Poetry Redux

Poetry Redux...John Hollander......................................... .................................................. ..........................From John Hollander's collection, "Powers of Thirteen" [poem 162] "At thirteen already single-minded Abraham smashed up all the ideas in his father's house that were/ Likenesses of nothing, and turned his inner eye toward/ The lord of nonrepresentation, whose sole image/ Lies encoded somewhere in our own." It might be observed about John Hollander that his skilled and inspired poetry is lost in the rareified atmosphere of the top of the social and intelectual circles. That said, his poetry remains accessable yet subtle, profound and yet exibits similarity to the contemporary poetry of our time. His best efforts are both inferentially emotional and also distant; transporting his unique sense of comparison of disimilars by way of symbolic extrapolation. Hollander, a poet, among many other avocations, was born the day of the crash, in 1029; this held no omen status for the success of his variegated writing career. In addition, he was a writer, critic, professsor at four colleges and universities, among them Connecticut College, Hunter College, The CUNY Graduate Center and Yale University. A prolific writer and poet, he emassed kudos as Junior fellow of the Harvard Societry of Fellows, the Bollingen Prize for poetry, the Levenson Prize, A fellowship from the Gugenhiem Foundation, The Macarthur Foundation, The National Endowment for the Arts, Chancellor of the Academy of American Poets and The Poet Laureate of Connecticut. His work overall is heterogenious, urbane, never decadent, scholarly, never pedantic and always entertaining. Almost by way of contrast, his poems also display the profound, philosophical, even playfull and light...at once whimsical and serious and even farsical. When you include additional layers like mystery and transcendence, Hollander clearly is a master remeniscent of Hecht, Merrill and M.S. Merwin. In April of 2003, John Hollander was interviewed by Paul Devlin, at St. John's University c/o the Humanities Department (and with the assistance of the St. John's English Department who later published this interview). Devlin poses this question to Hollander..." In terms of educational practice, what ways can a teacher, perhaps an elementary school or high school teacher, make good poetry exciting and accessible?" Hollander's response is that those teachers must read the poetry aloud; the students must learn about intonation, about making a "close" reading of the poetry, make less emphasis of methodology, learn the immense value of the students own potential for originality, and especially the need to practice creative writing given that the student sees the possibility of writing himself. Another question asked by Devlin is...'Are there any great poets who you feel are overlooked [undervalued] today?" John Hollanders answer may seem a little convoluted but it is noteworthy that the poets and writers he mentions in his reply consist of a royal listing. They include Browning, Dante, Chaucer, Victor Hugo, Emerson, Melville, Whitman, Dickinson, Longfellow, Swinburne, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Shelly, D.H. Lawrence and Hardy. The reader can almost hear faint echoes of Whitman and Swinburne in his poem from the "Harp Lake" collection (copyright 1988). "Clay to clay: Soon I shall indeed become/ Dumb as these solid cups of hardened mud/ (Dull terra cruda colored like our blood);/ Meanwhile the slap and thump of palm and thumb/ On wet mis-shapenness begins to hum/ With meaning that was silent for so long./ The words of my wheel's turning come to ring/ Truer than truth itself does, my great/ Ding Dong-an-sich that echoes everything/ (against it even lovely bells ring wrong); Its whole voice gathers up the purest parts/ Of all our speech, the vowels of the earth,/ The aspirations of our hopeful hearts/ Or the prophetic sibilance of song." [published by Alfred A. Knopf. Inc. Copyright 1988 by John Hollander. Used with permission.] Now if I may allow a personal selection (a favorite), This is a quote from "River Remembered" [from the "Tesserae" collection, 1995, Alfred A. Knopf]. A few selected stanzas from this long poem: "The rhododendrons darkened leaves are curved/ Into tight scrolls, whose dry, hermetic books/ Will stay unread now, till the whitened world/ Unlocks its warmth; the frozen local brooks/ Muttering sotto voce at their own/ Ice remind us of a general notion;/ Running through land to an eventual ocean--/" (stanza one and two) Stanza 21 from "River Remembered" "--Oh see these chilling shades of foresight cast/ Across memory's warm places new engage/ Daylight in their transactions with the past,/ And scrawl their warnings on this dimming page/" From "An Old Fashioned Song" [part of the "Tesserae" collection] "No more walks in the wood:/ The trees have all been cut/ Down, and where once they stood/ Not even a wagon rut/ Appears along the path/ Low brush is tking over./ No more walks in the wood/ This is the aftermath/ Of afternoons in the clover/ Fields where we once made love/ Then wandered home together/ Where the trees arched above,/ Where we made our own weather/ When branches were the sky./" [1995, Alfred A. Knopf] [From "The Night Mirror" Copyright 1971 by John Hollander] "As the Sparks Fly Upward" "As of an ungrounded grief,/ Bluish sparks fly upward from/ Under the shadow-thickened,/ Tree-covered, part of night toward/ What can yet be construed as/ Dimmed azure, while the summer/ Glow of soft streetlamp light hums/ Listening leaves: fireflies/ Far from the sea rise in an/ Untroubled-looking midland,/ Soundless, their gaps in the dark/ Soundless, and the thunder soon/ Waves of remembrance in the darkening air./" From the same source collection (Night Mirrror), this poem "Another Firefly" has stunning first lines..."In a turning instant, my head/ catches light of a leaping star/ Over my left shoulder in a/ Green region of space darkened,/ Into distance beyond distance,/ A cold, green star, not rising like/ Sons and empires, slow as breath,/ In the way of stars, but as no/ Darkened water could have mirrored/ The partly glimpsed meteor in/ Surging reversal of falling---/" Digressing from Hollander's poetry, an illuminating article and review by Robert Von Hallberg called "The Effect of Loss On the Loser" (NYTimes book review section) has some excellent comment on John Hollander written recently. This quote by Hallberg stands out as both tribute and analysis. The review's focus is Hollander's collection called "Lead: In Time and Place" (101pp, $7.95...paperback). "Imagine a poet so confident in his resources that he might begin a book with Tennyson on his mind and end with Rene Char. John Hollander's technical range is well known now. His new book "In Time and Place" is in speaking of technique as something seperate in a distinguished poet. As usual in his collections, his approach is extraordinarily indirect. Though this marvelous book of poems, prose and prose pooems comes from real pain, not literary anxiety, Mr. Hollander's achievement is an imaginative marshalling of very different ideas for pushing loss and pain innto understanding. A lover's betrayal, a wife's departure, a friend's death, the mind's decline--Mr. hollander's idioms keep these figurations of loss overlapping on one another" It is fitting to end with a quote of Hollander himself... "The great advantage of the way live here now is that I am free of my own influence. Not being able to read what I have previously set down disobliges me from attendinng to it." The following is a bibliography of all John Hollander's poetry collections.[Poetry]

