Joy in Service on Rue Tagore

by Paul Muldoon

“Is there any living poet with as skilled . . . an ear?" (McSweeney's). The answer Muldoon is a true original.Since his 1973 debut, New Weather, Paul Muldoon has created some of the most original and memorable poetry of the past half century. Joy in Service on Rue Tagore sees him writing with the same verve and distinction that have consistently won him the highest accolades.Here, from artichokes to zinc, Muldoon navigates an alphabet of image and history, through barleymen and Irish slavers to the last running wolf in Ulster. The search involves the accumulated bric-a-brac of a life, and a reckoning along the way of gains against loss. In the poet’s skillful hands, ancient maps are unfurled and brought into focus—the aggregation of Imperial Rome and the dismantling of Standard Oil, the pogroms of a Ukrainian ravine and of a Belfast shipyard. Through modern medicine and warfare, disaster and repair, these poems are electric in their energy, while profoundly humane in their line of inquiry.

Genres: Poetry

128 pages, Hardcover

Published September 10, 2024

About the author

Born in Northern Ireland, Muldoon currently resides in the US and teaches at Princeton University. He held the chair of Professor of Poetry at Oxford University from 1999 through 2004. In September 2007, Muldoon became the poetry editor of The New Yorker.

Awards:
1992: Geoffrey Faber Memorial Prize for Madoc: A Mystery
1994: T. S. Eliot Prize for The Annals of Chile
1997: Irish Times Irish Literature Prize for Poetry for New Selected Poems 1968–1994
2002: T. S. Eliot Prize (shortlist) for Moy Sand and Gravel
2003: Griffin Poetry Prize (Canada) for Moy Sand and Gravel
2003: Pulitzer Prize for Poetry for Moy Sand and Gravel
2004: American Ireland Fund Literary Award
2004: Aspen Prize
2004: Shakespeare Prize

Reviews

[Maltheus Broman · Rating 1 out of 5]

One critic compares Paul Muldoon’s influence in poetry with the Beatles’ influence in music; another says his latest collection affects the brain more than the heart of the reader. I, for one, cannot agree with either of these two statements. In his own words, Muldoon stands in the tradition of Seamus Heaney, the 1970s, down-to-earth poetry and song-writing of everyday rural life. Well, this collection proves none of it.

The Spurs — Could be a good song? Not sure.

Near Izium — A Ukraine poem saying… what exactly?

The Belfast Pogrom — Annoying sounds in the repetitive rhyming pattern.

The Hula Hoop — Too confused. Too clattered.

The River Is a Wave — By definition, no.

Ducking for Apples — Hotchpotch.

When the Italians — Unforgivable rhyming of unmatching stresses in the last words of a verse, as in ‘GARgoyle’ paired with ‘STANDard OIL’ or ‘TURmoil’ with ‘LIByan SOIL’.

For Language And Brief Nudity — Funny. And the first piece I liked a wee bit.

Artichokes and Truffles — Sounds funny. Nothing more, nothing less. But then goes on for 20 pages for no reason.

Sure Thing — What is the message here?

The Glow-Worm in the Mower — At this point, I don’t really trust the poet intuitively, or where he takes the reader, or that he knows where to take his poems — let alone his poetry.

Unfortunately, the second half doesn’t give me anything at all. The collection ends with yet another loosely connected list of vaguely formulated ideas.

Maybe I am completely in the wrong, and maybe all the journalists from RTÉ, NYRB, BBC Radio, The New Yorker and also The Telegraph have a higher reading comprehension to see beauty where I see none, but — until I am convinced otherwise — I may kindly suggest some clothes to the emperor.

[Ali · Rating 3 out of 5]

This collection plays with words, ideas and, at times, politics. I found it fairly hit and miss - sometimes, the words dance with a winking humour, best when used to channel or manage strong emotions for strong times.

[Marjorie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Poetry is a mystery. I've been convinced in a lecture that poems must have a clever turn roughly halfway through. Then I read Mary Oliver. I've been bewitched by the seeming ease of Billy Collins poems of the everyday. And then read Seamus Heaney. I've loved the strong rhyme of Edna St Vincent Millay (and Emily Dickenson for that matter) until I read "The Fish" by Elizabeth Bishop. Just when you think you know what a poem should be, you discover its something else entirely.

I wasn't wholly ignorant of Paul Muldoon's poems. I've read a few, listened to recordings of him reading some himself. But this was the first time I've sat down with a collection of his work and read it. I fully admit I am too ignorant to offer you anything in the way of literary criticism regarding Muldoon's verse. Instead, I will give you my reactions to it.

Its maddenly frustrating. He loads the lines with so many esoteric scholarly references and names, that even a Classics major at Oxford would likely be shrugging their way through them. About halfway through the book, I gave up trying to understand the poems. I decided that Muldoon doesn't care if his readers understand. If he did, he would have chosen different words. And so once I realized comprehension wasn't the goal, I focused on cadence, rhyme, image, and story.

Despite being blinded by Muldoon's arcane references, I usually grasped the gist of the poems story--the why he wrote it. To my surprise and delight, these were usually modern and relatable. So even when he is his most annoyingly obtuse, say in "Artichokes and Truffles," I was able, every few lines, to grab onto the slack rope of meaning to guide me forward.

What I enjoyed was his sneaky off rhyme, his unexpected real rhymes, and his delicious song-like lyricism. They feel like what they are about! If you pick up a collection of his poetry, and I encourage you to give him a try, read his poems aloud. Remember listening to Edith Piaf or Jacques Brel, you still love the song even if you don't understand the song's meaning. With these poems you'll understand some fractional portion of the meaning, and you'll also find yourself swaying.

