Poems consider mortality, grief, loneliness, violence, religion, the past, art, nature, and love....
|Title||:||To Hold in My Hand: Selected Poems, 1955-1983|
|Number of Pages||:||233 Pages|
|Status||:||Available For Download|
|Last checked||:||21 Minutes ago!|
To Hold in My Hand: Selected Poems, 1955-1983 Reviews
A very stunning collection of poems. There are poems of grief, and life, and place and nature and politics. The variety and the talent that shine through are extraordinary.
Hilda Morley is one of the finest American poets. "To Hold in My Hand: Selected Poems" is Morley's best collection to date. It does not include some later poems (she died in 1998,) but includes works from the fifties through the early eighties. Morley's poems are meditations on life in the richness of its fragmentary recall. Hilda Morley rewards in constant re-reading and her poetry holds even more strongly with time.Morley is regarded as a Black Mountain poet, and lived and taught at Black Mountain in the fifties. She could be regarded, as a New York School poet as well as she knew the major artists from the forties on including Pollock, De Kooning, Rothko, Reinhardt and Kline as well as the composers Cage and Feldman and at Black Mountain she became friends with Robert Rauschenberg. She later wrote poems on some of these artists and their work.Morley knew H.D. in London in the thirties. H.D. influenced her early work. Later she knew many of the important poets in America, but was particularly close to Denise Levertov.Hilda Morley was married to the American/German composer, Stefan Wolpe, who influenced her attitude towards her art.Jim Elledge remarked that, "as in all of Morley's work, the lyric and the intellect are melded and displayed subtly--passion and thought only opposite sides of the same Moebius strip." And that "Morley's voice is at once gentle and formidable, and always compelling. Her vision is universal while personal, often painfully so."Carolyn Kizer has remarked: "In reading Morley, as we are wrapped up in seeing, and sensing what we see, we become aware that it is all suffused in light. We are in the presence of the luminosity of memory, and of life remembered, endured, celebrated and transfigured by light."
I thought this would be better than it was. It seems too self-congratulatory and obvious most of the time.