This collection of shorter poems won the National Book Critics Circle Award in 1981. Of this volume, the noted critic Harold Bloom has written, " A Coast of Trees represents A. R. Ammons at his strongest and most eloquent in the lyric mode. The book is an achievement fully comparable to his Uplands and Briefings . Among the poems likely to assume a permanent place in the Ammonsian (and American) canon are the majestic title lyric and 'Swells,' 'Easter Morning,' 'Keepsake,' 'Givings,' and 'Persistences.' Again Ammons has confirmed his vital continuities with the central Whitmanian tradition of our poetry, and his crucial place in that panoply."
Archie Randolph Ammons was born outside Whiteville, North Carolina, on February 18, 1926. He started writing poetry aboard a U. S. Navy destroyer escort in the South Pacific. After completing service in World War II, he attended Wake Forest University and the University of California at Berkeley.
His honors included the Academy's Wallace Stevens Award, the Poetry Society of America's Robert Frost Medal, the Ruth Lilly Prize, and fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation, the MacArthur Foundation, and the American Academy of Arts and Letters.
He lived in Ithaca, New York, where he was Goldwin Smith Professor of Poetry at Cornell University until his retirement in 1998. Ammons died on February 25, 2001.
A lot of these poems fell somewhat flat for me but the collection made up for it (at least in part) with its elegant seasonal structure and a few standouts. Favorites: In Memoriam Mae Nobblitt Swells Wiring An Improvisation for the Stately Dwelling
A. R. Ammons was one of my poetry teacher’s poetry teacher. And this collection is so connected to nature, philosophy, death, impermanence, permanence, and how we are “emptied full.”
#sealeychallenge #arammons
From “Persistences”
still, from our own ruins, we thrash out the snakes and mice, shoo the lean ass away, and plant a row of something: we know, we say to the wind, but we will come back again and back: in debris we make a holding as insubstantial and permanent as mirage.
Some worthwhile passages, but fewer and more far between that I had hoped for. Lesson learned: stick with complications of “Selected” or “Greatest” works when satiating one’s curiosity for a new and unfamiliar poet.
So I read this whole book. Ammons' 'naive' style wore me down after a while. Maybe I'm in a middle ground -- reading the poems in bulk so they don't seem as fresh; not having read close enough to see the breakthroughs each represent.
Here's Stephen Burt's note on Ammons's style.
"The German poet, playwright, and critic Friedrich Schiller thought there were two kinds of poets: 'sentimental' and 'naive' (and neither term, for Schiller, was an insult). Sentimental poets, he said, are self-conscious and retrospective; they 'look for lost nature' in the people and things they write about. Their characteristic works, Schiller believed, sound carefully wrought, conclusive, even if written at high speed. Naive poets, on the other hand, seem to 'be nature'—poetry seems to come out of them as wind from the sky, or leaves from the trees, as if it were their native speech. Naive poets often sound as if they never revise, even when we know they've worked hard on many drafts; their poetry seems to flow and does not want to end.... A.R. Ammons (1926-2001) was in Schiller's sense the most 'naive' of America's very good poets. His poems, written over nearly 50 years, include almost every kind of speech-act a person can say, from shrugs to prophecies, and they sound spontaneous even when it's clear they reflect decades of thought."
A quickly-read collection, these poems are grounded in nature imagery. No poem seemed to jump off the page to me that strongly and without a consistently explored theme, I felt that the poems needed something more in terms of structure or style. Perhaps, I needed to have spent more time with these.