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Winter Hours

Prose, Prose Poems, and Poems

ebook
1 of 2 copies available
1 of 2 copies available

"On the subject of writing poetry, Oliver is the most enlightened and enlightening author I have read." -Susan Salter Reynolds, Los Angeles Times

From the winner of the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award comes Winter Hours, Mary Oliver's most personal book yet. And never more so than in this extraordinary and engaging gathering of nine essays, accompanied by a brief selection of new prose poems and poems.

With the grace and precision that have won her legions of admirers, Oliver talks here of turtle eggs and housebuilding, of her surprise at an unexpected whistling she hears, of the "thousand unbreakable links between each of us and everything else." She talks of her own poems and of some of her favorite poets: Poe, writing of "our inescapable destiny," Frost and his ability to convey at once that "everything is all right, and everything is not all right," the "unmistakably joyful" Hopkins, and Whitman, seeking through his poetry "the replication of a miracle." And Oliver offers us a glimpse as well of her "private and natural self—something that must in the future be taken into consideration by any who would claim to know me."

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    • Publisher's Weekly

      March 29, 1999
      The usually remote and discreet Oliver, who has won the NBA and Pulitzer Prize for her poetry, comes to the autobiographical fore in this odd miscellany. The prose piece "Sister Turtle" tells of how Oliver, in an act of weird communion with a mother turtle she tracks through the woods, breaks her vegetarian regime to eat the eggs she thieves from the turtle's sandy nest. "Swoon" gorgeously describes a spider weaving her "chaotic" web in the corner of a rented house's stairwell, her egg sac like a "Lilliputian gas balloon." When the spider, dramatic and balletic, kills a windfall cricket, Oliver's close attention to and lack of ease with nature make this essay more immediate and arresting than the collection's several poems. The continuation of the "Sand Dabs" series from two earlier books includes, in "Sand Dabs, Four" deflated lines like "The arena of things, the theater of the imagination, the everywhere of faith." Her inspirational abstractions--"Does the grain of sand/Know it is a grain of sand?"--cast doubt upon the stronger lines by association. As a belle lettrist--the collection contains brief meditations on Poe, Frost, Hopkins and Whitman--Oliver is clear and winningly didactic, but the collection as a whole never quite feels cohesive or purposeful.

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  • English

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