A Village Life, Louise Gluck's eleventh collection of poems, begins in the topography of a village, a Mediterranean world of no definite moment or place: " ""All the roads in the village unite at the fountain.""Avenue of Liberty, Avenue of the Acacia Trees--""The fountain rises at the center of the plaza;""on sunny days, rainbows in the piss of the cherub.""--from "tributaries"" Around the fountain are concentric circles of figures, organized by age and in degrees of distance: fields, a river, and, like the fountain's opposite, a mountain. Human time superimposed on geologic time, all taken in at a glance, without any undue sensation of speed. Gluck has been known as a lyrical and dramatic poet; since Ararat, she has shaped her austere intensities into book-length sequences. Here, for the first time, she speaks as "the type of describing, supervising intelligence found in novels rather than poetry," as Langdon Hammer has written of her long lines--expansive, fluent, and full--manifesting a calm omniscience. While Gluck's manner is novelistic, she focuses not on action but on pauses and intervals, moments of suspension (rather than suspense), in a dreamlike present tense in which poetic speculation and reflection are possible.
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Feels like you are old and tired, nodding by the fire or sitting in the winter sunlight, fearing or welcoming that moment to come. And some voice is murmuring within your head, but it's not your own. Will we return to seek what we cast behind? Will we achieve what we craved for from childhood?
评分Feels like you are old and tired, nodding by the fire or sitting in the winter sunlight, fearing or welcoming that moment to come. And some voice is murmuring within your head, but it's not your own. Will we return to seek what we cast behind? Will we achieve what we craved for from childhood?
评分Feels like you are old and tired, nodding by the fire or sitting in the winter sunlight, fearing or welcoming that moment to come. And some voice is murmuring within your head, but it's not your own. Will we return to seek what we cast behind? Will we achieve what we craved for from childhood?
评分今年开始也争取在豆瓣上多记录一下读的书吧。这本小诗集名为村庄生活，是2020年诺贝尔文学奖得主的作品，去年11月从图书馆借来后因为疫情没法归还，偶尔早上上班前朗读一小段，仿佛回到了初中时早读的时光，那大概就算是我的“村庄”生活。村庄生活象征了人生的很多意义，它既是远行的起点，也往往是回归的终点，是童年的无忧无虑，也是老年的无所适从，是生机，也是死寂。读之前原本以为自己不会对这些诗作产生太多兴趣，但看到这一句时便惊为天人——“毕竟已经活了这么久，想死太正常了；如果一个人已经死了这么久，大概也厌倦了天堂。”
评分I have reached a certain age when themes, though vast, start to reappear. It is a good sign, so I interprete.
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