From a sequence, "The Countries Surrounding the Garden of Eden":
Gihon, that compasseth the whole land
At the first frost we found our sheep with strangled hearts, lying on their backs in the frozen clover, their eyes wide open as if they were surprised by a constellation of drought or endless winter. The wolves walked into the snow, like men who have given up living without love; cows would no longer let go of their calves, hiding them deep in the birch groves. Everywhere the roads gave off their wild animal cries, running toward the edge of what we had thought was the world. And the names of things as we knew them would no longer bring them to us.
Susan Stewart (born 1952) is an American poet, university professor and literary critic.
Professor Stewart holds degrees from Dickinson College (B.A. in English and Anthropology), the Johns Hopkins University (M.F.A. in Poetics) and the University of Pennsylvania (Ph.D. in Folklore). She teaches the history of poetry, aesthetics, and the philosophy of literature, most recently at Princeton University.
Her poems have appeared in many journals including: The American Poetry Review, The Paris Review, Poetry, Tri-Quarterly, Gettysburg Review, Harper's, Georgia Review, Ploughshares, and Beloit Poetry Journal.
In the late 2000s she collaborated with composer James Primosch on a song cycle commissioned by the Chicago Symphony that premiered in the fall of 2009. She has served on the judging panel of the Wallace Stevens Award on six occasions.
In 2005 Professor Stewart was elected a Chancellor of the Academy of American Poets and a member of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences.
About her work, the poet and critic Allen Grossman has written, "Stewart has built a poetic syntax capable of conveying an utterly singular account of consciousness, by the light of which it is possible to see the structure of the human world with a new clarity and an unforeseen precision, possible only in her presence and by means of her art."
Stewart has an intellect that won't be deterred. With this book, the argument is one for subtle wonder getting pulled open from the present. A parade that just happens to erupt out of traffic. A world that begins with the countries bordering on Eden.
Something unnamable arose from the pages, nagging, something not quite right. Susan Stewart's collection has many moments of poetic genius, many quivering, shaking, vivid moments, yet something about it falls short of being even better. Maybe there's too much "I" or too many questions. Maybe too many animals. Let's focus on the positive, though. The poems about place offer a strong sense of space, environment, surroundings, like being there. The section titles are startling in that good way.