I thought I had read everything by Levine, particularly from the 70s to the 90s, but discovered this on my shelf (in an edition reprinted by Univ of Iowa Press in their Prairie Lights Books editions). Even more surprisingly, when I started through it the first time, I thought I didn't like it! And I have have never had that reaction to a Levine book before.
Why? I think I felt there were too many poems that were too obviously trying to be symbolic, and that felt more heavy handed than Levine poems usually felt. The narrative elements were subdued, played down in the face of this stretch for meaning. But I quickly realized this was the wrong interpretation of what he was doing.
I think in the 80s, Levine lost some of the revolutionary fervor that had animated those great books at the end of the 70s. And he hadn't quite discovered the depth of his commitment to working people that informed the books from the 90s and beyond. There is something in "Sweet Will" that feels a little desperate in the face of the darkness. He looks into the night hoping for light, but doesn't find much of it:
When the long day turns
to dark and you're nowhere
you've ever been before, you
keep going, and the magic eyes
that gleam by the roadside
are those of animals come
down from the invisible hills.
Yes, they have something to tell
or something to give you
from a world you've lost.
But by the end of the book, in the remarkable fairly long poem "Jewish Graveyards, Italy," he can write something like this:
I can
stand under an umbrella, a man
in a romance I never finished
come to tell the rain a secret
the living don't want and the dead know:
how life goes on, how seasons pass,
the children grow, and the earth gives
back what it took
That is the attitude that shapes so much of the later Levine, and it is great to see it articulated right at the end of this darker book.
And there is one of his great Detroit poems in this book, that gets reprinted in his various selected. "An Ordinary Morning," describing a bus ride from Toledo to Detroit, and it ends with some lines that deserve to be famous:
the brakes
gasp and take hold, and we are
the living, newly arrived
in Detroit, city of dreams,
each on his own black throne.