First Poems.

by James Merrill

Numbered Limited Edition.

Genres: Poetry

Hardcover

First published January 1, 1951

About the author

James Ingram Merrill was born on March 3, 1926, and died on February 6, 1995. From the mid-1950s on, he lived in Stonington, Connecticut, and for extended periods he also had houses in Athens and Key West. From The Black Swan (1946) through A Scattering of Salts (1995), he wrote twelve books of poems, ten of them published in trade editions, as well as The Changing Light at Sandover (1982). He also published two plays, The Immortal Husband (1956) and The Bait (1960); two novels, The Seraglio (1957, reissued in 1987) and The (Diblos) Notebook (1965, reissued 1994); a book of essays, interviews, and reviews, Recitative (1986); and a memoir, A Different Person (1993). Over the years, he was the winner of numerous awards for his poetry, including two National Book Awards, the Bollingen Prize, the Pulitzer Prize, and the first Bobbitt Prize from the Library of Congress. He was a chancellor of the Academy of American Poets and a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters.

Reviews

[Greg · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've only read a few books of poetry. But I'm just now beginning to appreciate this genre. "First Poems" has a lot to think about, and I'm sure I'll go back to this collection again. With these two lines, "Five-finger exercises: a compliment, To all accomplishment," I question if Merrill is addressing writers or reviewers, probably both. And is this another way to say "Any publicity is good publicity"? There is so much within these poems to ponder! I've already started Merrill's "The Country of a Thousand Years of Peace."

[Aaron · Rating 4 out of 5]

It seems late in life and I'm only now just dabbling with poetry. The pandemic has been a shock to the system; my reading diet has changed, probably because my attention span is worse than usual, and novels are suddenly a tough sell. Now I'm learning there's something intensely satisfying--at least in this fractured moment--about the little bursts of impenetrable imagery that populate these poems.

Merrill came as a recommendation from a novelist I adore (John Crowley), who mentioned in an interview his affection for the lush density (I'm probably making that up) of James Merrill and John Ashbery. Being a philistine, I found the names didn't mean much, but I added them to the exploration pile and here we are. I now own a beautiful copy of James Merrill's Collected Poems. It leaves out The Changing Light at Sandover, his epic Ouija-board odyssey, but this thing is still quite the chonker--just shy of 900 pages. First Poems is the first of 12 collections included. Lots to do, much to read.

Chronological consumption seems reasonable, though I know for poets this isn't always the easiest way to proceed. First Poems reads to these inexperienced eyes as highly technical, impossibly polished, and slightly distant, which isn't a complaint. The language crackles, and the line-level bursts of imagery are lush and gorgeous... and rather hard to parse as a whole. But I'm coming to terms with that! By embracing the indiscoverable, I am learning to enjoy the inscrutability of such a densely woven collage of language, or whatever it is we do when we read poetry we don't understand. I tend to plow through once and let all the pretty words wash through my mind, then go back and see what sense can be made of the mess. It only half works. But the process is fun and the language is infectious. There's clearly brilliance on display, and I'm training myself to see it. Onward and upward.

[Sam]

Not sure what to think of this one - super reflexive, guarded, but still somehow playful. Forging ahead to the next book.

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

Clear and elegant language, coupled with descriptive flow. Merrill’s early poems are much more accessible than his later poems, which became book-length and difficult to navigate.

[c · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Ah, people are flowers.
They fall helter-skelter
In their first witching weather
Or turn wry like thistles
Who, bristling together,
Brag of their shelters,
Insist that each latest
Is safest, is sweetest."

"But spirit loomed where most we saw
Body"

It's hard to believe that Merrill's earliest work is so accomplished, and harder still to explain the nosedive in quality that follows in the next few collections. There are some really polished ones here: the oft-cited "The Black Swan", "The Broken Bowl", "Four Little Poems", "Variations and Elegy: White Stag, Black Bear", and "The Grape Cure" being standouts. There are ungainly rhymes or abrupt halts that grind a bit as well, but these moments are brief and far between.