Rating: 4 out of 5 stars. Her work reminded me greatly of Marie Howe, another female poet writing on among other things the body's oft-ignored sensuality even in the face of an abusive world or family. She also writes, ominously, of the threat of love's loss. It really is the little things that make give a poem its impact. Personally, I found this book fairly, for lack of a better term, psychedelic, from my vantage point as a man and as being a young boy during the time when this was written.
It says a lot about a writer that you want to read their works again- after completing a course in which they were covered. Which is not to say they aren't art - quite on the contrary. Her second collection, The Dead and the Living, won the 1983 Lamont Poetry Prize and the National Book Critics Circle Award. I feel as though I have broken. It's been a long time since I actively sought out new poetry to read, but Sharon Olds changed that in a flash. I do not know the authors background though she writes as if traumatized. Olds banishes the old stereotypes and pours the very blood in her heart out onto the paper over her words and splits the myths and fallacies wide open.
This is a poetry which affirms and redeems the art. Sometimes her poems explore the kind of territory most would either consign to an edgy memory or abandon altogether. I am trying to write myway out of the closed boxredolent of cedar. Listen to this rec It's been a long time since I actively sought out new poetry to read, but Sharon Olds changed that in a flash. This book is as close to perfect as I have ever seen, I think. The men's bodieswere like our father's body! Hey I digg em just like the rest of the world, but they get a little old after a while.
Yes, I would have liked to been on this journey with her from the beginning, but I will settle for doing some backtracking so I can catch up on this bumpy, but moving, ride. . When it is experienced, it becomes something that we want more of. She writes what every woman thinks but cannot or will not put into words on paper. She disrobes bearing the unflinching nudity, she then sheds this flesh, revealing her organs including the reproductive ones. It seems Sharon Olds' first published book of poetry is one of her best. It really is the little things that make give a poem its impact.
She currently teaches poetry workshops at New York University's Graduate Creative Writing Program as well as a workshop at Goldwater Hospital on Roosevelt Island in New York. Olds has gone on to create an impressively bold body of work. And did the anti-Christ grant her wish, transforming her into the poet who was now capable of moving me to tears? He stands on the porch, peeing into the grass, watching a bird fly around the house, and ends up pissing on the front door. The poet pulls no punches. I've read most of her books more than ten times a piece, so I was surprised that when I sat down to reread Satan Says, the Rosetta Stone of Olds' body of work, what I was seeing, sadly for the first time, were subtle details my brain had skipped right over in the years before.
Olds has a Louise Gluckian air about her sometimes that I enjoy often this is when a rare and dark sense of humor comes in. Published in 1980 I think the context is significant in terms of how we can appreciate and digest the poems themselves. Her risks, which have been unnecessary at some points in her With this collection, Olds brings her own brutal, sexual style of confessional poetry. I groan to remember it, and when we started to die, then I refuse to remember, the way a drunkard forgets. It's an early indication, perhaps, of the fascinating, and complicated, relationship in Olds's work between life and art. Line-breaks, imagery, tone, subject-matter, rhythm, the variousness of emotion… Here is the poem: When you tilted toward me, arms out like someone trying to walk through a fire, when you swayed toward me, crying out you were sorry for what you had done to me, your eyes filling with terrible liquid like balls of mercury from a broken thermometer skidding on the floor, when you quietly screamed Where else could I turn? The paradox is a potent one: the need to write from direct experience, and the desire to construct ways to calibrate this exposure. I love the way Sharon talks, but I feel like not much of it made much sense for what she was trying to say.
Sharon Olds' debut is powerful, to say the least. It is her debut novel, so it could be just that it wasn't well done, but I hear her other work is good, and I may check her out in the future! This book is a painstaking detail of woman--both particular and generalized in one of the best executions of craft I've ever read. Eliot Prize in England, and was a finalist for the National Book Award and the National Book Critics Circle Award. I've read most of her books more than ten times a piece, so I was surprised that when I sat down to reread Satan Says, the Rosetta Stone of Olds' body of work I've resisted putting my reviews of Sharon Olds' poems up on the Internet, mainly because I haven't had time to give these deep meditations proper appreciation. It seems passed on as though through the pangs of breast milk. Poet: Sharon Olds is best known for her deeply personal content and her fearlessness with vulgarities and the comfort with which she approaches sensitive subjects such as the dark side of family interactions and sex. This is unforgettable, powerful, of high value---poetry of the human experience.
I have never been moved by poetry as much as I have by this book. I had to pause after this and sit there laughing, gently laughing in utter joy. I found this book to be very uneven. Sometimes he is slightly smiling, but mostly he just gazes at me gazing, his entire face lit. Her voice is gentle and her manner is, too.
This is a woman who has lived and loved with great passion but who has, I think, also lived in fear of being hurt. I was at the kitchen table, writing. At Columbia she struggled to write like George Oppen and Gary Snyder while working on a dissertation on Emerson. She writes what every woman thinks but cannot or will not put into words on paper. Freed up, she began to write about her family, abuse, sex, focusing on the work not the audience.