A Poem by Edward Hirsch: ‘The Custodian’

a man holding an old-fashioned vacuum cleaner, collaged onto a dark purple-brown and cream background
Miki Lowe

A poem revealed in The Atlantic in 2011

Edward Hirsch didn’t all the time write poetry for a dwelling. He’s been a busboy, a railroad brakeman, a rubbish man; he’s labored in a chemical plant and in a field manufacturing unit. “You always remember,” he as soon as advised an interviewer, “what it means to punch a clock.” Maybe for that cause, he’s written ceaselessly about labor: the quiet dignity of getting one thing finished, the sense of goal that pulls many people away from bed every morning, the way in which that even easy little duties can construction one’s days—one’s life. Work is unusually absent from a lot of up to date poetry, he mentioned in 2018, even supposing “most individuals’s lives are consumed by their jobs.” His corpus is one thing of a corrective.

In “The Custodian,” a synagogue’s janitor performs his humble duties: dusting off scrolls, folding tallises, turning out the lights. The chores are mundane, however he does them respectfully and totally—and in that sense he contributes to the congregants’ sacred expertise. A shomer—a keeper or guard—is a vital function in Judaism, one that may contain staying with a physique till its burial, or making certain that the components utilized in a kitchen are kosher. It’s not so totally different from the extra basic that means of custodian: an individual who takes care of one thing. What’s actually holy, Hirsch appears to suggest, isn’t just a synagogue’s glittering stained glass or the imposing notes of the organ, and even the phrases of the prayers. It’s all of the small acts of care that folks perform daily—just because, as Hirsch as soon as wrote in one other poem, “that’s the job.”

By the point he wrote this poem, Hirsch had way back stop his manual-labor gigs. He was versed in Jewish customized. So if we’re to learn it autobiographically, why does he say he’s lived his “complete life” just like the janitor? I ponder if it has one thing to do with Hirsch’s vocation. As a author, he’s basically an observer, trying to file or interpret experiences from a take away. A custodian, too, operates at a distance; to maintain watch over one thing, it’s a must to stand aside from it. However each of those laborers brush up towards one thing transcendent, even when solely briefly. For the janitor, it’s the temple’s tune and ritual and religion; for Hirsch, maybe, they’re the flashes of magnificence or fragments of fact that he could not be capable of totally seize and even totally perceive—however can attempt to doc, and thus shield. Neither endeavor entails a lot glory; every is simply an sincere effort made anew every day. That’s why each are profound.


the original magazine page with images of a menorah, a light, and a man's feet collaged on

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