“Harrison doesn’t write like anyone else, relying entirely on the toughness of his vision and intensity of feeling to form the poem... here’s a poet talking to you instead of around himself, while doing absolutely brilliant and outrageous things with language.”— Publishers Weekly “One is simply content to be in the presence of a writer this vital, this large-spirited.”— The New York Times Book Review Although best known for his acclaimed fiction, Jim Harrison’s poetry has earned him recognition as an “untrammeled renegade genius.” Saving Daylight , his tenth collection of poetry–and first in a decade–is grounded in thickets and rivers, birds and bears, and the solace of dogs in a crazed political world. Whether contemplating the ephemerality of 90,000,000,000 galaxies or the immediate grace of a waitress, Harrison relishes the art and mysteries of being alive. “I’m enrolled in a school without visible teachers,” he writes in the title poem, “the divine mumbling just out of ear shot.” From “The Little Appearances of God” When god visits us he sleeps without a clock in empty bird nests. He likes the view. Not too high. Not too low. He winks a friendly wink at a nearby possum who sniffs the air unable to detect the scent of this not quite visible stranger... Jim Harrison is the author of two dozen books, including Legends of the Fall and Dalva . His work has been translated into 20 languages and produced as four feature-length films. Mr. Harrison divides his time between Montana and southern Arizona.
Jim Harrison was born in Grayling, Michigan, to Winfield Sprague Harrison, a county agricultural agent, and Norma Olivia (Wahlgren) Harrison, both avid readers. He married Linda King in 1959 with whom he has two daughters.
His awards include National Academy of Arts grants (1967, 68, 69), a Guggenheim Fellowship (1969-70), the Spirit of the West Award from the Mountain & Plains Booksellers Association, and election to the American Academy of Arts and Sciences (2007).
Much of Harrison's writing depicts sparsely populated regions of North America with many stories set in places such as Nebraska's Sand Hills, Michigan's Upper Peninsula, Montana's mountains, and along the Arizona-Mexico border.
I am a huge fan of Jim Harrison's poetry and prose. I don't think this is his strongest book of poetry, but it's still enormously satisfying. It touches on the usual Harrison themes - nature, dogs, women, lust, human idiocy, war, aging. A couple of the poems are published in both Spanish and English and one poem is a translation of Neruda. The title poem, in particular, struck me this week as we move our clocks forward amidst ignorance. It is poetry of the hard-lived, the rough and tumble, and the appreciative and the savagely honest.
What can I say? I've fallen in love with Jim Harrison's poetry in recent years... the originality of image, the clarity of feeling, the strength of actual life sensibility. Extra tip: I also adore the food writing he's been publishing in Brick. It keeps leaving me agog, each time I read one of these essays. Appetite for larger life runs through everything Harrison does.
Some of these poems are lovely, stirring, occasionally funny, and some I didn't like so much. But, the pearls kept me going. One of my favorites was entitled Water:
Before I was born I was water. I thought of this sitting on a blue chair surrounded by pink, red, white hollyhocks in the yard in front of my green studio. There are conclusions to be drawn but I can't do it anymore. Born man, child man, singing man, dancing man, loving man, old man, dying man. This is a round river and we are her fish who become water.
Walking before daylight along the river with the dogs of memory, Jim Harrison take us through his life in Montana and on the Mexican border--wonderful to be able to accompany him.
There is something raw and real about the poetry of Jim Harrison. He speaks with a midwestern voice about the joys and ravages of life. The indulgences and disasters. A joy to read!
I quite enjoyed several of the poems in this book, including this one:
Portal, Arizona
I've been apart too long from this life we have. They deep-fry pork chops locally. I've never had them that way. In the canyon at dawn the Cooper's hawk rose from her nest. Lion's pug marks a few miles up where the canyon narrowed and one rock had an eye with sky beyond. A geezer told me Nabokov wrote here while his beloved Vera tortured the piano. He chased butterflies to the pinheaded doom but Lolita survived. What beauty can I imagine beyond these vast rock walls with caves sculpted by wind where perhaps Geronimo slept quite innocent of television and when his three-year-old son died made a war these ravens still talk about.
I had read Harrison as the writer of Legends of the Fall and various short stories. This was the first book of his poetry I read, and it felt to me like bits and pieces of intense journal writing. He writes about the places he loves (Michigan, Montana, Mexico, France), dogs he has adored, women he has romanced, people who have died, and the way he is aging. There is a real sense of anger at our goverment and how politicians send young people off to war. All in all, there is a lot to think about in this book of poems.
I love to read poetry, especially my kid's poems as they pass through childhood. Jim Harrison is a prolific poet who captures in a raw, unique style the beauty of the American West and Montana - where I live. He writes in a free verse style, without rhyme or reason - that challenges conventional logic, and a style that keeps one captivated. His poems are as rough as a hard-core Montana cowboy's life, but yet with a prose that lingers on long after the book is put down! A refreshing break from the usual non-fiction that I read.
I usually like Jim Harrison's work and some of the poems in the collection were reasonably good. However, the book itself was poorly organized and seemed to be merely a bunch of poems put together in a random order. The long, rambling poems in the middle were really difficult to get into. Too many repetitive themes with death, dogs, and birds.
For someone who counts Braided Creek among their very favorite poetry books, this work was disappointing.