Ted Berrigan’s Get the Money: Collected Prose 1961-1983 (City Lights) has a number of surprises and at least one major take-away. It turns out his masterwork, The Sonnets (Grove Press, 1967), came about as a near collaboration with his then roommate, to whom the poem is dedicated, the artist and writer Joe Brainard. As he records in a diary featured here, the two were touring the Manhattan galleries virtually every day and Brainard was deep into collage and a de facto tutor on the techniques of the genre. At some point Berrigan took a scissors to his poems and began shuffling the lines. The Sonnets is thus a prismatic, passionate view of youth, love, friendship, art, angst, New York, Pepsis, cigarettes, sadness, frustration, and beauty of all manners and kinds — arguably the most evocative poem of the 1960s.
Berrigan writes wonderfully about the poetry and prose he loves and the journals are more revealing and touching than anything previously published (including the exposure of terrible poverty and addiction). But his interest and commitment to minute particulars in sound and sense in poems didn’t extend into comparable mastery in prose. He’s more commanding in an interview and there are editorial lapses where a fine review of Frank O’Hara or Kenward Elmslie is set side-by-side with something incomprehensible. But turning the page will remedy that.