From Publishers Weekly
Having achieved prominence in the U.K. for his deft arrangements of ordinary (often suburban) experience into elaborate (often Audenesque) stanzas, British poet Maxwell has lived and taught for the last few years in New England. Following 1999's U.S. debut The Breakage, last year saw the U.S. publication of the verse-novel Time's Fool and the selected collection The Boys at Twilight, with the novel garnering national reviews. This new collection applies Maxwell's fluent gifts to his recent years in America, with a particular focus on western and central Massachusetts. The poet moves from "the rough shape/ your life makes in your town," "out into Massachusetts" past "Massachusetts cows," a town fair, "whole biking dynasties" and the football rivalries of the Pioneer Valley. Several short lyrics simply present valley evenings, stone walls, sets of trees; those with more narrative content eulogize friends or present short tales, including one vignette about a child-sex sting. Maxwell often comes up empty on trying to hit payoff notes ("if time could hear/ it would hear silence"), but readers who seek variety in formal choices will be pleased (as in past volumes) by Maxwell's well-managed pentameters, speedy couplets and fluid syllabics: the especially accomplished final poem offers a set of deft off-rhymes, from "message" to "village" to "knowledge."
Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information, Inc.
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From Library Journal
Englishman Maxwell (The Breakage) divides his time between Amherst, MA, and New York City and also serves as poetry editor for the New Republic. Like Auden, he is a wry social commentator, fascinated by American phenomena like football games, country fairs, TV weather forecasters, and Internet chat rooms. But he also probes "the nerve" underlying this middle-class predictability. Notably, he describes women writing to criminals on death row, an eccentric who stages his own funeral, and "Genie," the speechless California "wild child." These oddities form "the outline of somewhere/ inhospitable/ with other rules." Like Dickinson and Frost, he is able to bring an effortless moral and aesthetic compression to his work; a discussion of poets and poetry ends thus: "When a verse/ has done its work, it tells there'll be one day/ nothing but the verse." Maxwell composes in a unique musical signature with an obvious gift for phrasing, as when a stream riffles like "a lady smoothing out her sleeve." He is a poet who bears watching on both sides of the Atlantic. Highly recommended. Daniel L. Guillory, Millikin Univ., Decatur, IL
Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.