James Laughlin, poet and publisher, is known in Italy as Il Catullo americano, the American Catullus. Like the Latin poet whom Laughlin has long called his master, the subject at the heart of his work remains "love/...& the lack of love,/which is what makes evil," but seen now from the wry, often poignant perspective of old age. In his newest collection, The Secret Room, he has gathered nearly 150 poems that address his mature theme in a variety of ways. The philosophical lyrics of "Looking Inward" and the satirical jabs and invectives of "Epigrams and Comic Verses" employ short-line forms, including Laughlin's signature "typewriter metric," originally devised with the advice of William Carlos Williams. "Byways" continues his autobiographical work-in-progress, in a three-stress line borrowed from Kenneth Rexroth. And with "39 Pentastichs," Laughlin introduces a five-line stanza in a natural voice cadence suited to casual observations.
Overall, I found this to be a very well assembled collection. Heavy themes of old age, duality, and what i found to be plenty of allusions to the male gaze, if that was purposeful or not i may never know. Genuinely thought some of these poems were absolutely hysterical and others heartbreaking and gorgeous.
So I'm an old fogey; I really like most of these cultured, intellectual poems. True, I'm not sure about Laughlin's prosy metrics, but not all of the poems are that way -- "Do You Know (Sais-tu)" is musical in both English and French. His responses to the Greeks and Romans are the kind I can relate to; he quotes languages I can read; he studies Sanskrit verse, culture, and metaphysics, which I don't think I ever will, but I like observing. And I'm not offended by the erotic poems even though they're a different sort of thinking than what I'd prefer. I was fascinated by the "pentastichs", little pieces of verse and prose that Laughlin either wrote or collected -- some real gems among them.
One of my favorite poetry books ever. The meter isn't quite perfect, and it doesn't have the sophistication of Merrill or Jones (through whom I discovered him), but he has an everyday beauty and a surprisingly earthy sweetness that makes me contemplate the body/soul duality with every reading.