Classic and Contemporary Poetry: Explained

Simon J. Ortiz’s "Back East. But When? Where? What? Who?" is a meditation on memory, time, and the unsettling gaps in personal history. The poem follows the speaker as he struggles to recall details of a past experience—where he was, who he was with, and what exactly happened. Despite his efforts, the past remains elusive, hovering at the edges of his consciousness, just beyond full recollection. Ortiz captures the frustrating nature of memory, particularly as it relates to time, sobriety, and the way certain moments remain vivid while others fade into obscurity. Through repetition, fragmented thought patterns, and a tone of quiet exasperation, the poem explores how memory shapes identity and how forgetting can feel like a loss of self.

The poem begins with a contradiction: "It was right there. Yet peripheral. But right before him." This immediate tension between presence and absence sets the stage for the speaker’s internal struggle. The event he is trying to recall feels both tangible and distant—something that should be clear but remains just out of reach. Ortiz’s use of short, declarative sentences mimics the speaker’s attempt to grasp at fleeting details, mirroring the disjointed nature of memory itself.

The speaker examines "A list of places, names of places where he’d been." The list acts as an anchor, a physical record of past experiences. However, it does not provide clarity. Instead, it raises more questions: "But when? 1980?" The fact that he must confirm the year with himself—"Yes, he agreed with himself silently after studying the list."—emphasizes his uncertainty. The detail of studying the list suggests a deliberate effort to reconstruct the past, yet the inability to remember specifics highlights the limits of memory.

The repetition of "ten years" reinforces the passage of time, the way experiences blur as they recede into the past. "Ten years since he'd been back east." The phrase "back east" suggests that this was a significant journey, something meant to be remembered. Yet, despite its importance, the details escape him.

The mention of "The Gallery" serves as a focal point in his recollection: "He remembered The Gallery somewhere. But where?" This immediate breakdown—remembering something but not knowing where it was—demonstrates the mind’s selective retention. The next thought complicates matters further: "Actually outside The Gallery talking with somebody. But who?" The speaker recalls a conversation but not the person he spoke with. The list of uncertainties builds: "Several people. But who were they?" The questioning rhythm mirrors his frustration, his attempt to reconstruct the past through fragments.

One detail stands out clearly: "They had invited him for a drink next door but he didn’t go with them. No, he said, but thanks. He remembered that very clearly, saying that." The contrast between this moment of certainty and his overall confusion is striking. The refusal—a conscious choice—lingers in his memory, perhaps because it represents a turning point. His regret surfaces: "I should have gone with them he thought now. Maybe I'd remember who they were. And where. And what happened, all the details, everything." The realization that a single decision may have altered his ability to recall an entire evening adds to his frustration.

The fact that he "didn’t even remember his poetry reading" is significant. Poetry readings, particularly for a poet, are moments of presence, performance, and engagement. The inability to recall this event suggests a deeper disconnection—not just from the details of the evening, but from a piece of his identity as a poet. His thoughts shift beyond just remembering people: "There is more than just people to remember, he thought now. There's always lots to remember." This line suggests that memory is not just about reconstructing interactions, but about capturing the essence of an experience—the emotions, the atmosphere, the significance of the moment.

The poem then returns to the central question of location: "What the hell took place anyway and where? Where the hell was The Gallery anyway? New York?" The uncertainty of place adds to the feeling of disorientation. The blunt phrasing—"What the hell took place anyway?"—reflects growing frustration, a desire to reclaim lost time.

The speaker then considers the role of sobriety in his memory loss: "He wasn’t drinking that time. In fact, that period of his life was without drinking for a good while." The clarification that he was sober is important. If he had been drinking, the memory lapse might be explainable, but the absence of alcohol makes the forgetfulness more disturbing. "And it bothered him even more he didn’t remember when, where, what the hell took place, and who was there." The piling of "when, where, what, who" reinforces the overwhelming gaps in his recollection.

Ortiz introduces a contrast between different types of forgetting: "A blackout he could understand or at least accept but loss of memory while stone sober bothered him." This moment is key—the speaker has experienced alcohol-induced blackouts before, and those make sense to him. What troubles him is the idea that he can forget so completely without any external cause. This raises larger existential concerns: If memory is not entirely within our control, what does that mean for our sense of self? Can we trust our past if it is built on fragile recollections?

The final lines of the poem attempt a resolution, though not a satisfying one: "So it's peripheral, accept it, he thought, it's peripheral, accept it." The repetition of "peripheral" suggests that these memories, while frustratingly incomplete, are not central to his existence. By telling himself to accept this, he tries to make peace with the fact that not everything will be remembered. Yet, there is something unsettling about this conclusion—the act of remembering is tied to identity, to storytelling, to understanding one’s own life. If events slip into the periphery, do they still shape who we are?

Ortiz’s use of fragmented thoughts, repetition, and questioning mirrors the speaker’s mental state, making the poem feel immediate and intimate. The casual tone, combined with moments of exasperation, creates an authentic depiction of someone grappling with memory loss—not as a dramatic event, but as a quiet, nagging realization that something has been lost without explanation.

"Back East. But When? Where? What? Who?" is ultimately a meditation on memory’s unreliability and the unsettling realization that certain experiences, no matter how significant they seemed at the time, may never be fully reclaimed. Ortiz captures the quiet weight of forgetting—not in the form of dramatic amnesia, but in the subtle erosion of details over time. The speaker’s attempt to reconstruct the past becomes an acknowledgment of how much is always slipping away, residing at the edges of consciousness, peripheral, accept it.

Copyright (c) 2025 PoetryExplorer

Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!

Other Poems of Interest...