Edward Estlin Cummings was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, on October 14, 1894. He began writing poems as early as 1904 and studied Latin and Greek at the Cambridge Latin High School.
He received his BA in 1915 and his MA in 1916, both from Harvard University. His studies there introduced him to the poetry of avant-garde writers, such as Gertrude Stein and Ezra Pound.
In 1917, Cummings published an early selection of poems in the anthology Eight Harvard Poets. The same year, Cummings left the United States for France as a volunteer ambulance driver in World War I. Five months after his assignment, however, he and a friend were interned in a prison camp by the French authorities on suspicion of espionage (an experience recounted in his novel, The Enormous Room) for his outspoken anti-war convictions.
After the war, he settled into a life divided between houses in rural Connecticut and Greenwich Village, with frequent visits to Paris. He also traveled throughout Europe, meeting poets and artists, including Pablo Picasso, whose work he particularly admired.
In 1920, The Dial published seven poems by Cummings, including "Buffalo Bill ’s.” Serving as Cummings’ debut to a wider American audience, these “experiments” foreshadowed the synthetic cubist strategy Cummings would explore in the next few years.
In his work, Cummings experimented radically with form, punctuation, spelling, and syntax, abandoning traditional techniques and structures to create a new, highly idiosyncratic means of poetic expression. Later in his career, he was often criticized for settling into his signature style and not pressing his work toward further evolution. Nevertheless, he attained great popularity, especially among young readers, for the simplicity of his language, his playful mode and his attention to subjects such as war and sex.
The poet and critic Randall Jarrell once noted that Cummings is “one of the most individual poets who ever lived—and, though it sometimes seems so, it is not just his vices and exaggerations, the defects of his qualities, that make a writer popular. But, primarily, Mr. Cummings’s poems are loved because they are full of sentimentally, of sex, of more or less improper jokes, of elementary lyric insistence.”
During his lifetime, Cummings received a number of honors, including an Academy of American Poets Fellowship, two Guggenheim Fellowships, the Charles Eliot Norton Professorship at Harvard, the Bollingen Prize in Poetry in 1958, and a Ford Foundation grant.
At the time of his death, September 3, 1962, he was the second most widely read poet in the United States, after Robert Frost. He is buried in Forest Hills Cemetery in Boston, Massachusetts.
All poetry should be read aloud. E.E. Cummings poems demand more — they must also be visualized on the page. His unique use of punctuation, playfulness with upper and lower case, his run on words and line spacing on the page are as vital to his style as is his poetic voice. If you hear these poems without seeing them you are missing half the show.
And what a show it is! What a voice! Cummings poems are exuberant, erotic, full of life and a mad playfulness, yet always cognizant of looming death. His phrasing is brilliantly memorable — O crazy daddy of death dance cruelly or — spiral acres of bloated rose coiled within cobalt miles of sky and — crazy jay blue) demon laughshriek ing at me these but a taste of the feast offered up here for your wonderment.
These poems, selected from volumes spanning his career, reveal Cummings as the rarest of poetic birds — a Modernist without pretentiousness. While his poetry definitely broke with classical forms and forged a new way, he never forgot that poetry should be joyful, accessible, even playful. For that he has earned his place in my pantheon of all time greats.
cummings remains one of my all-time favorite poets. My wife and I even had 2 cummings poems read at our wedding. I come back to this slim volume constantly, and occasionally reread it. The presentation is simple: just the poems, ma'am, just the poems. Poems are organized by the collection in which they originally appeared, with the collection's date.
This collection is a great way to revisit some of my favorites ("somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond" and "if i have made,my lady,intricate"), as well as a great way to get to know different poems from all across cummings' vast output.
e. e. cummings is just a tad too much for me. Also I would not recommend sitting down and straight reading this book; his poetry is definitely one just to be sampled bits at a time.
I read all these poems out loud to my daughter in the morning. I liked the poems but they are insane to read OUT LOUD (in general) to a TODDLER (in particular) so I cannot really give this a star rating as it were!!!
My love for e.e. cummings will never fade. The innovative use of language, the avant-garde style. With just a few precise words he can usher in a rush of emotion or thought. Or simply create a beautiful image with his unconventional ways. But never are these beautiful images just that- there is always some underlying message, however subtle it may be.
"i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)" is by far my favorite, having been the first cummings poem that I read. I also quite enjoy "anyone lived in a little how town". It's so fun and yet serious. And catchy- "anyone lived in a little how town/with up so flowing many bells down"- who couldn't fall in love with that?
Some may not like the out-of-the-ordinary style and language, but that is exactly what drew me to cummings. The book was given to me by my mother, and is by far the most well-loved book on my shelf, with nearly every page dog-eared and with scrawled exclamation points on the side. I will never get tired of this collection of poems, discovering and interpreting new things with every read. Another thing that cummings' poems do very well- they grow with you. With every new life experience I am able to take something different, something deeper away from the poem.