A Crackling of Thorns ( New Haven, Yale University Press, 1958)

Movie-Going and Other Poems (New York, Atheneum, 1962)

Visions from the Ramble (New York, Atheneum, 1965)

Types of Shape (New York, Atheneum, 1968)

The Night Mirror (New York, Atheneum, 1971)

Town and Country Matters (Boston, David R. Godine, 1972)

Selected Poems (London, Secker and Warburg, 1972)

Selected Poems, tr. Yorifumi Yaguchi (Tokyo, Bunri, 1972)

Tales Told of the Fathers (New York, Atheneum, 1975)

Reflections on Espionage (New York, Atheneum, 1976)

Spectral Emanations (New York, Atheneum, 1978)

Blue Wine ( Baltimore, Johns Hopkins University Press, 1979)

Powers of Thirteen (New York, Athenuem, 1983)

In Time and Place (Baltimore, Johns Hopkins University Press, 1986)

Harp Lake (New York, Alfred A. Knopf, 1988)

Types of Shape [2nd. edition, with ten new poems, notes and introduction] (New Haven, Yale University Press, 1991)

The Death of Moses [libretto for oratorio by Alexander Goehr] (London, Schott and Co., Ltd., 1992)

Selected Poetry (New York, Alfred A. Knopf, 1993)

Tesserae and Other Poems (New York, Alfred A. Knopf, 1993)

Figurehead and Other Poems (New York, Alfred A. Knopf, 1999)

Reflections on Espionage [2nd edition, with as introduction and additional notes] (New Haven, Yale University Press, 1999)

