Millions of Strange Shadows

by Anthony Hecht

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Genres: Poetry

75 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1977

Reviews

[Alok Ghimire · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of the greatest poetry collections I have read. Hecht has seemingly left behind some of his demons since Hard Hours but here they are refined - they appear in the sleek jelly of a swimming pool, in a stanza obviously drawn out to extract an effect of soporific beauty in the next stanza and in direct, brute confrontations with God. Exceptionally masterful; so much formal control.

[Karen Rezkalla · Rating 4 out of 5]

I loved this! I’m surprised this isn’t more read or having as much attention because they were thoroughly enjoyable. Loved many poems in the collection my most favorite though was Poem Upon The Lisbon. It’s a great mastery of language, form, and prayer like yet so lyrical. I loved the Greek mythology, Shakespeare, and Bible allusions three of my most favorite archetypes.

Also sonnet 53 is one of my favorite Shakespeare poem so having this collection dedicated to its theme was very lovely.

Also also I love LOVE how he plays with form! It’s so fascinating to read I truly don’t know how this work is not talked about more!!!

[Jacob Moose]

"Something is happening. Some consternation.
Are the knives out? Is someone’s life in danger?
And can the magic cloak and book protect?
One has, of course, real confidence in Shakespeare.
And I relax in my plush seat, convinced
That prompt as dawn and genuine as a toothache
The dream will be accomplished, provisionally true
As anything else one cares to think about.
The players are aghast. Can it be the villain,
The outrageous drunks, plotting the coup d’état,
Are slyer than we thought? Or we more innocent?
Can it be that poems lie? As in a dream,
Leaving a stunned and gap-mouthed Ferdinand,
Father and faery pageant, she, even she,
Miraculous Miranda, steps from the stage,
Moves up the aisle to my seat, where she stops,
Smiles gently, seriously, and takes my hand
And leads me out of the theatre, into a night
As luminous as noon, more deeply real,
Simply because of her hand, than any dream
Shakespeare or I or anyone ever dreamed."

[Rebe · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sometimes I think I would never have gotten into poetry if I lived in the days before free verse. Rhyming successfully (AKA so it doesn't sound forced) is terribly difficult, and so I tend to avoid rhymed poems. That's not to say there aren't some great rhymed poems out there. There are. But the majority of poems I like are free verse.
The poems in Hecht's Millions of Strange Shadows are almost all rhymed (not that you can tell that from the lines I typed out below...). I commend him on rhyming so naturally that when I first took the book from the shelf and flipped through it, I didn't notice the rhymes. That's how I came to read a whole book of rhymed poetry. I'm glad I did. Hecht's not one of my favorite poets, but he does have his moments. By way of recommending this book, here are some of my favorite lines:

"The clouds are scrolled, bellied in apricot,
adrift in pools of Scandinavian blue.
Light crisps the terraces of dolomite."
*
"...as if all history were deciduous..."
*
"Stiff among misty washes,
the trees are as black as wicks..."
*
"A casual, leafy sprawl
of floated lights, of waverings, these are
swags of mimosan gentleness..."
*
"...some herbal dream, some chlorophyll sublime..."

Also, kudos to the poet for such a neat book title.

[Holly · Rating 4 out of 5]

Better than Hard Hours.