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Where Have You Been?: Selected Essays
An adventure with a roving genius of literary criticismMichael Hofmann—poet, translator, and intellectual vagabond—has established himself as one of the keenest critics of contemporary literature. Safely nestled between the covers of Where Have You Been?, he offers a hand to guide us and an encouraging whisper in our ear, leading us on a trip through what to read, how to think, and why to like. And while these essays bear sharp insights that will help us revisit writers with a fresh eye, they are also a story of love between a reader and his treasured books. In the thirty essays collected here, Hofmann brings his signature wit and sustained critical mastery to a poetic, penetrating, and candid discussion of the writers and artists of the last hundred years. Here are the indispensable poets without which contemporary poetry would be unimaginable—Elizabeth Bishop, "the poets' poets' poet," the "ghostly skill" of Robert Lowell, and the man he calls the greatest English poet since Shakespeare, Ted Hughes. But he also illumines the despair of John Berryman and the antics of poetry's bogeyman, Frederick Seidel. In essays on art that are themselves works of art, Hofmann's agile and brilliant mind explores a panoply of subjects from the mastery of translation to the best day job for a poet. What these diverse gems share are the critic's insatiable curiosity and great charm. Where Have You Been? is an unmissable journey with literature's most irresistible flaneur.
304 pages, ebook
First published November 11, 2014
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194 people want to read
About the author
Michael Hofmann
261 books70 followersMichael Hofmann is a German-born, British-educated poet and translator. He is the author of two books of essays and five books of poems, most recently One Lark, One Horse. Among his translations are plays by Bertolt Brecht and Patrick Süskind; the selected poems of Durs Grünbein and Gottfried Benn; and novels and stories by, among others, Franz Kafka; Peter Stamm; his father, Gert Hofmann; and fourteen books by Joseph Roth. He has translated several books for NYRB Classics, including Alfred Döblin’s Berlin Alexanderplatz, Jakob Wassermann’s My Marriage, and Gert Ledig’s Stalin Front, Kurt Tucholsky’s Castle Gripsholm, and edited The Voyage That Never Ends, an anthology of writing by Malcolm Lowry. He teaches in the English Department at the University of Florida.
He is the son of German novelist Gert Hofmann (1931-1993).
He is the son of German novelist Gert Hofmann (1931-1993).
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Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews
October 22, 2015
I was rather rudely shocked by the first part of this book. I knew Hofmann entirely from his translations of German poets (e.g., Gottfried Benn) and his glorious destruction of Stefan Zweig in the TLS (which is reprinted here, and deserves to be re-read; surely one of the greatest hit-jobs in all of reviewery).
So imagine my dismay when I learned that Hofmann is actually a devotee of Robert Lowell and Elizabeth Bishop, James Schuyler and Robert Frost, among others. By far the longest pieces here are devoted to Bishop and Lowell. Something is up: why is Hofmann's taste so excellent in German, and so dubious in English? It's not that Lowell and Bishop don't have their qualities. They're both good poets. But to set one's direction by them, in this, AD 2000+? Really?
Anyway, this volume disappointed me, because I was expecting virulent attacks on the one hand, and appreciations of cranks, on the other. But the only attacks were on Zweig, which I'd already read, and a quickie on Grass, which is too obvious to need repeating.
There are some nice appreciations of cranks, though. Seidel, Bunting, Murray, Bernhard, Walser... much better.
The problem with these essays is that you need to be in a very particular position with regard to any author before the essay and him or her can get any purchase on you. I don't need to read 20 pages about Lowell or Bishop. I don't want to read any pages on Hughes or Graham. Only essays about those authors I already love (Berryman, Bernhard, Bunting), or those I know literally nothing about (Kees, Hamilton, Solie) were interesting.
This is mainly due to Hofmann's style, which can be effective (as in the Zweig piece) but rather too often seems like a random cutting-and-pasting of facts or lines that stick in his mind:
"You get a very good set of a very good writer's letters. Graham was bracingly frank... the sentences are often wonderful... there are fine puns... there are some extraordinary documents of friendship and solicitude...", with examples or extensions in the ellipses: that's five paragraph masquerading as a paragraph, and doesn't make for enjoyable reading. This is, perhaps, a poet's problem. Novelists, I imagine, aren't much good at enjambment; why should poets be good at paragraphing? And the examples are too short to tell a reader anything.
If only Hofmann would stick to reviewing books he hates by authors he loathes.
On the upside, the best thing a collection of essays like this can do is kill some time (which it did) and encourage a reader to buy poets' books (which it did: Seidel and the behemoth 'Australian Poetry Since 1788.' Both have already proven their worth).
