Collected Poems Paul Auster Poetry 1st Edition First Printing [Hardcover] Paul Auster

by Paul Auster

This rare and vintage book is a perfect addition to any bibliophile's collection

Genres: Poetry, Literature, Fiction, The United States Of America, American

233 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2004

About the author

Paul Auster was the bestselling author of 4 3 2 1, Bloodbath Nation, Baumgartner, The Book of Illusions, and The New York Trilogy, among many other works. In 2006 he was awarded the Prince of Asturias Prize for Literature. Among his other honors are the Prix Médicis Étranger for Leviathan, the Independent Spirit Award for the screenplay of Smoke, and the Premio Napoli for Sunset Park. In 2012, he was the first recipient of the NYC Literary Honors in the category of fiction. He was also a finalist for the International IMPAC Dublin Literary Award (The Book of Illusions), the PEN/Faulkner Award (The Music of Chance), the Edgar Award (City of Glass), and the Man Booker Prize (4 3 2 1). Auster was a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters and a Commandeur de l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres. His work has been translated into more than forty languages. He died at age seventy-seven in 2024.

Reviews

[Jonfaith · Rating 3 out of 5]

Each syllable
is the work of sabotage.

I am reluctant to admit that I was much more impressed with the translations by Auster of established poets (Eluard, Char) than by his own work. Auster's verse is rooted in his reading of Merleau-Ponty and larded with symbolism from Spinoza and even more obscure eschatologists. It aches as it aspires to bridge a distance between subject and sensation. It harkens to Arendt's Human Condition while remaining sensual in a milieu of alleged disrepute. There's affectation at play, a charade in the key of Auster-ity, Franz's Hunger Artist awaiting a callback. This ain't Prague.

[Suellen Rubira · Rating 5 out of 5]

releitura em agosto de 2023:
quando não me aguento mais, quando o tempo cronológico me desmonta, volto para o auster e sempre descubro algo novo. esse livro é tudo pra mim, é parte de mim.


releitura em novembro de 2022: mais versos grifados, mais poemas destacados. permanece uma dúvida: por que em vários momentos a palavra "word" é traduzida como "mundo"? fiquei pensativa aqui e se alguém souber a resposta, agradeço. no mais, eu simplesmente VENERO esse livro.

*

poesia tirada das entranhas da linguagem, da compreensão de algo maior. eu amei cada poema desse livro.

[taylor :) · Rating 2 out of 5]

i didn’t enjoy this. one of the reviews on here says something around the lines of “i don’t understand what these poems mean but the language is moving” and yeah, it is on the surface very intriguing. brooding, pensive, very dark, visceral, invasive at times. but when you do literally just a second reading, the insistent writing about writing, about language and speech and the unsaid, it becomes repetitive very quickly. and by very quickly, i mean by poem 4 or 5, and you’ve got hundreds more just like it. it’s self-indulgent. and then post-hiatus it’s just rupi kaur i mean it’s offensive to my intelligence at that point. disappointing end to my reading year.

[M. Sarki · Rating 3 out of 5]

Paul Auster is a very talented man. His poems are well-made and he should be very proud of them. Auster says himself (and is quoted in the introduction) that these artifacts may be seen down the road as his very best work. I was not so enamored with his translations, but I don't think it had anything to do at all with the work Auster did on them. It was important for me to read these poems and I am more impressed with Auster than before. It has enabled a clearer understanding I would not have had otherwise. I don't know of many writers who successfully write poetry, fiction, and essays as well as Auster does. Hard to do all these well. Generally we need to stick with what works best, but Auster is proof that sometimes we just don't know. Glad he had the courage to try other things than poetry. We are all better for it. I really cannot tell you what any of his poems mean, but there is something about them that stays with you, which is good enough for me.

