Customer Reviews

The Queen's Desertion: Poems

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

 

 

Library Journal
Frost's tenth collection of verse (after I Will Say Beauty) moves from a cold northern landscape of apiaries and dying bees into a lush tropical zone of "pigfish pinfish herring sheepshead silverside." The first section, "The Queen's Desertion," is about loss and grief. Dead bees fall, and sometimes the queen dies: "her earlier German tongue-rhyming, Schiller lines./ Where were you? I'll ask. Wer bist du? she'll say, winter in voices, drifting,/ snow drift, freezing, the bees dropping/ to the hard pan inner darkness... O mother...." Frost recalls Elizabeth Bishop on loss: "Is it so terrible to outlive the mind?/ Forget this, forget that-keys, glasses/ what it was you just said, what you meant to say." A transitional section, "The Body Has Two Seasons," describes the difficult journey of Spanish explorer Cabeza de Vaca. In the third section, "Voyage to Black Point," Frost's language takes on the colors of Florida. Bees return, engrossed in orchids, fishes are caught-including one like Bishop's-and a shrimp boat run aground frees itself while leaving a mark at low tide: "heaven and hell have no memory/ nor message nor direction beyond/ this human mark fast disappearing." Stark, complex, and beautiful, this is highly recommended for most poetry collections.-

It may take awhile, but eventually this writer will be recognized as one of the finest of our time. Garth Greenwell, writing in Boston Review, understands: "Frost remains a poet too little discussed and far too little celebrated, but for many readers who know her mature work she is indispensable. The publication of The Queen's Desertion marks 30 years since the appearance of her first book, and one reads the new work with the excitement of watching a competent poet become an excellent one."

Carol Frost's "The Queen's Desertion" is exactly as a previous reviewer described. She does come across as entitled and elitist. Her poetry is the same hobbyist fare that you can find anywhere, however she has polished her uninspired journalings and reminiscences in such a way that she generally has her basic imagery down... but it is imagery without any amount of genius. This is an individual with literary and scholastic connections who is merely exploring her (not so) creative side.

This poet was mentioned to me in a conversation. I hadn't been familiar with her before. Reading it, I thought- The author sounds deeply angry. Not in a literary pain sort of way, in an uncomfortable pair of shoes sort of way.

I picked up this book after hearing about the poet from a friend. It wasn't at all what I expected. The author came across as entitled and elitist.