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Vita Nova

He poet Robert Hass her invention Vita Nova like its immediate predecessors a booklength seuence combines the ecstatic utterance of The Wild Iris with the worldly dramas elaborated in Meadowlands Vita Nova is a book that exists in the long moment of spring a book of deaths and beginnings resignation and hope; brutal luminous and far s An enjoyabl

Summary ¼ PDF, DOC, TXT, eBook or Kindle ePUB free ´ Louise Glück

Winner of the Nobel Prize in LiteratureIn Vita Nova Pulitzer Prize winning poet Louise Glück manages the apparently impossible a terrifying act of perspective that brings into resolution the smallest human hope and the vast forces that shape and thwart itSince Ararat in 1990 Louise Glück has been exploring a form that is according to t No one want The Deception of the Emerald Ring (Pink Carnation, exploring a form that is according to t No one want

Louise Glück ´ 2 Characters

EeingLike late Yeats Vita Nova dares large statement By turns stern interlocutor and ardent novitiate Glück compasses the essential human paradox In Vita Nova Louise Glück manages the apparently impossible a terrifying act of perspective that brings into resolution the smallest human hope and the vast forces that thwart and shape it? Surely spri

10 thoughts on “Vita Nova

  1. says:

    My soul dried upLike a soul cast into fire but not completelynot to annihilation Parchedit continued Brittlenot from solitude but from mistrusthow will you ever again believethe love of another being? We are all human—we protect ourselvesas well as we caneven to the point of denyingclarity the pointof self deceptionAnd yet within this deceptiontrue happiness occurredSo that I believe I wouldrepeat these errors exactlyNor does it seem to mecrucial to knowwhether or not such happinessis built on illusionit has its own realityAnd in either case it will end

  2. says:

    No one wants to be the muse;in the end everybody wants to be OrpheusValiantly reconstructedout of terror and painand then overwhelmingly beautiful;restoring ultimatelynot Eurydice the lamented onebut the ardent spirit of Orpheus made presentnot as a human being ratheras pure soul rendereddetached immortalthrough deflected narcissismI made a harp of disaster to perpetuate the beauty of my last loveYet my anguish such as it isremains the struggle for formand my dreams if I speak openlyless the wish to be remembered than the wish to survivewhich is I believe the deepest human wish

  3. says:

    The Winged Horse It's ten years ago today you turned me out the doorTo cut my feet on flinty lands and stumble down the shoreAnd I thought about the all in all Oh than I could tellBut I caught a horse to ride upon and I rode him very wellHe had flame behind the eyes of him and wings upon his sideAnd I ride and I rideI rode him out of Wantage End I rode him up the hillAnd there I saw the beacon in the morning standing stillInkpen and Hagpen and southward and awayHigh through the middle airs in the heat of the dayAnd there I saw the channel glint and England in her prideAnd I ride and I rideAnd once atop of Lambourne Down towards the hill of ClereI saw the host of Heaven in rank and Michael with his spearAnd Turpin out of Gascony and Charlemagne the lordAnd Roland of the Marches with his hand upon his swordFor the time he should have need of it; and forty besideAnd I ride; and I rideFor you that took the all in all the things you left were threeA loud voice for singing and keen eyes to seeAnd a spouting well of joy within that never yet was driedAnd I ride

  4. says:

    An enjoyable collection but with a weaker and less distinct voice overall than her other work It was written very much in the Mary Oliver style of forgettable if decent mainstream poetry The recurring imagery of a hell on earth in its various manifestations somewhat saves itHighlights Descent to the Valley Immortal Love Eurydice Seizure

  5. says:

    My first collection from the prolific Pulitzer winner Some of the poems are built around self interrogation with a uestion and answer format; several reflect on the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice The first and last poems are both entitled “Vita Nova” while another in the middle is called “The New Life” I enjoyed the language of spring in the first “Vita Nova” and in “The Nest” but I was unconvinced by much of what Glück writes about love and self knowledge some of it very clichéd indeed eg “I found the years of the climb upward difficult filled with anxiety” from “Descent to the Valley” and “My life took me many places many of them very dark” from “The Mystery” I also disliked “The Winged Horse” which starts “Here is my horse Abstraction” and goes on to discuss other constructs If I were to try something else by Glück I would want a solid recommendationFavorite lines“I with my inflexible Platonism my fierce seeing of only one thing at a time I ruled against the indefinite article And yet the mistakes of my youth made me hopeless because they repeated themselves as is commonly true” from “Unwritten Law”On spring “The spring of the year; young men buying tickets for the ferryboats Laughter because the air is full of apple blossoms” from “Vita Nova” “Spring descended Or should one say rose? yellow green of forsythia the Commons planted with new grass— the new protected always” from “Ellsworth Avenue”

  6. says:

