Alice Notley was an American poet. Notley came to prominence as a member of the second generation of the New York School of poetry—although she always denied being involved with the New York School or any specific movement in general. Notley's early work laid both formal and theoretical groundwork for several generations of poets; she was considered a pioneering voice on topics like motherhood and domestic life. Notley's experimentation with poetic form, seen in her books 165 Meeting House Lane, When I Was Alive, The Descent of Alette, and Culture of One, ranges from a blurred line between genres, to a quotation-mark-driven interpretation of the variable foot, to a full reinvention of the purpose and potential of strict rhythm and meter. She also experimented with channeling spirits of deceased loved ones, primarily men gone from her life like her father and her husband, poet Ted Berrigan, and used these conversations as topics and form in her poetry. Her poems have also been compared to those of Gertrude Stein as well as her contemporary Bernadette Mayer. Mayer and Notley both used their experience as mothers and wives in their work. In addition to poetry, Notley wrote a book of criticism (Coming After, University of Michigan, 2005), a play ("Anne's White Glove"—performed at the Eye & Ear Theater in 1985), a biography (Tell Me Again, Am Here, 1982), and she edited three publications, Chicago, Scarlet, and Gare du Nord, the latter two co-edited with Douglas Oliver. Notley's collage art appeared in Rudy Burckhardt's film "Wayward Glimpses" and her illustrations have appeared on the cover of numerous books, including a few of her own. As is often written in her biographical notes, "She has never tried to be anything other than a poet," and with over forty books and chapbooks and several major awards, she was one of the most prolific and lauded American poets. She was a recipient of the Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize.
Update 2025: Alice Notley died (may she rest in peace and power), so I wanted to re-read some of her work and this was handy. I re-read it and loved it. I'm guessing many people became aware of her because of The Descent of Alette, as I did, so I'll probably be reading that again soon. But this book was handy so I re-read it first. I'm glad Alice Notley lived and wrote poetry and that I learned of her work and read some. (Not sure why this only got 3 stars from me, I'm upping it to 4 now.)
Original review: I got this book as a thank-you gift for donating to the fund to bring the author to Oakland for a symposium on her work (Alette in Oakland), which for some reason I ended up not attending myself. Anyway, I wish you could see the cover of this book, it is the blue of the Morton Salt package, and has the umbrella the Morton Salt girl carries. [Another 2025 update: My friend Sid informed me that an edition with the cover is on Goodreads, so I switched over to it. Thank you, Sid!] A number of the poems in this book date from the year her husband, Ted Berrigan, died of cirrhosis of the liver. Here's a poem from later that year:
I didn't write "Joe's Jacket" about the way I felt today. Luckily
I had "Joe's Jacket" to read instead. Is it my jacket, too?
Yes, as poetry will, still, protect me from all real harm.
There's also a poem called "The Ten Best Issues of Comic Books" which consists of a numbered list of comic books. Now I want to go find them and read them, but I'm too lazy and there's too much else to do and read. But I do love Alice Notley.
At night the states you who are alive, you who are dead when I love you alone all night and that is what I do until I could never write from your being enough I don’t want that trick of making it be coaxed from the words not tonight I want it coaxed from myself but being not that. But I’d feel more comfortable about it being words if it were if that’s what it were for these are the States where what words are true are words Not myself. Montana, Illinois. Escondido.