Thomas Lux
Born
in Northampton, Massachusetts, The United States
December 10, 1946
Died
February 05, 2017
Website
Genre
|
New and Selected Poems, 1975-1995
—
published
1997
—
8 editions
|
|
|
The Street Of Clocks: Poems
—
published
2001
—
9 editions
|
|
|
God Particles: Poems
—
published
2008
—
10 editions
|
|
|
The Cradle Place: Poems
—
published
2004
—
9 editions
|
|
|
To The Left Of Time
—
published
2016
—
4 editions
|
|
|
Split Horizon: Poems
—
published
1994
—
5 editions
|
|
|
Child Made Of Sand: Poems
—
published
2012
—
5 editions
|
|
|
The Drowned River
—
published
1990
—
4 editions
|
|
|
Sunday: Poems
—
published
1979
—
4 editions
|
|
|
Half Promised Land
—
published
1986
—
5 editions
|
|
“THE VOICE YOU HEAR WHEN YOU READ SILENTLY
is not silent, it is a speaking-
out-loud voice in your head; it is *spoken*,
a voice is *saying* it
as you read. It's the writer's words,
of course, in a literary sense
his or her "voice" but the sound
of that voice is the sound of *your* voice.
Not the sound your friends know
or the sound of a tape played back
but your voice
caught in the dark cathedral
of your skull, your voice heard
by an internal ear informed by internal abstracts
and what you know by feeling,
having felt. It is your voice
saying, for example, the word "barn"
that the writer wrote
but the "barn" you say
is a barn you know or knew. The voice
in your head, speaking as you read,
never says anything neutrally- some people
hated the barn they knew,
some people love the barn they know
so you hear the word loaded
and a sensory constellation
is lit: horse-gnawed stalls,
hayloft, black heat tape wrapping
a water pipe, a slippery
spilled *chirr* of oats from a split sack,
the bony, filthy haunches of cows...
And "barn" is only a noun- no verb
or subject has entered into the sentence yet!
The voice you hear when you read to yourself
is the clearest voice: you speak it
speaking to you.
~~-Thomas Lux
”
―
is not silent, it is a speaking-
out-loud voice in your head; it is *spoken*,
a voice is *saying* it
as you read. It's the writer's words,
of course, in a literary sense
his or her "voice" but the sound
of that voice is the sound of *your* voice.
Not the sound your friends know
or the sound of a tape played back
but your voice
caught in the dark cathedral
of your skull, your voice heard
by an internal ear informed by internal abstracts
and what you know by feeling,
having felt. It is your voice
saying, for example, the word "barn"
that the writer wrote
but the "barn" you say
is a barn you know or knew. The voice
in your head, speaking as you read,
never says anything neutrally- some people
hated the barn they knew,
some people love the barn they know
so you hear the word loaded
and a sensory constellation
is lit: horse-gnawed stalls,
hayloft, black heat tape wrapping
a water pipe, a slippery
spilled *chirr* of oats from a split sack,
the bony, filthy haunches of cows...
And "barn" is only a noun- no verb
or subject has entered into the sentence yet!
The voice you hear when you read to yourself
is the clearest voice: you speak it
speaking to you.
~~-Thomas Lux
”
―
“The voice you hear when you read to yourself
is the clearest voice: you speak it
speaking to you.”
―
is the clearest voice: you speak it
speaking to you.”
―
Topics Mentioning This Author
| topics | posts | views | last activity | |
|---|---|---|---|---|
Language & Grammar :
Word Associations
|
35842 | 1815 | Jun 12, 2013 10:18AM | |
| Goodreads Librari...: Combine author profiles, Update bio & More | 3457 | 822 | Oct 06, 2025 07:44AM |























