Thirst: Poems (Paperback)

by Mary Oliver (Author)

Editorial Reviews

From Publishers Weekly
Consoling, and intense interaction with the natural world abounds in the 43 poems of Pulitzer Prize–winner Oliver's new collection, as her many readers might expect. The trees whisper, a ribbon snake imparts lessons and the poet is likened to a swimming otter. What has changed, though, is that Oliver's new work reflects her faith in God and her grief over the death of her longtime partner. Those who do not share her brand of faith may or may not find its terms difficult to accept–"Everything is His./ The door. The door jamb"–but the loss of a loved one is more universal: of grief, she writes, "I went closer, / and I did not die." Still, many of these poems mention or court cataclysmic loss while refusing to dwell in it. At times, Oliver's will-to-gratitude can feel like preaching or admonishment; Oliver describes a luna moth with "a pale green wing whose rim is like a musical notation," before adding, "Have you noticed?" The role of danger or evil in this Eden is mostly unacknowledged: "... the things of this world / ... are kind, and maybe// also troubled." (Oct.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved. --This text refers to the Hardcover edition.

From Booklist
Oliver, one of the country's most popular and highly awarded poets, presents her credo at the outset of her newest collection: "My work is loving the world." The poems that follow are what readers expect from Oliver, beautifully tempered lyrics celebrating the splendor of the living world. Oliver has been what Diane Ackerman calls an "earth ecstatic," a contemplative writer who finds joy and wisdom in sustained attentiveness to nature. Spirituality has always been an element in Oliver's work, but as she writes of her grief after losing her longtime companion, her poems gradually become overtly Christian. The result is a candid revelation of a profound sea change navigated in pain and humility and culminating in a very moving declaration of faith. Oliver's signature tropes are as vital as ever--her beloved birds, dogs, snakes, and ocean are all summoned to capture the breathtaking glory of life. But now Oliver pours her wonder and gratitude into directed prayers: "Oh Lord of melons, of mercy, though I am / not ready, nor worthy, I am climbing toward you." Donna Seaman
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved --This text refers to the Hardcover edition.

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Product Details

• Paperback: 88 pages
• Publisher: Beacon Press; 1 edition (September 3, 2007)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 0807068977
• ISBN-13: 978-0807068977
• Product Dimensions: 8.2 x 6.1 x 0.4 inches
• Shipping Weight: 7.2 ounces (View shipping rates and policies)
• Average Customer Review: 4.6 out of 5 stars See all reviews (36 customer reviews)
• Amazon.com Sales Rank: #10,671 in Books (See Bestsellers in Books)

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Customer Reviews

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

66 of 73 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars Faith-Full Poems, October 31, 2006

By	S. West (Raleigh, NC USA) - See all my reviews (REAL NAME)

This review is from: Thirst: Poems (Hardcover)

In the very first line of the very first poem of Mary Oliver's new collection of poetry, entitled Thirst, she says "My work is loving the world" (Messenger). In the very last poem of this slim volume, she says "Love for the earth and love for you are having such a long conversation in my heart" (Thirst). These poems bookend a new affirmation of faith for Oliver: For the first time in her life, at the age of 71, she is writing from an apparent Christian framework, loving the world of marshes, ponds, beaches, bears and dogs and the Creator of all these things she has so long loved.

These are poems that celebrate the world of Creation, that praise the Creator, that walk through grief (Oliver lost her long time partner and agent, Molly Malone Cook, in 1995) into resolute hope, that point beyond nature and grief to the Giver of all. Her love of nature might be seen in the way she addresses it as addressing a good friend, as in "When I Am Among the Trees," where she says

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, "Stay awhile."
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, "It's simple," they say,
"and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine."

There are poems about ribbon snakes, roses, a great moth, otters, Percy (her dog), and that great conversation ("And still I believe you will/ come, Lord: you will, when I speak to the fox,/ the sparrow, the lost dog, the shivering sea goose, know/ that really I am speaking to you" (Making the House Ready for the Lord).

And then there is grief. I loved this one (Percy (Four)), so simple, so true, about doing what need be done as we wait for grief to pass and life to go on, moving faithfully yet mutely through each day:

I went to church.
I walked on the beach
and played with Percy.

I answered the phone
and paid the bills.
I did the laundry.

I spoke her name
a hundred times.

I knelt in the dark
and said some holy words.

