James Nolan describes this collection of his New Orleans poems as an autobiography of place, for which he selected fifty poems written over a span of fifty years focused on his native city. Rarely are readers offered a retrospective of both the lyrics and narratives inspired by a writer s singular hometown, and this book is a companion volume to Nolan s recent Flight Memoirs of a New Orleans Bad Boy. Some of these poems are arias, such as Nasty Water, while others are portraits of a Creole childhood, elegies about family members, jazz riffs on local culture, and commemorations of historic events, from Martin Luther King s assassination through Hurricane Katrina and the Gulf oil spill. Yet these lyrical, often revealing meditations on New Orleans are always tuned to music. Because this is how New Orleanians best celebrate the joys and survive the tribulations of life in their by telling stories and singing.
James Nolan's latest book is the award-winning collection of short stories, PERPETUAL CARE. His two books of poetry are WHY I LIVE IN THE FOREST and WHAT MOVES IS NOT THE WIND, both from Wesleyan. He is a regular contributor to BOULEVARD, and recent stories have appeared in SHENANDOAH, ARKANSAS REVIEW, and the anthology NEW ORLEANS NOIR. A New Orleans native, he lives in the French Quarter and directs the Loyola Writing Institute.
Mr. Nolan is a New Orleans native and put together a collection of 50 poems celebrating his 50 years of living there. Some are great fun; some made me cry. Nolan's use of words is wonderful, "Flannel shadows huddle...", "...rouge as thick as licorice/..."
I am not overly familiar with New Orleans, having only been there twice, but I have the idea this collection is a fair description of the town and its people, especially the French quarter—the fun parts and the not fun parts, discordant jazz and cheap booze, new life and old life.
What a great find! Nolan's poems of New Orleans hit the spot like a plateful of beignets from the Cafe du Monde. But these highly personal verses aren't for the tourists staggering through the French Quarter--these lines will take you down the backstreets and into the old neighborhoods that still smell like mildew after the hurricane. You'll hear the music, sure, and you'll meet the shadows of Nolan's creole ancestors in the dim shadows of dusty rooms. My son Matt found this for me at Faulkner House book store on Pirate's Alley behind the St. Louis Cathedral. A great Father's Day gift!