Brenda Hillman - Böcker

Drawing on four decades of work and including new poems published here for the first time, this selection of Mei-mei Berssenbrugge's poetry displays the extraordinary luminosity characteristic of her style - its delicate, meticulous observation, great scenic imagination, and unusual degree of comfort with states of indetermination, contingency, and flux.

The poems in "Writing the Silences" represent more than 60 years of Richard O. Moore's work as a poet. Selected from seven full-length manuscripts written between 1946 and 2008, these poems reflect not only Moore's place in literary history - he is the last of his generation of the legendary group of San Francisco Renaissance poets - but also his reemergence into today's literary world after an important career as a filmmaker and producer in public radio and television. "Writing the Silences" reflects Moore's commitment to freedom of form, his interest in language itself, and his dedication to issues of social justice and ecology.

"[Hillman's] work is fierce but loving, risk-taking, and beautiful." — Harvard Review  An iconoclastic ecopoet who has led the way for many young and emerging artists, Brenda Hillman continues to re-cast innovative poetic forms as instruments for tracking human and non-human experiences. At times the poet deploys short dialogues, meditations or trance techniques as means of rendering inner states; other times she uses narrative, documentary or scientific materials to record daily events during a time of pandemic, planetary crisis, political and racial turmoil. Hillman proposes that poetry offers courage even in times of existential peril; her work represents what is most necessary and fresh in American poetry.  During an enchantment in the life  Do you love a living personabsolutely? Tell them now.In a half-unwieldy life you made, underthe hyaline sky, while the deaddrank from zigzag pools nearby,if they saved you in your wild incapacities, in timing of the world's harmin a little pettiness in your own heart while others tookyour madrigals in shreds to a tribunal,when others said you should feel gratefulto be minimally adequate for the world'striple exposure or some tired committee... The ones who love us, how do theybreak through our defenses?We're tired today. Come back later.Their baffled voices melting our wax wallswith a candle, the ones who understandwhat being is—the glowing, the broken, the wheels, the brave ones—they have their courage,you have yours,,,;when you meet the one you love,it is so rare. When you meetthe one who loves you, it is extremely rare.

Meditations on time, space, and objects in houses, as well as lives of children, mothers & non-human creatures in domestic spaces_x000D_/>_x000D_/>Each of Brenda Hillman's books has been transformative for her readers, and her twelfth collection is no exception. Building on previous volumes about seasons, days and minutes, Hillman concludes her masterful quartet about time with an ecological journey into a family home of the mid-twentieth century. Here, magical poems explore rooms as opportunities for dream, and domestic objects as the dream-shapes where culture and imagination inform each other. In that way, the poet celebrates the layered lives of children and adults, including, strikingly, the life of her mother, a native of Brazil whose presence intimately links the processes of inner vision and daily tasks. Like Hillman's other pioneering work, these poems are personal and collective; they braid the spiritual, the scientific, the political and the visionary. Short spare lyrics are placed beside longer pieces; small photos add to the visual structures of the pages. One long prose poem explores the child's neurological anxiety and the awakening of mid-century environmental consciousness, while another is a meditation on women's domestic work with textiles and the rhetoric of literary repetition. The closing sequence gives homage to unlikely intersections of humans with non-human lives, including dust mites, moths and mycorrhizal roots. This remarkable collection will plunge readers into the mysteries of childhood and of childhood houses everywhere._x000D_/>_x000D_/>[Sample Poem]_x000D_/>_x000D_/>The newspaper _x000D_/>_x000D_/>Sunlight crosses the room bearing elastic dust motes._x000D_/>_x000D_/>Clouds graze steadily over the house._x000D_/>_x000D_/>Trucks cross the suburbs; they have been cleared for departure._x000D_/>_x000D_/>The mother scours the morning paper for facts _x000D_/>& uplifting stories, laughing— _x000D_/>almost a little snort—  _x000D_/>maybe it's disbelief, maybe_x000D_/>it's puffs of air pushed out by her idea of God. _x000D_/>_x000D_/>In this line, it's the next century,_x000D_/>_x000D_/>in this line the mother & her little laugh are gone,_x000D_/>_x000D_/>in this line two ravens eat a carcass in Maryland,_x000D_/>_x000D_/>a hurried driver doesn't hit a fawn,_x000D_/>        _x000D_/>the vote is being tallied, the red seeps across the map_x000D_/>_x000D_/>& drips from the thick finger of Florida into a sea _x000D_/>        of pre-named storms, & the sea of blood rises,_x000D_/>_x000D_/>the small barge carrying corpses of fact & dream,_x000D_/>_x000D_/>their bones wrapped together in newsprint.

In the title poem "Fortress", the medieval walled castle is the stronghold in which the family dwells. There are stories here of people in the "fortresses" of the self, the city, or the natural world. All these poems have in common a lyrical approach to solitude ("the only protection / against death/ was to love solitude") and an ironical vision for which love of beauty and the longing for the world are the cure. Hillman combines the imagistic with narrative; in her poems lyricism wars with irony; the solitary noticing consciousness is in control - because the observed world seems beautiful to the observer, great joy is possible despite the sense of difficulty or sorrow. The language here is rich and elegant. Truth is relentlessly addressed.

The poems in Brenda Hillman's new collection, a companion volume to her recent Death Tratates, offer a dynamic vision of a universe founded on the tensions between light and dark , existence and non-existence, male and female, spirit and matter. Informed in part by Gnostic concepts of the separate soul in search of its divine origins ("spirit held by matter"). This dualistic vision is cast in contemporary terms and seeks resolution of these tensions through acceptance.

Brenda Hillman begins her new book in a place of mourning and listening that is deeply transformative. By turns plain and transcendent, these poems meditate on trees, bacteria, wasps, buildings, roots, and stars, ending with twinned elegies and poems of praise that open into spaces that are both magical and archetypal for human imagination: forests and seashores. As always, Hillman's vision is entirely original, her forms inventive and playful. At times the language turns feral as the poet feels her way toward other consciousnesses, into planetary time. This is poetry as a discipline of love and service to the world, whose lines shepherd us through grief and into an ethics of active resistance. Hillman's prior books include Practical Water and Seasonal Works with Letters on Fire, which received the Griffin Prize for Poetry. Extra Hidden Life, Among the Days is a visionary and critically important work for our time. A free reader's companion is available online at http://brendahillman.site.wesleyan.edu. Hardcover is un-jacketed.

The last living member of the original circle of Anarcho-pacifist poets at the birth of the San Francisco Renaissance, Richard O. Moore presents his second book, Particulars of Place. The title poem is a meditation on life in the twilight of American Empire, posing the question of how to live in an age of endless warfare. Throughout, Moore's commitment to social justice mingles with his interest in Wittgenstein's linguistic philosophy, resulting in a poetic amalgam unique to Moore himself. Reflecting a lifetime of devotion to the art of poetry, Particulars of Place confirms Moore's paradoxical position as a newly emerging old master.