Robinson Alone

by Kathleen Rooney

The Nebraska-born poet, painter, critic, and musician Weldon Kees traced a brief, bright path through midcentury America before vanishing in 1955, an apparent suicide. Among the poems he left behind are a particularly unsettling four that feature the mysterious Robinson: both a prototypical member of the smart set—masking his desperation with urbane savoir-faire—and an alter ego for the troubled Kees himself.

In ROBINSON ALONE, Kathleen Rooney performs a bold act of literary mediumship, conjuring Kees through his borrowed character to sketch his restless journey across locales and milieus—New York, San Francisco, the highways between—and to evoke his ambitions, his frustrations, and his skewed humor. The product of a decade-long engagement with Kees and his work, this novel in poems is not only a portrait of an under-appreciated genius and his era, but also a beam flashed into haunted boiler-rooms that still fire the American spirit, rooms where energy and optimism are burnt down to ash.

Genres: Poetry, Fiction

132 pages, Paperback

First published October 22, 2012

About the author

Kathleen Rooney is a founding editor of Rose Metal Press, a publisher of literary work in hybrid genres, and a founding member of Poems While You Wait, a team of poets and their typewriters who compose commissioned poetry on demand.

She is the author, most recently, of the novels Lillian Boxfish Takes a Walk and Cher Ami and Major Whittlesey. Her latest collection Where Are the Snows, winner of the XJ Kennedy Prize, was published by Texas Review Press in September 2022. Her novel from Dust to Stardust, was published by Lake Union Press in Fall of 2023, and her debut picture book--co-written with her sister Beth Rooney and illustrated by Betsy Bowen--was published by University of Minnesota Press in Fall of 2025.

Her fifth novel, Man Overboard!, is coming out with Gallery Books in July of 2026.

Reviews

[Paul Wilner]

Who would have thought a poetry cycle about the late poet and artist Weldon Kees could have been brought about so successfully, and hold our attention so well with its lyric touch, reminiscent in places of John Berryman but distinctively the author's own, and tart, sorrowful but never maudlin unfoldings? Kees died an apparent suicide after throwing himself off the Golden Gate Bridge; this book is a faithful, but not unduly, reverent, homage, that holds you with each page, and each line.

[Professor X]

This book is a marvel in a world of contemporary poetry mostly failing to justify its relevance beyond becoming an echo-chamber of egos fighting to out-clever each other.

It is far more than a mere biographical novel-in-poems chronicling the life & times of the poet Weldon Kees, more than a channeling of Kees' own doomed character Robinson, but an exploration of Rooney's own "Robinson" ~ very much in the tradition not only of Kees but of Berryman's "Henry."

The book demands to be read as a chronological series, but each poem more than stands on its own well-heeled feet. They are funny, sad, densely detailed, impeccably crafted.

Those who have actually picked up the book & read it find it difficult to put down ~ even more difficult to forget.

[Anne]

This reminded me of Berryman's Dream Songs--and it is brilliant.

[Hollowspine]

I do not read much poetry at all. In fact, I tend to avoid it, often finding myself between two extremes, finding poorly executed or finding myself poorly educated. Robinson Alone never allowed me to forget that it was a poetry collection. The strange spacing of the lines, the rhyming, the flow of the words. However, I was also caught up in the story Rooney told through the poem, the changing styles of the verses following the shift of mood in the story.

I also really enjoyed Rooney's word-play, saying that her poetry had rhymes in it simplifies it too much, her rhyming and pairing of words creates an interesting pause to ponder each word and the double or triple meanings it conveys.

The story was extremely depressing, but interesting to read. I find it interesting that after having read it, I don't think that a traditional narrative could do it any justice, without the word-play the poetry, the precise way that Rooney laid her story out, it would not have been as good.

So, I did my duty to read poetry during April. I enjoy doing it. I'm not sure this book would appeal to everyone, and you couldn't pick or choose a poem out of it to write on a mother's or father's day card. Maybe that is why I liked it.

[Beth Rooney]

This book is a hilarious and sad collection of poems that anyone with even a slight inclination toward poetry should read. There is even a bonus joke on page 113 in the poem called "Standing on the Landing" that will make all your friends laugh when you tell it at parties. Buy this book!

[Emily]

Robinson is rich, restless, bored, and drifting. Robinson is lonely. Robinson is alone.

