Status
Available
Call number
Genres
Publication
New York : W.W. Norton, c2007.
Description
"Rich's lyrics are powerful and mournful, drenched in memory." --San Francisco Chronicle
User reviews
LibraryThing member szarka
The poems here are more elliptical than Rich's early work with which I'm most familiar. Some are so dense as to be impenetrable, while others read like scattered fragments swept together into a jumble. In most, though, there's a phrase or two that shines out like a jewel. I suspect that their more
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hidden charms will become apparent on re-reading... [2008-01-07] Show Less
LibraryThing member lorax
The poems in Adrienne Rich's latest collection demonstrate her versatility, ranging from the accessible (though never simplistic) such as "This is Not The Room"to the nearly opaque, such as "Draft #2006", where evocative images in separate fragments such as
Clockface says too early, body prideful
into another day, reclaiming istself piecemeal in private ritual
acts.
are difficult to interpret as a whole.
Many of the poems, however, are equally evocative but more accessible. Political concerns weigh heavily in this volume, in some of the clearest and most biting lines such as these from "Calibrations":
Ghost limbs go into spasm in the night
You come back from war with the body you have
However, the book is not a polemic, and the most wrenching poem may be the intensely personal "Hubble Photographs: After Sappho" (which is perhaps more intensely personal for me than even for Rich, but the same will be true for other poems for other people).
Every poem is a different mood (though, unsurprisingly for anyone familiar with Rich's work, none of these moods are cheerful) and the poems are shorter on average than much of Rich's earlier work, making this an easy book to dip into, spend a few minutes reading a poem, and the rest of the day contemplating it.
Clockface says too early, body prideful
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and humble shamblesinto another day, reclaiming istself piecemeal in private ritual
acts.
are difficult to interpret as a whole.
Many of the poems, however, are equally evocative but more accessible. Political concerns weigh heavily in this volume, in some of the clearest and most biting lines such as these from "Calibrations":
Ghost limbs go into spasm in the night
You come back from war with the body you have
However, the book is not a polemic, and the most wrenching poem may be the intensely personal "Hubble Photographs: After Sappho" (which is perhaps more intensely personal for me than even for Rich, but the same will be true for other poems for other people).
Every poem is a different mood (though, unsurprisingly for anyone familiar with Rich's work, none of these moods are cheerful) and the poems are shorter on average than much of Rich's earlier work, making this an easy book to dip into, spend a few minutes reading a poem, and the rest of the day contemplating it.
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LibraryThing member comfypants
These poems are non-stop sorrow and misery. There's never beauty, never passion, and certainly never humor. Love is occasionally present, but not as a focus, only as an accessory to misery.
Depressing subject matter aside, I still don't find much to appreciate in these poems. The tone is often
Maybe someone else could enjoy this book. It might even be recommendable for, say, an emo English major. But I'm someone who likes poets like E.E. Cummings and Richard Brautigan; for me, all I got out of this was the relief when I finished it.
Depressing subject matter aside, I still don't find much to appreciate in these poems. The tone is often
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pretentious to the point where it seems like Rich is trying to prove that she's an intellectual. And as for sound and rhythm, those elements simply aren't used at all; words might as well not be things people say out loud.Maybe someone else could enjoy this book. It might even be recommendable for, say, an emo English major. But I'm someone who likes poets like E.E. Cummings and Richard Brautigan; for me, all I got out of this was the relief when I finished it.
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LibraryThing member WalkerMedia
"What I meant to write, belov'd critic, then struck it out/
thinking you might accuse me of/
whatever you would:/
I wanted a sensual materialism to utter pleasure/
Something beyond a cry that could sound like a groan"
These words from Rich's "Letters Censored, Shredded, Returned to Sender, or Judged
This is not to say that I can't admire a poet even when I disagree. The quoted lines from her Communist hero Gramsci throughout the poem "Letters..." had a gift of language I could not deny even as I disagreed with their sentiment. They were clear and moving. But there is little pleasure in the verbage Rich composes for us. There are ineffective spaces serving only to startle in the initial "Voyage to the Denoument," so pretentious that the feeling of the situation is lost. But perhaps this gets at it exactly, as she proclaims in "Skeleton Key," "From now on, only/reason's drugged and dreamless sleep." Even when the imagery is given her, such as in her French-English translation "Piano Melancolique" she loses the flow and the vividness of the original author. Her "Hotel" which I can perceive only as an overdone poke at sentimentality goes so far as to be ineffective. Her "Rereading the Dead Lecturer" gives the feel of name-dropping instead of communication.
