Stevie Smith is among the most popular British poets of the twentieth century. Her poem “Not Waving but Drowning” has been widely anthologized, and her life was celebrated in the classic 1978 movie Stevie. This new and updated edition of Stevie Smith’s collected poems includes hundreds of works from her thirty-five-year career. The Smith scholar Will May collects poems and illustrations from published volumes, provides fascinating details about their provenance, and describes the various versions Smith presented. Satirical, mischievous, teasing, disarming, Smith’s poems take readers from comedy to tragedy and back again, while her line drawings are by turns unsettling and beguiling.
Contents: A good time was had by all (1937) -- Tender only to one (1938) -- Mother, what is man? (1942) -- Harold's leap (1950) -- Not waving but drowning (1957) -- Selected poems (1962) -- The frog prince and other poems (1966) -- Scorpion and other poems (1972) -- Appendices: I. uncollected poems -- II. Unpublished poems.
There is something delightful about a poet who writes ... prosaically. Smith writes little poems that begin with banalities that turn into nuanced truths; out of trivialities, she fashions precious little gems of originality and significance. She is not a poet to be dismissed lightly, despite all indications to the contrary: her little rhymes which sometimes seem to verge on the very edge of doggerel turn into luminous thoughts on religion and death, two of her favourite subjects of dissection.
While she wrote most frequently about these, there is quite a body of work made up of wry commentary on duty, marriage. One of my favourites of these is:
The Octopus
Darling little Tom and Harry, When time comes for your to marry, Lullaby, Mother will be close at hand, Close at hand
Little girlies, you who marry Darling Tom and darling Harry By and by Understand Mother will be close at hand Close at hand
She is an easy poet to like, her intelligence and bright wit beckon the reader to read one more ... and just one more after that, trying to follow the path of her capricious and ingenious mind.
She thought of herself as quite an average kind of poet:
All poetry has to do is to make a strong communication. All the poet has to do is listen. The poet is not an important fellow. There will always be another poet.
... but I would have to differ and say, she was quite an uncommon and perceptive one.
Such uniquely wonderful poetry - I can't believe I hadn't heard of Stevie Smith before my degree led e to her beautiful and fascinating work. The line drawing illustrations Smith accompanies her poetry match the awkwardness of the poetics, and elevate the poems to a dimension somewhere between nonsense and fairytales, giving the impression of disorder whilst maintaining enormous control over rhyme, metre, and rhythm. Incredible.
I will admit to skimming this because when you put ALL of Stevie Smith's poems in one book, that's a lot of poems. Luckily they retain much of their original line-drawn, quirky artwork, and the entire collection feels like Stevie Smith through and through.
If you read Smith through the context of her era, some of the ideas in these poems may be more surprising. She was born in 1902 and died in 1971, and some of her earlier poems are quite daring and full of sarcasm and independence (thank goodness.) There are also a lot of silly little poems, but overall they range widely in tone and length.
In November of 1962, three months before her death, Sylvia Plath wrote to Stevie Smith: 'I better say straight out that I am an addict of your poetry, a desperate Smith addict.' Guess what? I am too.
I like the editor's comment that Smith's poetry "claims then disavows kinship far and wide.' Disavowal is a very powerfully felt sentiment in her works.
I wanted to get beyond her most famous poem 'Not Waving but Drowning' which is what brought me to this book.
When the bitterness is mixed with whimsy, I think she is at her best. Not because bitterness isn't warranted but because her lines are the most inspired when they undermine the world with the off-handedly absurd.
The Hat is definitely my favourite.
She makes great observations on the banality of every day moments and I quite liked 'Emily writes such a good letter'.
I also like how she turns quaint, pithy rhyme schemes into a way of critiquing the lack of critical reflection in England's view of itself, as in 'The Days of Yore'.
او از ترانه های عامیانه کودکان و وزنهای فلکلور در شعرش بسیار استفاده کرده است. طنز، شیطنت و بازیگوشی های کودکانه ای با کلمات در کارش دیده می شود. سیلویا پلات خودش را معتاد به خواندن اشعاراستیوی اسمیت می دانست. استیوی اسمیت در شعرهایش دنیایی مالیخولیایی را به تصویر می کشد و نوعی افسردگی و گرایش به مرگ در آثارش مشاهده می شود .اسمیت از تومور مغزی درگذشت.
شعری "دست تکان نمی داد چراکه غرق شده بود" یکی از ده شعر مشهور در بریتانیاست. او در زمینه ادبیات داستانی هم دارای آثار ارزشمندی ست.
رُزا جمالی، شاعر، نویسنده، نمایشنامه نویس، مترجم، پژوهشگر و منتقد ادبیست. از او تا کنون بیش از پانزده عنوان کتاب در زمینههای مختلف منتشر شده است. او دانش آموخته ی کارشناسی ادبیات نمایشی از دانشکده سینما تئاتر دانشگاه هنر و کارشناسی ارشد ادبیات انگلیسی از دانشگاه تهران است.
So a person can come along like a thief—pretty!— Stealing a look, pinching the sound and feel, Lick the icicle broken from the bank And still say nothing at all, only cry pretty.
Cry pretty, pretty, pretty and you’ll be able Very soon not even to cry pretty And so be delivered entirely from humanity This is prettiest of all, it is very pretty.
A fascinating collection of poems and illustrations, that tells some harsh things in a childish kind of way. It’s awkward and I’m saying it as a compliment.
I slowly picked away at this book for months before I suddenly caught the Stevie Smith bug. After that, I finished the last 500 pages in 4 days; I just could not put the book down. What can I say? She is very fun– basically Shel Silverstein for adults.
Once again, for me, The Emperor Has No Clothes. I was eager to read this much-praised volume of Smith's poetry.
Out of 700 pages, I bookmarked less than 20 poems.
It's not that I dislike her disdainful and sarcastic view of humanity. But perhaps she should have written...I don't know, plays? essays? or actually her drawings are quite nice...she might have done much better as a cartoonist. As a poet--just doesn't work for me. The rhythm and rhyme are both clunky, for one. And it's not really that amusing or clever.
And really, 700 pages? That's too much for almost anyone's work to stand up to. this is not a major poet by anyone's standards, and her work just can't take that much weight.