Henri Cole pins the complexities of aging and the mystery of the passage of time to the page.
The Other Love is most of all a reflection on aging and the passing of time. It is here that the struggle between form and chaos is most poignantly palpable in Henri Cole's ravishing new book.
The Other Love is also a way of seeing the world, an attitude more than an emotion, a love of things and people as they are, and of being open to the beauty and mysteries of the world, despite a constant awareness of violence, particularly an American violence. As the Nobel laureate Louise Glück wrote, “Here indeed is a triumphant achievement from a consummate artist.”
Henri Cole was born in Fukuoka, Japan and raised in Virginia. He has published many collections of poetry and received numerous awards for his work, including the Jackson Poetry Prize, the Kingsley Tufts Award, the Rome Prize, the Berlin Prize, the Ambassador Book Award, the Lenore Marshall Award, and the Medal in Poetry from the American Academy of Arts and Letters. His most recent books are Orphic Paris, a memoir (New York Review Books), and Gravity and Center: Selected Sonnets, 1994-2022 (Farrar, Straus, Giroux). From 2010 to 2014, he was poetry editor of The New Republic. He teaches at Claremont McKenna College and lives in Boston.
Phenomenal collection, not one dud. Deals gently, flushed with senses, preoccupied with mortality. I had the pleasure of hearing him read a few of these at Skidmore College on July 17th, and what a cherished gift of memory that occasion has become. Do not rush these, hold them on your tongue and savor them like communion. Take this collection to a park and read it aloud to your friends. Carve the memory deep for years to come. These poems are for bruised people, the ones thinking of death, tender always, forever heartbroken by the passage of time but still managing to find light and love. Do not chase a meaning or revelation, feel the feeling.
So hard to choose my favorites, but the ones that stand out for me are: The Cat Metamorphosed into a Man, Lament for the Maker, Autumn Fern, Winter Solstice, Horace, Ode to Hearing, and Mouse in the Grocery.
Thank you Netgalley, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, and Henri Cole for sending me this advanced review copy for free. I am leaving this review voluntarily.
I really enjoyed this one. It's a good mix of subjects from political, social, and world events, to what goes on in every day life. The little bits of sarcasm here and there were a lot of fun. These poems are not happy and upbeat, but the feelings are so real because of it. Everyday life isn't always great, and sometimes bad things happen. You still have to go on with your day anyway.
I picked up The Other Love: Poems by Henri Cole hoping to be moved. I read poems occasionally, and what usually draws me in is the emotional pull — that feeling when a line hits you right in the heart. Unfortunately, this collection didn’t quite do that for me.
Cole’s work is described as “an attitude more than emotion,” and I think that’s where we didn’t connect. The poems are carefully crafted and thoughtful, but they felt distant to me, like the words were there, but they didn’t stir anything. That’s not to say it’s a bad book, just that it didn’t resonate with me personally.
Poetry is such a personal experience, and I know this collection will speak deeply to others. But for me, it left me a bit disappointed. Still, I appreciate the craft and the themes of aging and time — they just didn’t land emotionally the way I hoped.
Thank you to Netgalley, the author and the publisher for providing me with an advance copy of this book to review.
Thank you to NetGalley and Farrar, Straus and Giroux for the E-ARC! This E-ARC was sent to me in exchange for an honest review.
I have a problem with modern authors using words like "fart" and "poop" and gross, childish words in their poems as a new age type of poetry theme. It makes everything they write seem less definite, like they aren't even really trying. New age poetry can be beautiful and can be done well, but when an author uses language like this, it downgrades the entire collection.
I also couldn't find any emotion in these poems. They all lacked something that made them spark and come alive. Maybe I was in the wrong headspace because of the language, but I couldn't feel anything while reading.
The human experience is so full of pain and happiness. I feel like as I was reading each poem I may not have experienced some of the events the author is describing, but I can feel the feelings felt in that moment in my bones
“The silverfish in our house were morbidly obese” “Don’t be a herd of one”
However, I think about halfway through the second part and all of the third part there wasn’t as much emotion and I wasn’t drawn to the poems the same way I was drawn to the first part. I liked the mix of politics, home, and life.
beautiful as always, but a little lesser for how annoyed with contemporary thinking henri cole can be :) some of his tenderest lines must be here, such as these two: "now my wrists are as thick as magnolia branches / now i am part of the scenery"