Poetry Redux: A.R.Ammons From the poem "Mansion", more serious than most of his work, "......SO IT CAME TIME/ FOR ME TO CEDE MYSELF, AND I CHOOSE/ THE WIND/ TO BE DELIVERED TO/ THE WIND WAS GLAD/ AND SAID IT NEEDED ALL/ THE BODY/ IT COULD GET/ .....WHEN THE TREES OF MY BONES/ RISES FROM THE SKIN I SAID/ COME AND WHIRLWINDING/ STROLL MY DUST/ AROUND THE PLAIN" Within every A.R.Ammmons poem, you find a concept and re-interpreted vision taken from the changing physics of nature, humans included. On a US Navy destroyer escort, he wrote his first poems, in the South Pacific. When he worked as principal of a Cape Hatteras elementary school, immense natural beauty of the hundred and forty mile barrier island was backround he would use. After managing a specialty glass factory in New Jersey, and before he started teaching at Cornell (1963), in 1955 he allready self-published a poetry collection: "Ommateum, with Doxology", a first edition which now can fetch three thousand in the rare books trade. 1963, Ammons writes "Still", a muted exaltation: BUT THOUGH I HAVE LOOKED EVERYWHERE,/ I CAN FIND NOTHING/ TO GIVE MYSELF TO:/ EVERY THING IS/ MAGNIFICENT WITH EXISTENCE, IS IN/ SURFEIT OF GLORY:/ NOTHING IS DIMINISHED FOR ME:" In 1965, the professor wrote this signature poem: "Corsons Inlet", a space of ocean and land between Strathmere and Ocean City, NJ..."I ALLOW MYSELF EDDIES OF MEANING:/ LIKE A STREAM THROUGH THE GEOGRAPHY OF MY WORK:/ YOU CAN FIND/ IN MY SAVINGS/ SWERVES OF ACTION/ LIKE THE INLETS CUTTING EDGE." In this same reflective poem..."RISK IS FULL: EVERY LIVING THING IN/ SIEGE: THE DEMAND IS LIFE, TO KEEP LIFE: THE SMALL/ WHITE BLACKLEGGED EGRET, HOW BEAUTIFUL, QUIETLY STALKS AND SPEARS/ TO STAB--WHAT? I COULD'T/ SEE AGAINST THE BLACK MUDFLATS-- A FRIGHTENED/ FIDDLER CRAB?" Ammons concludes this poem with another variation on the need and necessity of constant renewal..."THAT THERE IS NO FINALITY OF VISION,/ THAT I HAVE PERCIEVED NOTHING COMPLETELY,/ THAT TOMORROW A NEW WALK IS A NEW WALK." An immense volume of writing will follow; Ammons has found his stride, not so tentative, and eventually had published over twenty-five collections before his passing at seventy-five years, at Cornell in Ithaca, NY. A partial list of poetry prizes: The Bollingen, the Ruth Lily Prize, the Frost Medal, the National Book Award, the National Book Critics Circle Award for Poetry, and the Library of Congress Rebekah Johnson Bobbitt National Prize for Poetry, in addition to his professor emeritus status at Cornell. Ammons writes in 1970 "Cascadilla Falls"....."PICKED UP A/ HANDSIZED STONE/ KIDNEY-SHAPED, TESTICULAR, AND/ THOUGHT ALL ITS MOTIONS INTO IT,/ THE 800MPH EARTH SPIN,/ THE 190-MILLION-MILE YEARLY/ DISPLACEMENT AROUND THE SUN,/ THE OVERRIDING/ GRAND/ HAUL." (photographs of these falls are available at http://nyfalls.com/cascadilla.html ) Elizabeth Mills, professor at Davidson College, said of Ammons he would "gather up pieces of clarity" and that he remarked to her while writing the "Lake Effect Country" that "I WANT TO DEAL WITH INTELLECTUAL CONGLOMERATES THAT COULD REVEAL THE NATURE OF THINGS." Ms. Mills described H.R. or "Archie" as he was known at Cornell, "an edgewalker, a seeker on the periphery." Edward Hirsch of the NYT is quoted on this poet: "Ammons was an essentially American poet of what Emerson called 'fluxions and mobility' who needed always to keep moving, bobbing and weaving, changing speeds (and tones), thinking on the fly, improvising--an adept poet of process, and proponent of motion, which he named 'the closest cousin to spirit.'" Another soft celebration of living is a poem called "The City Limits", a radiant piece from 1971: "...WHEN YOU CONSIDER/ THAT AIR OR VACUUM, SNOW OR SHALE, SQUID OR WOLF, ROSE OR LICHEN/ EACH IS ACCEPTED INTO AS MUCH LIGHT AS IT WILL TAKE, THEN/ THE HEART MOVES ROOMIER, THE MAN STANDS AND LOOKS ABOUT, THE/ LEAF DOES NOT INCREASE ITSELF ABOVE THE GRASS, AND THE DARK/ WORK OF THE DEEPEST CELLS IS IN A TUNE WITH MAY BUSHES/ AND FEAR LIT BY THE BREADTH OF SUCH CALMLY TURNS TO PRAISE." Fellow professor and friend at Ithaca, Roger Gilbert, commented on A.R.Ammons readership, "I think he felt a little isolated in Ithaca, and he had a very dedicated, but smaller following than other poets. I think he appreciated the awards, but what really mattered to him is having as many people as possible read his work." Rated best among his collections are: GLARE, 1997 THE NORTH CAROLINA POEMS, 1965 SPHERE: THE FORM OF A MOTION, 1974 and BOSH AND FLAPDOODLE, his last collection. Anticipating he was not an immortal, he wrote "In View of the Fact" about friends and family aging in an upbeat style: "THE NICE OLD MEN LEFT IN EMPTY HOUSES OR ON/ THE WIDOWS WHO DECIDE TO TRAVEL ALOT: WE/ THINK THE SUN MAY SHINE SOMEDAY WHEN WE'LL/ DRINK WINE TOGETHER AND THINK OF WHAT USED TO/ BE: UNTIL WE DIE WE WILL REMEMBER EVERY SINGLE THING, RECALL EVERY WORD, LOVE EVERY LOSS." Bibliography: ------------------Briefings: Poems Small and Easy. New York: W. W. Norton, 1971.