So imagine my dismay when I learned that Hofmann is actually a devotee of Robert Lowell and Elizabeth Bishop, James Schuyler and Robert Frost, among others. By far the longest pieces here are devoted to Bishop and Lowell. Something is up: why is Hofmann's taste so excellent in German, and so dubious in English? It's not that Lowell and Bishop don't have their qualities. They're both good poets. But to set one's direction by them, in this, AD 2000+? Really?
Anyway, this volume disappointed me, because I was expecting virulent attacks on the one hand, and appreciations of cranks, on the other. But the only attacks were on Zweig, which I'd already read, and a quickie on Grass, which is too obvious to need repeating.
There are some nice appreciations of cranks, though. Seidel, Bunting, Murray, Bernhard, Walser... much better.
The problem with these essays is that you need to be in a very particular position with regard to any author before the essay and him or her can get any purchase on you. I don't need to read 20 pages about Lowell or Bishop. I don't want to read any pages on Hughes or Graham. Only essays about those authors I already love (Berryman, Bernhard, Bunting), or those I know literally nothing about (Kees, Hamilton, Solie) were interesting.
This is mainly due to Hofmann's style, which can be effective (as in the Zweig piece) but rather too often seems like a random cutting-and-pasting of facts or lines that stick in his mind:
"You get a very good set of a very good writer's letters. Graham was bracingly frank... the sentences are often wonderful... there are fine puns... there are some extraordinary documents of friendship and solicitude...", with examples or extensions in the ellipses: that's five paragraph masquerading as a paragraph, and doesn't make for enjoyable reading. This is, perhaps, a poet's problem. Novelists, I imagine, aren't much good at enjambment; why should poets be good at paragraphing? And the examples are too short to tell a reader anything.
If only Hofmann would stick to reviewing books he hates by authors he loathes.
On the upside, the best thing a collection of essays like this can do is kill some time (which it did) and encourage a reader to buy poets' books (which it did: Seidel and the behemoth 'Australian Poetry Since 1788.' Both have already proven their worth).
September 10, 2017
I only read one chapter (my intention from the beginning), the one titled "'Sharp Biscuit': Some Thoughts on Translating". I wanted to get some ideas on translating poetry that I can apply to my own translations of Indonesian poets. And I did. Hofmann hedges away from the accepted ideas that a translator should not exist, that a translator should not be seen or heard, should just be "a plate of glass". I think anyone who has tried to translate something from another language knows this is impossible, and that this is mostly an expectation of readers. As Hofmann says, the job of a translator is to be "a ventriloquist's ventriloquist", to say (in another language) what the author cannot. He encourages the literal translation of idioms and expressions from the source language, as well as the use of obscure English expressions or expressions from English dialects that are not known to the primary audience, he even encourages the use of expressions from the translator's personal history or words that the translator has made up on the spot; the caveat being that these approaches are permissible as long as they have meaning to the reader. Frustration with translated works arises in readers as "an angry impatience with the idea of there even being a translator", as if a translator somehow violates the author's autonomy in zer creative output. The dictum to be faithful to the original is more about the reader's trust (or distrust) of the translator and zer interpretation than it is about integrity. It's about politics. Every reading is a translation. Every translation will produce a (slightly) different meaning because there is never only one creative being involved.
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November 11, 2023I took Hofmann's creative nonfiction class and he is one of my favorite professors! This book was unlike anything I've read previously, it being a collection of reviews/biographies of various poets, with a couple other topics sprinkled in. I was unfamiliar with most of the poets Hofmann writes about, so I approached this book looking to study Hofmann's style, the way he writes about writing, the way he writes about people, and hopefully discover some interesting poets to explore further on my own.
I really enjoy Hofmann's writing style. He is clever, poigniant, creative and accurate in descriptions, and unexpectedly funny. Sometimes he is pretentious, sometimes sarcastic, sometimes childish. I highlighted so many fantastic sentences and phrases that I wish I could carry in my pockets. I notice that Hofmann uses a lot of metaphors related to physics/math. Now I feel inspired to use unexpected descriptions in my own writing!
Here are a few lines I enjoyed:
-"...to go behind the backs of words, to tap for hollowness..."
-"The enzyme that converted pain to poetry went away or gave up."
-"Both seemed to enjoy writing English like a foreign language."
-"It is like reading something still wet, not set, not combed, not furnished or furbished with signs, explanations, directives."
When I took Hofmann's class, and my classmates and I subjected our work to his criticism (or subjected Hofmann to our work), I heard rumors of his apparent knack for scathing reviews, and I was delighted to find the most prime example in the Stefan Zweig essay, in which Hofmann spares not even the poet's suicide note from criticism. Youch! But most of Hofmann's reviews are positive; the negativity is mostly reserved for Nazis or bad translators. I am definitely interested in reading some more poetry now, specifically from Elizabeth Bishop, Adam Zagajewski, and Karen Solie.
