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These beautifully crafted poems - by turns dark, playful, intensely moving, tender, and intimate - make up Margaret Atwood's most accomplished and versatile gathering to date, " setting foot on the middle ground / between body and word." Some draw on history, some on myth, both classical and popular. Others, more personal, concern themselves with love, with the fragility of the natural world, and with death, especially in the elegiac series of meditations on the death of a parent. But they also inhabit a contemporary landscape haunted by images of the past. Generous, searing, compassionate, and disturbing, this poetry rises out of human experience to seek a level between luminous memory and the realities of the everyday, between the capacity to inflict and the strength to forgive.
- Sales Rank: #210909 in Books
- Brand: Atwood, Margaret Eleanor
- Published on: 1996-09-16
- Released on: 1996-09-16
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 7.25" h x 5.50" w x .50" l, .32 pounds
- Binding: Paperback
- 144 pages
From Publishers Weekly
In her first poetry collection since 1987's Selected Poems II, Atwood brings a swift, powerful energy to meditative poems that often begin in domestic settings and then broaden into numinous dialogues. In "In the Secular Night," the speaker, who has wandered through her house talking to herself of the "sensed absences of God," realizes "Several hundred years ago/this could have been mysticism/ or heresy. It isn't now." In five roughly thematic sections, Atwood often displays incisive humor ("Ava Gardner Reincarnated as a Magnolia"). The most vivid poems forge an apprehensible human aspect from scholarly fields of science, history and religion: in "Half-hanged Mary" a woman who was being hanged for witchery, survives and tolls each hour until she is cut down. The final grouping seems compiled from the charred remains of a deeply examined life, where only "the power of what is not there" may transcend. Atwood's lean, free-verse style renders these apocryphal poems intimate and immediate.
Copyright 1995 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
This is Atwood's first poetry collection in a decade, and its publication (her 12th overall) is a reminder that she is as prolific a poet as she is a novelist. As in her fiction, these poems are written with an arched eyebrow toward the foibles of the sexes, but she is at her most barbed when mocking the constraints society imposes on women. In an acerbic series of poems on famous femmes fatales, she empowers her women by lampooning "men and their mournful romanticisms/that can't get the dishes done." Atwood's satiric side is balanced by a darker, almost melancholy lyricism, shadowed by loss and a growing awareness of mortality. One section of the book is devoted to a group of moving poems on the death of her father and how the dead?"especially those we have loved the most"?return "from where we have shoved them/from under the ground, from under the water/they clutch at us,/we won't let go." Recommended for contemporary poetry collections and libraries with a strong Atwood following.?Christine Stenstrom, Brooklyn P.L., N.Y.
Copyright 1995 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Booklist
The blood of a sexually liberated generation ran cold at Atwood's lancing epigraph to Power Politics (1971): "You fit into me / like a hook into an eye // a fish-hook / an open eye." No poet better expressed the could-be-lethal frisson of deep love-lust, the tart, equivocal successes and failures of late-twentieth-century romance. In the first section in her new collection, she returns to the love dance, middle-aged and more experienced if not wiser, and gives us poems as right-sounding, memorable, and pithy as her best a quarter-century ago. In later sections, she turns to goddess myths, history, archaeology, family stories, and dreams--all subjects she has taken up before--and if she is not consistently persuasive, she is always vital, powerful, magnetically readable. Political, too, although never propagandistic. Rather, she is a contemporary, female Whittier or Kipling--technically adroit, imagistically rich, immediately accessible. She is a popular poet of the very first water. Readers who know only her novels really owe it to themselves to read her poems. Ray Olson
Most helpful customer reviews
14 of 15 people found the following review helpful.
Profound. Simple. Human.
By Myrtle Poplar
This book is very aptly titled. The poems feel like waking up in a pile of cinders that used to be a house. Not sad really. Just sort of empty. As if everything has been reduced to stark facts with a few flowers sprouting here and there out of the ashes. There is something profoundly touching about these poems. They do an amazing job of conveying the spent feeling after the huge emotional turmoil of losing a parent. One line from the book that runs through my head sometimes: "After a pause, she says--he hears her say--'I love you like salt.'"
10 of 10 people found the following review helpful.
Spare, unsparing poetry, as contemporary as laser.
By A Customer
Margaret Atwood is an unnerving poet. The poems from her
latest collection, Morning in the Burned House, slip into
the dark spaces of the heart and probe the truths hidden
there with a surgeon's calm attention and impersonal
compassion. Nothing frightens off her surgical pen. And, to
stretch the metaphor, there are the same displays of black,
laconic humour with which every surgical team challenges
death to another round. While many of the poems maintain a
cool detachment, more or less amused, Atwood is equally
adept at embracing the intensely personal with both love or
anger. The most poignant poems in this collection deal with
the death of the poet's father - and indeed, as the title
of this collection suggests, a sense of loss is at the heart
of many of these poems. Atwood's poetic vision of the
world is often sharp and bleak. She speaks of this in
"Owl Burning" when she writes, "You have soft feet./You
don't know what it's like/so close to bedrock'.
This is contemporary poetry at its rock hardest - and
it's most memorable.
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful.
Isn't There Enough of the Past Without Making More
By B. Albanese
The title poem leads us to Atwood's dense, ironic world: "In the burned
house I am eating breakfast. You understand:there is no house, there is no breakfast, yet here I am." The poet occupies that space where reality, the present, is informed by imagination's creative re-rendering
of an encroaching past.
"Waiting" announces the appearance of " the dark thing...waited for so long." Atwood recounts various musings about this dark thing before it really becomes present and finds that it " is strangely like home."
She then details that past in a sepia-toned reverie in which she realizes " for the first time in your life that you would be old." The
dark thing-- being in an "old murky" body, "a stranger's body you could not even imagine" is here now and yet "nothing new". The fear of being old
she felt as a child and had forgotten " has now come true".
There is tough humor present everywhere. In the voice of Sekhmet,
The Lion-Headed Goddess of War, Atwood so easily diminishes the monuments
of men that Ozymandias would be unable to stifle a bitter laugh:
"I see the temple where I was born or built, where I held power.
I see the desert beyond, where the hot, conical tombs,that look
from a distance, frankly, like dunces' hats
hide my jokes....
The turn of expectation in the enjambment is one merit of her work.
The language of these poems may seem sparse, but that language
elicits from its self-references, its sharp ironies, its pronouncements,
an emotional richness where the reader, now attuned to its subtle internal melodies, recognizes that something important and true is being said.
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