Rose Solari Reviews Four Poetry Collections Dealing with Grief
Solari's anticipated monthly poetry column in the Washington Independent Review of Books dropped today. She tackles four new collections by women poets dealing with grief.
This month, Rose Solari's column for the Washington Independent Review of Books looks at three shining new collections from new and established poets, as well as the best of Jane Kenyon. Each collection, in a way, deals with grief (from her review):
"Grief is a perennial subject for poets, and for good reason: In making art out of our losses, we not only memorialize our dead but can, with luck and skill, sing or speak our way into healing. Four new collections by women poets all revolve, in one way or another, around grief and its aftermath. Each offers poetry of exploration, catharsis, and even consolation."
The four collections reviewed this month are:
Allison Benis White's The Wendys (from the fantastic independent press, Four Way Books)
Jil Bialosky's Asylum: A Personal, Historic, Natural Inquiry in 103 Lyric Sections
Lesley Wheeler's The State She's In (from another wonderful small press, Tinderbox Editions)
Poet Jane Kenyon and editor Donald Hall's The Best Poems of Jane Kenyon (from Graywolf)
Check out Rose Solari's live show "Rose Reads" every Wednesday at 4pm EDT on her Facebook Page.
Remembering W.S. Merwin: Grace Cavalieri’s Two Interviews with the Literary Giant
In 2000, the bicentennial of the Library of Congress, four Poets Laureate were appointed just for the occasion. The four dignitaries were W.S. Merwin, Robert Pinsky, Rita Dove, and Louise Gluck. I was to record one after the other for 4 hours. That first meeting with Merwin was unforgettable, as he arrived for an hour interview without so much as one poem in his hands. Fortunately, I had brought ten books for his signature and we puzzled our way through. He was delighted to recognize some of his first slim published volumes that were out of print, as well as a few collector’s items.
Fiddlin’ Around in Ireland
Nothing buoys the spirits like a walk along Grafton Street. Gray day or sunny, it’s bright with noise and laughter. Loud “hellos,” babies crying, neighborly gossip, rich brogues and lilting Irish airs float up onto the breeze. Our chosen course allowed for a stroll through St. Stephen’s Green. Sunlight dappled the leafy brakes. Inspired by the moment, Lawrence liberated his fiddle and sawed out a hornpipe. He was joined in his performance by a pair of amorous ducks.
On Grafton street we were immediately surrounded by music. A couple of 9 and 10-year-old boys, Donald Reagon and Paul O’Neill, were delighting passersby with smooth moves on the fiddle and concertina. College students with shaved heads played sitars. Old men played jazz. A guitarist somewhere was plucking out George Harrison tunes and singing, “Here comes the sun, little darlin’ here comes the sun.”
On that musical street there was only one poet—a threadbare character who, for a pound or a punt (Irish pound) or nothing at all, would recite a poem by a poet of one’s choosing. I selected Yeats and was honored with “The Fiddler of Dooney”:
“When I play on my fiddle in Dooney, Folk dance like a wave of the sea . . .”
An Interview with Elizabeth Hazen, Baltimore Poet and Baker Award Finalist
Baltimore poet, Elizabeth Hazen’s first collection of poems is entitled Chaos Theories. Last week the young poet was announced as a finalists for the prestigious Baker Artist Award in literature. We sat down to talk with her about her experience in Baltimore as an artist and what programs like The Baker Awards mean to artists.