    In Vita Nova Louise Glück returns to her most common themes Love and DeathSurely spring has been returned to me this timenot as a lover but a messenger of death yetit is still spring it is still meant tenderly Vita Nova I pg 2Brutal to love brutal to dieAnd brutal beyond the reaches of justiceto die of love The ueen of Carthage pg 5I was afraid of love of being taken awayEveryone afraid of love is afraid of death Timor Mortis pg 15Throughout the text in a number of voices that interact with the poet with the reader with each other reminiscent of a Greek Chorus Glück evokes imagery of life in transitionHow sweet my life nowin its descent to the valleythe valley itself not mist coveredbut fertile and tranuilSo that for the first time I find myselfable to look ahead able to look at the worldeven to move toward it Descent to the Valley pg 19Springdescended Or should one sayrose? Should one say rose up?At the Butlers' housewitch hazel in bloom Ellsworth Avenue pg 40One can't help but wonder what transition may have been occurring in the poet's life to inspire these poemsLike a doorthe body opened andthe soul looked outTimidly at first thenless timidlyuntil it was safeThen in hunger it venturedThen in brazen hungerthen at the invitation of any desire Immortal Love pg 23I met my love under an orange treeor was it an acacia treeor was he not my love? Castile pg 27The most prominent of the voices in Vita Nova is the voice that asks uestions and repeats itselfDo you remember your childhood?I understood that the magnitude of these giftswas balanced by the scope of my rejectionDo you remember your childhood?I lay in the forestStill still than any living creatureWatching the sun rise Timor Mortis pg 16Are you healed or do you only think you're healed?I told myselffrom nothingnothing could be taken awayBut can you love anyone yet?When I feel safe I can loveBut will you touch anyone? Mutable Earth pg 29It is noteworthy that the poet evokes ancientantiuated texts such as Orpheus and Eurydice of Greek Mythology The Golden Bough of Virgil's Aeneid Dante's Inferno andDante's Vita Nova It is noteworthy too that the collection begins and ends with a poem entitled Vita NovaNo one wants to be the muse;in the end everyone wants to be OrpheusValiantly reconstructedout of terror and painand then overwhelmingly beautiful;restoring ultimatelynot Eurydice the lamented onebut the ardentspirit of Orpheus made presentnot as a human being ratheras our soul rendereddetached immortalthrough deflected narcissism Lute Song pg 17Even the goddess of lovefights for her children her vanitynotwithstanding than other heroesAeneas flourished And the sacrifice of loveless painful than for the other heroes The Golden Bough pg 33Why did you move away?I walked out of the fire alive;how can that be?How much was lost?Nothing was lost it was alldestroyed Destructionis the result of action Inferno pg42In the splitting up dreamwe were fighting over who would keepthe dogBlizzard You tell mewhat that name means He wasa cross betweensomething big and fluffy and a dachshund Does this have to bethe male and femalegenitalia? Poor Blizzardwhy was he a dog? He barely touchedthe hummus in his dogwood dishThen there was something elsea sound Likegravel being moved Or sand?The sands of time? Then it wasArica with her maracaspersonified Who willexplain this to the dog? BlizzardDaddy needs you; Daddy's heart is emptynot because he's leaving Mommy but becausethe kind of love he wants Mommydoesn't have Mommy'stoo ironic Mommy wouldn't dothe rhumba in the driveway Oris this wrong SupposingI'm the dog as inmy child self unconsolable becausecompletely pre verbal? Withanorexia O Blizzardbe a brave dog this is all material; you'll wake upin a different worldyou will eat again you will grow up into a poetLife is very weird no matter how it endsvery filled with dreams Neverwill I forget your face your frantic human eyesswollen with tears I thought my life was over and my heart was brokenThen I moved to Cambridge Vita Nova II pg 50 51My favourite poem in Vita NovaI became a creature of lightI sat in a driveway in California;the roses were hydrant color; a babyrolled by in its yellow stroller makingbubbling fishlike soundsI sat in a folding chairreading Nero Wolfe for the twentieth timea mystery that has become restfulI know who the innocent are; I have acuired in some measurethe genius of the master in whose supple mindtime moves in two directions backwardfrom the act to the motiveand forward to just resolutionFearless heart never tremble againthe only shadow is the narrow palm'sthat cannot enclose you absolutelyNot like the shadows of the eastMy life took me many placesmany of them very darkIt took me without my volitionpushing me from behindfrom one world to another likethe fishlike babyAnd it was all entirely arbitrarywithout discernible formThe passionate threats and uestionsthe old search for justicemust have been entirely deludedAnd yet I saw amazing thingsI became almost radiant at the end;I carried my book everywherelike an eager studentchanging to these simple mysteriesso that I might silence myselfthe last accusations Who are you and what is your purpose? The Mystery pg 46 47

  7. says:

