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Nightwatch
Book by Dennis Lee
- GenresPoetry
224 pages, Paperback
First published April 1, 1996
1 person is currently reading
7 people want to read
About the author
Dennis Lee
123 books48 followersDennis Beynon Lee, OC, MA is a Canadian poet and thinker who lives in Toronto, Ontario. He is also a children's writer.
After attending high school at the University of Toronto Schools, Lee received bachelor's and master's degrees in English from the University of Toronto. He is best known for his children's writings; his most famous work is the rhymed Alligator Pie (1974). He also wrote the lyrics to the theme song of the 1980s television show Fraggle Rock and, with Philip Balsam, many of the other songs for that show. Balsam and Lee also wrote the songs for the television special The Tale of the Bunny Picnic. Lee is co-writer of the story for the film Labyrinth.
After attending high school at the University of Toronto Schools, Lee received bachelor's and master's degrees in English from the University of Toronto. He is best known for his children's writings; his most famous work is the rhymed Alligator Pie (1974). He also wrote the lyrics to the theme song of the 1980s television show Fraggle Rock and, with Philip Balsam, many of the other songs for that show. Balsam and Lee also wrote the songs for the television special The Tale of the Bunny Picnic. Lee is co-writer of the story for the film Labyrinth.
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Displaying 1 of 1 review
March 7, 2020
Dennis Lee is a poet engaged in the world. An editor, critic, commentator and mentor, his name pops up in the acknowledgements of a diverse group of people who have benefited from his support. His impeccable ethics prevented him from exploiting his wildly successful childrens book
And although there have been courtships from publishers asking Lee to write more and more children’s books, he has resisted an all-out accommodation of their requests. “I realized after Alligator Pie hit big back in 1974, ‘Shoot, I could become a Dennis Lee factory and turn out one of these every year or two.’ But I would have felt pretty mingy doing that.” quote from Quill and Quire
https://quillandquire.com/authors/the...
If he sometimes finds it necessary to isolate (he is a writer after all) he inhabits no ivory tower and his work is immediate and directly engaging. It is easy to imagine him seated in the celebrated square in Toronto, furiously scribbling, surrounded by the sights and smells and sounds of the visible city. But Lee's work it to excavate the modern square, and he digs deep into the cracks that divide us by apathy and culture. His long rambling poems, particularly Civil Elegies and The Death of Howard Ladoo are meditations on the Canadian sensibility in the context of the modern world. Where does all of our grief hide? Can there be meaning outside of context?
It was hard to pick just a few lines to illustrate his style. In the Q&Q interview, "Lee suggests that neither he nor the poem expresses any one view, but rather a variety of shifting and sometimes inconsistent “moods.” In the spirit of earnest whimsy, it seemed appropriate to cobble together a poem entirely in his own words, with page references at the end of each line.
What time of our lives we wait for till we shall start to be? from civil elegies page unclear
I am one for whom the world is constantly proving too much-
the continental drift to barbarian
normalcy frightens me...I cannot get purchase on life p32
small things ignite us, and the quirky particulars
flare on all sides p22
Everything will disappear
nothing belongs to us, and only that nothing is home p25
till smack in the clobber and flux coherence is born p87
for the years come faster now-year by year they come
faster p170 The thing I was hot for, I squandered and
the thing I walked past I now crave. p192
You miss the one you could hardly wait to tell goodbye. p193
We impose the roles that that feed the others hankering
for there are few among us who are competent at being
and few who can let our lovers be p33 There is
no hope that we might come into our own and live
with our claimed selves, at home in the difficult world. p34
And yet-in the middle of one more day p96
clean gestures of meaning among the traffic of earth p98
If I deny the luminous presence
something goes dead at the core.p136
to whom have I belonged if not for you? p200
And although there have been courtships from publishers asking Lee to write more and more children’s books, he has resisted an all-out accommodation of their requests. “I realized after Alligator Pie hit big back in 1974, ‘Shoot, I could become a Dennis Lee factory and turn out one of these every year or two.’ But I would have felt pretty mingy doing that.” quote from Quill and Quire
https://quillandquire.com/authors/the...
If he sometimes finds it necessary to isolate (he is a writer after all) he inhabits no ivory tower and his work is immediate and directly engaging. It is easy to imagine him seated in the celebrated square in Toronto, furiously scribbling, surrounded by the sights and smells and sounds of the visible city. But Lee's work it to excavate the modern square, and he digs deep into the cracks that divide us by apathy and culture. His long rambling poems, particularly Civil Elegies and The Death of Howard Ladoo are meditations on the Canadian sensibility in the context of the modern world. Where does all of our grief hide? Can there be meaning outside of context?
It was hard to pick just a few lines to illustrate his style. In the Q&Q interview, "Lee suggests that neither he nor the poem expresses any one view, but rather a variety of shifting and sometimes inconsistent “moods.” In the spirit of earnest whimsy, it seemed appropriate to cobble together a poem entirely in his own words, with page references at the end of each line.
What time of our lives we wait for till we shall start to be? from civil elegies page unclear
I am one for whom the world is constantly proving too much-
the continental drift to barbarian
normalcy frightens me...I cannot get purchase on life p32
small things ignite us, and the quirky particulars
flare on all sides p22
Everything will disappear
nothing belongs to us, and only that nothing is home p25
till smack in the clobber and flux coherence is born p87
for the years come faster now-year by year they come
faster p170 The thing I was hot for, I squandered and
the thing I walked past I now crave. p192
You miss the one you could hardly wait to tell goodbye. p193
We impose the roles that that feed the others hankering
for there are few among us who are competent at being
and few who can let our lovers be p33 There is
no hope that we might come into our own and live
with our claimed selves, at home in the difficult world. p34
And yet-in the middle of one more day p96
clean gestures of meaning among the traffic of earth p98
If I deny the luminous presence
something goes dead at the core.p136
to whom have I belonged if not for you? p200
Displaying 1 of 1 review