Customer Reviews

Proofs and Theories

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

 

 

"The fundamental experience of the writer is helplessness," declares Louise Glück in the opening sentence of the first essay in _Proofs & Theories_. Although the type of helplessness Glück proceeds to describe differs from the sense of weakness with which a prose writer might attempt to review a book of poetry, the words nonetheless create a bridge between the poet-essayist and her reader. They ease the tension, the anxiety. The education begins.

Glück's essays remind the prose writer that all "reviews" may share certain features. Simple titles that target the subject ("On T.S. Eliot; "On Stanley Kunitz") work well; so, too, may titles that promise treatment of an elusive yet alluring theme: ("The Forbidden"; "Invitation and Exclusion"). On the whole, _Proofs & Theories_ also supports the notion that a review need not be long. Glück notes that most of her poet-contemporaries "are interested in length: they want to write long lines, long stanzas, long poems"; one might add that a number of literary reviewers are interested in writing long reviews, and such pieces are not always necessary. Finally, the essays convey a general impression that the _substance_ of a piece of literature is equally important (if not more so) than its _style_.

This last point is crucial for a prose writer approaching the task of reviewing poetry. Louise Glück's essays reveal preoccupations shared by prose writers--by this prose writer, anyway. Themes. Tone. Voice. It's perfectly all right, _Proofs & Theories_ tells the prose writer, to discuss poetry in these terms. One need not try to dazzle at first meeting with "metonymy" and "synecdoche," with "blank verse" and "internal rhyme." So don't be scared off.

It would, therefore, be acceptable to write an essay titled "On Louise Glück." To choose a theme from _Meadowlands_ or another of Glück's own works, to write about. Or to focus on the poet's voice in selected poems from one of her collections.

It might even be permissible to bring one's own experience of reading into the review. Thus Glück might learn of the moments when _she_ affected a reader, perhaps not to the extent that her own "encounter with [Wallace] Stevens was shattering." But she would see that her poet's presence as "human voice...a companion spirit" made a difference, in the moment of reading, and beyond.

And she would realize, if she doesn't already, that _Proofs & Theories_ provides an excellent education for anyone--prose writer or poet--seeking lessons into the craft of literary reviewing.

Louis Gluck writes brilliant poems which meander around the serious issues of existence ,life ,love ,alienation ,separation,memories and dreams.This is a prose exposition of a collection of her essays which in a way talk of the methods of her craft and give her thoughts on tangible topics such as a critique of the works of T.S.Eliot and more abstract ideas such as the need for brevity in poetry.In another sense these prose meditations are in fact an adjunt to her poems and are meaningful in their own right.From apparently nowhere come profound ideas ,i quote"When you read anything worth remembering,you liberate a human voice;you release into the world again a companion spirit".Louise Gluck is herself a voice well worth listening to ,a contemporary philosopher who can address the important issues fearlessly and with clarity of thought .A gem of a book don't miss it.

Have you ever wanted to get into the mind of a writer? Find out what makes them tick outside of their art? Louise Gluck's Proofs and Theories: Essays on Poetry does just that. Having recently read the book for a class, I was immediately sucked in by the first essay, "Education of the Poet." There I found in Gluck's work an indomitable spirit, a certain fearlessnss and insistence like the determination of a newborn as it is being pushed out of the womb.

Gluck said early on she had "great resources of will and no self." This strength of will and lack of self almost led to her death. Since she often felt unheard, she took adolescent rebelliousness a few notches higher than most teens. Because her parents wanted her to eat, she willed herself to eschew hunger. As Gluck neared 75 pounds, she found she had to make some decisions. Eventually, she enrolled in The School of General Studies at Columbia and studied poetry under Leonie Adams and later, reknowned poet, Stanley Kunitz.

Any writer who has ever struggled with declaring his or her vocation in life can readily identify with Gluck's struggle in this first essay. "...And most writers spend much of their time in various kinds of torment: wanting to write, being unable to write; wanting to write differently, being unable to write differently."

Another favorite essay, "On Stanley Kunitz" may appeal to those who aspire to be teachers or who have ever worked with a dynamic and inspiring teacher or mentor. Gluck defines what is the essence of the teacher/student relationship in her work/apprenticeship with Stanley Kunitz: "For five years I overheard a splendid mind engaged with words, with what was the most crucial involvement in my life..."..."I felt much of the time, doomed and exhilarated, or, in practical terms, always very tired like a salmon swimming against the current."... "...in the most profound sense, Kunitz was the first human being by whom I felt entirely heard and this fact was a source of endless happiness." How perfect if all teachers could achieve this level of "heard-ness" with students, and if all students strived for this level of participation in their own education. The special bond between the two is tenderly and honestly rendered in this essay.

