Nationally acclaimed poet, photographer, filmmaker, and novelist James Baker Hall has long been regarded as one of Kentucky's most profound artists. Hall's growing body of work is an essential part of Kentucky's literary tradition, and yet his poetry in particular transcends the borders of the Commonwealth.The Total Light Process collects poems spanning Hall's celebrated cNationally acclaimed poet, photographer, filmmaker, and novelist James Baker Hall has long been regarded as one of Kentucky's most profound artists. Hall's growing body of work is an essential part of Kentucky's literary tradition, and yet his poetry in particular transcends the borders of the Commonwealth.The Total Light Process collects poems spanning Hall's celebrated career as well as new poems that have never before been published. The subjects of Hall's poems range from humorous and revealing portraits of his fellow writers and friends Wendell Berry, Ed McClanahan, and Gurney Norman, to the traumatic experience of his mother's suicide when he was eight years old, to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and the tragic murder of Matthew Shepherd....
|Title||:||The Total Light Process: New & Selected Poems|
|Number of Pages||:||288 Pages|
|Status||:||Available For Download|
|Last checked||:||21 Minutes ago!|
The Total Light Process: New & Selected Poems Reviews
I have no objectivity when it comes to James Baker Hall. He was a superb photographer, a superb poet, a suburb teacher.And, incidentally, on of the best describers of cats I've ever read. For exampleWithin the weathered barnthis drama of back-lit cat walking alongthe dusty crossbeam so cat-likely steppingover tobacco sticksfrom "Mouse Elegy"she hangs out in a culvertI pull off the road and climb downwith a plastic cup of foodemptying it out on a scrap aboard I took down thereif I've got the time to visit I usually doshe stays at the other end of the culvertas though she'd never ever come closer. . .she never lets me see herlick herself or sleepfrom "The Mother on the Other Side of the World"(The poem is or seems to be about the cat)a dappled gray gelding at the edge of the woods movedinto the beam of my flashlight rocking his head back and forthsmearing his visage he knew a lot more than I didthat was as much sense as I could makeof the goings on down there. . .now and then a snorta whinny untilshe was gonereplaced after the passage of timeby a sleek stray dark gray catyet to be named leaping upas I leaped down hopscotchingthrough my echoes and my lighttoward my handfrom "Yet to be Named"When the sun reaches the flat rockon which the cat sleepsthe heat dreams her.It's as though she isremembering something.She stands upand changesshape . . . .The cat stretches as sheenters the shadow of a tree, pulling her last leg inslowly. She crosses the yard as though it were her conditionto change shape with every move.. . .She is the only thingThis is the only world. from "Old Places"
I get so much pleasure when reading this book. Jim's poetry on the page conjures his voice, intent and intimate. He leans in close and purposefully speaks his lived truth.