To give up the house where you grew up, to clear out its rooms and its memories, to give its rooms to strangers, this loss in my experience leaves you homeless like no other, even the death of your parents (though the two losses are of a piece). Even when you're over 60 years old and haven't lived in the house for decades.
I have lost the house where I grew up, where I was born, and I have stood by as a number of my friends have experienced that loss. We have reached that age.
Many-Storied House is a book-length elegy to the house where George Ella Lyon grew up. From the front door to the upstairs bedroom, these poems show us the house and the experiences that shaped the poet George Ella Lyon. Each room has its story.
The book has its nostalgia, its moments of sentiment, but it is not sentimental. Some of the memories are dark: Illness, pleas for protection unheeded. Childhood, even a happy childhood has it darknesses.
I need not say that the craftsmanship is superb, the compassion of these poems large.
The book ends with a reunion and a consolation. In "Welcome," the poet opens "the door behind my eyes" and is reunited with father and house in a place outside of time.
In the hands of another writer, such a scene might seem pure schlock, but George Ella lives life so vividly that I, for one, believe the door behind her eyes is really there.