New work from the Pulitzer-Prize winning author of Repair
. . . Reality has put itself so solidly before me there's little need for mystery . . . Except for us, for how we take the world to us, and make it more, more than we are, more even than itself. --from "The World"
The awards given to C.K. Williams' two most recent books--a National Book Award for The Singing and a Pulitzer Prize for Repair --complete the process by which Williams, long admired for the intensity and formal daring of his work, has come to be recognized as one of the few truly great living American poets. Williams treats the characteristic subjects of a poet's maturity--the loss of friends, the love of grandchildren, the receding memories of childhood, the baffling illogic of current events--with an intensity and drive that recall not only his recent work but also his early books, published forty years ago. The Singing is a direct and resonant searing, hearfelt, permanent.
The Singing is the winner of the 2003 National Book Award for Poetry.
C.K. Williams was born and grew up in and around Newark, New Jersey. He graduated from the University of Pennsylvania, where he majored in philosophy and English. He has published many books of poetry, including Repair, which was awarded the 2000 Pulitzer Prize, The Singing which won the National Book Award for 2003, and Flesh and Blood, the winner of the National Book Critics Circle Prize in 1987. He has also been awarded the Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize, the PEN Voelker Career Achievement Award in Poetry for 1998; a Guggeheim Fellowship, two NEA grants, the Berlin Prize of the American Academy in Berlin, a Lila Wallace Fellowship, the Los Angeles Book Prize, and an award from the American Academy of Arts and Letters.
He published a memoir, Misgivings, in 2000, which was awarded the PEN Albrand Memoir Award, and translations of Sophocles’ Women of Trachis, Euripides’ Bacchae, and poems of Francis Ponge, Adam Zagajewski, as well as versions of the Japanese Haiku poet Issa.
His book of essays, Poetry and Consciousness, appeared in 1998. and his most recent, In Time, in 2012. He published a book about Walt Whitman, On Whitman, in 2010, and in 2012 a book of poems, Writers Writing Dying. A book of prose poems, All At Once, will be published in 2014.
He teaches in the Creative Writing Program at Princeton University, is a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters, and was a chancellor of the American Academy of Poets.
Whenever I finish a book by C.K. Williams I immediately ask myself, "Why have I waited so long to read this?" There are few poets who have the ability to consistently stun. Williams was one of them. I suppose I space out his books because I know there are only so many, and that he's gone now so no more are coming. Need to ration them out. Save some for next year, retirement.
9 poems throughout collection really stood out to me, but I truly loved the language throughout and will be reading Repair! 🙂 this was a random library book sale buy and love finding poets this way. I would recommend this collection!
Oh and taking a full year and a month - just go in and out of wanting to read poetry
I've read this collection of poems many times, and just reread it. The first poem, The Doe, is perfect. With my recent reading, I found I also loved "Lessons." Here is an excerpt: "Those who touch us, those whom we touch / we hold them or we let them go / as though it were such a small matter. / How even know in truth how much / of mind should be memory, no less / what portion of self should be others / rather than self? ..." And, now, I think, that C.K. Williams himself has become a portion of myself. Although I did not know him, never met him, I've read and own (so reread) 7 of his books. And one of the reasons to read is to articulate and expand the self - to become others, in just this way that he describes.
I'm still reading this book of poetry...but what comes across most strongly—his tenacity— his search for truth across ethical boundaries, his linguistic skill, his vivid narration, his intuitive trust in craftsmanship and the ways these gifts come together to form "The Singing." He seems to play out these chords expertly—and then to heap them into one little basket.
I carry this slim book around with me, humming. If you ask me what I'm humming, I'll show you the book.
I have been a poetry hiatus lately and this was a nice collection to break that pattern. Some pieces really spoke to me. My favorite was Sully: Sixteen Months. Also really enjoyed Elegy for an Artist, which made up the 3rd section of the book.
A pair of red leaves spinning on one another in such wildly erratic patterns over a frozen field it's hard to tell one from another and whether it they were creatures they'd be in combat or courting or just exalting in the tremendousness of their being.
Humans can be like that, capricious, aswirl, not often enough in exalting, but courting, yes, and combat; so often in combat, in rancor, in rage, we rarely even remember what error or lie set off this phase of our seeming to have to slaughter.
Not leaves then, which after all in their season give themselves to the hammer of winter, become sludge, become muck, become mulch, while we, still seething, broiling, stay as we are, vexation and violence, ax, atom, despair.
(C. K. Williams, "The Singing: Poems", New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003, p. 59)
I enjoyed his 'easy' and truth-seeking observations. "Your truths will seek you, though you still must construct and comprehend them," The last poem, 'The Tract' asks, for "the hope that someday I'll accept without qualm or question that the reality of others the love of others the miracle of others all that which feels like enough is truly enough." (I'm putting those lines on my bathroom mirror.)
I admire the many different voices, styles, and structures Williams uses in this book, but most of the poems did not do much for me. Some were OK, nothing is bad, but one poem is so outstanding that it turned a 2 star book into a 3, and that is the very long "Elegy for an Artist," written in tribute to a deceased friend. It is beautifully rendered, moving, and as episodic as memory. Get this book for this poem. It is worth it.
I'm having trouble remembering this collection. But I remember really liking the title poem in particular. I saw him read it at the National Book Awards Nominees reading and he basically blew everyone away. Or maybe he just blew me away & I projected my reaction onto everyone else. Anyway, he's great.
Not my favorite Williams collection--he seems to be following the trend I see in Levine, Bidart, Kinnell, and other aging poets, in that their latter collections replicate their early work, but less effectively. I don't suspect I can come down too hard on them, but one can't help noticing, as a reader, the subtle tapering off in many of their more recent books.
Written in the first years after 9/11, these poems carry the stink and sorrow and fatigue of war, but also an intense love of humanity and the natural world, and a fearless, hopeful search for meaning. I was deeply moved by this collection and especially by the last poem.
I skimmed this volume because I was unable to immerse myself in the hefty stories these poems attempted to enter. Many of the poems lacked the vibrant imagery found in Williams's other work, something that prevented enjoyment and perspective-changing revelations.
There were a couple of poems that I liked but on the whole, there's nothing about this collection of poems that makes me want to sing praises. Maybe I've forgotten how to appreciate poetry or maybe I don't get free verse that modern poems often take on.
C. K. is one of my favorite poets. I like the way his poems think, and I admire the virtuosity of his sentences. Also, his prose collection, Poetry and Consciousness is thoughtful and informing.
I really enjoyed this collection. C. K. Williams has this uncanny ability to write poems within poems, many lines stand on their own as well as to the poem they are in.