I went downstairs,
I watered the flowers,
I fed Percy.

That's it. No emotion here. She just did what needed to be done, including praying, though she was in that state where you seem to have lost all feeling.

In the end though, after the poems of creation and poems of grief, what stand out are the affirmations of faith. In "Coming to God: First Days," she says "Lord, I would run for you, loving the miles for your sake./ I would climb the highest tree/ to be that much closer." In "Six Recognitions of the Lord," she celebrates "everywhere the luminous sprawl of gifts,/ the hospitality of the Lord and my/ inadequate answers as I row my beautiful, temporary body/ through this water-lily world." And, at last, in "Thirst," she writes "Another morning and I wake with thirst/ for the goodness I do not have. I walk/ out to the pond and all the way God has/ given us such beautiful lessons."

Mary Oliver thirsts for God. Some will disagree with her lifestyle (Molly Malone Cook was truly her life partner), but her faith seems real as is her love of the world and her experience of grief. Those are things that must resonate with us, as we are human too.

Most helpful is the accessibility of these poems. Many people will be able to read and enjoy them. The language is simple yet elegant. The "space" in the poems created by their economy is an almost aural testimony to the awe with which she regards the life of the world and, now, the One who made it all.

I highly recommend this book of poetry. It's like walkiong through a room of Monet paintings: there's not much not to love. Use it to stimulate your own love of nature and of nature's God.

29 of 30 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars 5 Stars Squared... or exponentially beyond...., January 7, 2007

By	Julie Jordan Scott "Writer, Life Coach - Owne... (Bakersfield, CA United States) - See all my reviews (TOP 1000 REVIEWER)    (REAL NAME)

This review is from: Thirst: Poems (Hardcover)

I thought to myself, "It must be about time for
Mary Oliver to have released another poetry
collection." and was so pleased to find
_Thirst_ on the shelf.

The moment I opened it I realized this was
going to be even more compelling than
nearly any other poetry I have ever read.

I sat in Barnes and Noble, crying openly,
laughing, smiling and revisiting poems
and phrases and just being amazed at the
transcendence I felt from Ms. Oliver's words.

This is a poetry book I will give to my
"non poetry" friends as well as my poetry
friends.

It is about the sacredness of life itself, it
is about love - never ending. It is about
coming to understand wholeness.

And so much more. It is difficult to express
with words how impactful this book is upon
my soul. As one reviewer said below, five stars
are not enough.

10 of 10 people found the following review helpful:

5.0 out of 5 stars How Grief Edges Joy, January 7, 2008

By	Zinta Aistars "Writer & Editor" (Portage, MI United States) - See all my reviews (TOP 1000 REVIEWER)

Live long enough, live deep enough, and you will find, as Mary Oliver does in these 43 poems collected in "Thirst," that all grief edges joy, all joy is edged by grief. It is only in a deep and courageous immersion into life, and perhaps also that place beyond life, that one can fully experience this wonder, a kind of yin and yang, the light beside the shadow, phenomenon that is living with thirst, quenched or unquenched.

There is nothing pretentious about Oliver's poetry. She is simplicity and purity itself. Thirst is how she approaches living, and now dying - in her expression of grief for the loss of her longtime life partner. This does not change how she approaches living, only intensifies it. "My work is loving the world," she writes in her opening poem, "Messenger." She observes the world, then observes herself in it, part and parcel. "Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums./Here the clam deep in the speckled sand./Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?/Am I no longer young, and still not half-perfect? Let me/keep my mind on what matters,/which is my work,/which is mostly standing still and learning to be/astonished."

Much of this collection is Oliver's conversation with God having a conversation with her. Their dialogue is filtered by nature, where everyplace is a place of worship and every living thing ministering to her and she reciprocating. Her dogs speak of unconditional love and simple acceptance, an exchanged gaze with a snake is looking into the eyes of divinity (and not the darker side). Praying can be done through the weeds in a vacant lot. The words do not have to be elaborate, Oliver writes, "but a doorway/into thanks, and a silence in which/another voice may speak." This same sentiment is echoed with utmost simplicity in the poem, "The Uses of Sorrow" - that a box full of darkness given to her by another can also be a gift, a richer blessing.

When you think you cannot go closer, or dive deeper, or come up into brighter light, as Oliver writes in her poetry - you can. Just when you think Oliver cannot elicit more beauty out of the everyday word - she does. We thirst for more.