In Kathleen Rooney's novel in poems, Robinson Alone, she traces the life of Robinson, an elusive character in just four of Weldon Kees's poems (and a representation of Kees himself) as he moves cross-country--and moves from disenchantment to despair. As Robinson makes haste to leave his Nebraskan hometown, to set up shop in NYC, working for Time magazine, we don't need a whole chapter to tell us about the town--Rooney can say so much with so little, and she does so eloquently throughout the book, "This hateful small./ This hateful empty," ("Robinson's Hometown"). Once in NYC, as Robinson's well-to-do life, and wife, Ann, and fear of the draft progress, he finds himself growing more and more cynical and more and more disappointed with what his life has become, "they sold fun & we bought it. We/ bought it" ("What does he want? The future? When does he want it? Now!"). So he and Anne pick up and leave NYC for the West, driving through state after state. And this is where Rooney excels--the way she can create a phrase that is not just original but also provides an understanding of how the character is feeling, such as, the way Robinson is "Eyeing other poor saps in their rolling coffins" ("Robinson tears pages from The Rand McNally Road Atlas") while Ann reads Burma Shave ads out loud as they travel by car. It is clear that the two of them are searching for...something...though, "Robinson confesses they don't know what they'll do when they reach the West Coast" ("Over a thousand miles from New York City"). Unfortunately, making a new home in San Francisco doesn't make life much better for the couple. Ann starts drinking constantly; Robinson begins feeling inferior to his friends, as he finds out about their successes, which just serves to illuminate his failures. Their marriage rips at the seams as Ann drinks herself into anxiety and paranoia, and they divorce, with Robinson slipping into depression and trying to find solace in sex. During this deterioration, Rooney uses poems meant to be letters that Robinson is writing to his friends/family (we aren't quite sure)--a great way to illustrate how his state of mind continues to sink, especially since these poems are all in Robinson's own words, "The trick/ of repeating, 'It can't get any worse,' is certainly no good,/ when all the evidence points to quite the opposite" ("Robinson sends a letter to someone," p 108). It's clear to us that all Robinson seems to be finding is depression, "He can't get the world right,/ he can only walk around in it" ("Robinson understands as he stands at North Point & Fillmore"), and we wonder what will happen to him as "Bone-/thin in a linen suit, he executes/ a slow vanishing act" ("Robinson dines mostly in restaurants lately") and he decides "He will go out glitzed. Called a phenom. Called unstoppable" ("Historically, Suicides). But Rooney--paying homage to Kees himself, who disappeared in 1955--doesn't tell us. And rightly so: maybe Robinson (Kees) ran off to Mexico to see if jumpstarting his life would work there; maybe Robinson (Kees) committed suicide. We're not sure. What Rooney does leave us with is this, "Seven years after a disappearance, a person can be pronounced dead./ But that's nothing compared to the size of the ocean" ("Robinson's telephone rings"). And I think that's all we need to know.

[Allyson]

I am trying, desperately, to carve out more writing and reading time for myself. This is my 2013.

This morning, I got up at 6 am and did just that.

I wrote and read.

I read this book in its entirety, in one sitting. I stopped once to refill my coffee cup.

I could not have picked a better starting point. I am in love with this book.

It made me think more about my own book project ideas, how so often I get stuck and how maybe I just need to push through the uncomfort of stuckville to arrive at where I want to be.

Scribbled many notes and smeared them. To have ink on my hands in the morning is a thing not experienced in a while.

Will resonate for long periods:

"But the more he thinks so, the more his brain goes--

disloyal engine, machining through the ether."

(from "At a Motel in the Shadow of a Sad River City", pgs. 65-66)

[Molly]

Incompletion makes people / want to fill your blanks in. (36)

Interview: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/artic...

[Marcella]

I’ve started this review a couple of times because I am apparently unsure how I want to remember this book when I look back at my reviews years from now.

I picked this one up because I heard the author speak and thought she was eminently interesting. I first read Lillian Boxfish and liked that without being enamored (side note - you can see a bit of Boxfish in this when she focuses on the roadside ads similar to the opening of Boxfish with old ads). I thought the author had a unique view on literature, so I looked up a few of her books. The concept of novel in poems intrigued me. At the same time, I wasn’t expecting to love this book but I thought it would be different. And it was, but I also loved it.

The language is beautiful and meditative and modern (that might not be the best descriptor, maybe not stuffy). I’ve never favored poetry as a genre and so don’t read it frequently - though I find myself re-reading Prufrock every couple of years. I guess sometimes I need poetry in my life to steer me toward some pause and contemplation. This was unexpectedly and fortuitously timed.

The novel in poems concept was wonderful as well - I could enjoy each quick poem by itself and then all together as driving toward a larger story. Or just in sections - I can’t even describe how section II actually felt like a road trip (the well placed interspersed sing-song ads was a great touch). It was a visceral experience. After reading a piece that particularly resonated, I would stop reading and think about it. Something I haven’t done in a while with the prose I’ve read.

There is a part of me that wished I had read this on kindle to share all the quotes I’ll be keeping - but I’m glad I read this in “real” book. There’s something about seeing poetry on real paper that just feels right. There’s something about occasionally reading it aloud that also feels right, though obviously only at home with the pups so as not to be judged on cadence :)

Long winded way of saying this was a happy accident of a great read, and I can see myself coming back and re-reading it. Also I am definitely going to read Weldon Kees in the near future (already on hold at the lib), but more importantly (maybe) I’m going to try to be a little more frequent about poetry in my reading diet. Even if that only means some poetry once a year.