Brink Road. New York: W. W. Norton, 1996.

A Coast of Trees. New York: W. W. Norton, 1981.

Collected Poems, 1951-1971. New York: W. W. Norton, 1972.

Corsons Inlet: A Book of Poems. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1965.

Diversifications. New York: W. W. Norton, 1975.

Expressions of Sea Level. Columbus: Ohio State University Press, 1964.

Garbage. New York: W. W. Norton, 1993.

Glare. New York: W. W. Norton, 1997.

Lake Effect Country. New York: W. W. Norton, 1983.

The North Carolina Poems. Edited by Alex Albright. Rocky Mount: North Carolina Wesleyan College Press, 1994.

Northfield Poems. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1966.

Ommateum, with Doxology. Philadelphia, Pa.: Dorrance, 1955.

The Really Short Poems of A. R. Ammons. New York: W. W. Norton, 1990.

Selected Longer Poems. New York: W. W. Norton, 1980.

Selected Poems. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1968.

The Selected Poems. New York: W. W. Norton, 1986.

Set In Motion: Essays, Interviews, and Dialogues. Edited by Zofia Burr. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1996.

The Selected Poems, 1951-1977. New York: W. W. Norton, 1977.

The Snow Poems. New York: W. W. Norton, 1977.

Sphere: The Form of a Motion. New York: W. W. Norton, 1974.

Sumerian Vistas. New York: W. W. Norton, 1987.

Tape for the Turn of the Year. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1965.

Uplands: New Poems. New York: W. W. Norton, 1970.

Worldly Hopes. New York: W. W. Norton, 1982. { http://www.themanhattanreview.com/ar...1-2_place.html Ammons interview}