[Lee Kofman · Rating 1 out of 5]

It pains me to give one star to Auster, some of whose books I really love (especially Leviathan and The Invention of Solitude). I also acknowledge I'm not a particularly savvy poetry reader. And yet... The poems are not only inaccessible, but also maddeningly devoid of feeling as well as, it seems to me, honesty. In short, they're consistently pretentious. I did doubt my judgement more until I read the last section in the book which is I'd say prose poetry, or maybe simply prose, and it felt just the same as the poems - pretentious and false. I'm glad Auster left poetry for good when he began writing novels.

[Alessandro · Rating 3 out of 5]

περί + φράζω

[Curtis · Rating 4 out of 5]

As a fan of Auster's novels, these proved an interesting/insightful read. Some of the early poems felt particularly confusing, but either he lightened up as he went or I simply found my sea legs, but it became easier to follow the more he repeated themes across multiple pieces. The Introduction and the End Notes are particularly helpful for breaking down the philosophy he wants the pieces to convey. What is the message, you ask? The TLDR of this collection is that talking is a waste of time and everyone needs to shut the fuck up and learn to communicate through vibes alone. I wish him luck in his mission to ban talking. This definitely felt like getting a peek into the notebook of a mental patient lol, not that that's a bad thing. It feels like Auster was born with only a certain amount of socializing in his body and now he knows he's about to reach EMPTY and doesn't know what will happen next, only that it will be bad. Who hasn't felt that way after dealing with one too many normies?

[Chris S · Rating 1 out of 5]

Finished it, but found it a wee bit impenetrable.

[M.W.P.M. · Rating 3 out of 5]

We dream
that we do not dream. We wake
in the hours of sleep
and sleep through the silence
that stands over us. Summer
keeps its promise
by breaking it.
- Dictum: After Great Distances

There's a reason Paul Auster is known for his fiction and not his poetry. Like many writers before him, Auster started in poetry but abandoned the vocation after the success of his New York Trilogy . Having read both, I would sooner recommend his fiction, particularly The New York Trilogy.

Anyone curious about Auster's poetry may be interested to know that there are inklings of his fiction, certain tonal and thematic elements that foreshadow the subjects he would later explore in his novels. The prose poem "White Spaces" reads, at times, like the speech given by Peter Stillman in City of Glass:

It comes from my voice. But that does not mean these words will
ever be what happens. It comes and goes. If I happen to be
speaking at this moment, it is only because I hope to find a way
of going along, and so begin to find a way of filling the silence without
breaking it.

My favourite poems in the collection weren't written by Auster. They are poems by the French Surrealists (André Breton, Paul Éluard, Robert Desnos, etc.) translated by Auster. The reason being that Auster doesn't have a strong voice in poetry, and therefore does not impose upon the style of the writer he is translating.

Overall recommendation: Skip the poetry and read the fiction.

[Neil Fulwood · Rating 4 out of 5]

In his introduction to this volume, Norman Finkelstein notes that Auster’s verse is “a poetry that develops rapidly, following a trajectory from taut and furious to open and reconciled, from the reduced minims of world and language to generous valediction. But it ends, it definitively ends.” Following the part-prose-poem/part-mission-statement ‘White Spaces’, Auster received an inheritance which allowed him to focus on the long-form novel format, after which he dedicated himself entirely to prose. Which is a shame. I’d love to have witnessed his continued development as a poet rather than, as evidenced by the work he has produced since ‘Book of Illusions’, his gradual slide from relevance as a novelist.

[Shawn Aebi · Rating 3 out of 5]

As enigmatic as it is dense. Full of riddles, opining about life's meanings - constantly changing from forces beyond our control and yet we have some undefined role to play - not to understand but to be. Lots of 70s themes at work in these pieces - control is not as important as we make it out to be. While nature is a constant element in his declarations, other people - lovers, family, children are nearly absent in the collection.

[Angel Osorio · Rating 4 out of 5]

Far-fetched metaphors verging on incomprehensibility. Outlandish imagery. Often very cerebral vocabulary and wordplay.


