From several thousand letters, written over fifty years - from 1928, when she was seventeen, to the day of her death, in Boston in 1979 - Robert Giroux has selected over five hundred and has written a detailed and informative introduction. One Art takes us behind Bishop's formal sophistication and reserve, displaying to the full the gift for friendship, the striving for perfection, and the passionate, questing, rigorous spirit that made her a great poet.
Elizabeth Bishop was an American poet and writer from Worcester, Massachusetts. She was the Poet Laureate of the United States from 1949 to 1950, a Pulitzer Prize winner in 1956. and a National Book Award Winner for Poetry in 1970. She is considered one of the most important and distinguished American poets of the 20th century.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident the art of losing’s not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
This is one of those books that brings out the compulsive side of me. I read every letter--even the most mundane, and there were many of those: doctor's visits, housekeeping, etc. Since Bishop is among my favorite poets, I was compelled to read everything, not wanting to miss a shred of her life story. The letters work like puzzles; we have only Bishop's, so we have to piece together what she's responding to. That's partly what's so interesting. As with any real person, though, there are sides of her we don't particularly like to see, including racist, elitist attitudes. I was reminded of that saying about heroes--sometimes it's better not to meet them. Overall, though, this comprehensive account is worthy for that idea, exactly: here is Bishop's character, well-developed, rounded, whom we like and dislike at times, and whose loves and losses matter.
Three months, 541 letters, and 639 pages later — EB was terrified of reading in front of a crowd, loved cats, and had a ping-pong table in her dining room. She wrote to her friends about everything from flowers and books to architecture and her pet toucan Sammy. During a visit to St. John’s in 1932 she wrote: “The streets and houses all fall down toward the water — apparently supported on the masts of the sealers and schooners below.” I’ll miss reading these letters before bed — I think I’ll keep it on my bedside table just in case.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn’t hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.
—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan’t have lied. It’s evident the art of losing’s not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
Elizabeth Bishop's young adult poem, One Art, Bishop uses symbolism to beautifully discuss the theme of loss and the way in which individuals can recognize and build from them. I personally enjoyed this poem and the meaning I took away from it may be different than how others interpret it. This is one of the beauties in poetry and literature is the reality that it can be analyzed and interpreted in entirely new ways based on how it is written and One Art is certainly one of these poems.
I have always enjoyed EB's poems, particularly for their cool objectivity, their calm impersonality, and their resistance to the confessional style. EB's letters provide a rare glimpse of her struggles with health and loneliness, her tender passions with Lota, and how she coped with Lota's illness and death.
The author suggests that losing may look like a disaster and bring feelings of remorse or sadness, but ultimately all things get lost and are able to be overcome, through repeating words but changing its underlying meaning. There is a gradual increase in loss in our lives which may feel harder and harder to overcome, but ultimately, the author says that even the hardest losses can be overcome.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
On a personal level, I feel that Bishop's poem allows for great understanding and an opportunity to gain insight into complexity. Specifically, Bishop uses unreliable narration to hint at the art of losing being "hard to master," contradicting the narrative the storyteller is trying to tell in the poem.
One Art shows a series of losses, from small everyday things to deeply personal ones, as the speaker tries to frame loss as something controllable. Despite claiming that “the art of losing isn’t hard to master,” the poem actually shows how fragile that belief is, which shows the speaker is failing to convince herself.
One Art: Letters of Elizabeth Bishop shows that even someone known for control and precision in poetry was constantly uncertain and vulnerable in real life. The letters make her feel less like a distant literary figure and more like someone figuring things out in real time, which makes her work hit harder.
I noticed that Bishop uses a repetitive "art of losing" refrain to make loss seem like a minor, daily habit. As the poem moves from lost keys to lost people, that casual tone completely falls apart. The final line shows that she’s actually struggling to handle the grief. It proves that no matter how much you practice, some losses never get easier.
3.5 stars I only read "One Art", a poem about losing things. You start off small and build up and these things don't matter "the art of losing’s not too hard to master". Although, they do matter and especially losing people, it can be a disaster. Short but clever poem.
Bishop’s letters show that her "art of losing" was actually just a cover-up for the fact that she was struggling to move on. The real "art" she practiced wasn't getting over her losses, but using her writing to hide how much they actually hurt her.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I really liked this poem because it talks about how loss is inevitable, and the faster you get used to it, the more you will get used to it. It discusses a deep topic through irony and repetition, which was really impressive.
This poem repeatedly asserts that losing objects, relationships, and loved ones is not a huge deal, despite not appearing fully convinced of it themselves. It compares losing to an art, satirically illustrating that one loses more as they get increasingly used to it.
My hot take is that the letters make Bishop feel a lot more human and uncertain than her polished poetry suggests. Seeing her doubts and everyday thoughts changed how I view her work, it feels less distant and more personal now.
What I liked best was her telling of all the poets collected letters she read and then toward the end she advised a would be poet to do that to learn, somewhat, how to write poetry.
One Art feels like someone trying to stay calm while secretly falling apart. Elizabeth Bishop keeps saying loss is “no disaster,” but the more she repeats it, the less true it sounds.
“One Art” is basically a masterclass in emotional self-gaslighting. The speaker keeps insisting loss is “no disaster,” but the repetition only exposes how badly they’re lying to themselves.
Elizabeth Bishop’s One Art pretends to be about mastering loss, but it actually exposes how impossible that mastery is. The villanelle’s strict, repetitive form feels less like control and more like someone desperately trying to convince themselves they’re fine. By the end, the poem quietly admits that loss isn’t an art you can learn, it’s something that inevitably breaks through performance.