So Forth

by Joseph Brodsky

A collection of poems in English by Joseph Brodsky, the supremely accomplished Russian poet who stood up to the repression of his native land and then constructed a whole new literary life and a huge reputation while in exile in the United States. Already established as a great Russian poet, Brodsky astonishingly achieved the equivalent in his adoptive language. Most of the poems in So Forth were written during the 10 years before his death, and while many exhibit his newly Americanized tongue, some revel in the mysterious accents that characterized his Russian works.

Genres: Poetry, Russian Literature, Nobel Prize, Russia, Classics

Hardcover

First published January 1, 1996

About the author

Joseph Brodsky (Russian: Иосиф Бродский] was a Russian-American poet and essayist. Born in Leningrad in 1940, Brodsky ran afoul of Soviet authorities and was expelled from the Soviet Union in 1972, settling in America with the help of W. H. Auden and other supporters. He taught thereafter at several universities, including Yale, Columbia, and Mount Holyoke. Brodsky was awarded the 1987 Nobel Prize in Literature "for an all-embracing authorship, imbued with clarity of thought and poetic intensity." A journalist asked him: "You are an American citizen who is receiving the Prize for Russian-language poetry. Who are you, an American or a Russian?" Brodsky replied: "I'm Jewish; a Russian poet, an English essayist – and, of course, an American citizen." He was appointed United States Poet Laureate in 1991.

Reviews

[Samir Rawas Sarayji · Rating 3 out of 5]

This collection is witty and clever. There’s no discerning theme, which is not necessarily a bad thing, but given that there’s also no clear tone, it seems like a bit of a mish mash. There’s no doubt that Brodsky is a wordsmith, and that some of these poems were originally written by his adopted language - English - and others translated by him from Russian. Most poems try too hard to combine wittiness, cleverness, and sound craftsmanship, unfortunately at the expense of emotional resonance. I connected with only a handful of poems as a result. The rest were entertaining or uninteresting.

On a side note: if some of the lines that snuck through are any indication of his personality, then I’m afraid he might be among that great collection of misogynist writers.

[Jonfaith · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Great!" cries the Emperor. "What one conquers
is up to the scholar's quills.
And let the Treasury boys go bonkers
trying to pay the bills."

My reading of this late Brodsky collection was deeply influenced by yesterday's experience with the biography. Medical issues hover just off the page. Overpopulation and climate change abound. Seeking not only solace but perspective, Brodsky heralds objects at the expense of memory. The latter being but ubiquitous cigarette smoke.

The citation above highlights the eternal recurrence. My wife's brother alerted me this morning that he's found a parcel of goats for me to shepherd should we find ourselves compelled to relocate overseas.

[Illiterate · Rating 2 out of 5]

Brodsky’s enervating style spoils his attempts to be playful and colloquial. Top tip: Fin de Siecle.

[Patrick · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.0 Brodsky finished this poem collection shortly before he died, and it was published the same year of his death. It’s the first work by him that I have read. It’s judged to be a lesser work by him, and while I cannot judge exactly due to not having read his earlier works, I can say that this collection is a mixture of cerebral and slang; poems in the book lean more towards the former or the latter, and some a mix of both. I especially like the poems that seem to keep both aspects to a lesser degree, or at least mix both(thereby keeping both in-check).

Favourite poems:
An Admonition
Portrait of Tragedy
Ode to Concrete
Anthem
At the city dump in Nantucket
Love Song
Blues
Persian Arrow

[Maurizio Manco · Rating 3 out of 5]

"… quando sussulti al pensiero della tua pochezza,
ricorda: lo spazio, al quale, sembra, niente è necessario,
ha un bisogno estremo, tuttavia,
di uno sguardo da fuori, di un criterio del vuoto.
E solo tu puoi servire a questo scopo."
(Insegnamento, p. 41)

[Jenni · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've heard he doesn't translate well, but I still love this collection.

[Harry Palacio · Rating 5 out of 5]

Joseph Brodsky’s So Forth is an anthology of Maps and narrative of guests at derision. The Noble Prize Winner releases yet another book of poems and it’s vernacular and garishness (albeit in respect to being a work containing fiery prose and diction it never fails to deliver on command- as though benefic portents were afoot- sink into this and other Brodsky collections, one must read the Nobel Prize Winners of history to become a learned person

[Novice · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wonderful distractions, thoughtful, light, easy read.

[João Cruz · Rating 4 out of 5]

Poesia Russa para celebrar a cultura universal. Nascido em Leningrado, mas expulso da URSS.

[Seth the Zest · Rating 4 out of 5]

Challenging and lovely. Brodsky is the only poet whose rhymes I'm willing to read most days, even if a few in this book seemed like a stretch.

[Drew · Rating 2 out of 5]

The name Joseph Brodsky has always sounded so stodgy and professorial that I've avoided him for years. But finding this posthumous collection in an abandoned cardboard box in Chelsea, I thought I'd give his poems a chance. After all, what's in a name? Here, the longest poems ("Vertumnus," especially) deliver the least; while those which rhyme in an almost childlike fashion ("A Song,""Reveille," "Love Song," "A Tale") defy their simple titles and delight with playful complexity.

Book found in box on 16th Street between Sixth and Seventh Avenues.

[Jerry · Rating 3 out of 5]

In general I like Russian poetry. He's a Russian poet.

[Malia · Rating 3 out of 5]

Didn't get a whole lot out of this (Kind of meloncolie) but the guy who suggested it likes it. To each his own.

[scarlettraces · Rating 4 out of 5]

Things in here that I really really liked. And others that were too distancing or I'm not sophisticated enough to grasp.