I Am Flying Into Myself: Selected Poems 1960-2014 by Bill Knott (2017)

The first, and perhaps the last, collection of Bill Knott's poems published since his death in 2014.

Poetry Review: I Am Flying Into Myself is a selection of work by a little-known poet in a culture of little-known poets. Not only little-known, but thorny, uncooperative, curmudgeonly, and a writer who went through immense changes in his writing, from the almost epigrammatic poetry of his early books, through surrealism (or Aurealism as he called it), to the complex, thorny, intellectual, syllabic, more formal poetry of his later years, but always with his own odd and individual sense of humor. As the editor Thomas Lux notes, Bill Knott was "a school of one, among the American poets." Lux notes that he edited this collection of 152 poems from Knott's own collection of 964 poems, and states that he generally adhered to Knott's order, which was "meant to be random, neither chronological nor thematic." This books lists Knott's 12 books, which through haunting thrift stores I've managed to collect seven and read eight.The existence of I Am Flying Into Myself is a wonderful thing in and of itself, it makes me happy just to know I can hold it in my hands. It's interesting to note which poems Lux chose from so many choices: many sonnets, many formal works, so much of his wordplay, puns, games, neologisms, and the magic Knott found in words. At his best Knott works in elements of Joyce, Shakespeare, perhaps even some Dylan Thomas. I believe these are the poems Knott himself would have wanted preserved. As grateful as I am to Lux for shepherding this project, these poems are not always the ones I would have chosen. For me there are too few from the early books on which Knott, to his later regret, made his reputation. He never quite lived down his image as the angry, young, anti-war poet. Though I treasure all his work, for me the work in this collection is not as immediate, emotional, political, powerful as those early efforts. My only other wish is that there were even more poems in the collection (there's room). Here is one from the book, called "Goodbye": "If you are still alive when you read this,/close your eyes. I am/under their lids, growing black." And if Bill Knott was still with us and could see this collection, I think he would say something dismissive, about "sure, after I'm dead, what good does this do me?" But I also think he would be secretly pleased, quite pleased, and would eagerly and approvingly look through the pages, and would be just as happy (though he wouldn't admit it) that it's from a prestigious publisher like Farrar Straus Giroux. I Am Flying Into Myself is a good thing; look for it in your local bookstore or library. [4½★]

What Work Is by Philip Levine (1991)

The National Book Award winning poetry collection by American author Philip Levine.

Poetry Review: What Work Is surprises even with its title, not one expected on a poetry collection, even as the poignant cover photograph reminds us that "work begins at seven" once referred to age rather than the clock. The 25 poems in this book (one 18 pages long) are relentlessly good, as usual displaying Levine's immense craftsmanship and almost perfect mastery over his field. To learn to write poetry, just read these poems, over and over. Since he writes so often about work, workers, the working life, I had somehow expected the entire volume to be devoted to that one subject, and it's not. Instead, What Work Is contains Levine's usual subjects of family, memory, Detroit, California, other cultures, and people's stories. Unlike all Gaul, the book is divided into four parts, with the first focusing on the dehumanizing nature and necessity of work. In one poem he writes: "she has been/standing before a polishing wheel/for over three hours, and she lacks/twenty minutes before she can take/a lunch break. Is she a woman?" "Coming Close," "Among Children," and the title poem are standouts of this section. The second part addresses memories, family, places, nature. One line is "a broken fence/that mumbles Keep Out." One of the strongest poems in the book, "M. Degas Teaches Art & Science ..." is here, evoking the fears of childhood, school, and future. Part three is the 18 page poem "Burned," which I can't do justice and must be read to be appreciated: it's a long journey covering much terrain. Finally, part four looks at memories from all parts of Levine's life interwoven, childhood, school, teachers, and friends : "In the dark you can love this place." The most powerful poem in the book, one that bears repeated reading, is "The Sweetness of Bobby Hefka," with a voice that perhaps speaks louder today than when it was written. What Work Is doesn't have the individual searing standout poems of earlier books, but it's overall quality is certainly higher, as written by a cobbler who can't turn out a bad shoe. [4★]

How to Read Literature Like a Professor by Thomas C. Foster (2003)

A casual primer on the subtext of reading literary fiction.

