A landmark work dedicated to the author's partner, this set of linked poems explores love and loss through the lens of myth, faith, and art. Heavily influenced by the work of C. P. Cavafy, Plante's paen to his beloved will stay with readers long after the last verse.
David Plante (born 1940) made his name as a novelist with his first book, The Ghost of Henry James (1970), then with a dozen other novels including the Francoeur Trilogy (1978-82)–The Family, The Woods, and The Country–a story of the complex relations within a family and between the family’s French-Canadian culture and the New England Anglophone world around them. He made his name as memoirist with Difficult Women (1983), about his vexed and deep friendships with Jean Rhys, Sonia Orwell, and Germaine Greer, then with Becoming a Londoner (2013) and Worlds Apart (2015), both rich in gossip and in psychological insight about famous and infamous figures in the literary and artistic worlds. He now lives in Lucca, Italy.
In 1965 he met the poet and editor Nikos Stangos, with whom he lived until Stangos’ death in 2004. In their life together, Plante learned to read and write Greek poetry, and absorbed the profoundly straightforward and unmetaphoric style of C. P. Cavafy. David Plante’s verse tribute to Nikos Stangos, The Death of a Greek Lover, is his first published book of poems—a sequence of separate poems that combines to make a single long poem.
In his novels, David Plante perfected his technique of combining exact observation of social and psychological detail with an implicit but unmistakable sense of transcendent meaning. That technique is everywhere in the clear intensity of his poems, which are simultaneously direct, intense expressions of love and loss, and speculative explorations of what poetry, myth, and faith can say about such things. The Death of a Greek Lover is as moving as it is artful.
The son of Albina Bisson and Aniclet Plante, he is of both French-Canadian and North American Indian descent.He is a graduate of Boston College and the Université catholique de Louvain. He has been published extensively including in The New Yorker and The Paris Review and various literary magazines. He is a fellow of the Royal Society of Literature. Among his honours are: Henfield Fellow, University of East Anglia, 1975; British Arts Council Grant, 1977; Guggenheim Fellowship, 1983; American Academy and Institute of Arts and Letters Award, 1983. He is an Ambassador for the LGBT Committee of the New York Public Library. His voluminous diary is kept in the Berg Collection of the New York Public Library. His papers are kept in the library of The University of Tulsa, Oklahoma. He is a retired professor of creative writing at Columbia University. His novels examine the spiritual in a variety of contexts, but notably in the milieu of large, working-class, Catholic families of French Canadian background. His male characters range from openly gay to sexually ambiguous and questioning. He has been a writer-in-residence at Gorki Institute of Literature (Moscow), the Université du Québec à Montréal, Adelphi University, King's College, the University of Cambridge, Tulsa University, and the University of East Anglia. Plante’s work, for which he has been nominated for the National Book Award, includes Difficult Women (1983), a memoir of his relationships with Jean Rhys, Sonia Orwell, and Germaine Greer and the widely-praised Francoeur Trilogy--The Family (1978), The Country (1980) and The Woods (1982). His most recent book is a memoir of Nikos Stangos, his partner of forty years, The Pure Lover (2009). The papers of his former partner, Nikos Stangos (1936-2004), are in The Princeton University Library, the Program in Hellenic Studies. Plante lives in London, Lucca Italy, and Athens Greece. He has dual citizenship, American and British. Considered to be a writer's writer and having lived for so many years among the artistic elite, David's personal memories are seen by many as high cultural history.
"The plain words carved HE LOVED No one knowing who you were, Nor whom you loved"
"Love love? Do I have to know? Yes, I have to know, have to know what survives Vicissitudes, what holds the whole together, What does not die, I have to believe"
"I was drunk with wine and love, If this is wrong, then I've done wrong"
"All things rise together, all things fall together, As stars rise into constellations and fall from constellations And what we call birth is holding on, And what we call death is letting go"
"As a God by those who come close For a blessing, and by those at a distance, Diseased and in pain, calling out for a cure"
"You wrote in a poem, your love was as if an idea which you were wholly committed to, and which, if you betrayed, would be a betrayal of everything that you believed in.
You wrote that love was to you an inward necessity, clear and certain of itself, and beyond any need of proof, love most pure when you most longed for your lover with the agonising longing of necessity."
A deeply moving elegy woven with Greek mythology and touches of Catholicism exploring the grief centered on the emptiness left with the death of a beloved partner.
Personally, the quality of the poem takes a bit of a brief dip about 3/4th of the way into the text but resurfaces strong with a moving and reflective finish.
A hauntingly gorgeous epic poem about love and grief. Oh, the quiet sorrow carved from these words. Oh, the memories of a long and lasting love, held with such care. A lovely little book.