Certainly a challenging read - and considering Auster's much more notable success as a novelist, probably uninteresting to many. I, however, found it highly rewarding and will probably return to it in the future.

[Zarah · Rating 3 out of 5]

I enjoyed Auster's poetry well enough. There are a few I may look back on.

[Alix · Rating 4 out of 5]

your ink has learned
the violence of the wall. banished,
but always to the heart
of bothering quiet, you cant the stones
of unseen earth, and smooth your place
among the wolves.

[Mariana Calmon · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5
Os últimos dois blocos de poesia me encantaram muito, maravilhoso

[Baruj E. Cohen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Magnificent!! Auster is an authentic poet!! This is a gem of literature.

[Waldo · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pretty normal. ოსტერის რომანები მირჩევნია.

[Debora · Rating 3 out of 5]

“e ele que começaria a respirar aprenderá que não há aonde ir senão aqui. Portanto, recomeça, como se fosse a última vez que iria respirar. Pois não há mais tempo. E é o fim do tempo que começa.”

[Maarten Buser · Rating 3 out of 5]

Prima werk, maar had er op basis van Austers proza - dat gewoon goed tot heel goed is - toch wat meer verwacht. Veel thema's die overeenkomen met z'n andere werk - toeval, de relatie tussen taal en wereld, tussen wereld en taal, enzovoort - maar minder sterk uitgewerkt.

[Christian · Rating 3 out of 5]

As a Auster artistic advocate I've read his ten (twelve)novels and his nonfiction The Invention of Solitude and The Red Notebook. As a novelist and poet myself, I felt an obligation to attempt Auster's poetry.
Collected Poems spans a decade of poetry (1970-79)and a few translated French poems of his earlier work as a bonus. From the get-go I can say that his fluid novel and non fiction prose found contrasts with sometimes awkward, soul-searching poetic moments. Yet his mastery of language, intelligence and depth are found a every corner and hidden in the nooks and crannies of hazy inspirations and expirations.

The poetic journey is steady and always requires your attention and your creativity, Interpretation is never easy and you feel that you are always missing something try as you may - a bit like life in fact. Unfortunately this may be a bit too alienating to most and even if there are indeniable insights and artistic prouesses, the lack of clear cohesion and inutive innovation make it hard to relate or correlate.

As you read through you get used to the awkwardness, yet you do not find the key or the epiphany of some work that reveal themselves as you go. Rather you are melancholic and find "Facing the Music" not quite melodic. This cacophony cackles with brilliance, but is left mostly in the shady shadows. Only when we reach the "White Spaces (1979)" which is a cross between poetry and introspectic nonfiction to we see the great Auster emerge.

An interesting exploration, but no clear findings.
As for the French poetry it is neither here nor there, just gliding.

Auster is a master, but here he is in becoming. Searching, swirling.
Fun, far-fetched, but a bit cold and calculated like curling.

[Josh · Rating 4 out of 5]

To paraphrase comedian Dave Hill, I always feel a bit like "a caveman in a spaceship" when I try to write about poetry. That seems fitting for this complete collection of Paul Auster's published poetry, because Auster's subject is the difficulty of translating experience into words. For the last 35 years, Auster has written novels, nonfiction essays, and screenplays and directed a few films, but in the 1970s, he wrote poetry. This book collects all the poems, notes from his sketchbook, his late-'60s translations of French poets, and the 1979 piece, WHITE SPACES, that marked his transition from poetry to prose. That piece, a strange combination of the two mediums written after seeing a dance troupe rehearsal, seems, in its own quiet way, like the summation of Auster's obsessions. His poetry is specifically about the difficulty of describing experience, but can be generally applied to any artistic medium or maybe even any human transaction or interaction relying on language. Some key lines, for me: "The world is in my head. My body is in the world." "The eye does not will what enters it: it must always refuse to refuse." "The world that walks inside me is a world beyond reach." "The tongue is forever taking us away from where we are, and nowhere can we be at rest in the things we are given to see, for each word is an elsewhere, a thing that moves more quickly than the eye, even as this sparrow moves, veering into the air in which it has no home." "The world is my idea. I am the world. The world is your idea. You are the world. My world and your world are not the same." "... our perceptions are necessarily limited. Which means that the world has a limit, that it stops somewhere. But where it stops for me is not necessarily where it stops for you."

