Captaining Her Own Ship

With six volumes of poetry, Kim Rosenfield ’87 has established herself as a versatile and insightful writer of our times. Her latest book, Phantom Captain, won the 2023 Ottoline Prize from Fence Books, an independent nonprofit literary journal and press. Her previous book, USO: I’ll Be Seeing You, from Ugly Duckling Presse, explored the surreal world of comedians entertaining the military in war zones. A poet and psychotherapist based in New York City, Rosenfield writes poetry intended to make readers laugh out loud while guiding them toward imagining new possibilities. 

Bruce Morrow: A big congratulations on Phantom Captain winning Fence Books’s 2023 Ottoline Prize. It’s so well deserved. What inspired you to write this dark and humorous book of poetry?

Kim Rosenfield: All my books are collections of everything in my life at that moment, whether it’s what I’m reading or what I’m experiencing emotionally. I keep notebooks, and I write everything out in longhand. 

Writing has always been the way I process the world and my life. During the time I started on Phantom, I was reading a lot of philosophy. I was particularly drawn to Buckminster Fuller, despite his controversial reputation. His chaoticness, strangeness, and hope for the future really anchored me during that time, which was during the aftermath of the 2016 election and at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic.

And just when we thought the world couldn’t get any worse, we find ourselves in the midst of these major wars, which is why politics is always part of the backdrop of my work. It influences my role as a psychotherapist, reflects the issues my patients bring to the table, and always centers my personal experiences.

BM: Your books capture the intersection of psychoanalysis and poetry so well. I’m curious to know more about the connections you see between Phantom Captain and the unconscious influences that guide our psyches and lives. 

KR: I love, love the unconscious. You know, a lot of people don’t believe in its existence, but it’s a guidepost for me. It’s the deeper spiritual realm, in a way. There’s some neuroscience behind it, too. But the poet is always connecting to the unconscious. The poet puts it into words, and when you’re reading it, you connect these specific things that might not typically seem connectable, and that’s the unconscious world. And that’s what happens in clinical work, too. The psychoanalyst is trying to get you to tune into your unconscious, name the unnameable, or put it into a form, shape, or language. It’s a shift in a feeling or what feels unreachable.

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BM: Does this have something to do with the “I” in Phantom Captain? Is the “I” autobiographical?

KR: I think everything’s autobiographical. In a way, even if you’re writing about someone else, the choices you make are what you’re drawn to, but not in the traditional sense of autobiography. You can think of it another way, too. The Argentine psychoanalyst Haydée Faimberg says in “Listening to Listening” that there are always at least two to three generations in the room during psychoanalysis. I feel it’s the same in writing — there’s a whole room full of people in the room with me while I’m writing.

BM: That’s so beautiful, how the “I” becomes “we.”

KR: But I always feel like the odd one out, even though I want to fit in and be a part of the “we.”

BM: How about when you were at Barnard? Did you feel part of the “we” there? 

KR: Yes, even though I was from suburban California and everyone at Barnard seemed very sophisticated, I knew it would be a good fit for me. I had never used the subway and had never lived in an old building before. I brought my little sheaf of newspaper clippings and portfolio for my interview at Barnard. I was so green. I remember the admissions counselor talking to me about poetry and what poets had attended Barnard and suggesting I go to the East Village and go to Life Cafe. I just felt so seen and heard, and that was extraordinary to me.

Eventually, I found my way to a theatre program called Performance in the Arts. Although I had already published a book of poetry before coming to Barnard, I wanted a break from it all and became heavily involved in theatre. However, I still included a performance of a Roland Barthes essay in my senior thesis, which related to my poetry. At Barnard, in every class, there was so much exposure to women’s writing and thinking in the world. It was profoundly influential and important in my life.

BM: So what’s next? What projects are you working on? Are there specific things that you want to accomplish in your next book?

KR: My next project picks up where Phantom Captain left off. It’s about aging, war, and suffering. I’m doing a deep dive into the Spanish Inquisition. That’s the basic springboard. I’m sure I’ll go in all the directions I always go in. But my dream is to move to Madrid. I actually had a reading in Madrid in the fall of 2023. I went to the Prado. I loved it so much I bought a year pass, even though I knew it would be impossible for me to return. It was wishful thinking. Who knows? I love Goya. I have his biography by Robert Hughes sitting right next to me. I love the way he subtly stuck it to the aristocrats who supported him. I love his daring politics, his paintings, and his silver engravings, which are still shocking. They speak about war and poverty, which is so relevant today.