Margaret Atwood was born in 1939 in Ottawa and grew up in northern Ontario, Quebec, and Toronto. She received her undergraduate degree from Victoria College at the University of Toronto and her master's degree from Radcliffe College.
Throughout her writing career, Margaret Atwood has received numerous awards and honourary degrees. She is the author of more than thirty-five volumes of poetry, children’s literature, fiction, and non-fiction and is perhaps best known for her novels, which include The Edible Woman (1970), The Handmaid's Tale (1983), The Robber Bride (1994), Alias Grace (1996), and The Blind Assassin, which won the prestigious Booker Prize in 2000. Atwood's dystopic novel, Oryx and Crake, was published in 2003. The Tent (mini-fictions) and Moral Disorder (short stories) both appeared in 2006. Her most recent volume of poetry, The Door, was published in 2007. Her non-fiction book, Payback: Debt and the Shadow Side of Wealth in the Massey series, appeared in 2008, and her most recent novel, The Year of the Flood, in the autumn of 2009. Ms. Atwood's work has been published in more than forty languages, including Farsi, Japanese, Turkish, Finnish, Korean, Icelandic and Estonian. In 2004 she co-invented the Long Pen TM.
Margaret Atwood currently lives in Toronto with writer Graeme Gibson.
Associations: Margaret Atwood was President of the Writers' Union of Canada from May 1981 to May 1982, and was President of International P.E.N., Canadian Centre (English Speaking) from 1984-1986. She and Graeme Gibson are the Joint Honourary Presidents of the Rare Bird Society within BirdLife International. Ms. Atwood is also a current Vice-President of PEN International.
First read: June 28, 2012 Second Read: July 24, 2019, Wednesday
I keep forgetting that Margaret Atwood is a breathtaking poet. I last read this book seven years ago, and was blown away again and again, rediscovering the incredible ways she explores her subject.
Three exceptional poems:
"I was reading a scientific article"
They have photographed the brain and here is the picture, it is full of branches as I always suspected,
each time you arrive the electricity of seeing you is a huge tree lumbering through my skull, the roots waving.
It is an earth, its fibres wrap things buried, your forgotten words are graved in my head, an intricate
red blue and pink prehensile chemistry veined like a leaf network, or is it a seascape with corals and shining tentacles.
I touch you, I am created in you somewhere as a complex filament of light
You rest on me and my shoulder holds
your heavy unbelievable skull, crowded with radiant suns, a new planet, the people submerged in you, a lost civilization I can never excavate:
my hands trace the contours of a total universe, its different colours, flowers, its undiscovered animals, violent or serene
its other air its claws
its paradise rivers
"Axiom"
Axiom: you are a sea. Your eye- lids curve over chaos
My hands where they touch you, create small inhabited islands
Soon you will be all earth: a known land, a country.
"Provisions"
What should we have taken with us? We never could decide on that; or what to wear, or at what time of year we should make this journey
so here we are, in thin raincoats and rubber boots
on the disastrous ice, the wind rising,
nothing in our pockets
but a pencil stub, two oranges four toronto streetcar tickets
and an elastic band, holding a bundle of small white filing-cards printed with important facts.
First read: June 28, 2012
Atwood's second* volume of poetry and, to my mind, her greatest.
*third, fourth, FIFTH (kidding) -- Some of us can't afford expensive, limited edition collections of poetry!
Favourite poems: it is dangerous to read newspapers, the giant green murder, more and more, i was reading a scientific article, a pursuit, after i fell apart and roominghouse, winter.
Honourable mentions: progressive insanities of a pioneer, the landlady and part of a day.
Although poetry is not always my favourite genre, I was lucky to find this 1968 first edition at a book sale, marked down from 2.75 to just a dollar (and with the original receipt tucked inside noting 2.95 from a bookseller on Bloor Street). If only I could get it signed…
Ikke den lettest tilgjengelige diktsamlingen fra Atwood dette. Ikke noe å si på språket som vanlig, men jeg mangler en rød tråd. Canada står i sentrum, men særlig bedre knagg finner jeg ikke. Grei nok. Kunne tenkt meg en minus bak tre'ern..
So far I'm not as a big of a fan of her poetry as I am her novels but that's not to say that I disliked the poems collected in The Animals in that Country; I found a few of the themes to almost resonate with Oryx and Crake in the latter poems,
I rarely read poetry, but I did like a few of these - The animals in that country, It is dangerous to read newspapers, Chronology, The reincarnation of Captain Cook, I was reading a scientific article - they all feel quite current despite being over 50 years old.
i liked a foundling, part of a day, notes from various pasts, a pursuit, i was reading a scientific article, what happened, and more and more. everything else kinda pissed me off
fav: “your pain / caught up with me / only a week ago through / the ends of my fingers … no wires tender even as nerves / can transmit the impact of / our seasons, our catastrophes / while we are closed inside them.” (what happened)
The first poem in the book, Provisions, hit me like a truck. I read it several times. What a statement of reality.
Having recently read Atwood's memoir, I recognize the confusion in her life during the time she wrote these poems. There is frequent imagery of mazes, of feeling lost. Of confusion, and trying to sort out a reality. She is grasping with both hands trying to hold on.
Other favorites were What Happened and Roominghouse, Winter.
The language here is elegant, and this is incredibly well-constructed poetry--though for whatever reason it just didn't speak to me the same as her prose.
“no wires tender even as nerves can transmit the impact of our seasons, our catastrophes while we are closed inside them.”
this was a great classic collection of poetry from atwood. i love atwood as an author and this was my first foray into her poetry and it is as touching and sneakily profound as any of the books i have read by her. atwood is so good at imparting an impact despite her use of common speak and mundane aspects of life.
This is one of those Atwoods I read in the summer of '99 and thought was good, although maybe it doesn't dive as deep as some of her other works. This book starts to delve into the subjects she would find interesting later--power imbalances between men and women, eco-consciousness, and political/humanitarian problems.
I read this when I was young (as it's in my mom's bookcase), I still remember "Every time I hit the keys/on my electric typewriter/another village explodes."
Now that's great poetry, right up there with "I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each/I do not think that they will sing to me."
A lighter (perhaps less complex?) collection of Atwood poetry, less about people and relationships and more about nature. I thought I was connecting less with this, yet in the end was left feeling quite deliciously satisfied.
Doesn't read like poetry from 40+ years ago. The seedlings for Onyx and Cake are evident in the title piece, "Speeches for Dr. Frankenstein" and "Elegy for giant tortoises" among others.
Not as strong as some of her later collections, but I still enjoyed it. I am totally into reading Atwood's early work (particularly the poetry) and seeing the seeds of her later work.