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avolyn's review against another edition
1.0
This book seems to receive a lot of praise but it just didn't speak to me. Even the few poems where I almost thought I'd found a winner were soiled by a degrading end.
maddykpdx's review against another edition
3.0
Many of the pieces in this collection struck me as end-of-life-old-man poetry, which, in general, doesn't hold particular appeal for me. ...Which isn't to diminish the several moments of pure amazingness to be found in some of these poems, like these lines from "Kunstkammer":
Again and again we put our
sweet ghosts on small paper boats and sailed
them back to their death, each moving slowly
into the dark, disappearing as our hearts
visited and savored, hurt and yearned.
Again and again we put our
sweet ghosts on small paper boats and sailed
them back to their death, each moving slowly
into the dark, disappearing as our hearts
visited and savored, hurt and yearned.
eely225's review against another edition
5.0
Gilbert captures much of the best in modern poetry: specific imagery, an implicated speaker, occasional ambiguity without treading into the realm of incomprehensibility, effective line breaks, unexpected figurative language, and reassessments of familiar images and narratives.
Much of this is typified in one of the better poems in the collection, Failing and Flying, which starts with the memorable line: "Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew," questioning both the common assessment of the lesson from that story, as well as the concept of a "failed marriage" as a failure in fact.
It is this capacity for holding seemingly unrelated images and ideas in hand that underlies much of the collection's brightest moments. Certainly deserves a revisit on my part.
Much of this is typified in one of the better poems in the collection, Failing and Flying, which starts with the memorable line: "Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew," questioning both the common assessment of the lesson from that story, as well as the concept of a "failed marriage" as a failure in fact.
It is this capacity for holding seemingly unrelated images and ideas in hand that underlies much of the collection's brightest moments. Certainly deserves a revisit on my part.
andrearosevear's review against another edition
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
fast-paced
5.0
This is my favourite collection of poetry of all time. Jack Gilbert is an absolute delight. This collection featured one of my all time favourite poems, "Failing and Flying." I really enjoy the hopefulness of this poet. His thoughts on joy and the delight of life is an in-between of naive optimism and cynical pessimism and clearly expressed in "A Brief for the Defence." I highly recommend this book to everyone, it is one of my favourite books of all time.
pixiereadsbooks's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
inspiring
reflective
sad
medium-paced
4.5
elianachow's review against another edition
4.0
Poems about divided selves haunted by yet healing from the past, in their own way.
“So many of the words are for meanwhile. We say, / ‘I love you’ while we search for language / that can be heard.” (The Butternut Tree at Fort Juniper)
“She waded / through their old hatred picking up / the sketches as each in turn blew down / in the wind running before the storm.” (Ylapa)
“… Giving thanks for what we are allowed / to think about it, grateful for it even as it wanes [. . .] All of it a blessing. The being there. Being alive then. / Like a giant bell ringing long after you can’t hear it.” (Burma)
The trouble with library books is that you must give them back. And refrain, gently, from writing in the margins your various love letters to words and the ache of existence and knowledge. And then you must justify to yourself, all over again, that you simply must have your own copy of this book, except this time the argument is less convincing because you’ve already read the text.
“So many of the words are for meanwhile. We say, / ‘I love you’ while we search for language / that can be heard.” (The Butternut Tree at Fort Juniper)
“She waded / through their old hatred picking up / the sketches as each in turn blew down / in the wind running before the storm.” (Ylapa)
“… Giving thanks for what we are allowed / to think about it, grateful for it even as it wanes [. . .] All of it a blessing. The being there. Being alive then. / Like a giant bell ringing long after you can’t hear it.” (Burma)
The trouble with library books is that you must give them back. And refrain, gently, from writing in the margins your various love letters to words and the ache of existence and knowledge. And then you must justify to yourself, all over again, that you simply must have your own copy of this book, except this time the argument is less convincing because you’ve already read the text.