When you place your order through Biblio, the seller will ship it directly to you. I cannot separate the good from the bad with any real authority. There was nothing to be learned from them. Who can say what the world is? You get on a train, you disappear. Scholars tell us that there is no point in knowing what you want when the forces contending over you could kill you. To the geologist, it is nearly two miles in circumference and 200 feet deep. And now the mortal spirit seeking so openly, so fearlessly — To raise the veil.
Glück attended Sarah Lawrence College and later Columbia University. That it turns out to be impossible is just another of the dilemmas brilliantly and unflinching dramatized in this icy, intense book. Once again, the author is obsessed with myth: this time she focuses on Persephone and the landscape of Averno, a small crater lake that the ancient Romans saw as the entrance to the underworld. Averno is a 2006 National Book Award Finalist for Poetry. We are, each of us, the one who wakens first, who stirs first and sees, there in the first dawn, the stranger.
In between, the pit of disappearance. Most were just wastes of space: pages full of three-word lines in two-line paragraphs in multi-section poems, each poem just over a page, so that a total of some hundred words might take five or six pages. Gluck has earned a place in that distinguished company of chthonic poets. This seems a subversion as well. The answer was: the barrier of the earth intervened.
It was puzzling — no one knew where the farmer had gone. Bad enough, they think, to watch me fall apart. Embellishments we call hypotheses- There were too many roads, too many versions. When I tell this to my children they pay no attention. Glück masterfully establishes and ponders equations between her key terms: death, sex, girlhood, hell. Empathic and unforgiving, the voice that unifies Persephone's despondent homelessness, Demeter's rageful mothering and Hades's smitten jealousy is unique in recent poetry, and reveals the flawed humanity of the divine. Big companies like this are not computer professionals, they are simply technology stores who hire thrid parties to deal with highly technical issues.
She does know the earth is run by mothers, this much is certain. She is the author of a great many collections, the winner of a great many prizes. Hundreds of teachers across the country including this reviewer will be sharing it with their students. A voice poised between challenge and cowering, distance and closeness, indifference and intimacy. Far from the dull outposts where American poets have become willfully obscure or adopted antique models to assemble poems of scant content, poets like Glück are tapping the wellsprings of myth, collective and personal, to fuel their imaginations and, with hard-earned clarity and subtle music, to struggle with some of our oldest, most intractable fears — isolation and oblivion, the dissolution of love, the failure of memory, the breakdown of the body and destruction of the spirit. Averno is an extended lamentation, its long, restless poems no less spellbinding for being without conventional resoltution or consolation, no less ravishing for being savage, grief-stricken. I wish she would come to Europe and give a lecture on the mainland, for example in The Netherlands ehem where I live.
And sometimes you see that Gluck has a special talent in producing poetry which seems to miss whatever it aims to hit. Many of these poems are inspired by the myth of Hades and Persephone and the consequences that resulted from that. The earth, he thinks, has overpowered me. Columbia Granger's World of Poetry Online. Certainly it demonstrates that she is writing at the peak of her powers. But not to my children.
The smell of the wheat persisted, a kind of random aroma intermixed with various weeds, for which no human use has been as yet devised. This redoubtable collection gives Averno is as bracing and clean and as perfect as the stark scherzos of winter evoked by Louise Glück. He Hades wants to say, I love you, not I preface this by saying I am a huge fan of Louise Gluck's poetry - she'd have to fall a long way for me to not consider her breathtaking, amazing, articulately intense - a creative flame. The great plates invisibly shifting and changing- And in the dark room, the lovers sleeping in each other's arms. The field parched, dry - the deadness in place already so to speak. The assignment was to fall in love.
Averno may be Glück's masterpiece. For the ancient Romans, it ran deeper — all the way to the underworld. So when I talk about this collection of poetry I cannot pretend that I have much to say which is deserving of your attention. Glück currently lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts and teaches at Yale University, where she is the Rosencranz Writer in Residence, and in the Creative Writing Program of Boston University. Glück isn't one to flinch in the face of suffering; if it's glib talk or easy irony you want, or a soothing metaphysical cocktail that promises redemption without pain, hers is not the poetry for you.
In 2008, Glück was selected to receive the for mastery in the art of poetry. Glück has earned a place in that distinguished company of chthonic poets. And maybe you can see, in that poem above, the hints of the bad writing creeping in and redeemed in that final stanza. When I saw the field again, autumn was finished. In her latest book, Gluck ushers us into the realm of the dead: Averno is the lake west of Naples that, according to the Romans, was the entrance to the Underworld.