Customer Reviews

Of Being Numerous

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I don't know much about George Oppen--except to note in passing that he was among those victimized by the anti-Communist hysteria of the '50s--but he has just become one of my favorite poets for having produced this sleek little volume. The poems here are extremely terse and rock-like; every word is carefully chosen; and the result is verse of uncommon force and directness. Not many poets can say so much with so little (from the title poem): "You are the last/Who will know him/Nurse//Not know him,/He is an old man,/A patient,/How could one know him?//You are the last/Who will see him/Or touch him,/Nurse." If you're like me and have had your share of "chatty" or self-consciously clever wordsmiths, this is strong stuff. (As he writes elsewhere: "I have not and never did have any motive of poetry/But to achieve clarity.") Oppen's chilly, Spartan poetry sounds like it should be chiseled in stone, and he can be winning even when he departs from form, as proven by the prose sections in "Route." It's intense, haunting, and truly memorable (and I mean this last adjective literally: I can remember this stuff after I've put the book down, whereas most poetry disintegrates in my head almost instantly). This is the real thing, people, and you owe it to yourself to find a copy.

For some reason, you link people with an interest in Oppen to "fiction" here. Oppen wrote no fiction at all--this book, like all his books, is a book of poems. You may want to link people to poetry