some deeper meaning in the act where like in the biography in her words "there are no straight lines; all is muddled.  You don't know what you know; you don't know what you don't know; if you find anything you make a note about it because some day it may find its partner". At any rate remembering that subtle act of defiance of the norm makes me think of Diane Middlebrook and smile.”

 “I was very fortunate to take a class with Diane Middlebrook when I was a sophomore at Stanford.  Needless to say, it only took me a few weeks to realize I was out of my element in an upper-level poetry writing course.  I was a Psychology major with a love of literature and creative writing and thought it would be fun to take the class.  It was a very humbling experience for me and after getting used to having my poems ripped to pieces by the students as well as Professor Middlebrook I learned how to become a much better poetry writer.  I remember toward the end of the quarter that she actually complimented me on a piece of writing and nearly fell out of my chair!  While the course was challenging for me it also helped me strengthen my self-esteem and learn to take criticism from others.

I don't remember the exact circumstances, but as the end of the course approached, the entire class was invited to Professor Middlebrook's home for a dinner honoring a guest poet.  Carl Djerassi was there as well and I remember feeling so grown up and special to have been included in such an event.

Over the years, I have carried my memories of Diane Middlebrook with me. Reading her writing has been more enjoyable as a result.  I feel privileged to have been able to share a tiny piece of her, and wish I could go back to my student days and sit through those classes one more time.”

I am so sad. We have lost a wonderful, warm and vibrant person who cared, and shared, so much of herself with others, especially Stanford students, alumni, faculty and friends.

I am an English major and enthusiast because of my freshman class with Diane. She touched the lives of many students throughout her tenure here, and then kept on touching people through her scholarly research and works and her incredible willingness to give of herself - her time, energy and love of literature.

Diane will be sorely missed.

I don't know how many of you, members of the Book Salon, were at the memorial on Sunday for Diane Middlebrook....I would have loved to have known who.

Predicted torrential rains did not stop the celebration of Diane... and it barely drizzled.  About 300 people filled the Djerassi "Barn" with memories and enthusiasm for Diane.  Carl greeted us in the beautiful jacket he wore for the wedding almost 30 years ago.  Leah, Diane's beautiful daughter shared very touching memories of her mom, as did Carl and other members of the family and intellectual community.  There were no dry eyes during the 2 hours and not a stir or cough in the room.

As was said, "The life of such a woman needs no epitaph."

Diane worked on her book, Ovid, till 3 days before her death.  Since she didn't get to finish the whole life, Carl suggested that she call the book, "Young Ovid."   It will be published 2009.   It was supposed to come out in 2008, 2,000 years after Ovid's death! I learned that Diane created many Salons, mostly for writers, I think.... in London, NYC,.... and the members are SALONAIRES.  The Book Salon is another of her creations and I love being a salonaire with all of you!

I wanted to just say a couple of things about Diane Middlebrook. She was one of my two or three favorite teachers at Stanford; she and Anne Mellor were real inspirations and role models for me early on in my time there as stellar academic women with big personalities, who were able to have both highly powerful minds and sympathetic hearts. I loved her class on modern poetry (Adrienne Rich was a favorite of hers) and am still reading many of the poets she introduced me to. I even am teaching Frank Ohara this year to high school students, and thought of her as I planned my class.

On a personal note, I remember fondly this great leather suit she used to wear to teach--pretty gutsy at the time--and will never forget the wonderful summer house-sit she arranged for me on Carl Djerassi's property the year before the house became the artist's retreat it is now. That summer was magical and the art work I did there that summer changed the course of my work as an artist. I still remember a fascinating afternoon at Karl and Diane's house on the mountain, with some other folks, looking out on the ocean far below. She managed to create the feeling of an intellectual salon wherever she was, in any group of people, and her conversation was often the center of it. I was so sad to hear of her untimely death--a real shock to me and I am sure to many, many others. I wish I had taken the time to write to her to let her know that now, almost 30 years later, I still feel her influence in my classroom and in my studio.”

When I was basically ordered by my Cal advisor to apply to PhD programs in 1969, my father saw a photo of a strikingly beautiful English Professor at Stanford in a newspaper or magazine someplace. He clipped the photo and sent it to me with a note that, yes, a woman can teach at Stanford. Only later did I connect it with Middlebrook, but it had to be her. When I was 21, her success was very reassuring....

The Book Salon would not exist if it hadn't been for Diane Middlebrook's inspiration.  I remember my fear for her and for the Book Salon when she was forced to step down for medical reasons.  Not many organizations or institutions continue when their founder leaves.  There are whole courses on such creative, dynamic personalities and their influence.  The Book Salon has survived; I always thought Diane would return.  Now, sadly, we know she won't.  The Book Salon seems to have the strength to continue, however.  It is a great credit to Diane, her colleagues, and the Stanford community that this is so.  It is a unique and rare treasure!

These recollections of Diane's character and warmth encourage me to share my own small experience with her. My first Book Salon was Ted Hughes Tales of Ovid taught by Professor Middlebrook. In those early days of the Book Salon there were weekly meetings at Stanford. For the first class I arrived at the Alumni Center a little early and was not entirely sure what to expect. Soon this middle aged woman came in , saw my Ovid and my notebook and said we should probably go up to the room. We went into one of the small seminar rooms and chatted for a few moments. She could see I was a unsure of myself and she went out of her way to put me at ease. It wasn't until others started to arrive that I realized this charming woman was our professor. The class on Ovid ranks as one of my best Stanford experiences. I am so grateful I got to meet Ms. Middlebrook and catch a glimpse of both her talent and her kindness.