POETRY REDUX: WILLIAM MATTHEWS (1942-1997) ------------ As mentioned in a posting on William Matthews, he had observed when a young poet that most published poems fall into four thematic categories: "1. I went out into the woods today and it made me feel, you know, sort of religious. 2. We're not getting any younger. 3. It sure is cold and lonley (a) without you, honey, or (b) with you, honey. 4. Sadness seems but the other side of the coin of happiness, and vice versa, and in any case the coin is too soon spent and on we know not what." This flippant and satirical view of poetry did not keep Matthews from spending a lifetime perfecting his verse. Although he may have studiously avoided these particular cliche'd themes, he began a life of lively, sardonic, incisive writing which would bring him many of the famed poetry prizes and would see him become an established and prolific poet. His topics ranged from jazz to philosophy to media and allowed a portion of work dedicated to the "other". Matthews wrote of Freud, Nabakov, good food, the simple pleasures, wine and applied his poetic skills to the subtleties of fleeting if common experiences. While still an aspirant, he wrote "Bud Powell, Paris, 1959" --excerpt--TWO BUCKS FOR A SCOTCH IN THIS DUMP,--I THOUGHT, AND I BOUGHT ME ANOTHER. I WAS YOUNG AND PAIN ROSE TO MY CEILING, LIKE WARMTH,--LIKE A STORY THAT MAKES US COME TRUE--IN THE PRESENT. EACH DAY'S--MELOWDRAMA IN POWELL'S CELLS--BORED AND KILLED HIM. PAIN LOVES PAIN--AND CALLS IT COMPANY, AND IT IS." Matthews was from Cincinnati, born 11/11/42. He went for his BA at Yale and an MA from the University of North Carolina. Despite his view of most poetry as mostly bloated and ornate cliche'...he persisted at it for a lifetime, never discussing the lovelorn or hard times. By the day of his demise at 55, his birthday, this semi-cynical poet was an imposing figure in literary and university circles. A personal poet with an unique signature, his peers would say "he wrote his life." His poetry, as W.S. Merwin saw it, was suprising, delightful, loaded with wry grace and reassuring. William Matthews responded in an interview recorded at the Atlantic (monthly) Unbound website, "Life happens to us whether we have the good sense to be interested in the way it happens to us or not. That's what it means to be alive." From his book "Foreseeable Futures" he writes..."EACH EMOTION LASTS FOR ITS OPPOSITE__WHICH IS TO SAY, FOR ITSELF. OUR WATER MUSIC__EVERY MORNING RAINS DEATH'S OLD SWEET SONG.__BUT RELENTLESS JOY INFESTS THE BLUES ALL DAY." Moving on to a poem from 1998, no poet so eloquently attacks poetry, both method and audience, quite like Matthews... from "Inspiration" ..."I LOATHE POETRY. I HATE THE CLOTTED,__DICTY POEMS OF THE GREAT MODERNISTS,__DISDAINFUL OF THEIR TRUANT AUDIENCE,__AND I HATE ALSO PROLETARIAN POETRY,__WITH ITS DUTIFUL RANCORS__AND SING-ALONG CERTAINTIES.__I HATE POETRY READINGS AND THE DREADED VERB 'TO SHARE'. LET ME SHARE THIS KNIFE WITH YOUR THROAT,__.....IT TAKES A DEEP BELIEF IN ONE'S OWN IGNORANCE;__IT TAKES, I TELL YOU, DESPERATE MEASURES." In order to give a fair sampling of William Matthews poetry, here are some excerpts from a spectrum of his poetry.....from "outer space" -- "...THREADS ON A SCREW, THE WORM__OF A CORKSCREW, THE CIRCULAR__STAIRCASE TO SLEEP__...SOON THE MOON IS GONE__AS FAR AS IT CAN GO AND STILL COME BACK.__SOON THERE'LL BE NO ROOM__FOR YOU: THE MOON WILL BE ALL__STOMACH, LIKE A MELON" From "A Roadside near Ithaca" "......OR THEY'RE ONE BLUE THE SKY__CAN BE, AND ALWAYS, NOT__VARIUM ET MUTABILE SEMPER, RESTLESS FOREVER.__IN MEMORY, THOUGH MEMMORY EATS ITS BANKS LIKE ANY RIVER, __YOU CAN CARRY__BY CONSTANT REVISION__SOME LOVED THING:" From "The Blue Nap" -- "...THE NIGHT I SHARE WITH OTHERS IS CLOUDY__AS IF IT WERE GROGGY FROM SNOWING.__ON THE PLAINS, THE LIGHTS OF LONGMONT__WAVER. I BEGIN TO RE-INVENT MY LIFE, TURNING ON LIGHTS,__GRINDING SOME COFFEE BEANS__FRENCH ROAST, DARK ENOUGH TO SHINE. THE KETTLE__SENDS UP__ITS FLUME OF STEAM." From "Moving Again" -- "....IN A FEW GEOLOGICAL ERAS.__NEW MOUNTAINS MAY,__SHATTER THE EARTH'S SHELL__AND POKE UP LIKE STONE WINGS.__EACH PART MUST SERVE FOR A WHOLE.__I BRING MY SONS TO THE BASE__OF THE FOOTHILLS AND WE GO UP. .........WE GO UP THE MESA TOP AND LOOK DOWN__AT OUR NEW HOMETOWN. THE THIN AIR__WARPS IN THE MELTING LIGHT__LIKE THE AURA BEFORRE A MIGRAINE..." From "The News", a type of poem with very relaxed and not very intense purpose... -- "...FROM EACH HOUSE ON THE STREET,__THE BLUE LIGHT OF THE NEWS.