There are bright moments, however. There is "The University Reopens as the Floods Recede," a well-done commentary on the utter irrelevance of the ethical discussions of academia when true injustices and moral quandries rage outside. Her "Even Then Maybe" shows what power can be drawn when she discovers the sound of words blended with meaning, rhythm and flow, line breaks and even those obnoxious mid-line spaces effective for once. Her "In Plain Sight" actually conjures up imagery because she doesn't try so *very hard* at sounding educated. "Archaic" does transmit a mood well.
Generally, though, this is a book from a woman who once had feeling, but finding it untended, had to let it go. Some poems reveal. From "Time Exposures," "Is there a doctor in the house....who at each and every grave/ side knew/ what could be done/ he'd done....And what's the house?" But pain untended festers and turns the body cold. And cold, losing the feeling anger in favor of distant indignation, aged, she wonders aloud, the rebel who sold out just enough to academia to pay the bills:
"They asked me, is this time worse than another.
I said, for whom?
Wanted to show them something. While I wrote on the
chalkboard they drifted out. I turned back to an empty room.
Maybe I couldn't write fast enough. Maybe it was too soon."
thinking you might accuse me of/
whatever you would:/
I wanted a sensual materialism to utter pleasure/
Something beyond a cry that could sound like a groan"
These words from Rich's "Letters Censored, Shredded, Returned to Sender, or Judged
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Unfit to Send" can be quite revealing, though not as she would have liked. The reader can tell that her words are carefully crafted, but not for pleasure but rather its precise opposite. Make no bones about it, Rich writes poetry grandly in the style of the bitter intellectual, emo with additional IQ points. I won't quote the ugly lines. Here are the ramblings of someone who has read too much Foucalt and spent countless hours angrily intellectualizing the oppression of the "group of the month." A pity that all the aesthetic distancing took away the beauty of language, using it only as a tool to shock.This is not to say that I can't admire a poet even when I disagree. The quoted lines from her Communist hero Gramsci throughout the poem "Letters..." had a gift of language I could not deny even as I disagreed with their sentiment. They were clear and moving. But there is little pleasure in the verbage Rich composes for us. There are ineffective spaces serving only to startle in the initial "Voyage to the Denoument," so pretentious that the feeling of the situation is lost. But perhaps this gets at it exactly, as she proclaims in "Skeleton Key," "From now on, only/reason's drugged and dreamless sleep." Even when the imagery is given her, such as in her French-English translation "Piano Melancolique" she loses the flow and the vividness of the original author. Her "Hotel" which I can perceive only as an overdone poke at sentimentality goes so far as to be ineffective. Her "Rereading the Dead Lecturer" gives the feel of name-dropping instead of communication.
There are bright moments, however. There is "The University Reopens as the Floods Recede," a well-done commentary on the utter irrelevance of the ethical discussions of academia when true injustices and moral quandries rage outside. Her "Even Then Maybe" shows what power can be drawn when she discovers the sound of words blended with meaning, rhythm and flow, line breaks and even those obnoxious mid-line spaces effective for once. Her "In Plain Sight" actually conjures up imagery because she doesn't try so *very hard* at sounding educated. "Archaic" does transmit a mood well.
Generally, though, this is a book from a woman who once had feeling, but finding it untended, had to let it go. Some poems reveal. From "Time Exposures," "Is there a doctor in the house....who at each and every grave/ side knew/ what could be done/ he'd done....And what's the house?" But pain untended festers and turns the body cold. And cold, losing the feeling anger in favor of distant indignation, aged, she wonders aloud, the rebel who sold out just enough to academia to pay the bills:
"They asked me, is this time worse than another.
I said, for whom?
Wanted to show them something. While I wrote on the
chalkboard they drifted out. I turned back to an empty room.
Maybe I couldn't write fast enough. Maybe it was too soon."
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LibraryThing member HeathMochaFrost
One of my favorite pieces of poetry is this quote from “Toward the Solstice,” a poem dated 1977 which appears in the book The Dream of a Common Language:
I am trying to hold in one steady glance
all the parts of my life.
