Thanks Elsie for posting and drawing our attention to that book – I did read the interview with Hirsch in Poets and Writers and have been meaning to get the book – the excerpt from Amazon was quite surprisingly extensive. I know my first response on reading some of those crits was “poor Ed” but that was in response to the father, not the poet and still is – I would support the need to critique it from a poetic (or not) standpoint – to me this book fits more into the poetry therapy camp – a very good thing, yes, but not necessarily publishable “as poetry”—had the book not been titled “A Poem” but “A Memoir” I probably would not have a major problem with it—as it is, I found myself wanting to turn it into blank verse—the content is rich as are many (many!) of the images in it and I think it could be an extremely powerful narrative (or perhaps a series of short poems) – but to do that the author would surely need much more time and distance from the event. I do think death – just as it takes many forms (suicide, accident, illness) can also be the object/subject of many forms (prose, poetry, fiction, nonfiction) but you are right – the form should fit. I’ll probably order the book—I may even recommend it— not for the form but the content (I teach nurses -- just like I recommend books like Lewis's A Grief Observed which surely this is) . I also write about death and decay and dementia and generally try to put that into formal forms – to me that makes sense and helps to make sense out of these life events ….trying to take something that doesn’t or that, in the case of Alzheimer’s, is a situation “out of control” and trying to impose some control on/over it – giving some structure to the seeming lack of it (I think of Frost’s Death of the Hired Man and Thomas’s Do Not Go Gentle” )… I have a poem now on the suicide of my uncle an editor has requested for publication (I was in his workshop last summer) – it is a poem I’ve workshopped at several other conferences and had rejected a number of times—so—revision after revision it is finally “there” and ready for others to view. (when my aunt read it she cried -- that didn't make it a good poem but it did say to me that yes, it was worth working on to share it with others) When I read Hirsch’s "poem" it seems to me to still be in the draft or workshop stage…I’d look forward to seeing the final product -- without having read the whole thing I don't feel comfortable doing an Amazon critique -- my comments are just based on the excerpt

I've been thinking about Elise's, and the original negative reviewer's, essential question since Elise first posted about it. It made me thoughtful because I've sometimes noted in reviews that a collection was not musical, not attentive to sound and wordplay. So Bill's posts made me stop and think. But here's the thing: those collections had other strengths, which I wrote about. Poetry can be plain-spoken, even flat in its diction, and still capture us with things like emotional charge, pitch-perfect metaphor or simile, striking image. Even extreme understatement can create a sort of controlled tension.

Music is important, but it's not the whole of poetry.

The thing about "Lycidas," though, is that it's not real grief. Milton hardly knew Edward King. He was just asked to contribute, along with others, to a commemorative volume being put together by King's friends. For Milton, it was an opportunity to put his talent to the test at this early stage. It was criticized by Dr. Johnson as being too ornate to be genuine grief. On the other hand, when he does write about real grief, e.g. "Methought I saw my late espoused saint," the language is very quiet and toned down (though, of course, haunting and lyrical), and I like it much better as an elegy than "Lycidas." The last line is absolutely heartbreaking; whereas "Lycidas" doesn't really move me.

I haven't read Gabriel, so I can't comment on it, but I do find the tone of the comments unfortunate. If a reviewer says that a father looking at his dead son should be "an incredible moment" or "a truly visionary moment," it makes me wonder if he/she has ever faced a comparable situation. Even if it's true that the poetry is flat, I wish the reviewer could have been more sensitive. On the other hand, by publishing it, the author knows that he's opening himself up to this possibility. So it's part of the business, I suppose.

Nausheen

I realize that "music" isn't the only thing involved in good poetry, but the problem is that I haven't found any of the other things you mention, Maryann -- "emotional charge, pitch-perfect metaphor or simile, striking image" -- yet. I haven't read the whole work yet, but nothing I've read so far makes me want to do so.

An interesting discussion. I haven't read "Gabriel" yet either, just the New Yorker article.

Reading that article reminded me of another piece of elegiac writing that also first appeared in the New Yorker--not as a profile like the piece on Hirsch, but just a straight excerpt from a longer book. It was prose, a piece called "The Wave" by Francisco Goldman, taken from his book Say her Name. The excerpt described the death of his young wife in a swimming accident.

And it was such an extraordinary piece of writing. In writing about his wife he achieved an amazing thing, he brought her to life on the page. So vividly, so beautifully, so individually, that when I got to the description of that dreadful day, and her death, I felt physically and emotionally shocked and bereft. (Even though it was clear where the narrative was going from the start). He brought her "back to life" so well in the writing that you felt you knew and loved her too, and when she died, mourned her bitterly. I bought the whole book as soon as I could. It is amazing.

I say all this because I am thinking that if Hirsch has vividly evoked his lost son on the page, that is an amazing achievement and worth the doing in itself. I think the New Yorker essay implied this was the case. And therefore I would think that there would be "emotional charge."

But I haven't read the book myself and so cannot judge the work as poetry.

The latest development, in Tomorrow's Times:

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/11/09/bo...ref=books&_r=0

Perhaps Mr. Hirsh has had the double-edged luck to draw favorable reviews that failed to quote his best lines. As much I feel sympathy for his loss, however, I'm mostly nonplussed by what I've read. I'm not going to wade into the fight about whether or not it's poetry: whatever you want to call it, the subject moves me, but the words fall flat. The striking images, the lilt and roll of loss -- I don't see those qualities in anything quoted.

Perhaps the reviewers held the cards too close for me to get a good sense of the book; or perhaps the whole experience was too close, still, for words.

Best,

Ed

What touches me in what I've read is the author's love for and even pride in a young man who seems to have been pretty much a total loss. You can only feel this way about someone or something to which you have attached the all-powerful word "mine".

Yes. Very much yes. But I've known and conversed with any number of people who've mourned their loved ones. Is this memorable poetry? I've not delved into it, but have seen no reason to do so as of yet.