Customer Reviews

Pity the Bathtub Its Forced Embrace of the Human Form

5 star:		(15)
4 star:		(3)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(4)

 

 

I am an avid reader of poetry, and Matthea Harvey's book is one of the best I've encountered in the past five years or so (at least). Her innovative work with form and syntax allows for both remarkable fluidity and sharp complexity. I have been getting to know her poems--at times reading them straight through for the sheer pleasure of the rhythmic and dramatic build, and at times focusing in on the rich,interconnecting layers. Her poems manage to do many things at once--and successfully. They are both fierce and delicate, playful and serious, emotional and intellectual, light-hearted and searingly intense--and I imagine this may cause jealous sparks from those who are incapable of navigating the territory of sharp and playful contradiction. But it seems to me that the two dissenting reviewers of this collection have more of a personal stake in the matter than the positive reviewers whose opinions they attack. I have never had the pleasure of meeting Miss Harvey, and I am not in the habit of writing internet reviews. But the dissenting voices smacked far too much of professional envy, rather than rigorous thought, and I loved this collection far too much to let their words stand uncontested.

Little known Alice James Books is putting out some fine work, and Matthea Harvey's first book of poems is the best I've seen in three years of first books. Although Adam Kirsch may find _Pity_ repetitive, you should find out for yourself. All poets are repetitive, you have to like what they're doing. Best way to find out is to do a quick search for her on the Net and read a few of her poems.

When I first sat down to read this book, I was taken by the whimsicality and humor of the poems. There is nothing "usual" here -- rather, one is given a discontented queen in a bathtub, a boy floating above an Italian festival, a lion-hunter writing letters to his love. Harvey's use of language and imagery in these poems is both surprising and delightful.

Yet, despite Harvey's playfulness, there's something serious at the heart of this book. Many of these poems deal with loneliness and the isolation inherent in being human. There's a way in which the people in these poems reach out again and again to the reader, asking not for pity, but to be understood. Harvey's talent lies not just in the vivid images she evokes on the page, but also in the strength of the emotions she conveys in her silences. I found this a truly remarkable collection.

A friend recommended this book to me, and after I had read it once to myself, I read most of the poems to my husband -- I couldn't resist the desire to hear the words aloud. I don't read much poetry, but the images within Harvey's poems are so vivid! They are lingering with me even now, days later.

the poetry in matthea harvey's first collection is so smart, so meditative, and so provocative I've kept it by my bedside to read over and over again. Something new and profound is revealed with each reading. The rhythm in her poetry both reflects and utilizes the patterns of nature itself - the language patterns are evidence of the complicated inner workings of some great machine. her book is also full of raw emotion; it's a remarkable effort.

This isn't exactly what I was hoping for when I started reading. The book looks a lot more experimental than it is in reality, many forms employed in it seeming to come from other books, famous contemporary writers like Jorie Graham or WS Merwin or Michael Palmer. I guess in some way copying the forms of experimental writers is experimental, but it's also not very original and wears on the experienced reader. You can tell though that this is a writer who knows what she's doing.

I loved this book of poetry. I must say that I don't often buy poetry books, but this was an exception and I found it moving and extraordinary. It keeps me hopeful that small books of poetry can change the world, or our lives for a moment.

Matthea Harvey's poems gallop. They breathe. And they are deliciously dense. She articulates longing and mercy and danger in a more interesting way than any young poet I've read in a long time. I love this book.

This book is sure to inspire formulaic fits of whining from the envious and those umbilically obsessed with the faux-political signifier of contemporary 'verse.' Even a cursory reading, however, will establish that Harvey's poetry lives in none of the categories to which it is assigned. It's NOT a bedside table book - nor can it be a prosthesis for revolution: one reading is blind to the malice in Harvey's garden, the other enslaved to ruling class fantasies of 'real action' she isn't fooled by. Between these apogees, meanwhile, live the real poems - artifacts of struggle with life's dialectic of 'just live' and 'do something.' Read them again and see.

From its gutsy title to its ambitious experimentation with form, to its surprising range and depth of subject matter, this is a brave new book. Matthea Harvey's is a voice to reckon with.