The first poem in Michael Collier's fourth collection, The Ledge, suggests a difference between youthful readers and mature ones. The young read more quickly, as though they'll be asked to recount the plot highlights. Older readers relish the details, using literature to slide their own lives under the magnifying glass. "Argos" is an excellent prelude, which prepares us for The Ledge's roundabout insights and surprising truths. Collier's poetry often addresses large-scale questions of faith--or at least questions that used to be large-scale and have now been deflated by ironic disbelief. Probably every century since the advent of Christianity has witnessed innumerable mock crucifixions, with girls pretending to hammer a boy onto a cross while he lolls his head "in that familiar / defeated way." In the past, the game might have provoked terror, or empathy, or at least awe at the sheer sinfulness of humans. In our era, however, the boy's penis stiffens comically, "like one of Satan's fingers":
I was dying a savior's death and yet what my sisters called my "thing," struggled against extinction as if its resurrection could not be held off by this playful holy torture. Using such sneaky, colloquial humor, Collier expertly discriminates between the rarefied thoughts we're supposed to have and the ones we actually have. Elsewhere, Collier writes about the emotional burdens that fathers and sons are doomed to place on each other. In "The Hammer," an adult recalls losing his father's treasured hammer, and covering his tracks with a lie that has never fully vanished. "The Choice" finds a child struggling with a similar is it better to dissemble or disappoint? Collier's voice in The Ledge is consistently that of one thoughtful, reasonable father talking to another--and maybe, some years from now, to the son who has finally become a father himself. --John Ponyicsanyi
Michael Robert Collier is an American poet, teacher, creative writing program administrator and editor. He has published five books of original poetry, a translation of Euripedes' Medea, a book of prose pieces about poetry, and has edited three anthologies of poetry. From 2001 to 2004 he was the Poet Laureate of Maryland. As of 2011, he is the director of the Bread Loaf Writers' Conference, a professor of creative writing at the University of Maryland, College Park and the poetry editorial consultant for Houghton Mifflin (now Houghton Mifflin Harcourt).
The Ledge is full of simple scenes that aren't particularly interesting, though they could have been if Collier had made some kind of meaningful commentary on them. Unfortunately, this collection has all the sound, technique, and language of poetry without the heart; that is to say - I felt nothing. There are good stanzas buried here and there, but they are cheapened by all the one dimensional fluff surrounding. I think this collection is poorly curated, the better half being towards the end after the "meh" impression has already been made. I don't think anything from The Ledge will leave a lasting impression for me.
Picked at random in a used bookstore, there are some gems here, including Argos, Cerberus, Long Summer, The Blame, and Keats and Francesca (my favorite by far and the closing poem). Solid poetry, hard to categorize. A couple of ghazal but otherwise no forms, meter, rhyme, or unifying impulses for the most part. Understated and accomplished.
Think "127 Hours" meets "Touching the Void" and you have The Ledge.
Based on a true story about two guys who hiked Mt Ranier one fateful day - the book takes weaves from present to past in a tangible way so that everything before ties into to what happens later. The author was personable - giving insight into what makes "those people" who risk their lives to climb mountains tick... what drives them up the next mountain and what keeps them going even after significant trauma and loss. This book, while nothing new under the general category of mountaineering books, is a story of friendship, of love of nature and a memorium to those who loose their lives doing what they loved best.
Michael Collier taught at UMCP and read some of his poems at my department's graduation. I still remember the one about Odysseus's dog. It's powerful.
Another fun side note: He used one of the poems in this book when he was invited to compete in a poetry slam against some local high school students. It's about the time someone walked in on him naked.