Anthony Domestico is an assistant professor of literature at Purchase College, SUNY. His book on poetry and theology in the modernist period is forthcoming from Johns Hopkins University Press.
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In honor of National Poetry Month, I'm going to be offering weekly recommendations of contemporary poets worth reading. Today, I'll start things off with Nate Klug, a young poet whose new collection, Anyone, has just been published by the University of Chicago Press.
In his Adagia, Wallace Stevens writes that "the poet feels abundantly the poetry of everything." To the poetic imagination, the world isn't described through poetry; it is poetry, at least when the world is seen most clearly and truthfully. Klug's work offers exactly this kind of reorienting of perspective, showing us the world in all of its particularity and with all of its resonances.
Klug, who has a Masters from Yale Divinity School and is a Congregationalist minister, has spoken about the role of writing in a life of faith, and his poems continually examine the relation between vision and writing, sensory perception and divine revelation. Take, for example, his poem entitled "Milton's God." (This and all subsequent poems can be found on the Poetry Foundation's website):
Where i-95 meets the Pike,
a ponderous thunderhead flowered;
stewed a minute, then flipped
like a flash card, tattered
edges crinkling in, linings so dark
with excessive bright
that, standing, waiting, at the overpass edge,
the onlooker couldn’t decide
until the end, or even then,
what was revealed and what had been hidden.
In Thirty Girls, the novelist Susan Minot has set herself several tasks, all of them difficult. First, she wants to imagine the seemingly unimaginable: what it must feel like for a young girl to be abducted and effectively enslaved in the Lord’s Resistance Army in Uganda. Second, she wants to lay bare the problems that confront the writer—and all of us—when faced with such atrocities. And third, she wants to dramatize both barbarism and our responses to it through the lens of a love story—the kind of fevered, haunting affair that readers of Minot’s previous novel, Rapture, will be familiar with.
Robert Stone, author of Dog Soldiers and A Flag for Sunrise, among other novels, died on Saturday at the age of 77. William Giradli has written that "a lapsed Catholic is the most devout Catholic of all," and Stone, who spent his early childhood in a Catholic orphanage, proved the truth of this claim.
Last week, Marilynne Robinson delivered a lecture at the Yale Institute of Sacred Music. In his introductory remarks, the poet Christian Wiman declared that reading Robinson's Housekeeping was, for him, a soul-shattering experience, one of those reading experiences that gives you faith in the power of a book to reveal something absolutely true and beautiful about the world and about yourself.
What do we mean when we call a story a “fairy tale”? Nowadays, the term is often used pejoratively. It means that the story has failed the test of realism, that it trades in all of those elements—supernatural interventions, incredible coincidences, pure wickedness and pure virtue—that don’t conform to our sense of how the everyday world works.
In her essay “When I Was a Child I Read Books,” the novelist Marilynne Robinson describes how, growing up in northern Idaho in the 1950s, she “preferred books that were old and thick and hard.” Reading was, for Robinson, a portal to a time and place before and beyond her own.
Readers of dotCommonweal might be interested in a conference that is taking place at Villanova on November 13 and 14. The conference is titled "Christianity and Criticism and Culture and ..." and it will consider how the Christian intellectual tradition might help us to better understand the culture we live in.
In case you all needed further reason to join Scott Moringiello in reading Marilynne Robinson's new novel, it has just been announced that Lila made the short list for the National Book Award. The other nominees include Emily St. John Mandel's Station Eleven, Anthony Doerr's All the Light We Cannot See, Rabih Alameddine's An Unnecessary Woman, and Phil Klay's Redeployment.
Accepting the Disaster, Joshua Mehigan’s superb new collection of poetry, begins with a poem called “Here”:
Nothing has changed. They have a welcome sign,
a hill with cows and a white house on top,
a mall and grocery store where people shop,
a diner where some people go to dine.
It is the same no matter where you go
and downtown you will find no big surprises.
Each fall the dew point falls until it rises.
White snow, green buds, green lawn, red leaves, white snow.
Few modern poets loved the world so fiercely, or looked at it so closely, as Amy Clampitt. Her best poems express an ecstatic delight in perception, giving the sense that the world is more than we thought it was—more beautiful and more terrifying, more astounding in its intricacy and more startling in its sublimity.