[Andrew Crocker]

Wonderful. I am typically turned off by a 'novel-in-poems,' however this was less a novel than chronological. Or perhaps that's all that's required for a book of poems to be considered a novel? Nonetheless, Rooney took the voice of Robinson clear as Kees himself. I resonated so well with the New York poems and was taken away by the move to the west coast. What compelled me most was Rooney's delivery. So often in poetry poets get bored and cop-out the end, not in just the books themselves but the poems even. She crafts her poems so as to make them sound beautiful and surprising but also complete. . . All the way through to the end. What came to mind as I finished the book was the difference between the recent movies Lincoln and Zero Dark Thirty. We all know the ends to these stories, as in Robinson Alone, but Lincoln copped out the end, just failed (spoiler alert?) and Zero Dark Thirty had you holding on tight to the finish. Kathleen Rooney's Robinson Alone followed through perfectly. This book is far from being accessible to Weldon Kees fans only, its for any that loves stories of cities, personal relationships and even some mystery (<-why not?, its what Kees wanted, I'm sure).

[Leah Angstman]

This book was just stunning. I'm completely floored by its brilliance, imagination, and utterly unique lines. I can't even pick a favorite piece or favorite line because nearly literally every line just hummed and sang and swam with perfection. The book is coined a novel-in-poems, telling the fictional life of Robinson, an alter-ego character who shows up in four of troubled late poet Weldon Kees' poems. Rooney digs into and recreates Robinson, and in doing so, we find that Kees, who simply disappeared in 1955, is still alive and kicking on these pages. I've just never read anything as haunting and uniquely original as this voice and this work as a whole. My heart was dragged through the mire all the way to the bittersweet end.

[Andrea Slot]

The story behind the book is fascinating but what is even more fascinating is how the rhythm of the work -- the style of writing -- is so similar to Kees'. Rooney really nails the poetic style as well as the mystery here. In fact, her work may soon cause a resurgent interest in Kees, if it hasn't already. A fun and illuminating read.

[Steve]

Works as a novel. Works as an historical narrative. Works as a bio-homage to Weldon Kees. Works as bundle of allusion. But above all else, some of the best poetry I've read in years. Downright brilliant use of internal rhyme and manipulation of the poetic line. A must-read from a true rising star.

[Diane Kendig]

I have read 10 excruciatingly boring books of poetry the past week, and this one was a bright, beautiful, engaging antidote to all that. My only reservation is that the Kees lines stood out and above Rooney's own. If that were all she had done, captured these terrific lines for us, it were enough. But in fact, she has done so much more. Loved this book.

[Alan]

I loved, loved, loved this book. I found myself rereading poems over and over - even out loud.

[john albarado]

very good book i love it

[Natalia]

This narrative told in poems is beautiful and haunting.

[Michael Brockley]

If anyone has figured out Weldon Kees' final story, it's Kathleen Rooney. A novella/bio-fiction told through stunning poems.

[Don]

Fascinating effort. Brilliantly executed, evocative. A poet to watch.

[Jen]

Wonderful collection of poems. Loved the ups and downs of the titular Robinson. There were so many lines in these poems that I need to remember and quote later. A seriously good read.

[Mona Parker]

Brilliant. Reminds me of Eliot

[Anne]

I need to re-read this before I can even try to review or rate it. I will say that I love how Kathleen Rooney's books always send me to the internet, wanting to learn more about her topics.

[Carl]

"a man wearing a mask / & pointing to the mask." (p. 93)

[XXX]

I found many of the poems individually moving and all are well-written. Many of the stylistic choices are quite well done, one of the more haunting being the "Burma Shave" poems that slowly morph from the mundane into the dark and suicidal. I found "If Robinson Came from the Heartland" quite poignant in describing what it feels like to be young and unsure in a creative field, unable to get a strong grasp on what is meaningful and valuable in your work.

Still, as I grow older it's harder and harder for me to appreciate the problems of the artist(ic) character searching for purpose. Although it is an emotion I have felt, often deeply, it has become harder for me to fully engage with this as a central theme, particularly when the character comes from a place of relative privilege (as Robinson seems to and I certainly do). There is much suffering in the world; is one man's aimlessness so worthy of such special focus?

To be sure, Robinson (especially later) struggles with very real, concrete issues (his wife's breakdown and institutionalization). Further, the aimlessness described in this book is real to many people and it deserves to be taken seriously, as with any emotion. Yet, the book does not seem to place this problem in perspective. It is the Dostoevskian artistic angst without the balance of a Chekhovian appreciation for work, sacrifice, and the vast diversity of hardship in the world.

[Matt]

A sporadically interesting book of poems, as Rooney maps Kees life back onto the Robinson character Kees used as a screen for his experiences and reflections. I think the primary element here is the internal rhyme, which does recall Kees and which is, for a while, really appealing, making these poems sparkle, feeling very witty and urbane. But as the book continues, the effect of the rhyme does become kind of grating.

The first sections of the book, I felt, lived very much on the surface. But the last section, which chronicles Robinson/ Kees' breakdown, was very moving.

[Cooper Renner]

Rooney inhabits a character--Robinson--invented by Weldon Kees in a few poems, with echoes of Kees' own life. A sort of novel in verse. Shelf alongside Meredith's Hazard the Painter and Justice's "Tremayne" poems.

[Lori]

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