[Pliyo San · Rating 4 out of 5]

Magnífico. Lo mejor que me llevo es su forma de evocar la fuerza de la palabra y el silencio, sus imágenes son densas pero esconden cosas, su voz en el poema tiene algo magnético.

Hay especialmente uno que me llamó la atención:

Nómada...
hasta que ningún sitio, floreciendo
en la cárcel de tu boca, se convierte
en allí donde estás:
tú leíste la fábula
escrita en la mirada
del dado: (era la
palabra-meteoro, garabateada entre nosotros
por la luz, sin embargo al final
no teníamos pruebas, no
pudimos presentar
la piedra). El dado-con-el-dado
poseen ya tu nombre. Como quien dice,
dondequierea que estás,
contigo está el desierto. Como si,
vayas por donde vayas, el desierto
es nuevo,
va contigo.

[Kasandra · Rating 3 out of 5]

Deeply philosophical, I liked the later poems better than the earlier ones. All of them show a clear French influence, and though they are often intriguing, I found it hard to connect emotionally with Auster's poetry, in contrast to both his fiction and his memoirs. There's surreal imagery here, and a constant struggle to voice what Auster feels cannot truly be voiced. The end result was that I felt suspended in a dreamlike but frustrated state while reading these and afterwards, isolated and observant but bereft of any deep feeling of satisfaction or real connection. And that, perhaps, was the point of many of these poems: to get the reader to acknowledge his own world, limited and limiting and ultimately unsayable.

[John Williams · Rating 5 out of 5]

Deeply philosophical, highly influenced by early 20th century French Dada poets, yet always retaining a truly human touch that reminds me a bit of early Mark Strand, I cannot recommend Auster's poetry enough. Though a good portion of his Collected Poems includes fresh translations of the French masters that inspire him, which themselves are often brilliant, Auster's own poetry resonated far deeper with me. I've returned to this book many times over the years.

[John · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Notes from a composition book," the last item in this collection, is more philosophy of art than poetry - it captures an artist grappling with the ideas of Wittgenstein and Merleau-Ponty while reaching for a way to personalize them. This essay informs the rest of the poems in the collection, which makes its placement at the end of the book (rather than the beginning, which would make sense chronologically) the only real criticism I have of an otherwise wonderful collection of writing.

[Sameen Shakya · Rating 5 out of 5]

Primarily a novelist, Paul Auster also wrote poems. Color me surprised.

His novels are post modern so I was expecting his poems to be the same but, to my surprise, they are much more modern and a bit romantic.

They don't blow your socks off but they were very pleasant to read. Much of the sensibilities that made him a great prose writer persists in his poems as well.

[Daniel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very dense, very literate poems. Even if you don't understand what's going on at all times (and I certainly didn't; the poems' internal worlds are opaque at best), you can at least appreciate the wildly inventive language.

[Ally McCulloch]

Read a poem in New York from this book. It had the word "invisible" in it and I'm like "Cool!" cuz he had a book named "Invisible" but it was written way after these poems. Weird! Trippy! But, I'm hesitant to read the rest of the poems, because they seem really boring, but we'll see.

[Kimberly · Rating 2 out of 5]

I wish that I could give this book 2.5 stars. I sincerely loved some of the poems and others were a complete struggle and fell flat for me.

[Adriano · Rating 2 out of 5]

+7 for transformative "White spaces”, +1 for his poems, +4 for his translations of French poetry.