Is Muldoon a favorite poet? No. I feel too shut out for that. But I'll keep puzzling at them.

[Paul Scott · Rating 5 out of 5]

MULDOON'S LATEST, I am happy to confirm, contains plenty of what you are expecting/hoping to find in a volume by Muldoon.

Exuberant play with a variety of closed forms--sonnet, quaternary, pantoum, some you don't know the names of, some that probably do not even have names yet? Check.

Whirligig simultaneous development in the same poem of deeply unlike subject matter, like the fall of the Roman Republic and the rise of glam rock? Check.

Outrageous rhymes (e.g., Aristotle's star pupil / Mott the Hoople)? Check. Several checks.

Due honor to those to whom honor is due? Check! ("Near Izium," on Ukraine's valiant self-defense.)

Oh, and of course, the long final poem, check, but moreover this one--"The Castle of Perseverance"--can stand beside "Yarrow" as one of Muldoon's most moving and vulnerable poems.

And there's also the things you were not expecting but are happy to find: a couple of surprisingly moving Christmas poems ("Nativity, 2020" and "Whilst the Ox and Ass") and a convincing, cliché-less acknowledgement of one's own mortality ("The MRI").

Like the Union veteran in the Winslow Homer painting on the book's cover, swinging his scythe, Muldoon is still out there after all these years, gathering the harvest.

[Bandit · Rating 3 out of 5]

I wasn't sure how to rate this poetry collection, so I rounded it up as a reflection of my appreciation for the author's playfulness with language and form. For me, that was the real star of the show here.
I don't like navel-gazing, overly introspective poetry where the author's world is as narrow as the confines of their own skin, but I'm not crazy about political rants either. Whether I agree or disagree with them.
Overall, reading this collection, I constantly found myself more interested in and charmed by form than content. Muldoon is a Pulitzer winner and is obviously a very skilled and crafty wordsmith. There's a funky rhythm and sportive inventiveness to his poems that's rather unique. For me, that was the main attraction.

[Patricia N. McLaughlin · Rating 2 out of 5]

This collection begins with a political rant and devolves into odd limericks, quatrains, and sundry rhyme schemes that combine an “alphabet of image” from artichokes to zinc and a span of history from Imperial Rome to “poshlost” Russia. Many of the poems need a cipher solver to decode the arcane references, allusions, and inside jokes that typify Muldoon’s work, which is often too pretentious for its own good.


Favorite Poems:
“Winslow Homer: The Veteran in a New Field”

[Lily · Rating 4 out of 5]

The pairing of these poems and the painting on the cover is a perfect way of showing how historically depicting they are, how beautiful in colours, and how straightforward with meaning. Indeed, historical information is passed down to the reader, losing oneself in contemplation.
The collection is very well written, and one can see the beauty of the craft behind each poem.

[Dan Cassino · Rating 4 out of 5]

I don’t think I’ve ever read a series of poems with such a marked contrast between the subject matter and the playfulness of the verse, and it makes for wonderful contrast. I found myself going back over poems to see how he did it. The subject matter can be a little too allusive at times for me, but the quality of the verse more than makes up for it.

[Jakub Sláma · Rating 2 out of 5]

didn't float my boat
Titanic was a boat
not in the fall
like not at all
in April 1912
what a fall
what
nah

didn't float my boat
we all float here
said Stephen King
who was born in the fall
what a call
what a fall
this is getting out of hand
which rhymes with bland
sorry
but y'all
not at all

[Kathy · Rating 5 out of 5]

Paul Muldoon presents a delightful collection of poems in Joy in Service on Rue Tagore. The assonance encourages the reader to read aloud. A few allusions may send them to Google. His appreciation of life's beauty and juxtapositions comes through. Is there another poet reminding readers of the wars of recent decades?

[Debs · Rating 3 out of 5]

4 stars execution, 1.5 stars enjoyment.

My inability to enjoy this collection stems from my own overwhelming ignorance. The historical allusions flew right over my head and I am unwilling to try and hunt every one of them down at this time. Im just not smart enough for this collection.

[Laurie Byro · Rating 2 out of 5]

It pains me to give this book such a low rating, as I generally adore Paul Muldoon's work, but I found this boring, playful but given the subject, inappropiate? Just generally a not so well thought our or crafted book. Sorry Paul, better luck next time.

[Mom · Rating 2 out of 5]

Clever and original poems but most of them just floated past me. Reading them aloud, they sounded interesting and meaningful, but in the end, I was unaffected. Perhaps I'm not knowledgeable or interested enough. The cover is inviting.

[Steven Severance · Rating 3 out of 5]

Hunting through many different cultural trash heaps - History, Myth, Literature, Music, Art , Botany, Lexigraphy, etc. our faithful chef/poet then staggers to the Cuisinart and sets it to puree.

[ilse · Rating 3 out of 5]

poems told almost like stories with various culturally significant allusions. i enjoyed the style and originality, but not something i would re read.

[Tim Morrissey · Rating 5 out of 5]

So Nietzsche, so Dao, so Irish in two places at once. Pretentious but thats the point.

[Richard Anderson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Clever, playful, sometimes mind bending.

[Eric · Rating 5 out of 5]

Lot of fun reviewing this book for Open Letters: https://openlettersreview.com/posts/j...