In another essay, "On George Oppen", Gluck discusses a poet whose style she reveres and one who may have also influenced her style. Gluck's own work uses an economy of words and therefore she admires that trait in others. She remarks that early on she knew what type of style she wanted to write and she gravitated toward those who could support that vision. "As a reader, consequently as a writer," Gluck writes, "I am partial to most forms of voluntary silence. I love what is implicit or present in outline, that which summons (as opposed to imposes) thought."

Gluck's essays are the quintessential writer's resource. A book that follows along the deep waters of a deeply gifted poet. Not a book for light reading, but one you would want to have a notebook handy for recording the especially profound statements.

The author of the book entitled Proofs & Theories is an excellent poet; her best poems are simple, clear, and direct. The Wild Iris is a masterpiece. But she is no prose writer. The essays in Proofs & Theories are filled with high-falutin' phrases and convuluted thoughts. Her syntax is confusing, to say the least. I bought this book thinking it would be great, but was very disappointed in it. I read no insights into the craft of writing poetry; I simply ended up with a headache. Don't waste your money on this book. Whomever told this woman that she could write prose was wrong. Her publisher should have taken a second look. I'd like to have my money back.

Taken in sum, Proofs & Theories serves as a place to begin assessing the shortfalls and liabilities of contemporary poetry. She explores such pernicious problems as the emphasis on "sincerity" as opposed to authenticity, the valorizing of obsession as "courage" in the critical lexicon, the promulgation of the subjective, and, as she writes in "Invitation and Exclusion," "the proprietary obsessiveness of much contemporary poetry which stakes out territorial claims based on personal history: my father, my pain, my persistent memory." Of these, the notion of "sincerity," of telling the truth--or at least seeming to--perhaps most pervades discussion of contemporary poetry; one strives to affect a sincere tone, to modulate one's voice such that the sincerity cannot be called into question. In "Against Sincerity," Glück notes the "gap between truth and actuality" and argues, "The artist's task...involves the transformation of the actual to the true." And, further, that "the ability to achieve such transformations...depends on conscious willingness to distinguish truth from honesty or sincerity." Equally "unnerv[ing]" is "the thought that authenticity, in the poem, is not produced by sincerity." Here, she posits a careful distinction; that which leaves the after-taste of authenticity--that which strikes us as credible, reliable, as true--may not be voiced in the saccharine tones of excessive sincerity.

I am more inclined to Gluck's poetry than her essays in this book, which has won the 1993 PEN/Martha Albrand Award for First Non-Fiction. Many readers are offended by Gluck's prose, which is said to be digressive and convoluted. And I agree with this view, at some point. I am not bothered by her syntax (Derrida and Lacan and many other philosophers are even more off-putting); however, I am concerned with how the renown poet is trying to make herself understood.

In each chapter, Gluck attempts to illustrate certain points, either on the life as a poet, or on the sort of poetry she is advocating or standing against. Some elaborations are easy to get, while some not. When they are obscure, it is mainly because Gluck is not using concrete terms for explanation. In this case, I think it's easier to understand the works of the poet than herself.

Despite this, there are a few illuminating essays, which are written not with skills, but wisdom. Look at the first line of the book: "The fundamental experience of writers is helplessness." Upon reading this, readers immediately know this book is not a usual craft book on poetry, but rather a commentary on the genre and hopefully more about the writer's own writing life.

Towards the end of the book, Gluck discusses a few of her early poems and mentions their strengths and weaknesses, which I think she should have done more. Also, the poet mentions how at some times she cannot write one single word, yet the way she resumes writing again is not given in details. Therefore, it seems to me that it is natural not being able to write, and even more natural that one day she (and therefore us?) can write again.

Her discussion on the engagement of Eliot's and Stevens's works is interesting, though she does not really do it directly. I keep thinking of the randomness in Stevens's works thereafter, and also reflecting on the notion in my pieces.

Louise Gluck is a fantastic unique thinker & these essays on poetry are always luminously brilliant. Her thoughts on poetry are great to read for anyone with serious interest in poetry & the experience of being a writer.

Louise Gluck's collection of essays on poetry illuminates the intricacies of poetry, the role of the poet's education on his or her work, and other topics. She provides numerous close readings, and her simple and provocative style serve to make the book easy to understand for those not fluent in poetry's musical language or its technique. I'd highly recommend it to anyone who is interested in the place of poetry in culture or to anyone who loves to read and/or write great poetry. There are a few bad points to the book,though. Gluck's discussion of some poets is intersting, but the poets themselves are not well known; thus, the reader has no previous contact with them. Also, one of her essays is rather long, repetitious, and boring. Overall, though, the book is an intellectual and satisfying read.

Louise Gluck is a master poet, & it's great to be able to read such a straightforward explanation of her thoughts on some of the art.