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Apprentice to the Flower Poet Z.
Apprentice to the Flower Poet Z. is about two women: Annabelle, an aspiring young poet from the suburbs, and Z., the celebrated mentor who tries to hold her back. It’s no accident that their initials span the alphabet, as this hilarious book is about language, writing, and the appropriation of ideas. It is also about the high-wire relations between older and younger women, between reputation and aspiration.
“There is so much I wanted to learn from Z.,” Annabelle confesses in the opening chapter. Obsessed with the question “What is poetry?” Annabelle thinks her new job with the distinguished Flower Poet Z. will help her penetrate the answer. What is revealed to Annabelle instead are the secrets of Z.’s personal life—not least, her dysfunctional family, adulterous behavior, and professional tyranny. Meanwhile, Annabelle is charged with finding Z.’s favorite ink (“jet black, not midnight black, not shoeshine black”), buying prescription cat food for a cranky literary critic, and illegally beheading flowers in the New York Botanical Gardens—anything to preserve Z.’s “psychic space.”
As for what Annabelle learns about the literary world, much of it occurs in spite of Z.—in writing seminars where one-line poems are toiled over for years; in bed with her James Joyce–fixated lover, Harry Banks; at a confessional-poetry retreat at the home of Z.’s glamorous nemesis, Braun Brown. Still, Annabelle remains loyal to Z., until Z. egregiously crosses the line.
From Annabelle and Z. to the painfully obscure Miss Jane Elliot, Emily Dickinson, and Sylvia Plath, Debra Weinstein’s Apprentice to the Flower Poet Z. amounts to a joy ride through the world of poetry and the emergence of a great new comic voice.
From the Hardcover edition.
“There is so much I wanted to learn from Z.,” Annabelle confesses in the opening chapter. Obsessed with the question “What is poetry?” Annabelle thinks her new job with the distinguished Flower Poet Z. will help her penetrate the answer. What is revealed to Annabelle instead are the secrets of Z.’s personal life—not least, her dysfunctional family, adulterous behavior, and professional tyranny. Meanwhile, Annabelle is charged with finding Z.’s favorite ink (“jet black, not midnight black, not shoeshine black”), buying prescription cat food for a cranky literary critic, and illegally beheading flowers in the New York Botanical Gardens—anything to preserve Z.’s “psychic space.”
As for what Annabelle learns about the literary world, much of it occurs in spite of Z.—in writing seminars where one-line poems are toiled over for years; in bed with her James Joyce–fixated lover, Harry Banks; at a confessional-poetry retreat at the home of Z.’s glamorous nemesis, Braun Brown. Still, Annabelle remains loyal to Z., until Z. egregiously crosses the line.
From Annabelle and Z. to the painfully obscure Miss Jane Elliot, Emily Dickinson, and Sylvia Plath, Debra Weinstein’s Apprentice to the Flower Poet Z. amounts to a joy ride through the world of poetry and the emergence of a great new comic voice.
From the Hardcover edition.
272 pages, Paperback
First published January 20, 2004
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 44 reviews
December 29, 2013
Writing satire about the poetry world is like shooting similes in a barrel. Line for line, there's no more fertile subject than the black turtleneck crowd clutching their foundation-funded chapbooks in the student lounge.
A debut novel from Debra Weinstein scans this oeuvre with deflating wit. In fact, "Apprentice to the Flower Poet Z." should be required reading for anyone who uses the word "oeuvre." Annabelle, a wide-eyed undergraduate at New York University, opens the novel by telling us, "This is the story of how I came to momentary prominence in the world of poetry and, through a series of misunderstandings, destroyed my good name and became a nobody."
Annabelle's trajectory is propelled by her dream job: working as an assistant to the legendary Professor Z., author of "the first poetry book ever to land on a national bestseller list." Although the job involves far more stress than unstress, Annabelle comes to it like a pilgrim to the holiest of holies. Professor Z. wrote the flower poems that once saved Annabelle's life, and she's determined to savor every drop of nectar from the petals of Z.'s brilliance.
Perhaps one of the reasons Weinstein's book has been so well received is that so many book reviewers are survivors of graduate writing programs. Annabelle's cheery voice, so full of breathless wonder and unconscious satire, allows us to reexperience our lost innocence, while confirming what we suspected all along: We were better than those aloof professors we fawned over desperately.
