From Publishers Weekly
Starred Review. Creeley, who died last year at 78, is among the American masters born in the 1920s, a generation that includes John Ashbery and Adrienne Rich. This slim volume, filled out with the cogent essay "Reflections on Whitman in Age," presents 31 poems of varying quality, from bad to sublime, and is a fitting final volume for a poet of relentless experimentation and major achievement. A jingly piece of antiwar propaganda, "Help!" seems specifically designed for those who aren't regular readers of verse, while "Caves," the longest poem in the volume, meanders. But in addresses to poets like John Wieners, Paul Blackburn and Ed Dorn, Creeley attains a loose intimacy that feels like friendship, and the final "Valentine for You," here in its entirety, is likely to be as associated with Creeley as "Crossing the Bar" is with Tennyson: "
Where from, where to/ the thought to do—//
Where with, whereby/ the means themselves now lie—//
Wherefor, wherein/ such hopes of reconciling heaven// Even the way is changed/ without you, even the day."
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Robert Creeley was clearly preoccupied with aging, regret, and acceptance while working on this final book before his death, in March 2005. With his signature straightforward style, he questions beliefs about memory, time, and living in the present. Buddhists have suggested that young people should tune into the aging and vice versa in order to accept life's natural cycle. Creeley evidently felt similarly when he asked a class to express their feelings about old people. After considering their comments on smelliness and ramblings, he wanted to tell them "you will all grow old, at least if you have any luck. To be human has growing old at its end." Based on the themes and mood of the poems in this collection, Creeley seemed to have reached a level of clarity and peace about his past, present, and inevitable departure. His poems speak with the understated power readers have come to expect from him, and this collection is a fitting good-bye from a poet whose work will surely live on.
Janet St. JohnCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved