Selected Late
Poems
Charles Wright
Farrar Strauss
Giroux
New York, NY
Softbound, 365
pages, $20.00
Paperback ISBN
978-0-374-53317-5
Review by Zvi A. Sesling
I sit where I
always sit, in back of the Buddha,
Red leather wing
chair, pony skin trunk
under my feet,
Skylight above
me, Chinese and Indian rugs on the floor.
1 March, 1998,
where to begin again?
So begins Looking Around from Charles Wright’s A Short History of the Shadow
by the poet
described in the Poetry Foundation’s website as, “…often ranked as one of the
best American poets of his generation.” He is a Chancellor of the American
Academy of Poets and Souder Family Professor English at the University of
Virginia in Charlottesville. He has won the Pulitzer Prize and numerous other
awards.
Bye-And-Bye contains about a half-dozen of Wright’s books,
and as the subtitle states they are “Selected Late Poems” and in one called Transparencies you read an older, wiser
poet recalling a mystical past:
Our lives, it
seems, are a memory
we had once in another place.
Or are they its
metaphor?
The trees, if
trees they, seem the same,
and the creeks do
And the clouds,
if clouds they really are,
still follow us,
One after one, as
they did in the old sky, in the old place.
So much one can
read into these lines, which, after reading the poem’s entirety he explains in
the final line: If it is an explanation.
In Sestets the poem “When Horses Gallop
Away From Us, It’s A Good Thing” Wright takes us further into his view of
death:
I always find it
strange—though I shouldn’t—how creatures don’t
care for us the way we care for them.
Horses, for
instance, and chipmunks, and any bird you’d name.
Empathy’s only a
one-way street.
And that’s all
right, I’ve come to believe.
It sets us up for
ultimate things,
and penultimate ones as well.
It’s a good
lesson to have in your pocket when the Call comes to call.
When compared to
lines in an earlier poem, “In Praise Of Thomas Hardy, one can see where Wright
is headed:
Transcendence is
a young man’s retreat,
and resides in a place
Beyond place,
vasty, boundless.
It hums unlike
the beauty of the world,
without pause, without mercy.
And perhaps the
final poem in the volume, “Little Ending,” tells us what it’s all about:
Bowls will
receive us,
and sprinkle black
scratch in our eyes.
Later, at the
great fork on the untouchable road,
It won’t matter
where we have become.
Unburdened by
prayer, unburdened by any supplication,
Someone will take
our hand,
someone will give us
refuse,
Circling left or
circling right.
Charles Wright’s
poems are full of wisdom, full of truths that we must read carefully because
though some seem easy, there are deeper meanings which are there for us to
discover.
This book by one
of America’s great poets is well worth reading.
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