Poetry. "These poems manage to say everything about everything-each determining day, each shifting sense of inexhaustible person. Back of it all is an extraordinary ear for the way words find place, make a passage from here to there, blessedly keep on talking"-Robert Creely. "Few poets are strange and quick enough to capture the frenetic quality of contemporary life. Her poems move fast, think on their feet, hit and run with equal parts of humor, glamour, and horror. In every way, she is a thoroughly original voice for our time"-Elaine Equi. THE LATEST WINTER is Nelson's follow-up to SHINER (also available from SPD). Nelson's work has appeared in many anthologies and journals including AMERICAN POETRY: THE NEXT GENERATION, THE HAT, OPEN CITY, and SHINY.
Maggie Nelson is the author of nine books of poetry and prose, many of which have become cult classics defying categorization. Her nonfiction titles include the National Book Critics Circle Award winner and New York Times bestseller The Argonauts (Graywolf Press, 2015), The Art of Cruelty: A Reckoning (Norton, 2011; a New York Times Notable Book of the Year), Bluets (Wave Books, 2009; named by Bookforum as one of the top 10 best books of the past 20 years), The Red Parts (Free Press, 2007; reissued by Graywolf, 2016), and Women, the New York School, and Other True Abstractions (U of Iowa Press, 2007). Her poetry titles include Something Bright, Then Holes (Soft Skull Press, 2007) and Jane: A Murder (Soft Skull, 2005; finalist for the PEN/ Martha Albrand Art of the Memoir). In 2016 she was awarded a MacArthur “genius” Fellowship. She has also been the recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship in Nonfiction, an NEA in Poetry, an Innovative Literature Fellowship from Creative Capital, and an Arts Writers Fellowship from the Andy Warhol Foundation. She writes frequently on art, including recent catalogue essays on Carolee Schneemann and Matthew Barney. She holds a Ph.D. in English Literature from the Graduate Center of the City University of New York, and has taught literature, writing, art, criticism and theory at the New School, Pratt Institute, and Wesleyan University. For 12 years she taught in the School of Critical Studies at CalArts; in fall 2017 she will join the faculty of USC. She currently lives in Los Angeles.
3/4 stars. the future of poetry is worth a whole sky full of stars, - and I am not sorry I bought this book for that poem alone. (I want to learn all the sentences so I can take it with me everywhere and whisper it to myself every time I hate writing and literature and the whole stupid world surrounding it.) However, the rest of the poems simply did not blow me away. I enjoyed reading them, I enjoyed the conversational feel they had, as if Nelson was sharing her thoughts unfiltered after too much wine, as well as the stream of consciousness of it all, how she connected images and thoughts to each other. Some sentences/poems were really relatable as well. I just expected more. (I might add a star though, sometimes a bit of distance is necessary in order to determine if a book or poetry stays with you. And I might be unfair to the rest of the book because I love the future of poetry so much.)
Después de un milenio, lo terminé. Traduje cada palabra que no entendía porque no soy tan lectora de poesía, y menos en inglés, y esta era la primera vez que leía a Maggie Nelson, así que había que hacerlo bien. Valió la pena y hasta diría que ese ejercicio de lectura lentísima fue mejor.
Como no soy tan lectora de poesía no me voy a cuentear. En este libro hay poemas que pasé de largo, pero otros que son de esos textos a los que volvería una y otra vez, no tanto por su complejidad como por su asombrosa/escabrosa precisión para transmitir una idea, imagen, sensación, lo que sea.
Por poemas como "The Poem I Was Working on Before September 11, 2001", "The future of poetry", "Words to a Woman" o "Report from the Field" le doy 5, porque me parecen espléndidos, brutales; aunque hay muchos más con los que conecté un montón.
The Latest Winter was the sixteenth book in last year's October poetry project. This is obviously early poetry, and I didn't like it as much as the more sophisticated Something Bright, Then Holes, but it had a Patricia Lockwood flavor I enjoyed. My devotion to Maggie Nelson remains intact.
“of a small life. Still I haven’t learned how to die, but there’s time. I wake up with my mind a naked magnet about to be bearded with the shaggy lead of my thoughts, I find it funny that they come back to me as if they’re mine, that sleep hasn’t washed them away, blue-rinsed this litany”
it’s been years since I’ve read bluets, and I also feel inarticulate for a while after reading poetry unless I commit myself to writing an essay about it. reading a collection of poetry is experiencal to me, a reminder that my own thoughts can be meaningful. but I think I’ll try for you, Maggie!
“The Latest Winter” reminds that pain can be bawdy, winter can be sweet, friends can be bad lovers, and places can be good friends. That poets can be bored and maybe that’s when they write best. That you can write ‘I love you’ on a page in a way that can still surprise. I marked six or seven poems with hopes to revisit, and that’s the value of it all for me— a little written thing worth remembering!
young and wild poetry! loved meeting her younger self
“Oh my friend it's a fine and fair fiction And my god is not holding it at all When I was 23, I thought I'd seen some things The inside of a truck A madman Afternoon sun on the bed Suddenly I get it You can suffer happiness too, for what it's worth You can handle yourself gently”
As an intro to the poetry of Maggie Nelson, this was wonderful. The book is a strange trip back to the time around the September 11th attacks and the aftermath in America (the collection was originally published in 2003). The book gives us an insight into the confusion and tenderness of those times which seem very removed from where we are now. The poems themselves have a lyrical, vocal quality as well as a longing which I found wonderful to read. At this time poets were still figuring out where to go next, still shaking off the formal constrictions of past decades/centuries and this collection feels like a step towards the freedom of expression we see in many contemporary poets. There were several stand out moments, lines which really made you pause. Really enjoyable, will be reading more.