I have enjoyed a good deal of Adrienne Rich’s poetry since I bought Your
There are poems in the book that I liked very much. “Hubble Photographs: after Sappho” is wonderful and profound, but also straightforward, expressing a message clearly and with great eloquence. The poem “Director’s Notes” has a tone which really does read like the kinds of notes the director of a play or other performance will give to the cast. That kind of voice is unusual for Rich, but she hits it perfectly, and the result is very good. I enjoyed Rich’s translation of extracts from “Melancholy Piano,” and the short poems called “Three Elegies.” Finally, I found the longer poem “Letters Censored, Shredded, Returned to Sender or Judged Unfit to Send” to be a strong example of the kinds of political poems for which Adrienne Rich is well-known.
Many of Rich’s poems are not clear narratives, but seem more like collections of phrases brought together to evoke a mood, or to hint at a story taking place off-stage, leaving the meaning open to the reader’s interpretation. Because of this, I find myself relating to phrases, to parts of a poem, sometimes with little regard for the rest of it. In “This is Not the Room,” it is the last stanza that is most real to me:
This is the room
where truth scrubs around the pedestal of the toilet
flings her rag into the bucket
straightens up spits at the mirror
I read the book in mid-autumn, and there were lines in a few poems that echoed the time of year. In “Skeleton Key,” Rich writes, “These are the shortening days / you forgot about bent on your own design.” As I grow more tired and moody, lines like these from “Midnight, the Same Day,” seem to reflect me: “But rest is no act of will / and gifts to the self come back unopened.” The final lines of a stronger poem, “The University Reopens as the Floods Recede,” might well sum up Rich’s perspective on the intersection of the personal and political, a theme that has been in her work for decades:
I’ll work with you on this bad matter I can
but won’t give you the time of day
if you think it’s hypothetical
There were several poems in the collection that simply didn’t “speak” to me. Poems like “Tactile Value,” “Rhyme,” “A Burning Kangaroo,” and “Rereading The Dead Lecturer” were like that: either they didn’t stay with me, or they weren’t as strong as some of the poems I’ve mentioned. I found “Hotel” to be very frustrating; its repetition of “time” and “olden time,” paired with excessive, heavy-handed rhyming, make it impossible to discern the point she’s trying to make. A lot of Rich’s work is serious and far from subtle, particularly when there is a statement to be made, but her language usually works toward that statement, while in “Hotel,” the repetition and ineffective rhyme are all I remember.
I am glad I had the opportunity to read and review this book, and I did enjoy it more than not. There were a few too many poems that read more like groups of images and phrases put together than like truly whole poems. But for me, that works nearly as well, as I’ve often taken away the parts that touched me most. There are enough such “parts” in this book to have made it a worthwhile read. And, it has made me curious to reread those earlier books that gave me such enjoyment long ago, to reassess them, and perhaps see myself in new ways as well.
I am trying to hold in one steady glance
all the parts of my life.
I have enjoyed a good deal of Adrienne Rich’s poetry since I bought Your
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Native Land, Your Life as a teenager, and read the entire book the day I got it. I have not followed her as closely in recent years, but I was very excited to obtain an Advance Reading Copy of her newest work, Telephone Ringing in the Labyrinth. I have read it, reread it, marked passages, and then skimmed through it again. Ultimately, I feel a bit disappointed; the book as a whole doesn’t speak to me as some of Rich’s other works had.There are poems in the book that I liked very much. “Hubble Photographs: after Sappho” is wonderful and profound, but also straightforward, expressing a message clearly and with great eloquence. The poem “Director’s Notes” has a tone which really does read like the kinds of notes the director of a play or other performance will give to the cast. That kind of voice is unusual for Rich, but she hits it perfectly, and the result is very good. I enjoyed Rich’s translation of extracts from “Melancholy Piano,” and the short poems called “Three Elegies.” Finally, I found the longer poem “Letters Censored, Shredded, Returned to Sender or Judged Unfit to Send” to be a strong example of the kinds of political poems for which Adrienne Rich is well-known.
