Poems 1965-75 Pb [Paperback]

Margaret Atwood (Author)

Book Description

Publication Date: January 28, 1991

The first of two volumes of the poetry of the Canadian writer whose first published collection, "The Circle Game", won the Governor-General's Award. Margaret Atwood's early poems are characterized by intensity combined with sardonic detachment.

Editorial Reviews

From Library Journal

Atwood is considered by many to be among Canada's finest writers, and her new collection should support that opinion. Thematically complex, her poetry is difficult to categorize: when she writes about Canada, as in "Four Small Elegies," she goes beyond a regional perspective; and though a feminist, she does not necessarily evoke pacifism. Violence, she discovers, is implicit in human nature, as shown in the snake poem "She": "He's our idea of a bad time, we are his./ I say he out of habit. It could be she. " Fatalistic and mordant, her diction may be post-modern but is neither experimental nor obscure. Ivan Arguelles, Univ. of California at Berkeley Lib.
Copyright 1987 Reed Business Information, Inc. --This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.

About the Author

MARGARET ATWOOD'S poetry, like her fiction - including The Handmaid's Tale and the Booker-winning The Blind Assassin -- is known and acclaimed around the world. Her last collection, Morning in the Burned House, won the Trillium Book Award in 1995. The author of more than forty works of fiction, poetry, critical essays, and books for children, Atwood has received top honors and awards in Canada, the United States, and the United Kingdom, and many other countries. She lives in Toronto. In 2008, Atwood was awarded the prestigious Prince of Asturias Award Laureate for Letters, considered to be the Spanish-language Nobel.

--This text refers to an alternate Paperback edition.

Product Details

• Paperback: 25 pages
• Publisher: Virago Press (January 28, 1991)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 1853812307
• ISBN-13: 978-1853812309
• Product Dimensions: 7.7 x 5.1 x 0.8 inches
• Shipping Weight: 6.4 ounces
• Average Customer Review: 5.0 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (2 customer reviews)
• Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #5,598,772 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

More About the Author

MARGARET ATWOOD, whose work has been published in over thirty-five countries, is the author of more than forty books of fiction, poetry, and critical essays. In addition to The Handmaid's Tale, her novels include Cat's Eye, shortlisted for the Booker Prize; Alias Grace, which won the Giller Prize in Canada and the Premio Mondello in Italy; The Blind Assassin, winner of the 2000 Booker Prize; and her most recent, Oryx and Crake, shortlisted for the 2003 Booker Prize. She lives in Toronto with writer Graeme Gibson.

Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

17 of 18 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars A Beautiful Composition, July 10, 2000

By 

Holly Herbert - See all my reviews

This review is from: Selected Poems: 1965-1975 (Paperback)

I first became interested in Ms. Atwood after reading one of her poems from Power Politics in a college text book: you fit into me/ like a hook into an eye/ an open eye/ a fish hook.. Selected Poems, 1965-1975 was my first purchase of her poetry, and I was not disappointed. This book is an exquisite example of Margaret Atwood's vivid imagery and examination of human relationships. One poem in this collection, titled Against Still Life, compares her relationship with a man to the frustration of not being able to touch an orange used for a still life painting. The poems cover a wide range of emotions, ranging from elaborate and lengthy to simple and brief. Each poem creates beautiful, lucid images in the mind of the reader. Her usage of biting wit and sarcasm resembles that of Sylvia Plath and Anne Sexton, but does not offend the reader with and excessive usage of suicidal energy or feminist rage that tends to pollute the work of the aforementioned poets. Since reading Selected Poems, 1965-1975, I have read many other volumes of Margaret Atwood's poetry, but none have touched me as deeply. This is also a great example of Atwood's earlier works, many of which are not available outside of this book, as the original volumes are now out of print. I would suggest this book for lovers of other Atwood writing, including her novels and short stories. This book is a definitive asset to any collector of her works.

1 of 1 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Margaret Atwood Holds Up A Knife, January 31, 2006

By 

M. D. Dalton "mdd" (Brooklyn, NY USA) - See all my reviews

This review is from: Selected Poems: 1965-1975 (Paperback)

Margaret Atwood holds up a knife. She flashes it in the light of the reader. She traces it along the flesh, and threatens violence, but she never throws the knife, nor does she inflict a wound. Occasionally a drop will surface, perhaps this is her intent, perhaps it isn't, perhaps it was the reader's pulling of her tool too close. This vacillation between whether or not the cut was meant or merely the idea of the cut is precisely where Atwood' poetry succeeds.

Violence is inherent in the world, it is natural, it can be gruesome, blunt and bloody, or simple, quiet and clean. This is the loom upon which Atwood weaves. In her Selected Poems 1965-1975 we find a tapestry containing all possible combinations of these facets of violence. Throughout we find drowned sons and fires, the blood of animals and humans, menacing, inner and outer warfare, revolts, rebellions. In Departures From The Bush the poem begins after a fire that has `erased' a bush, and the eventual occupation of said bush by animals, the fear involved in that occupation, the bareness of the limbs, the strange glowing eyes of the creatures that have made the burnt bush their home. In The Animals Of That Country there are images of a slain bull, wolves looming in the thick forests and finally a statement on the lack of elegance in death, especially in the deaths of the nameless. There is also the slow violence of withering, and aging into death or history, as in Elegy For The Giant Tortoises, and The Death Of The Other Children, both poems evoke the erosion upon a body by life. In all the selections of Circe/Mud Poems. Atwood explores the violent nature of choice, and how the very act of choosing one thing over another leaves the unchosen in a coffin. But again Atwood leaves it to the reader as to whether or not there will be blood "I made no choice, I decided nothing." And to Odysseus "will you hurt me? if you do I will fear you, if you don't I will despise you, to be feared, to be despised, theses are your choices."

If violences are the consonants, then transformations are the vowels. It is these two parts that form the words of Atwood's language. She transforms herself into a mirror repeatedly, as well as a heraldic emblem in the poem of the same title, she also transforms herself into Circe as well as transforming her subjects into Cyclopes and fortresses, and hunters, as well as an entire selection of poems called Songs Of The Transformed in which she gives the reader a first person account of being among other things worms, a siren, a bull, a fox, and pig and an owl that is "the heart of a murdered woman, who took the wrong way home, who was strangled in a vacant lot and not buried, who was shot with care beneath a tree. . ." The first words of each line in the first stanza beginning with `who'.

For Atwood there is always in the poem it seems a consideration of what is not being said, A nod to the universes created by the negative space, what one could do and the nature of that possibility in regard to the possibility that one could, though may not. This seems too to be evident in the subjects she chooses as well, the animals that she is not, the mirror that she could not possibly be, the songs and elegies of those that lie in pauper's graves. There could be, no there is, an entire song, there in the anonymous worms, a rebellion beneath our feet, there is Circe's side to the story there is the reflection's tale to tell. In a literary environment that sometimes seems to reach too far into the viscera, or too far in the other direction it is refreshing to read something that seems to meet itself halfway between the guts and great unknown. For it seems to Atwood that there is no better way to find the self than to become something else and look back at oneself through those eyes, even though those eyes are still irrevocably one's own. This attachment through detachment is a transformation wrought violently between the self and the other. transformation is violent, even if it is not covered in blood and screaming into death beneath the moonlight. Or maybe it is, Atwood begs you to decide, she has flashed us the knife, she has shown us the weapon, it is up to us to decide the rest.