The appeal here, though, is broader - broad enough to include anybody who appreciates the absurdity of intellectual pretension or the comedy of imperial bosses.
Z. admonishes Annabelle that "a keen eye is essential in a poet," but unfortunately, Annabelle is a better reader of verse than personality. With unflappable naiveté, she keeps wondering, "What is poetry?" while slaving away at Professor Z.'s menial assignments, such as finding just the prescribed shade of fountain pen ink. "I want the blackest ink you can find," Z. says with somber gravitas. "Jet black, not midnight black, not shoeshine black."
In this brilliant elegy to the abuse of subordinates, all of Z.'s requests rhyme with "absurd." She'll sign her letters only in a particular order.
She sends Annabelle back to the Salvation Army to paw through piles for her favorite pair of shoes. The buttons on her blazer must be replaced because she can't "live with the constant jangling." Several times, she castigates Annabelle for failing to keep sufficiently close watch on the supply of hand towels in the bathroom. "I like the paper to be thick and textured," Z. cautions. "The feel should be more cotton than paper."
"A less noble person would feel degraded," Annabelle says without missing a beat, "but I take Z.'s assignment as a challenge." In fact, she's flattered to be "the guardian of Z.'s psychic space," thrilled to be enjoying status unlike anything she's ever experienced before.
Typing Z.'s manuscripts, she can hardly believe that the master actually asks for her advice:
my arthritic half-moon, far-reaching thought (?), spine (?)
Before long, Professor Z. is asking Annabelle to steal flowers from public gardens around New York City and write descriptions of them for $2 a pop:
Wisteria: like hysteria, only it clings to a building
a bunch of purple flowers hiding a sturdy vine.
When her own couplets show up in Z.'s celebrated poetry, Annabelle is full of secret gratitude that she could help great art blossom. But her humiliation is rounded out by some particularly bizarre sexual abuse at the hands of another depressed graduate student whose mentor died and left him in eternal academic limbo.
What's sharpest about Weinstein's well-metered wit is the way she sinks down into this elite subculture. The whole shameful business has been presatirzed for decades, but Weinstein, a published poet herself, knows where all the bodies are buried. In the Rube Goldberg world of verse, academics nominate their sycophantic colleagues to serve as judges of poetry foundations where they can reciprocate by awarding prizes to those professors. And this leads to more prestigious departments of creative writing that can hire more friends who have favored them with glowing reviews in journals edited by their lovers.
Weinstein saves some of her most brilliant moments for scenes of the poetry workshop, a lush garden of posturing and veiled hostility. (If you've ever endured a poetry workshop, you may want to skip this section - could cause anapestic laughter.)
Even as her innocence fades into experience, Annabelle never grows bitter, and one suspects that Weinstein, despite the precision of her satire, hasn't fallen into that refrain either. To the last beat, Annabelle retains the goodwill that brought her to Z.'s door so full of hope and appreciation for the real power of poetry. And ultimately, she sees the act of telling this story as a way toward liberation. Even for those of us beyond the clutches of tenured taskmasters, this is freedom worth celebrating.
http://www.csmonitor.com/2004/0420/p1...
A debut novel from Debra Weinstein scans this oeuvre with deflating wit. In fact, "Apprentice to the Flower Poet Z." should be required reading for anyone who uses the word "oeuvre." Annabelle, a wide-eyed undergraduate at New York University, opens the novel by telling us, "This is the story of how I came to momentary prominence in the world of poetry and, through a series of misunderstandings, destroyed my good name and became a nobody."
Annabelle's trajectory is propelled by her dream job: working as an assistant to the legendary Professor Z., author of "the first poetry book ever to land on a national bestseller list." Although the job involves far more stress than unstress, Annabelle comes to it like a pilgrim to the holiest of holies. Professor Z. wrote the flower poems that once saved Annabelle's life, and she's determined to savor every drop of nectar from the petals of Z.'s brilliance.
Perhaps one of the reasons Weinstein's book has been so well received is that so many book reviewers are survivors of graduate writing programs. Annabelle's cheery voice, so full of breathless wonder and unconscious satire, allows us to reexperience our lost innocence, while confirming what we suspected all along: We were better than those aloof professors we fawned over desperately.