My favorite essay by far is "'Sharp Biscuit': Some Thoughts on Translating". It is fun, personal, thoughtful, and changed my personal perspective on translation, which I had always thought of as more science than art. Also, it contained many more Hofmann quips that I loved:
-"It's a question of the force of the gift, the pounds per square inch of the Muse."
-"The matching of my two languages is an inner process, the setting of a broken bone, a graft, the healing of a wound."
-"Chocolates carry warnings that they may have been manufactured using equipment that has hosted peanuts; why not translations too?"
-"I am, if you like, a ventriloquist's ventriloquist."
I really enjoy Hofmann's writing style. He is clever, poigniant, creative and accurate in descriptions, and unexpectedly funny. Sometimes he is pretentious, sometimes sarcastic, sometimes childish. I highlighted so many fantastic sentences and phrases that I wish I could carry in my pockets. I notice that Hofmann uses a lot of metaphors related to physics/math. Now I feel inspired to use unexpected descriptions in my own writing!
Here are a few lines I enjoyed:
-"...to go behind the backs of words, to tap for hollowness..."
-"The enzyme that converted pain to poetry went away or gave up."
-"Both seemed to enjoy writing English like a foreign language."
-"It is like reading something still wet, not set, not combed, not furnished or furbished with signs, explanations, directives."
When I took Hofmann's class, and my classmates and I subjected our work to his criticism (or subjected Hofmann to our work), I heard rumors of his apparent knack for scathing reviews, and I was delighted to find the most prime example in the Stefan Zweig essay, in which Hofmann spares not even the poet's suicide note from criticism. Youch! But most of Hofmann's reviews are positive; the negativity is mostly reserved for Nazis or bad translators. I am definitely interested in reading some more poetry now, specifically from Elizabeth Bishop, Adam Zagajewski, and Karen Solie.
My favorite essay by far is "'Sharp Biscuit': Some Thoughts on Translating". It is fun, personal, thoughtful, and changed my personal perspective on translation, which I had always thought of as more science than art. Also, it contained many more Hofmann quips that I loved:
-"It's a question of the force of the gift, the pounds per square inch of the Muse."
-"The matching of my two languages is an inner process, the setting of a broken bone, a graft, the healing of a wound."
-"Chocolates carry warnings that they may have been manufactured using equipment that has hosted peanuts; why not translations too?"
-"I am, if you like, a ventriloquist's ventriloquist."
October 21, 2017
I loved this book because Hofman's claim to fame is translation from German, and he sprinkles references to German authors and actual German through out. I also loved it because I realized I had a set opinion on Ted Hughes, Robert Lowell, and Elizabeth Bishop. This book made me rethink that and go back to the poet's with a clearer eye and a more open mind. Hofman also reinforced my appreciation of others like Frederick Seidel and Berryman. His digressions on Australian poetry and poets was nice. He manages to convey joy and excitement like a impressionable novitiate while wrapped in the logic and wisdom of Grand Master.
June 27, 2017
Haven't read all of this, but I know enough to know it's very good. Books like this, however, I prefer to read in parts, rather than as a whole. Hoffman mostly reviews poetry and the writing, though prose, is often poetic.
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August 30, 2025skimmed
July 11, 2024
Michael Hoffman gives rare, hard-earned insights into the way poetic form is coopted by writers to distill their singular visions. John Ashbery and Ted Hughes get special treatment along with Robert Lowell.
March 2, 2021
*3.5 stars
“...the urgency and narrowing purpose of midlife, what the Germans call ‘Torschlusspanik’ (fear of the gate closing)” (17).
“...Lowell was prescribed lithium, which made it a little easier perhaps to control the symptoms. He was upset and bemused by the disproportionate effect of what he termed the ‘lack of a little salt in the brain’” (77).
“Lowell was able to do this: to suggest meaning, but not insist on it or fussily encode it” (80-81).
“At the same time, the writing never loses its plausibility; it never looks like Roget’s, never proliferates into verbiage, never makes mere mud” (86).
“‘He saw the stewardess back down the aisle/ Smiling at seat belts’” (92).
“...never arch, and is sometimes sublime: ‘As bees summarise the garden...’” (172-173).
“Of course, I know anthologies aren’t for reading straight through, any more than cars are for test-driving or cosmetics are for lab mice, but what else can you do?” (178).
“‘...rather/the worse for war...’” (181).
“...a friend’s obituary of one was turned down…” (182). *That’s rough.
