William Carlos Williams was an American poet closely associated with modernism and Imagism. He was also a pediatrician and general practitioner of medicine. Williams "worked harder at being a writer than he did at being a physician," wrote biographer Linda Wagner-Martin. During his long lifetime, Williams excelled both as a poet and a physician.
Although his primary occupation was as a doctor, Williams had a full literary career. His work consists of short stories, poems, plays, novels, critical essays, an autobiography, translations, and correspondence. He wrote at night and spent weekends in New York City with friends—writers and artists like the avant-garde painters Marcel Duchamp and Francis Picabia and the poets Wallace Stevens and Marianne Moore. He became involved in the Imagist movement but soon he began to develop opinions that differed from those of his poetic peers, Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot. Later in his life, Williams toured the United States giving poetry readings and lectures.
In May 1963, he was posthumously awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Pictures from Brueghel and Other Poems (1962) and the Gold Medal for Poetry of the National Institute of Arts and Letters. The Poetry Society of America continues to honor William Carlos Williams by presenting an annual award in his name for the best book of poetry published by a small, non-profit or university press.
Williams' house in Rutherford is now on the National Register of Historic Places. He was inducted into the New Jersey Hall of Fame in 2009.
Midway through reading this volume, I started to read the poems as the first light of day made the titles of the poem visible. For Emily Dickinson this wouldn't have been interesting as she didn't use titles but for Williams this was a thrilling exercise.
The titles are printed in bold, large type and I would read the title minutes before I could make out the text. This gave me time to consume the title and get ready for the poem and to remind myself that like the day itself, these poems were generous gifts from strangers. Glorious people, their lives unknown, who open themselves up to intimacy and share it with their readers.
The volume opens to Williams introduction which situates the reader during the last years of World War Two. I feel in his words the ration coupons, the soldiers at the home front, the oppressive tension of wanting the damn thing done. I was glad though that most of these poems were written after the war and that they concern so much of nature; flowers, lions and birds.
This is a volume I could read and reread with much profit and pleasure. I will single out three poems of note. 'Incognito' which I think is to praise to recently passed Ford Maddox Ford. There is the doctor's dispassion of the lines, "like a Maori, those who slash their faces with knives, carving new lips, a nose dismembered." '3 A.M The Girl with the Honey Colored Hair' which suggests and fails to do justice to the chill of it's final line. "The Horse Show" is delicately balanced between life, death, lucidity and the wisdom of the aged which too often we can't absorb and so we label it dementia.