Book Review: How to Read Literature Like a Professor is determinedly easy-going and laid-back, in an effort to belie the title and make college courses and the secrets of academia an open book. Foster throws in symbolism, referents, a little poetry, sources, myths, violence, weather, and just about everything short of the kitchen sink (I just checked the Index: no kitchen sink). And he works hard at making it all palatable. This is a simple introduction to the academic reading of "texts," addressing some of the points that academics actually would prefer not to discuss. For someone new to the subject and non-academics (like me), How to Read Literature Like a Professor is an easy place to start. For more experienced readers it's a nice refresher course with points that may have been forgotten, or are entirely new. A good book for a potential literature major to read the summer before going off to college, or for anyone who's about to begin a regimen of literary fiction. First warning: there are major spoilers galore for any number of famous and popular books within these pages. Second warning: Foster covers a lot of turf, so much so that late in the book I began to get a little impatient, but then again there's enough material on this topic that he could write a sequel. And he does not seriously cover critical literary analysis, such as feminist, socialist, Freudian, deconstruction, etc. etc. How to Read Literature Like a Professor won't help a lot with a Master's Thesis or change lives, but it will provide something to think about while reading books worth thinking about. [3½★]

James Tiptree, Jr.: The Double Life of Alice B. Sheldon by Julie Phillips (2006)

A biography of American writer Alice Bradley Sheldon (1915-87), better known as science fiction writer James Tiptree, Jr.

Book Review: James Tiptree, Jr. purports to be a biography of a science fiction writer, but might be better characterized as a lengthy study of gender, gender identity, and a woman who refused to let society limit her because of her sex. When reading a biography, the reviewer has to distinguish between the life of the subject and the skill of the biographer. Alice Sheldon was mercurial, high strung, melodramatic, beautiful, and born to a wealthy family. She led an exciting life. As a child in the 1920s her parents took her on three trips to Africa. She married young, was one of the early women to join the Women's Army Auxiliary Corps (later the Women's Army Corps), was one of the first assigned to Air Force photointelligence, divorced and remarried, ran a chicken hatchery in New Jersey, worked for the CIA, earned a Ph.D., and finally, at age 51, published science fiction stories under a male pseudonym and persona, all while living luxuriously. Quite a life! As a science fiction writer Sheldon won several awards and carried on an extensive correspondence with many of the notable writers of the time, presenting herself as male in her letters, when in fact she was one of the minority of female science fiction writers of the time. In her male persona, she was widely accepted by and developed friendships with both female and male writers. Julie Phillips' presentation in James Tiptree, Jr. is generally thorough, but is filtered through her own biases and too often she takes the creative and dramatic Sheldon's statements at face value. She also, understandably, has difficulties with pronouns, Tiptree being both "he" and "she." At times there are subjects Phillips oddly chooses not to cover in depth and she has a strong and personal presence and point of view concerning her subject, which isn't always convincing. Regarding a gun Sheldon owned, Phillips states: "The gun must have given her a sense of power over death," whatever that means, and really? Fortunately, Phillips also provides enough source material that the reader can often form conclusions independently. Based on the information given, the reader could easily conclude and defend a thesis that Alice Sheldon was either heterosexual, lesbian, bisexual, had serious mother or father issues, was transgender, or some combination of the above. As she said, "I am (was) notoriously f---ed up about sex," though after sex with a man she also wrote "I feel normal!" When Sheldon lost her male Tiptree persona, she also lost her ability to write convincingly. At the time Tiptree was generally thought clearly a male, though some thought Tiptree was female, and others felt it remarkable that a male author could write with such sensitivity -- of course when Tiptree was exposed as female it was less notable. Although one could read James Tiptree, Jr. as just the story of one person's gender confusion, for those interested in the subject of the interplay of female and male in all of us, it serves as an unusually intriguing case study in changing times, as well as a look at the place of early female writers in science fiction in the era of Women's Lib (almost shocking when read about today). For those interested in science fiction of the 60s and 70s, gender identity, and the social position of women from the 1930s to 1980s, this is a highly useful and interesting book. [3½★]

No Quarter: The Three Lives of Jimmy Page by Martin Power (2015)

A biography of the lead guitarist and founder of the little known, underground cult band, Led Zeppelin.

