The author's first book of new poetry published in the United States since the 1960s explores the limits of abstract, minimalist, and experimental concrete poetry.
Robert Lax (30 November, 1915 in Olean, New York – 26 September, 2000 in Olean) was an American poet, known in particular for his association with Trappist monk and writer Thomas Merton. Another friend of his youth was the painter Ad Reinhardt. After a long period of drifting from job to job about the world, Lax settled on the island of Patmos during the latter part of his life. Considered by some to be a self-exiled hermit, he nonetheless welcomed visitors to his home, but did nothing to court publicity or expand his literary career or reputation.
Interesting poetry arranged in mostly vertical columns. It was calming. The words are read slowly since many of the words are cut or in a single line, and, in the introduction, this seemed to be the point: that each point is reflected on in near silence. It's almost meditative. Some of the poems were abstract and hard to understand; others, I believe, weren't meant to be understood. Some just were about routine, as Robert Lax would walk on the Greek island he called home. I thought of the island he lived on while reading this and thought of all the silence he had lived for many years, like a monk who lives alone and is introspective. Yet Lax had lived an uncommon life and got away from the world, I suppose, to find himself and some peace.
Robert Lax is one of the best poets of the 20th century, but no one knows about him. He chose a life of quiet solitude on the island of Patmos. Lax was a long time friend of Thomas Merton. He was content writing and creating, but did not try to promote or enlarge his career as a writer. If you like this book, check out his Circus of the Sun.