Charles Wright (1) (1935–)

I just couldn't get into this one, and found myself skimming and finally dropping it altogether. I've never read anything by Charles Wright, and for how lauded he seems to be perhaps this was the wrong collection to start with. Or perhaps his style is just not for me.

I'm not sure every poem was written when he was older, but the collection was released in his old age and it feels like each piece reflects this: onset of night, dusk, changing seasons, darkness, winter, reflection on lessons learned/not learned, etc. It becomes quite repetitive very quickly. While I appreciate some of the sentiments and I enjoy the focus on natural world, overall I found myself lost in phrasing that didn't make sense, bored, and desiring something more nuanced.… (more)

Wright's poems are the kind which you might read through once, fairly easily, and then read through again for another level of meaning. In this collection, the ones I got the most out of were the longer sequences and those more focused on images than on story-telling, which isn't necessarily the norm for me. Here, though, the sequences progressed in such a way as to feel like slowly blooming flowers and films, and I adored them, whereas many images were offered with such simple flavor that I couldn't help but enjoy them and re-read immediately.

Wright will probably never be one of my favorite poets, but this little book is certainly my favorite collection from him so far, and I think I'll probably return to a number of the poems here.… (more)