Elizabeth Bishop dedicated her poetry to telling “what really happened.” Yet what really happened in the life on one of the twentieth century's finest and most beloved American poets has eluded readers for years. In this first full biography, Brett Miller pieces together the compelling and painful story of Bishop's life and traces the writing of her brilliantly crafted poems.
Brett Candlish Millier is the Reginald L. Cook Professor of American Literature at Middlebury College. She is the author of Elizabeth Bishop: Life and the Memory of It, and Flawed Light: American Women Poets and Alcohol. She is also associate editor of The Columbia History of American Poetry.
A very enjoyable biography of one of my favorite poets. Millier's writing is wonderful and, even though Bishop lived a pretty dull life, consisting of visiting people, getting blind drunk, writing amazing poetry very slowly, feeling guilty, and having asthma attacks, the book itself is never dull or plodding. It's got a great quick pace.
This book provides a different perspective on Bishop's poetry than reading the poems alone. She was depressed, lonely and guilty for much of her life. One great feature of this biography is that the poems are interwoven into the narrative.
The central mystery of Elizabeth Bishop's life (as opposed to her poetry, which is more complex) is how somebody who is a depressive, a terrible alcoholic, kinda racist and frequently sick could have so many devoted friends. She was friends with and had ongoing letter-writing relationships with intellectuals and writers -- hundreds of them over her lifetime. Robert Lowell, Marianne Moore, John Ashbery, John Berryman, etc. Even though she thought herself to be a piece of shit, she must have been a fun lady to be around. Everyone was always inviting her to stay at their pad. (And that was part of her problem. She never truly had a pad she thought of as her own.)
A really terrific biography of my favorite poet. Not only is it tremendously detailed, but the readings of the poems are thorough, astute, incisive and sensitive. And to think that the newer biography, Miracle for Breakfast, is supposed to be so much better. I can hardly wait. As Bishop dictated her wish for her tombstone inscription, one can say almost the same for her life story as it is given to us here: "Awful, but cheerful." This was a very emotional read for me. Bishop is in some fundamental ways unknowable, as is her poetry, and this is as it should be, but to know more about her unknowability through this wonderful biography has been a rare treat.
Picked up on a whim at a library sale, I devoured Millier's biography of Bishop as fast as I could. She handles the continual chaos of Bishop's life - the constant travel, the multiple homes, the lovers, the alcohol and depression, the illnesses and accidents, the endless friendships and occasional spats - with such ease, always placing the poetry (and Bishop's struggle to write poetry) in the context of Bishop's life and experiences.
Bishop's life had such highs and so, so many lows that is seems amazing that she was not one of the poets of her generation who committed suicide, like John Berryman or Anne Sexton. Even though she hated confessional poetry and argued at length with her long-time friend and possible lover Robert Lowell over the increasing level of deeply personal (and marriage-wrecking) revelations in his poems, I feel much more prepared to reread Bishop's poetry now having read this biography. Bishop was a slow writer, stifled by blockages of every sort, that kept her working on poems for as long as twenty years. Millier walks the reader through multiple drafts of several of Bishop's poems (sometimes 18 or 19 drafts), talking us through the way Bishop's language, tone, and thinking evolves between each draft. It's a good reminder of how every word in a Bishop poem must be considered from multiple angles.
"Of course it was the birds going South. They were high up, a fairly large sort of bird, I couldn't tell what, but almost speck-like, paying no attention to even the highest trees or steeples. They spread across a wide swath of sky, each rather alone, and at first their wings seemed all to be beating perfectly together. But by watching one bird, then another, I saw that some flew a little slower than others, some were trying to get ahead and some flew at an individual rubato; each seemed a variation, and yet altogether my eyes were deceived into thinking them perfectly precise and regular. I watched closely the spaces between the birds. It was as if there were an invisible thread joining all the outside birds and within this fragile net-work they possessed the sky; it was down among them, of a paler color, moving with them. The interspaces moved in pulsation too, catching up and continuing the motion of the wings in wakes, carrying it on, as the rest in music does --- not a blankness but a space as musical as all the sound."
Terrific biography of a terrific poet. Biographies usually leave me feeling clammy and soiled, and this one is not much different...poets seem singularly miserable to me. Maybe everybody is. Anyway, good book. Read the poems too.
I never got turned toward Elizabeth Bishop until I went to see the Dear Elizabeth play at the Berkeley Rep last week. It was very well done! By Sarah Ruhl, and a s***load of water hits the stage more than once, yet no one in the audience got wet!
The biography has a completely different tone than the play. The play tarted up a potential romantic but star-crossed love between Bishop and Robert Lowell.
The biography was dark, telling the sad and desperate story of the parentless, asthmatic, alcoholic lesbian, who paired up with women who either really fell apart, or were perceived to by Bishop. Bishop's mother landed in a mental hospital quite early. And so...
I certainly don't regret reading the book, and I kept waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel. I guess it came in glimpses as it does in life. No grand revelation of gratitude, but moments of joy punctuating stretches of despair.
Remedial reading for me regarding this well-known poet. Bishop, despite many difficulties beginning with the death of her father and her mother being institutionalized, wrote her whole life of her restless travels, mostly along the coasts of Nova Scotia, Florida, Brazil and New England. In a generation of poets wracked with mental illness, alcoholism and suicide, she had her share of these troubles, but left some truly marvelous poems. The book is very well written and correlations between the poems and the life are made.
Bishop is attractive to me in that she was always trying, despite often failing, to put a good face on her life. She seems to have been reticent and desperately wanting to be a good person. Her observant habits and her absolute honesty, as well as refusing to publish anything that wasn't yet right, have kept her place high among American poets.
I loved this book. This is an incredible work of bringing together the poetry of Bishop with her letters and life experiences in Brazil and the U.S. As a poet myself, I am awed by Bishop's "eye," her ability to see things fresh always. In this book, the reader is able to follow Bishop in her development of poems over 20 or more years--even for a single poem!
Well researched and well written critical biography, with sensitive reading of the poems; Millier also offers a broader literary history through her portrayal of the changing commitments and practices of twentieth century poetry. Beautifully designed too, by Univ. of California press--on good paper, with elegant design and handsome font.