__SOMEONE'S DOG WHIRPS THREE TIMES__AND SCUFFS THE LEAVES.__IT'S QUIET, A SCHOOL NIGHT.__THE PRESIDENT AND HIS HELPERS__LIVE AT ONE END OF THE NEWS,__PARENTS AT THE OTHER." Now the reader will notice a very intense and although seemingly impersonal; it is in fact very personal, probably dealing with the serious ill health of his wife (cancer). From "Living among the Dead" -- "...FIRST THERE WERE THOSE WHO DIED__BEFORE I WAS BORN.__IT WAS AS IF THEY HAD JUST LEFT__AND THEIR SHADOWS WOULD__SLIP OUT OF THEM__UNDER THE DOOR SO RECENTLY CLOSED__THE AIR IN ITS PATH WAS STILL__SWIRLING TO REST.__SOME OF THE FURNITURE CAME FROM THEM,__I WAS TOLD, AND ONE DAY__I OPENED TWO CHESTS__OF DRAWERS TO LEARN WHAT THE DEAD KEPT. .......BUT IT WAS WHEN I LEARNED TO READ__THAT I BEGAN ALWAYS__TO LIVE AMONG THE DEAD.__TO LOVE THE DEAD IS EASY.__THEY ARE FINAL, PERFECT__BUT TO LOVE A CHILD__IS SOMETIMES TO FAIL AT LOVE__WHILE THE DEAD LOOK ON__WITH THEIR ABSTRACT SORROW." In an overlong and partonizing interview conducted by Peter Davison of the Atlantic Monthly, the subject of Matthews' ill wife came up and he states about this trying period....."Its not easy to write a poem on these subjects. I didnn't write a poem because I thought it would be useful material. On the contrary: I noticed all the way through that neither I nor anybody else has much of a vocabulary for talking about my experience, or talking about Pat's experience (to the extent that I could guess what it was, or hear her tell me). Question posed by Peter Davison: "Would you call it an act of witness?" Matthews' reply: "Yes, it's an act of witness, but I needed to write the poem to invent a vocabulary, because it's a matter of pride for me not to be linguistically inadequate. We are all rendered mute and stupid by our experience from time to time, but the point of being a poet is that you have redress. I felt particularly challenged in this instance. It seemed to me a matter of pride--I hope I don't mean puffed-up pride, but the pride that a good cook takes in knowing how to save a curdling sauce. It was also an act of trying to rescue an important part of human experience from imaginative failures and thinness of vocabulary and failures of empathy. You can't give up to the forces of silence. They mean us harm." In another interview, by a skilled communicator, Matthews elaborates on, in the largest sense, the poetic creative process. "I do think that writing poetry imitates, in some ways, the process of keeping alert, keeping you poise, keeping your curiosity, keepinng all the balls up in the air--it's a model for an attentive life--in that it acts it out. If you were to say, 'what kind of symbolic actions can a poem perform?' "...The first thing I would say is I would use images from juggling and images from choreograpghy, and say that balance and posture, in the largest sense of the words, poise in the largest sense of the word, are some of the things that the writing of poetry teaches us. It also teaches us a certain ordinary bravery, which is not to call a spade a garden implement and not to leave out the stuff that you don't know the answer to, and things like that. It is good for the human spirit to speak the truth in public in an unquavering voice, and writing imitates some of that." .................................................. .....................You can't comment on William Matthews without quoting some of his poetry and enthusiastic words for jazz and especially Charles Mingus. When Matthews won the Book Critics Circle Award for "Time and Money: new poems" in 1995, he wrote about jazz artist Mingus...."YOU HAVE TO PICK UP THE BASS,__AS MINGUS CALLED HIS,__WITH AUDIBLE CAPITALS,__AND THINK OF THE SLOW YEARS THE WOOD SPENT AS A TREE,__WHICH MIGHT WELL HAVE BEEN ENOUGH FOR WOOD,__AND THINK OF THE SKILL THE BASSMAKER CARRIED __WITHOUT GREAT THOUGHT OF IT FROM HOME__TO THE SHOP AND BACK FOR DECADES,__AND KNOW WHAT BASSISTS BEFORE YOU HAVE PLAYED,__AND KNOW HOW MUCH OF THIS IS __STORED IN THHE BASS LIKE ENERGY__IN A SPRING AND KNOW HOW MUCH YOU MUST__COAX OUT. HOW EASY IT WOULD BE,__INSTEAD TO PULL A SWORD FROM A STONE,__BUT WHATS INSIDE THE BASS__WANTS OUT." Finally in the way of presenting William Matthews best work, an excerpt from his poem "Time" where he muses about the passage of time, of life....."AND YET WE MUST REMEMBER THIS__DIRE TIME HECTORS US ALONG WITH IT,__AND SO__WE MIGHT CONSIDER THANKS.__WEDNESDAY.__THURSDAY.__THUS WATER LICKS ITS STEADY WAY THROUGH STONE." -------------------------------------------------------A Selected Bibliography