The appeal here, though, is broader - broad enough to include anybody who appreciates the absurdity of intellectual pretension or the comedy of imperial bosses.
Z. admonishes Annabelle that "a keen eye is essential in a poet," but unfortunately, Annabelle is a better reader of verse than personality. With unflappable naiveté, she keeps wondering, "What is poetry?" while slaving away at Professor Z.'s menial assignments, such as finding just the prescribed shade of fountain pen ink. "I want the blackest ink you can find," Z. says with somber gravitas. "Jet black, not midnight black, not shoeshine black."
In this brilliant elegy to the abuse of subordinates, all of Z.'s requests rhyme with "absurd." She'll sign her letters only in a particular order.
She sends Annabelle back to the Salvation Army to paw through piles for her favorite pair of shoes. The buttons on her blazer must be replaced because she can't "live with the constant jangling." Several times, she castigates Annabelle for failing to keep sufficiently close watch on the supply of hand towels in the bathroom. "I like the paper to be thick and textured," Z. cautions. "The feel should be more cotton than paper."
"A less noble person would feel degraded," Annabelle says without missing a beat, "but I take Z.'s assignment as a challenge." In fact, she's flattered to be "the guardian of Z.'s psychic space," thrilled to be enjoying status unlike anything she's ever experienced before.
Typing Z.'s manuscripts, she can hardly believe that the master actually asks for her advice:
my arthritic half-moon, far-reaching thought (?), spine (?)
Before long, Professor Z. is asking Annabelle to steal flowers from public gardens around New York City and write descriptions of them for $2 a pop:
Wisteria: like hysteria, only it clings to a building
a bunch of purple flowers hiding a sturdy vine.
When her own couplets show up in Z.'s celebrated poetry, Annabelle is full of secret gratitude that she could help great art blossom. But her humiliation is rounded out by some particularly bizarre sexual abuse at the hands of another depressed graduate student whose mentor died and left him in eternal academic limbo.
What's sharpest about Weinstein's well-metered wit is the way she sinks down into this elite subculture. The whole shameful business has been presatirzed for decades, but Weinstein, a published poet herself, knows where all the bodies are buried. In the Rube Goldberg world of verse, academics nominate their sycophantic colleagues to serve as judges of poetry foundations where they can reciprocate by awarding prizes to those professors. And this leads to more prestigious departments of creative writing that can hire more friends who have favored them with glowing reviews in journals edited by their lovers.
Weinstein saves some of her most brilliant moments for scenes of the poetry workshop, a lush garden of posturing and veiled hostility. (If you've ever endured a poetry workshop, you may want to skip this section - could cause anapestic laughter.)
Even as her innocence fades into experience, Annabelle never grows bitter, and one suspects that Weinstein, despite the precision of her satire, hasn't fallen into that refrain either. To the last beat, Annabelle retains the goodwill that brought her to Z.'s door so full of hope and appreciation for the real power of poetry. And ultimately, she sees the act of telling this story as a way toward liberation. Even for those of us beyond the clutches of tenured taskmasters, this is freedom worth celebrating.
http://www.csmonitor.com/2004/0420/p1...
January 14, 2019
Really wasn’t sure I could keep reading Apprentice to the Flower poet Z. The main character, Annabelle, is such a wimp. She let’s Z use her in so many ways. She gives her far more work than she can possibly do while also being an undergrad. And she’s asking her to buy presents for her lover, help out a friend with shopping and cleaning, take the subway all over New York to do research for her next book of poetry. Soon Z’s husband and daughter are also asking Annabelle to do work for them. It’s ridiculous. But the story got under my skin. I was a scholarship student, and did work for two different professors; first the Botany professor, Mr. Kohl, who had me watering the ground and kneeling in the wet mud to plant daffodils on a frigid February afternoon. I got horribly sick afterwards. The next year I worked for John Esposito, who had me do research for his next book, then took me in to help him during the summer. I remember wanting to go on the March on Washington during the summer of 1968…and he shamed me into typing his wife’s paper. It seemed I was always typing her papers. I remember him saying, saving the world is one thing. Helping your friends is more important. He and his wife visited my mother with me once. The wife convinced my mother to invest in mutual funds she was promoting. I think Jeanne Esposito had very little financial experience, but my mom was snowed by her, I guess. I only heard about this after my mom lost most of the money she’d invested. Nasty professors, feeling that they can use their assistants in this way. So that got to me as I read. Annabelle felt so privileged to be Z’s lackey. Z was the poet who had made her want to be a poet.
