Second Childhood
Poems
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- $9.99
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- $9.99
Publisher Description
The new poetry collection by Fanny Howe, whose "body of work seems larger, stranger, and more permanent with each new book she publishes" (Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize citation)
People want to be poets for reasons that have little to do with language.
It's the life of the poet that they want.
Even the glow of loneliness and humiliation.
To walk in the gutter with a bottle of wine.
Some people's lives are more poetic than a poem,
and Francis is certainly one of these.
I know, because he walked beside me for that short time
whether you believe it or not.
—from "Outremer"
Fanny Howe's poetry is known for its lyricism, fragmentation, experimentation, religious engagement, and commitment to social justice. In Second Childhood, the observing poet is an impersonal figure who accompanies Howe in her encounters with chance and mystery. She is not one age or the other, in one time or another. She writes, "The first question in the Catechism is: / What was humanity born for? / To be happy is the correct answer."
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
Recipient of the 2009 Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize for lifetime achievement, Howe (Come and See) is masterfully lyrical in her newest collection, one marbled throughout with musings over identity. Howe navigates between indeterminate and shifting speakers and addressees with a wide array of tools, like obfuscating shadows, contradictions, and a precious, serene delicacy that channels a childlike marvel, contenting the speaker to present images without interrogation: "A pebbled island/ is a kind of barge:/ seaweed blackened/ another glacial strand.// White quartz.// Some green mermaid's tears." References to childhood, along with religion, are prevalent, such as in the title poem: "I have a fairy rosary called Silver who answers/ questions when I dangle her in the sun at the window./ So I've asked her if I have a big ego and she swings/ from side to side to say no." Moreover, Howe complicates this type of pristine grace with rejection that perpetuates the speaker's curiosity in the lines that follow: "We don't understand why we are here in the world/ with horrible grown-ups or what the lessons are that/ we're supposed to learn./ It's not helpful for us to hear ourselves described in/ religious, geriatric or psychological terms." Howe may occupy some familiar and traditional poetic spaces, but she populates them beautifully.