Poetry

A Happy Childhood (1984)
After All: Last Poems (1998)
An Oar in the Old Water (1974)
Blues If You Want (1989)
Broken Syllables (1969)
Flood (1982)
Foreseeable Futures (1987)
Rising and Falling (1979)
Ruining the New Road (1970)
Selected Poems & Translations, 1969-1991 (1992)
Sleek for the Long Flight: New Poems (1972)
Stick and Stones (1975)
The Cloud (1971)
Time & Money: New Poems (1995)


Anthology

A World Rich in Anniversaries: Prose Poems, (1979)
Removed from Time (1977)
The Mortal City: 100 Epigrams of Martial (1995)


Essays

Curiosities (1989)
-------------------------------------------------------William Matthews, prizes and honors....Served as president of the Poetry Societry of America.....(1997)Ruth Lily Award.....Chair of the Literature Panel of the National Endowment for the Arts.....fellowships from the Guggenheim and Ingram Merrill Foundations, the National Endowment for the Arts, Lila Wallace-Reader's Digest Fund.....professor of English and creative writing at New York City College.....finalist for the Lenore Marshall Poetry Prize.....editor and co-founder together with Russell Banks of literary magazine "Lillabulero". q1

Abstract

Lillabulero was a small literary magazine founded and principally edited by Russell Banks and William Matthews in 1964 while both were students at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. The magazine ran through 14 issues and contained poetry and prose works by lesser known authors, as well as critical pieces discussing developments in modern literature. Issues 1-5 were published in Chapel Hill, N.C.; subsequent numbers were published in Northwood Narrows, N.H. Banks and Matthews also founded a small press under the same name, which issued a series of chapbooks and other compilations of literary work. These undertakings were abandoned in 1974 to allow Banks and Matthews to devote more time to their own creative projects. Records consists primarily of letters relating to established and potential contributors to the magazine, as well as correspondence between editors Russell Banks and William Matthews and others at similar publications. The letters include commentary on submissions and discuss matters relevant to the production of a literary magazine at a small press. Also included are letters on more general topics, such as the nature of poetry, social conditions in the United States, and the war in Vietnam. There is also correspondence of a more personal nature among Banks and Matthews and their friends. Correspondents include Floyce Alexander, Carol Berge, Wendell Berry, James Bertolino, Alan Brilliant, Paul Hannigan, Geof Hewitt, David Ignatow, David Madden, Howard McCord, Paul Metcalf, Robert Morgan, Paul Pines, Henry Roth, Max Steele, Peter Wild, William Witherup, and Arthur Yanoff. Interspersed in the correspondence are several versions of a prospectus directed at potential funding sources and retailers and a few grant applications to government agencies and other sources of funding. There is also a brief essay entitled, "Why We Killed a Perfectly Healthy Literary Magazine," in which Banks and Matthews discussed the reasons for shutting Lillabulero down after the 14th issue. -- http://www.lib.unc.edu/mss/inv/l/Lillabulero.html