Review by Booklist Review
Collins is a jester and a double agent. A poet readers flock to, he gets the laughs and the applause, he paces and bows, concealing his weapons and serious mien. His self-portraiture is mordant, his drollery preemptive, his insouciance camouflage, his intelligence of the stealth kind, and his intricately constructed poems detonate as they blossom in the reader's mind. Collins is fanciful and mindful, cocky and prayerful, blissful over ordinary things and intimate with dread and loneliness. Here he is morose in Paris, staring down a fish staring back on a plate in Pittsburgh, rain-harried in Dublin, awake and repentant at the fringe of night in a bright bathroom, loitering with intent in the kitchen. Collins' seductive poems are decoys drawing us into deep waters where memories waft like tangled weeds and death lurks in the cold spots. Wryly philosophical, caustically whimsical, disarmingly beautiful, Collins' covertly powerful lyrics deftly snare all that is fine and ludicrous about us, from the old habit of poetry itself to the spell of love and the long, rolling song of the self.--Seaman, Donna Copyright 2008 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
The latest from former U.S. laureate Collins (The Trouble with Poetry and Other Poems) again shows the deft, often self-mocking touch that has made him one of America's bestselling poets: while this volume hardly breaks new ground, it should fly off the shelves. To his jokes about, and against, his own poetizing, Collins now adds two new emphases: on life in France, where (to judge by the poems) he has spent some time and (more pervasively) a preoccupation with the end of life. Collins is never carefree, but he is, as always, accessible and high-spirited, making light even when telling himself that nothing lasts: Vermont, Early November finds the poet in his kitchen, wringing his signature charm from the eternal carpe diem theme, determined to seize firmly/ the second Wednesday of every month. For Collins, such are his stock in trade, humorous and serious at once. His tongue-in-cheek assault on the gloom and doubt in our poetry is his only remedy for the loneliness that (even for him) shadows all poems: this is a poem, not a novel, he laments, and the only characters here are you and I,/ alone in an imaginary room/ which will disappear after a few more lines. (Sept.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review
"This love for the petty things,/ part natural from the slow eye of childhood,/ part a literary affectation" is endemic to these poems by former poet laureate Collins. Collins takes aim with wit and irony to attend the ordinary as well as the extraordinary. Some poems are written in Paris, where, in one, the poet imagines completing Paul Valery's wandering, abandoned poems. Some are conscious of themselves, addressing the notion of the reader as well as the writer: "Where are you, reader,/ who have not paused in your walk/ to look over my shoulder/ to see what I am jotting in my notebook?" And some address larger issues: the passage of time, death, life's purpose. "Crashing through the iron gates of life/ is what it's all about," the poet decides as he stretches out on the carpet in service to the day he has chosen to seize. "Poetry is a place where both [listening and being listened to] are true at once,/ where meaning only one thing at a time spells malfunction." In these poems, readers will find Collins honoring both with bits of wisdom and considerable delight. Essential for contemporary poetry collections.--Karla Huston, Appleton Art Ctr., Appleton, WI (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by School Library Journal Review
Adult/High School-Accessibility is the word that comes immediately to mind when considering Billy Collins's poetry, and this collection will surely add to his popularity and praise. Few, if any, poets writing today can match his combination of wit, humor, and irony with equal measures of close observation, intelligence, and passion. Most of his poems can be appreciated with a single reading, but many reveal deeper thought and emotion with repeated readings. Collins is a master at employing simple, direct language to explore the wonders and mysteries of this world. Seemingly without effort, and never forcefully, he consistently invites readers to join him as he notices, considers, and comments on a wide range of profound and mundane aspects of life. All of this is particularly important when readers are relatively inexperienced in the world of poetry. It is safe to say that the legions of teens bored to tears by the likes of Eliot, Pound, and Auden in their English lit classes might form a more accepting view of poetry if they were first introduced to the genre by the work of Collins. This collection includes a poem titled "Oh, MY God!" which, in nine short lines, and with devilish wit, captures the essence of that all-too-popular exclamation in contemporary teen culture. And it is but one example of the many choice nuggets to be found here.-Robert Saunderson, Berkeley Public Library, CA (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