“...have become part of my mental furniture” (220).
“Things may be out of kilter--Chekhov and Yeats are largely about that--but they still believe in kilter” (245).
“...and, who knows, probably logged his logs” (263).
“The author is blowing into a wounded balloon” (280).
“...the urgency and narrowing purpose of midlife, what the Germans call ‘Torschlusspanik’ (fear of the gate closing)” (17).
“...Lowell was prescribed lithium, which made it a little easier perhaps to control the symptoms. He was upset and bemused by the disproportionate effect of what he termed the ‘lack of a little salt in the brain’” (77).
“Lowell was able to do this: to suggest meaning, but not insist on it or fussily encode it” (80-81).
“At the same time, the writing never loses its plausibility; it never looks like Roget’s, never proliferates into verbiage, never makes mere mud” (86).
“‘He saw the stewardess back down the aisle/ Smiling at seat belts’” (92).
“...never arch, and is sometimes sublime: ‘As bees summarise the garden...’” (172-173).
“Of course, I know anthologies aren’t for reading straight through, any more than cars are for test-driving or cosmetics are for lab mice, but what else can you do?” (178).
“‘...rather/the worse for war...’” (181).
“...a friend’s obituary of one was turned down…” (182). *That’s rough.
“...have become part of my mental furniture” (220).
“Things may be out of kilter--Chekhov and Yeats are largely about that--but they still believe in kilter” (245).
“...and, who knows, probably logged his logs” (263).
“The author is blowing into a wounded balloon” (280).
September 17, 2015
I wasn't familiar with a couple of the poets Hofmann discussed in Part One of this collection (Basil Bunting?) but Hofmann's language was something to relish nonetheless. Some sentences I read only for their cadences and perfect balance, and to participate in his infectious enthusiasm for the word. He has turned me on to the poetry of W.S. Graham . . .
Part Two consisted of longer pieces that moved beyond poetry criticism. The essay on translation was feisty and I enjoyed how he criticized other translators by contrasting their results (the most derisive comparison I'm thinking of might have been in another essay, but Hofmann puts his multiglot knowledge to use in all his writing). Other highlights: The scathing criticism of Gunter Grass for the delinquent, callow, and insufficient revelations of how he spent his boyhood . . And the Stefan Zweig piece, which was so over-the-top I almost wondered if it was facetious, but I don't think so. I just had no idea Stefan Zweig was so reviled by his fellow writers.
Part Two consisted of longer pieces that moved beyond poetry criticism. The essay on translation was feisty and I enjoyed how he criticized other translators by contrasting their results (the most derisive comparison I'm thinking of might have been in another essay, but Hofmann puts his multiglot knowledge to use in all his writing). Other highlights: The scathing criticism of Gunter Grass for the delinquent, callow, and insufficient revelations of how he spent his boyhood . . And the Stefan Zweig piece, which was so over-the-top I almost wondered if it was facetious, but I don't think so. I just had no idea Stefan Zweig was so reviled by his fellow writers.
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November 13, 2015"Acts of English literacy as curative consistently run throughout Where Have You Been?, a compilation of twenty-five accounts illustrating the intensely personal relationship the writer shares with the written word. . . . As with all healing, there is pain. Most tellingly, the first section shows the writers themselves as they piece together the shards of their own lives through writing." - Andrea Dawn Bryant, Leipzig, Germany
This book was reviewed in the November 2015 issue of World Literature Today. Read the full review by visiting our website: http://www.worldliteraturetoday.org/2...
This book was reviewed in the November 2015 issue of World Literature Today. Read the full review by visiting our website: http://www.worldliteraturetoday.org/2...
July 13, 2015
Hofmann is a great, great translator and this gives him huge credibility as a critic. He's super-well-read and a great critic: though I think I would enjoy this more if he'd cast his net more broadly, in this book, at least, a lot of the articles are about poets I'm probably not actually going to get to...
March 30, 2016
I’m very glad I read this. The writing is amazing. The essays themselves are…well…odd and interesting. The author offers essays on writers I know and writers I don’t know. When he is writing about poets I learn a lot. He seems to love poetry and poets and his writing about them reveals many surprises to me. I read to learn and I learned a lot from this interesting collection of essays.
May 2, 2016
sort of hofmann's *what to read* list. not a book i'd read cover to cover, but valuable for his take on several poets that may have escaped your notice. added several titles/authors to my "to read" list based on these essays and so, for that, it's worth looking at.
January 11, 2017
his wit is a marvel of maniac sincerity, his courage an exemplary cure against critical timidity, and his bloodlettings and re-dismemberings of the bloated corpses of the canon - well, canonical. read him
Displaying 1 - 14 of 14 reviews