I still found it almost unbearable to read. Annabelle is so utterly clueless. And her boyfriend is similarly a literary “user.” The story keeps getting worse and worse. The ending doesn’t really satisfy. I wonder if Goodread readers have read this book. I want to see what others think.
I still found it almost unbearable to read. Annabelle is so utterly clueless. And her boyfriend is similarly a literary “user.” The story keeps getting worse and worse. The ending doesn’t really satisfy. I wonder if Goodread readers have read this book. I want to see what others think.
Read
February 5, 2009Z. is a must-read for anyone who has logged time in a poetry workshop. This published poet's first novel--an All About Eve "with literary grants" (Detroit Free Press)--is "witty and generous" (The New York Times) and a "keenly observed, droll satire" (Miami Herald). While some critics found the constant word play and wit cloying and cited a few flat characters, most reviewers praised Weinstein's energetic send-up of the literary art scene. Yes, Annabelle is unbelievably clueless, and her life isn't as distinct as the terrible Z.'s, but this novel is sure-footed and insightful where The Devil Wears Prada, a novel with a similar plot, falters. "Peppered with poetry, some deliberately and hilariously awful, some quite good, Apprentice to the Flower Poet Z. is an auspicious debut" (The St. Petersburg Times).
This is an excerpt from a review published in Bookmarks magazine.
April 28, 2008
I enjoyed this book because I started my professional life working at a large University----after receiving a graduate degree in English. I mention this only because I think it heightened my curiosity about the book as well as my enjoyment of it.
The other reviewers were fairly harsh in their criticism of the novel and I can't disagree with many of their statements---but how can you reject the opportunity to read a book with such an enchanting title!? And, I enjoyed the "unmasking" of the very base fleur de mal, Z.
The other reviewers were fairly harsh in their criticism of the novel and I can't disagree with many of their statements---but how can you reject the opportunity to read a book with such an enchanting title!? And, I enjoyed the "unmasking" of the very base fleur de mal, Z.
August 12, 2022
I would give this book a 3.5 if I could. While I enjoyed this book overall there’s something about the main character that is irritating, as well as with Z and her family. I think the writing was excellent and that Annabelle is meant to be portrayed as a push over so that the ending can bring some sort of catharsis but it was still a bit hard to get through. All in all, I would recommend this book to someone solely for the writing. It’s not in the list of books that I would be excited to read again in the future but a book I am glad to have read.
September 14, 2021
I gave this book 4 stars for its uniqueness. It is not a book which everyone will enjoy. I liked the underlying sexuality and feminism that I felt battled with each other throughout the story. The apprentice was a character that I loved and hated. Z was a shallow, self-centered poet who made you hate her and sometimes makes you envious of her ability to float through life without a care.
June 20, 2018
I remember reading this in galleys, while working at a bookstore, and I remember hating it tremendously, but mercifully that's all I remember about it. Wait, the word "cartoonish" is floating to mind....
January 9, 2018
Entertaining and clever.
April 10, 2019
A very funny book about a backstabbing, demanding poet and her apprentice. I really liked the poetry workshop scenes: they are very true to life.
July 2, 2020
Charming and clever. Annabelle is a winning narrator and Z. her perfect foil. The ending is satisfying and well-earned. Who knew poetry could be so funny?
September 1, 2021
This book was passed on by my neighbour, who knows I enjoy poetry. I thought it was hilarious and laughed the whole way through.
March 3, 2009
Bad not good. I read this because of its insider's take on the American Poetry Establishment...and it is rather fun in a snarky sort of way. My problem with it is that it is not convincing at all... I read this a couple years ago, so I am hazy on the details. I started re-reading it a couple weeks ago and quickly remembered why my first reaction had been negative. I just don't believe much of it...and it's not that I'm a big fan of a lot of big names in American poetry, which is to say I was sympathetic to see it taken down hard. But this novel didn't really deliver even this (let alone the other stuff novels are supposed to do).