Many of Rich’s poems are not clear narratives, but seem more like collections of phrases brought together to evoke a mood, or to hint at a story taking place off-stage, leaving the meaning open to the reader’s interpretation. Because of this, I find myself relating to phrases, to parts of a poem, sometimes with little regard for the rest of it. In “This is Not the Room,” it is the last stanza that is most real to me:
This is the room
where truth scrubs around the pedestal of the toilet
flings her rag into the bucket
straightens up spits at the mirror
I read the book in mid-autumn, and there were lines in a few poems that echoed the time of year. In “Skeleton Key,” Rich writes, “These are the shortening days / you forgot about bent on your own design.” As I grow more tired and moody, lines like these from “Midnight, the Same Day,” seem to reflect me: “But rest is no act of will / and gifts to the self come back unopened.” The final lines of a stronger poem, “The University Reopens as the Floods Recede,” might well sum up Rich’s perspective on the intersection of the personal and political, a theme that has been in her work for decades:
I’ll work with you on this bad matter I can
but won’t give you the time of day
if you think it’s hypothetical
There were several poems in the collection that simply didn’t “speak” to me. Poems like “Tactile Value,” “Rhyme,” “A Burning Kangaroo,” and “Rereading The Dead Lecturer” were like that: either they didn’t stay with me, or they weren’t as strong as some of the poems I’ve mentioned. I found “Hotel” to be very frustrating; its repetition of “time” and “olden time,” paired with excessive, heavy-handed rhyming, make it impossible to discern the point she’s trying to make. A lot of Rich’s work is serious and far from subtle, particularly when there is a statement to be made, but her language usually works toward that statement, while in “Hotel,” the repetition and ineffective rhyme are all I remember.
I am glad I had the opportunity to read and review this book, and I did enjoy it more than not. There were a few too many poems that read more like groups of images and phrases put together than like truly whole poems. But for me, that works nearly as well, as I’ve often taken away the parts that touched me most. There are enough such “parts” in this book to have made it a worthwhile read. And, it has made me curious to reread those earlier books that gave me such enjoyment long ago, to reassess them, and perhaps see myself in new ways as well.
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LibraryThing member PDE
Many years ago, perhaps in the 70's, I read Diving Into the Wreck and other collections of Adrienne Rich's poetry. I found her poems to speak of emotions I was unable to articulate on my own. Now, all these years later, Ms. Rich writes poetry equally rich in emotions, yet reflecting the passing
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years and her gained maturity. Once more, she speaks to my life in surprising and moving ways. After I read the first poem in this collection, I wanted to call my Buddhist friends to read it to them, after saying to them, "Here is the soul of change and impermanence, brought to the human heart." Not every poem in this collection moved me in that way, of course, but many did. This collection is more mature and deeper than those of Ms. Rich that I recall reading when I was so much younger, as was she. Show Less
LibraryThing member vanessairvinedd
Adrienne Rich's latest collection takes you to the minute details of life. Rich has an interesting way of articulating the smallest thought, observation, or action. I enjoyed reading this book for its lesson on how to pay attention to life, and how to pay attention to yourself.
LibraryThing member cammie
Rich's poetry is one that I always wish I liked more than I do. Yet, I will always read her work when I come across it because it is so challenging.
I wrote this on the day I received this book in the mail:
...It is a slim volume, containing only 30 poems. I flipped through the book quickly, not
I have to sample poems slowly. I'll revisit this book several times over the next few weeks. Gradually, more and more of the images will settle in my thoughts and I'll begin to make sense of these poems. I'll read most of them a few times, some of them many times. There may be one or two that I won't be able to put out of my mind for days. Eventually, through reading, the poems will reveal themselves to me. Or will force me to recognize something about the world and myself that I didn't perceive previously.
I also noted the following:
... I had to smile when I read this quote in the preface to Rich's book: Poetry isn't easy to come by. You have to write it like you owe a debt to the world. In that way poetry is how the world comes to be in you. -- Alan Davies
It's like that for the poetry reader as well. Reading poetry is how the world comes to be in you....
In thinking back over the time (nearly two years) since I recieved this, I think that my initial observations rang true. I read Rich because I find her work challenging, even when I don't like many of her individual poems. After I read these poems several times, I gave the book to a friend who I knew would enjoy reading it. Over time, though, snippets of this work float back into my brain. I think that is a sure sign of a great poet.
One of the poems contained in Telephone Ringing in the Labyrinth, Calibrations contains these lines:
A poem with calipers to hold a heart
so it will want to go on beating
A poem with calipers to hold a heart. Isn't that a beautiful image?
I wrote this on the day I received this book in the mail:
...It is a slim volume, containing only 30 poems. I flipped through the book quickly, not
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intending to read it before dinner, picking up scattered images here and there. Later in the evening, I returned to read more concentratedly. It struck me how odd it is that 30 poems sparsely covering a mere 100-odd pages can be so dense. How reading poetry can bend your mind at sharp right angles that sometimes poke, sometimes tingle your synapses. I have to sample poems slowly. I'll revisit this book several times over the next few weeks. Gradually, more and more of the images will settle in my thoughts and I'll begin to make sense of these poems. I'll read most of them a few times, some of them many times. There may be one or two that I won't be able to put out of my mind for days. Eventually, through reading, the poems will reveal themselves to me. Or will force me to recognize something about the world and myself that I didn't perceive previously.