I'm so ashamed to say I've never read ee cummings before - how reprehensible is that? I read a scathing review where someone compared cummings to Joyce - Finnegan's Wake - and talked about how nonsensical he was. But that's kind of what I liked about this. This particular collection starts out more... collected... and slowly devolves (or evolves) into glossy (maybe) nonsense. And it's delightful. Sometimes, it's okay to ready poetry just for the string of words, to feel the way the words feel and taste in your mouth; to see if they make your salivary glands work overtime. cummings rips open the guarded chests of his readers and makes us feel - he writes about love. He writes about happiness. In a world where there is lots of sadness, this is welcome.
When my aunt heard that I love e.e. cummings, she gave me this book, her own copy, bought almost two years after I was born. That's a really long time. When she migrated to the US, she gave almost all of her books away. And this is probably one of those she kept with her through the years. She gave it to me together with a painting of Gustav Klimt's The Kiss. This is probably the closest we've ever been and will be.
Here, gratitude in cummings' voice:
Into strenuous birds shall go my love walking in the grass
their wings will touch with her face and all the while shall my heart be
This one's tricky, because I actually love some of the poems in here. Yeah, the punctuation and capitalization is al l differ; ent and a little overdonesometimes, but it's also often highly effective. The problem with this collection, for me, was the hit-to-miss ratio. For every poem I realiy liked (and there were several -- Cummings sometimes has remarkably fresh imagery and he is a powerful poet of love and a kind of joie d'vivre despite the difficulties of life) there were several that I just did not like much at all. Still glad I read this collection, though.
So as it turns out, I am very, very picky about my poetry and this was just not my cup of tea. The language was in turn flowery and seemingly nonsensical, and the love poems were a little much in my opinion. There were a couple of poems I really liked ("it may not always be so" and "if seventy were young", for example) but otherwise I was a bit bored and distractible when trying to get through this.
disliked most of this. read it while drinking a lime margarita cider (girl beer). at one point, a guy at the bar open mic was performing celtic songs and that was far more enjoyable.
Only took 4 years. But the good stuff takes the time it needs. “Poetry is immeasurable being, not measurable doing.”
“seeker of truth follow no path all truth leads where truth is here”
“time is a tree (this one leaf) but love is the sky and; am for you just so long and long enough”
“ — ‘dying’ the ghost of you whispers ‘is very pleasant’ my ghost to”
“Who are you, little i (five or six years old) peering from some high window; at the gold of november sunset (and feeling: that if day has to become night this is a beautiful way)”
“My father moved through depths of height”
“A world of made is not a world of born”
“(And everybody never breathes quite so many kinds of yes)”
“and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)”
“(eternity being so sans until twice i have lived forever in a smile)”
“May came home with a smooth round stone as small as a world & as large as alone For whatever we lose (like a you or a me) it’s always ourselves we find in the sea”
I figured at least one person would mention how he used not one but TWO slurs in one of these poems... and look, I understand that this was written a long time ago, but a slur is a slur! Not sure if the poem was satirical in nature, but I still wasn't fond of the usage.
In addition, his portrayal of women and mankind isn't the best. Almost seems like he tries too hard to be witty!
I do think, for historical and literary purposes ONLY, this is still worth reading. Cummings has an interesting musical quality to his poetry and plays a lot with line structure.
Great for studying, but otherwise okay at best and problematic at worst. Some works are best left in the past!
“In your most frail gesture are thing which enclose me, your slightest look easily will enclose me.” uh oh barf! Love is not blind!
“(I do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deep than all roses)”
My reaction to his work is for sure a whirlwind, but I always land straight on my back, looking up, wondering how someone could birth such beautifully soft and authentic explanations of the human experience/existence. It speaks to so much more than just his own life, but to life as a whole.
I don’t dislike cummings, but I do feel that his popularity has slowly declined over time. Reading this book in contrast with contemporary poets who have left me speechless, such as Joshua Bennett, Tiana Clark, and Ada Limon, cummings leaves me feeling wanting. His poetry is at times playful, but the deeper substance this play might convey seems to disappear once his poetry undergoes scrutiny beyond the linguistic level.
Note to self: I read this thinking of buni and her early connection/admiration for e.e., but couldn't connect as well as I'd have liked. At times entertaining in his word play, but mostly hollow for my read.
I didn't finish bc I was bored, and irritated with his descriptions of women. Perhaps he is significant when it comes to the history of poetry, but I was not particularly enthralled with his work.
My absolute favorite book of poetry. My brain is truly just aligned with the way E. E Cummings writes. I have an understand and connection with his poetry that I don’t have with any other poet.