"Robert Bringhurst may well be the poet we have all been waiting for, one who can reclaim for poetry the dignity, wit, brilliance, and wisdom it has recently appeared to have mislaid. He is without doubt a major poet, not only in the context of Canadian letters, but in that of all writing of our time."—Poetry
Inspired by Eastern, pre-Socratic, and Native American art and ideas, Robert Bringhurst's Selected Poems gathers work from fifteen volumes and embodies music, ecology, mythology, and philosophy. As he writes, "When you think intensely and beautifully, something happens." Bringhurst's passion for books and words extends to the design and typography of this gorgeous volume.
"Essay on Adam"
There are five possibilities. One: Adam fell. Two: he was pushed. Three: he jumped. Four: he only looked over the edge, and one look silenced him. Five: nothing worth mentioning happened to Adam.
The first, that he fell, is too simple. The fourth, fear, we have tried. It is useless. The fifth, nothing happened, is dull. The choices are these: he jumped or was pushed. And the difference between them
is only an issue of whether the demons work from the inside out or from the outside in: the one theological question.
Robert Bringhurst is a poet, typographer, and linguist, well known for his award-winning translations of Haida storytellers. His manual The Elements of Typographic Style is one of the world's most influential texts on typographic design. He lives on Quadra Island, British Columbia.
Robert Bringhurst is a Canadian poet, typographer and author. He is the author of The Elements of Typographic Style – a reference book of typefaces, glyphs and the visual and geometric arrangement of type. He has also translated works of epic poetry from Haida mythology into English.
He lives on Quadra Island, near Campbell River, British Columbia (approximately 170 km northwest of Vancouver).
This poet is a treasure! I am amazed and inspired by his work. There are so many amazing poems in this particular volume that it is difficult to quote from them. However there are a couple of gems I would like to share. First from the Geologist's Daughter(p.257): "The philosopher of music says to the musician of ideas that what has been
can never not have been."
Second A Quadratic Equation (p.19): Voice: the breath's tooth. Thought: the brain's bone. Birdsong: an extension of the beak. Speech: the antler of the mind.
This is poetry to read and contemplate. I am going to be seeking out more of this man's work. I am fortunate to have found this on the shelves of our public library.
I'd not heard of Bringhurst before I bought this book. A review led me to it, a happy find. This is a kind of poetry I most delight in. The feel of his themes is both Western classical and Oriental mandarin at the same time, giving the poetry intellectual appeal, thought-inducing weight, and a feeling that in each poem something profound is being considered. He often writes about water. Because each poem seems like contemplation disturbing the still pool of idea, this seems appropriate. I found this very attractive poetry, highly philosophical, obscure enough that I couldn't touch the bottom of those pools the poems enter. I know Bringhurst, like Eliot, will require visits time after time to reveal different meanings, different colors. Reading Selected Poems struck an inner bell in me. Not only was it a gratifying experience to discover a craftsman who could so breathtakingly hammer poems into a confederacy of words and images and give texture to dreams, but the book itself is handsome. It's printed on magnificently lovely paper and beautifully bound and covered so that it rests in your lap like a satisfying work of art. Intellectually and physically beautiful, the book provided me a memorable reading experience.
Good, but not GREAT (for me, at least). My philosophy of reading these days have been: read only those books that bowl you over; put down anything that doesn't. So although I did appreciate and like Bringhurst's poems, they weren't really flooring me, so I decided it to put it down and move on to others that might.
Of the earth, indigenous, mythos, mythopoeic. Sporadically as clever as a coyote. Eternal longing in the cycles of life and psyche, what is lost and lingering hope.