Stanley Moss published his first book, The Wrong Angel, in 1966. This current volume represents forty-three years of writing and almost three hundred poems, seventy-five of which are new, and shows the extent of his accomplishment in full force. There’s a brooding quality to this work, an engagement with the eternal verities: the search for…
It is not true, although it is sometimes ungenerously suggested, that the practitioners of contemporary poetry and its readership are one and the same set of people, but it does seem to be true that poetry reviewing is at present done mainly by poets. Since poets read more poetry and have thought harder about it…
Abbott Awaits, Chris Bachelder’s third novel, is as different from his second, U.S.! (a fantasia-parable about the American left, in which socialist and novelist Upton Sinclair is serially resurrected and serially assassinated), as his second was from his first, Bear vs. Shark (the nation is collectively distracted from all other matters, public or private, by…
When Eleanor Ross Taylor received the Poetry Foundation’s prestigious Ruth Lilly prize in 2010, Christian Wiman predicted most readers would be unfamiliar with her work. Indeed, although Taylor has been writing startlingly original, commanding poems for decades, the announcement of the prize was met in my household with “Eleanor Ross who?” Luckily, this new and…
Mark Twain once remarked that God invented war to teach Americans geography. If my knowledge of the Middle East is indicative, it may be time for us to try a different strategy. Even with revolutions spreading from country to country, and heavy American involvement in about half of them, I was stunned to discover—when I…
At the end of the second section of the extended lecture from which this short volume takes its title, Durs Grünbein says that he “might even go so far as to say that poetry is in large part born from the desire to start over as often as possible.” Whether or not this is true…
There are quadrants and orbitals of poetry which fit neatly into no category. The first poem I encountered by Reginald Shepherd (from his first collection, Some Are Drowning) startled me completely with its strange intense interiority. It started with a narrative scrap, and then, like a pearl diver taking a breath and stepping over the…
Suzanne Berne’s father was six years old when his mother died, less than two weeks before Christmas day in 1932. “We were told she was gone,” Berne remembers him repeating to her and her siblings. “No one ever said where.” In Missing Lucile, Berne, an award-winning novelist, sets out to find her grandmother and to…
If restoration is, according to Nietzsche, an act of revenge, then Christina Pugh in her second book enacts vengeance that seems devoid of fear, primarily because the object of this vengeance remains a mystery, beyond narrative construction. Pugh’s Restoration: Poems defies and resists, as well as exposes, our Pavlovian desires for the explicatory and the…
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