    Surely spring has been returned to me this timenot as a lover but a messenger of death yetit is still spring it is meant tenderlyA slim little book that circles around death and loss particularly women loved and forsaken or lost the voice of the poet herself presumably mixed with that of Eurydice Dido Penelope and the men that left them; Aeneas who has enough love already in the very blood that runs in his veins; Orpheus I have lost my Eurydice I have lost my lover and suddenly I am speaking French and it seems to me I have never been in better voice and the unnamed 'you' that a number of the call and answer poems addressI find Gluck's poems here lurched for me between transcendent and strangely cliched sometimes the words spring off the page and sometimes they feel well used and unremarkable well known thoughts delivered in well known words And yet a number of the poems did sing out to me particularly those around Dido I've always had a soft spot for Dido and been appalled at her fate a strong women the leader of her people horse traded by two goddesses finding love in a cave on the mountainside having a brief period of ecstasy and then having the story come in and rip her love and her life away It always felt so dreadfully unfair Why could Aeneas have just not landed his damn ship someplace else?So 'The ueen of Carthage'Brutal to love brutal to dieAnd brutal beyond the reaches of justiceto die of loveIn the end Didosummoned her ladies in waitingthat they might seethe harsh destiny inscribed for her by the FatesShe said “Aeneascame to me over the shimmering water;I asked the Fatesto permit him to return my passioneven for a short time What differencebetween that and a lifetime in truth in such momentsthey are the same they are both eternityI was given a great giftwhich I attempted to increase to prolongAeneas came to me over the water the beginningblinded meNow the ueen of Carthagewill accept suffering as she accepted favorto be noticed by the Fatesis some distinction after allOr should one say to have honored hungersince the Fates go by that name also”And then most of all 'The Burning Heart' No sadnessis greater than in misery to rehearsememories of joy Ask her if she regrets anythingI waspromised to another I lived with someoneYou forget these things when you're touchedAsk how he touched herHis gaze touched mebefore his hands touched meAsk how he touched herI didn't ask for anything;everything was givenAsk her what she remembersWe were hauled into the underworldI thoughtwe were not responsibleany than we were responsiblefor being alive I wasa young girl rarely subject to censurethen a pariah did I change that muchfrom one day to the next?If I didn't change wasn't my actionin the character of that young girl?Ask her what she remembersI noticed nothing I noticedI was tremblingAsk her if the fire hurtsI rememberwe were togetherAnd gradually I understoodthat though neither of us ever movedwe were not together but profoundly separateAsk her if the fire hurtsYou expect to live forever with your husbandin fire durable than the worldI suppose this wish was grantedwhere we are now being bothfire and eternity Do you regret your life?Even before I was touched I belonged to you;you had only to look at me

  8. says:

    It’s interesting to read this post MFA Gluck is likely one of my biggest influences to study poetry I read her in college and was absolutely hypnotized I would have given anything to have written those poems Now ten years post grad school and five books later I re read it to see how I’d feel Many poems still spoke deeply to me in all their haunting sparseness in their isolating world of doom and wonder And yet I feel like if I were to write like this I’d be treated like a joke She uses so many abstractions she freuently talks about intangible things like “the soul” or “the heart” which grad school trained out of me as cliche Sometimes the metaphors seem too easy a bird building a nest in a barren place becomes a metaphor for survival There’s never any narrative it’s rooted solely in emotion another thing workshops basically demanded I stop doing They kept saying but what’s the context? But what’s at stake? And yet and yetwhere would I be had these poems not entered my life when they did? And how and why do they still sometimes strike like a gong?? That being said I met Gluck while I was in grad school and nearly cried telling her how much she meant to me and she was really cold she just looked at me and said “anne with an e or not?” And then signed my book and said next without even looking at me again

  9. says:

    On the hierarchy of her own work I'd put this collection between The Wild Iris and Seven Ages Not uite her best but not my least favorite either Moments of utter brilliance Moments that felt a little stagey Also an unexpected humor in parts that felt wry after so much of Gluck's trademark intensity from Condo I hate When your own dreams treat you as stupid from Mutable Earth In the bathtub I examine my body We're supposed to do that Noticed the constant upward and downward shifts in subject matter from infernos to condos earthly love to immortal love which works well with her shifts from reality to dream and the ethereal to the earthly One of my favorite lines from my favorite brutal poem in the collection from Earthly Love So that I believe I would repeat these errors exactly Love the idea of memory as enabling precise wandering

  10. says:

    This is my favorite Gluck book of those I've read not nearly all I don't know what my favorite is among those I have not read yet I love the fun she has with the lyric tradition People so often misread her as this uber sincere confessional writer when I think she actually skewers the personal lyric tradition cogently and hilariously than so many avant garde poets who tend to be much ham fisted in their attacks The way she gets herself out of this collection the final poem is a nonpareil literary sleight of mind Talk about Deus Ex Machina I love this book

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