I'm sort of afraid that a lot of contemporary novels are like this one. With a lot of surface snazzle, reflexive irony, unconvincing narrative self-deprecation...all adding up to not much.
I'm sort of afraid that a lot of contemporary novels are like this one. With a lot of surface snazzle, reflexive irony, unconvincing narrative self-deprecation...all adding up to not much.
September 15, 2007
In other reviews, folks said that this book was a little too devil wears prada-ish. I agree that many of the themes are similar, but what was interesting was the process of discovery that Annabelle, the main character, goes through. She doesn't recognize her boss as tormentor until very late in the game. It is fun for the reader to watch her figure it out.
I also enjoyed the snippets of poetry and commentary on the poetry world throughout. I am not a huge fan of poetry but a stanza or two here and there is nice.
I also enjoyed the snippets of poetry and commentary on the poetry world throughout. I am not a huge fan of poetry but a stanza or two here and there is nice.
March 16, 2016
I read Flower Poet and Between Friends by Debbie Macomber yesterday. I'd have to say that I'd rate them pretty closely together, though for different reasons. If you are looking for a gentle read, with characters who give you hope for the world, try the Macomber book. If you are looking for a sharp look at the creative writing world, with characters who consistently disappoint, go for Flower Poet.
June 27, 2015
Clever, witty, and wry. This novel made me "laugh out loud" - as much as I hate to use an overused phrase. "Apprentice to the Flower Poet Z" hummed along smoothly until the last few chapters which seemed to create a void.Perhaps Weinstein did this as clever symbolism - Annabelle's world suddenly has the bottom pulled out. But I wonder if she was just uncertain how to end it, or it was poorly edited. Either way, it is still worth reading.
December 5, 2014
This book made me wish I knew more (anything) about poetry and academia, because it seems to be a brilliant send-up of both worlds and the intersection of those worlds. It is so cleverly written, but I'm afraid my own dearth of knowledge caused me to miss a great many references. Still, one certainly can be ignorant of the subjects of the book and still enjoy it immensely, as I did. I was sorry to come to the end!
February 26, 2008
This is a funny chick lit book about, what else, a girl who is too eager to please and working for an oppressive older woman. The main character is so sweet, but so naive, that you're rooting for her to wake up the whole time. I wish the ending was different, but it's a good book especially for people interested in writing, poetry, or creativity.
April 10, 2016
I liked this book's work with literary culture, the politics of a literary apprenticeship, and the work with poetry. However, it's quite a mild book; the scandals are set up to be sizable, but somehow never are. Compared to the last few years in literary culture, when real-life horribleness (literary misogyny/racism/rape culture) abounds, this novel is a bit pale.
October 8, 2007
Well, I persevered through this book, refusing to put it down even though it bored me and at times made me uncomfortable. It was a fast read, but even though I passed through 10 or 20 pages very quickly, I almost wished for that short time back to have invested in a truly worth while book.
July 19, 2008
An entertaining book about a novice poet enthralled with her mentor (tormentor), the Flower Poet Z. But as Z's dogsbody, Annabelle learns a little too much about Z, her disfunctional family, her affairs, her rivals, and the source of some of Z's poems.
July 29, 2013
This book kept me interested without having a shocking plot. The storyline follows a young woman as she interacts with a handful of different people. The plot and the thing that keeps you hooked is simply human relationships. A fun read, and interesting, too.
August 18, 2007
i studied under the flower poet z, if you're to believe she's who she is.
(and i can see how it could all be true. and i know her son.)
(and i can see how it could all be true. and i know her son.)
October 4, 2007
Surprisingly well done.
February 20, 2008
Could this book have been more boring? I couldn't get past page 30. So I read the reviews other goodreads members hae written and nobody else liked it either. Who has time to waste on boring books?
February 22, 2008
It's an odd one.
February 23, 2008
Reminiscent of Margulies' play.
March 28, 2008
Hated it
August 12, 2008
This is one of the books I compulsively read and re-read -- a chilling, funny send-up of poetry politics.
July 6, 2009
Hilarious!! Especially for academics or poets, or academic poets.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 44 reviews