I also noted the following:
... I had to smile when I read this quote in the preface to Rich's book: Poetry isn't easy to come by. You have to write it like you owe a debt to the world. In that way poetry is how the world comes to be in you. -- Alan Davies
It's like that for the poetry reader as well. Reading poetry is how the world comes to be in you....
In thinking back over the time (nearly two years) since I recieved this, I think that my initial observations rang true. I read Rich because I find her work challenging, even when I don't like many of her individual poems. After I read these poems several times, I gave the book to a friend who I knew would enjoy reading it. Over time, though, snippets of this work float back into my brain. I think that is a sure sign of a great poet.
One of the poems contained in Telephone Ringing in the Labyrinth, Calibrations contains these lines:
A poem with calipers to hold a heart
so it will want to go on beating
A poem with calipers to hold a heart. Isn't that a beautiful image?
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LibraryThing member janeajones
TELEPHONE RINGING IN THE LABYRINTH, Adrienne Rich's collection of poems from 2004-2006 is at once cynical, nostalgic, and keenly observant of both the passage of time and the daily events of ordinary life. Highly imagistic, the poems reflect an old and wise sensibility:
"Dreamfaces blurring
Ebb tide sucks out clinging rockpool creatures, no swimming back into sleep.
Clockface says too early, body prideful and humble shambles into another day, reclaiming itself piecemeal in private ritual acts.
Reassembling the anagram scattered nightly, rebuilding daily the sand city."
"Dreamfaces blurring
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horrorlands: the border of poetry.Ebb tide sucks out clinging rockpool creatures, no swimming back into sleep.
Clockface says too early, body prideful and humble shambles into another day, reclaiming itself piecemeal in private ritual acts.
Reassembling the anagram scattered nightly, rebuilding daily the sand city."
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LibraryThing member deepforestowl
This isn't a long book of poetry but like much of Atwood's poetry it packs a wallop. Only one or two poems have a rhyme scheme. Most of the poems rely on free verse and very minimalist at that. However, the images she creates of loneliness, connection, loss, (un)fulfilled wishes, friendship, and
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reminiscence is so powerful that at times, your breath is taken away. Don't read this book in one sitting. You can't. Read a poem here and a poem there. Let it soak into you and give your brain time to wrap around each line, each stanza. Good poetry leaves you thinking about it hours and days later. This is good poetry. Show Less
LibraryThing member mrkay
This is Adrienne Rich! I have been a fan of her poetry for many years (my favorite being her 1970s poetry "The Dream of a Common Language"). Her latest collection doe snot miss she is still experimenting with formal styles yet seems to have a preference for more modern free verse. Her poems have
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always had a tinge of the political with personal reminiscences tossed in for flavor. These are not as accessible as her early work which either states that she has evolved as a writer and we have not or she is experimenting with a common figurative language that she hopes we will aspire to. Poetry, goes without saying (though I just did), need to be reread and reread again as it reflects our own personalities at different times within our lives. By doing this it becomes timeless and Rich has once again demonstrated that. Show Less
LibraryThing member leslie.98
While I did like a few of the poems ("Rhyme", "Hubble Photographs: After Sappho", parts of "Draft #2006"), most left me either unmoved or confused. Perhaps I should have gotten an earlier collection, more similar to "Planetarium".
LibraryThing member whitewavedarling
Adrienne Rich's poems are always gorgeous, provocative, and striking. In this collection in particular, though, there's a sort of haunting quality to many of the works. The political element that comes into her poetry so often, and which makes for some of my favorite poems, is turned more toward
This collection surprised me--it wasn't what I expected, based on other collections of Rich's I've read, and yet it was every inch her lyrical voice and elegantly dangerous, striking work.
For readers of poetry, or Rich, I absolutely recommend it.
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personal revelation and struggle here, focused more on characters and situations which readers will find strangely available and familiar, less documentary in a larger sense as opposed to a relatable, if sometimes terrifying, personal sense.This collection surprised me--it wasn't what I expected, based on other collections of Rich's I've read, and yet it was every inch her lyrical voice and elegantly dangerous, striking work.
For readers of poetry, or Rich, I absolutely recommend it.
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Language
Original publication date
2007
Physical description
108 p.; 22 cm
ISBN
9780393065657