Book Review: No Quarter is a book I started reading in the library on a whim (a 700 page whim), and kept reading just from curiosity. The book is meticulously researched: if you want to know about every recording date, concert date, and record release in Page's life, this is the book for you; if you're curious which precise guitar Page played on every recording and in every concert, Power will tell you; if you need the biographies of every musician, manager, and promoter Page ever worked with, they're here (needless to say an excellent Appendix and Index). But if you want to hear about Page the person, his thoughts and emotions, his family, his friends, the "whys" of his life, that's all in short supply (as a novice musician, I'm always looking for the secret of how the greats got great). Very good for what it is, but I might distinguish between a biography where the reader gets to know the subject as a human being, and a history, which is a record of events. No Quarter seems a bit more like a history. There's no gossip, no juicy tales, myths, and rumors, no salacious details, no backstage dirt. This is not an updated Hammer of the Gods (by Stephen Davis). Despite the detail about Page's early career as a session musician and with British Invasion beat group The Yardbirds, this book is really a history of Led Zeppelin, a group that has been a soundtrack for Boomers, Gen X, and Millennials alike. No Quarter is solid, but not much is revealing or exciting. [3★]

1984 by George Orwell (1949)

In a dystopian future (or is it the past, or present?), Big Brother (the government) tries to control thinking, openly lies, distorts the past, and attacks any who disagree.

Book Review: 1984, as someone wise said recently, is meant to be a cautionary tale, and not an instruction manual. When I read that 1984 had topped the Amazon sales charts because of the recent concept of "alternate facts," I jumped on the bandwagon (what is a bandwagon for if not to be jumped on?), but assumed that its applicability to today would be limited. After all, the book was written almost 70 years ago (my copy is in its 135th printing) and even its "futuristic" title date is long in the past. Yet in just the first few pages we're introduced to the concept of "Hate Week," learned that health care is insufficient and that television is routinely used for propaganda, that enormous portraits of the leader and his name are everywhere, that history is changeable and deniable, and that "ignorance is strength." Yikes. Although in many ways this is an exaggerated view of a dystopia, it was all too easy to read this pessimistic view of society, human nature, and evil, as if living through it. Based on 1930s and '40s Nazi Germany and communist Russia, it still seemed all too real. I first read this when a young teenager and distinctly recall feeling menaced by the gray, barren world Orwell had created. On this re-read, I'm only minimally more optimistic, or maybe more foolish. 1984 is an overtly political book, and suffers from the same flaws as all overly political art: too talky, telling not showing, long ranting diatribes, the author coming through louder than the characters. All of that is true, but this book succeeds and overwhelms anyway. Even the Saharan "book within the book" and Appendix didn't slow me down (how many novels have an Appendix?). A book must have Herculean strength to succeed despite those obstacles. Would the book have been stronger if Orwell had expanded the powerful "showing" sections and trimmed the slow-moving "telling" sections? Yes. But his descriptions life in "Oceania" (one of three great nation states -- still basically true today) are overwhelming and too close for comfort: the 85% of society that constitutes the lower class ("the proles") and the 15% that comprise the Party. This book, more famous than read, has become part of our thinking and our language, but is still capable of thought-provoking surprise. A few things Orwell got wrong: in 1984 the proles rarely have televisions. As we know, society has made sure that television is available to almost everyone. And he thought television would be used primarily for propaganda, instead of primarily to sedate the masses (he thought the opiates would be gin and Party activities). Along with We by Zamyatin, and Brave New World by Huxley, 1984 is one of the first dystopias (then called "negative utopias"). In his valuable Afterword (1961), Erich Fromm writes about the early utopian books (starting with Utopia by Thomas More), which described what a perfect society would look like and how to achieve it. Here Orwell describes just how close we are to becoming a totalitarian society (look how quickly it happened in the 1930s), and how controlling language, history, and privacy can deform human nature. 1984 is a book that will always be valuable and necessary. [5★]