Amazon.com Review
Gerald Stern is often compared to Walt Whitman, and his verse does possess a similar oracular urgency. Yet his lines are shorter and more digestible to the modern ear, and his emotional sensibility is more likely to search for analogies in wildlife--maple trees and blue jays in Iowa backyards, spiders on New Jersey bridges--than in Whitman's worlds of labor and war.
Stern was 48 years old when his first collection, Rejoicings, appeared in 1973. A quarter century later, he has selected his finest work for This Time. Immediately one notices a consistency of style and concern. Indeed, one of his earliest poems, "When I Have Reached the Point of Suffocation," foreshadows his major themes of desolation and survival:
It takes years to learn how to look at the destruction
of beautiful things; to learn how to leave the place
of oppression;
and how to make your own regeneration
out of nothing.
In his most moving poems, Stern witnesses this destruction of beauty and learns or resolves or forgets to take it on the chin. Many embody glimpses of delight made all the more poignant by their brief duration, the "one minute / to study the drops of silver hanging in the sun / before you turn the corner past the gatehouse." And though they focus intensely on their literal subjects, their scope expands to encompass what has been lost in this century--not just people and places, but an attainable sense of peace and solitude.
--Edward Skoog
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
From Publishers Weekly
At once self-involved and sympathetic, Stern catalogues with wry dexterity a vast range of sensory data and cultural detritus, always united by "women and men of all sizes and all ages/ living together, without satire." This healthy collection of new poems and selections from his seven previous volumes (Odd Mercy, etc.) is remarkable for its generosity of spirit, manifested in a warm surrealism that is often turned with humor toward his own past ("My great specialty was darkness then/ and radiant sexual energy") as a way of understanding the recurrent questions of growing old: "Why did it take so long/ for me to get lenient? What does it mean one life/ only?" The greatest joy here lies in the excellence of Stern's longer sentences, which recall Whitman in their life-like pulse and flow, in their subtle verbal patternings that submerge rhetorical artifice beneath the breath of actual speech. Stern's closing assessment of his poem "Your Animal" is indicative of the ethics of the volume as a whole: "It is my poem against the starving heart./ It is my victory over meanness." When the poet warns, "Nothing is too small for my sarcasm," the counsel is a false snare; irony is not sarcasm, and it is Stern's ironic voice that allows for "some understanding, some surcease,/ some permanence" without lapsing into lyric sentimentality.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.