It strikes me, looking back on this, how much my reception of poetry depends on my mood. I read this over a course of days and there was one day in particular when every poem seemed on fire to me, lit from the inside and lighting me up as I read them. But then the following days, finishing the collection, it was much more a mix, and even the poems which had caught fire for me before often seemed rather ordinary. Perhaps I will read them again in a few years and see where I land.
3.5-4 (?) need more time but this was so good, be warned by the amount of some of the lines i highlighted and would haunt me for the rest of my life honestly so much was not placed here pa but god... maggie girl what the fuck
"Another year wound round us, and you still made for me." (fuck my chungus life malala...)
"pulsing incandescent piece of flesh boneless loveless beautiful fish cold fucking fish
we say we have a romantic friendship but all that means is I don't understand anything I feel, for years I thought when we touched it would be perfect but I had to make you stop, you were so much rougher than I thought." + so much lines from "Words to a woman"
"it's true, I really am
verbose for you, I have known all along that words will not do.
I am apart in a made-up way."
"I want you to know I conducted a war for this, a war to lose my life. I lost it, I lost it. I reduced it to a death canoe and still it came out as life."
"What's not to like about that? he asks. I am licking the air open-mouthed just as you do when you play your instrument. Yes the dissonance is truth, whether it is killing me or not is not relevant, as I am trying to write without knowing who I am."
"I am not sure i know how to love anyone. sometimes I think there's real cruelty in space, sometimes in my greedy little hands. I want to think the end of everything will be a relief, but I don't really want humans to fail."
Joint review with Shiner: Maggie Nelson's 'Shiner' and 'The Latest Winter, her two first poetry collections from 2001 and 2003 respectively, newly republished in 2018 by Zed Books, are the final two books l've read in 2018, and remind me why I loved reading three of her other books so much last year ('Bluets', 'The Red Parts' and 'The Argonauts'); her distinctly direct approach to language, her natural rhythms and ability to harbour the deepest intensities, permeate even her earliest writings, concerned as they are with love and grief and sickness and existentialism and terrorism (one collection pre-9/11, the other shortly after). 'Shiner' is heat and blood and closeness, while 'The Latest Winter' is cold and weather and distance, both in their own ways exploring the self amidst the sprawl of New York, first in a tone of self-discovery, then with a sense of loss and being overwhelmed. There are too many poems and lines to single out, so I'll stick to one: 'my life as an exchange student' from 'The Latest Winter', in which Nelson writes "those were the days of pepper trees, when / I was unsure if anyone would ever love me".
3.5 stars. A lot of the poems in this collection were hit or miss for me. The great ones were really great & the unmemorable ones were just that. This isn’t a bad collection by any stretch, it just wasn’t entirely for me.
The jacket also made it seem like these poems were going to be a little more explicitly about NYC in the aftermath of 9/11. While that was certainly an undercurrent running through the book, I went into this expecting something more overt which influenced my overall opinion of the collection.
Either way, I love Maggie Nelson! I love her work, & will continue to read her in the future.
This little collection of tight poems has much of the same pull as Bluets, which I suspect is the viaduct for a lot of the people drawn to this book. I appreciate Maggie’s incisive vocabulary and expansive line breaks. It’s the kind of poetry that almost has tool marks from its making. You can watch as the poems unfold themselves on the page just as they were meant to.
As for material, as in other collections of her’s, the poems amble along a humdrum path that Maggie manages to coat with a bit of magic and insight.
This is the first time I've read Maggie Nelson's poetry. I read /Bluets/ first and then /The Argonauts/, but I was just as happy with Maggie Nelson's poetry as I am with her prose. Her prose reads like poetry anyway and the way she can capture a moment or a feeling that seems commonplace and make it beautiful with language makes me want to go back and reread every poem, just to enjoy them again.
I started reading The Latest Winter and felt disconnected...from the poetry, from the imagery, from it all. I said as much to my coworker. She was flabbergasted. "But I love Maggie Nelson," she said, looking at me askance. I decided to keep at it. And maybe it was the releasing of expectations or a gift from the universe for my dogged perseverance... but the next time I picked up The Latest Winter, I fell in love. Hard. It's gorgeous and wrenching. And now my copy is beloved and dog-eared.
anna lent me this. ive been taking it around with me so gingerly since it’s not mine and it has my favorite cover of 2024 (if not ever). it’s very early-naughts in a way that reminds one of 9/11. but it is eerily timely and also reminds one that new york will always be bizarre, israelis always evil, and the seasons always influencing how it feels to fall in love. restored something in me about nelson since i had a hard time reading those essays she published last year :/
Ay, amo mucho a Nelson, pero me pasó que el imaginario de amor y trauma en estos poemas se me va diluyendo a ratos. Como que capta grandes ideas e imaginarios en algunos poemas, y en otros simplemente plantea rollos que llegan hasta ser vacíos. Si bien este contraste podría funcionar, a mí me generó que algunos poemas pasaran un poco sin pena ni gloria.
“You wanted me to be/overwhelmed by magnolia/and so I was, fat white buds/perched/like flocks frozen/a moment before flight/It’s spring, you whispered/She’s going to be alright” (The Earth in April 74)
At times personal, at times apocalyptic. I found myself caught up in the imagination and imagery of this collection. I don’t know where she pulls these ideas from, but wherever it is in an incredible, and maybe a touch melancholy, place