I hesitated before deciding whether to write about The Dance, the new collection of poetry by Christian Wiman. It wasn’t because I didn’t like; I did, enormously. It was more like the experience of entering the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam, or the little chapel in the crypt of St. Bride’s Church in London. You feel the weight of the experience and the inevitable silence, even in a crowded room.
With The Dance, you’ve stepped into a quiet that demands you listen without speaking.
I’ve had this experience before with Wiman’s writing, both his poetry and his memoir, My Bright Abyss. That memoir was so intense that I needed three months to read it, sometimes only a paragraph or a page a day. I was reading it when I took an overseas trip, and I deliberately left it home because I knew it would overshadow everything I was about to see.
My first novel, Dancing Priest, begins at the University of Edinburgh with a conversation between a theology student, Michael Kent, and his roommate and best friend, Tommy McFarland. Michael will earn his theology degree and move to San Francisco. More adventures await in the next four books in the series. But if I was writing that novel today, I’d have to do something different – the University of Edinburgh, after 440 years,is dropping its divinity program.
If you wander around Poet’s Corner in London’s Westminster Abbey, you’ll find an amazing array of tombs and memorial stones – Charles dickens, Geoffrey Chaucer, the World War I poets, Samuel Johnson, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Rudyard Kipling, Lewis Carroll, C.S. Lewis, W.H. Auden, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Robert Browning, and so many more. And now joining them with a memorial plaque will be J.R.R. Tolkien.
I’m a sucker for a good love poem. Apparently, I’m not the only one. Poetry about the subject of love is as old as poetry itself. Some of the most famous poems in literature are about love.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” Shakespeare’s “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” Lord Byron’s “She walks in beauty.” “Endymion” by John Keats. Robert Burns’ red, red rose. William Butler Yeats’ “When You Are Old.” Virtually every poet has written about love. And it’s no wonder. Love may be the emotion, the feeling, the condition, and the presence we experience across languages, culture, histories, and geographies.
As poet James Tweedie demonstrates in his new collection, Love: Found, Yearned For, and Lost, love is a big topic, not only covering a range of conditions and realities but also poetic forms.
You don’t understand the title of the chapbook To Sing You. and to Shout until you finish reading all its 17 poems. Poet Jessica Covil-Manset packs powerful emotion, reflections on a family, and eventual resolution into those few poems in a way that leaves you impressed with the impact and reflecting on your own family dynamics. Much of the focus is on the mother of the family, the one who leaves length voicemails, sings out of tune (and knows it), whose messages are sometimes, but not always spiteful, the one who is “my heartache / My biggest fan.” It’s not a flattering portrait, but it is also not entirely critical.
My wife and I have joke about PBS: When all else fails, do Downton Abbey or some variation on the theme. Reruns, fundraisers – it seems at times it all turns to Downton Abbey and the Crawley family. And now, for the true fan of the famed British television series, comes the spinoff to end all spinoffs – the 4,711-piece Official Downtown Abbey LEGO set, complete with 13 minifigures! And it’s only $349.99!
Most of what we read about the Declaration of Independence focuses on the events leading up to it, the writing of it, or what it still means. Emily Sneff took a different approach and looked at how the Declaration was disseminated in the six months after its adoption by the Continental Congress.
What do you do when your entire life seems to have hit a wall, and you simply don’t have the will to go on? Marc Sims at Et Cetera takes that familiar experience and sets it in the context of Christianity.
It’s difficult for me to imagine that I’ve had a Facebook account for at least 17 years, but a Facebook memory popped up this week to prove it. It caught my attention became of the title: “Who Were You in My Dream?”
I thought, why does that sound like a poem?
Probably because it was. But not just any poem.
One Saturday afternoon in the summer of 2009, back when Twitter was called Twitter, three people were having a Twitter conversation – L.L. Barkat, Jim Woods, and myself. Somehow, the subject turned to poetry (well. L.L. Barkat was involved, so that was probably inevitable), and we began tweeting poetic lines at each other. And an idea was born. What about doing a poetry jam on Twitter?