Harvey Fergusson, 1890–1971

Abstract

cllarvey ¿fergu66on 1890-1971 During his lifetime Harvey Fergusson published only one poem, yet he thought of himself as a poet. And in the root meaning of that word—“maker”—poet he most certainly was. Not a writer of pleasant fictional ditties in praise of sentimental nature or of a romanticized past: for the poet, insofar as he is indeed a maker of things, must be passionately involved with what is to become, never nostalgic about what has once been. Harvey Fergusson agreed with the Preacher: Say not thou, what is the cause that the former days were better than these? for thou dost not enquire wisely concerning this. As a young man, he tells us, he had looked backward with longing; as an older one he had learned to look forward with hope. The body of his Western writing—The Blood of the Conquerors, Wolf Song, In Those Days, Grant of Kingdom and The Con­ quest of Don Pedro—chronicles his own simple but profound faith that a true pioneer must advance bravely into an un­ known future, not retreat into a safe and comfortable past. Harvey Fergusson died in Berkeley, where he had spent the final portion of his life. And that enigmatic and vital city metaphorically speaks to his own vision. Named to honor the English bishop whose famous line—Westward the course of empire takes its way—has summed up to generations the prom­ ise of America, Berkeley today represents to many not future greatness but present decline; not the idealism of young America, but the perversion of its youth. Harvey Fergusson would not agree. May we who treasure his writing remember his faith. May those of us who are perplexed and dismayed by the con­ fusion of our present times follow his own brave decision to look forward with hope, not backward with longing. May we ponder, to his everlasting honor, Harvey Fergusson’s eloquent words: Again and again I read that we are losing our roots, but I think there may be a gain in the fact that we are finding our wings. James K. Folsom ...