From Origin to Ecology: Nature and the Poetry of W.S. Merwin
Fairleigh Dickinson Univ Press, 1999 - 138 pages
"Frazier examines Merwin's poetry with regard to ecocriticism, anthropology, Merwin's fellow poets, Merwin criticism, and his own essays and interviews. Of central importance is Merwin's indebtedness to Henry David Thoreau, his sense that Thoreau guided American writing in a new direction whereby nature could be seen as something of value for itself."--BOOK JACKET.
What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
able Accompaniment American animals appears become beginning belief bird bring calling Carrier of Ladders closing comes concept concern connection consciousness continues critics culture death describes desire destruction disembodied division early earth ecological environment environmental existence experience explains express fall feel Flower follow forests future garden going Hand Hawaii Hawaiian hear hope humankind humans Ibid images imagination important Indian indicates interview knowledge land language leaves Lice lines listen living loss lost meaning Moving narrator native natural world never offers once Opening original ourselves past physical planet poems poet poetry possibility present Press Rain readers relationship remains represent sense silence society sound speaker species spiritual things Thoreau traditional Travellers Trees turn understanding University voice volume W. S. Merwin Writings York
Page 26 - And we are enabled to apprehend at all what is sublime and noble only by the perpetual instilling and drenching of the reality that surrounds us.
Page 22 - A THING of beauty is a joy for ever : Its loveliness increases ; it will never Pass into nothingness ; but still will keep A bower quiet for us, and a sleep Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Page 47 - We must have a turn together, I undress, hurry me out of sight of . the land, Cushion me soft, rock me in billowy drowse, Dash me with amorous wet, I can repay you. Sea of...
Page 48 - Smile O voluptuous cool-breath'd earth! Earth of the slumbering and liquid trees! Earth of departed sunset— earth of the mountains mistytopt! Earth of the vitreous pour of the full moon just tinged with blue! Earth of shine and dark mottling the tide of the river! Earth of the limpid gray of clouds brighter and clearer for my sake! Far-swooping elbow'd earth— rich apple-blossom'd earth! Smile, for your lover comes.
Page 59 - Land, then, is not merely soil; it is a fountain of energy flowing through a circuit of soils, plants, and animals. Food chains are the living channels which conduct energy upward; death and decay return it to the soil. The circuit is not closed; some energy is dissipated in decay, some is added by absorption from the air, some is stored in soils, peats, and long-lived forests; but it is a sustained circuit, like a slowly augmented revolving fund of life.
Page 32 - ... was not corn, and so it was safe from such enemies as he. You may wonder what his rigmarole, his amateur Paganini performances on one string or on twenty, have to do with your planting, and yet prefer it to leached ashes or plaster. It was a cheap sort of top dressing in which I had entire faith. As I drew a still fresher soil about the rows with my hoe, I disturbed the ashes of unchronicled nations...
Page 32 - When my hoe tinkled against the stones, that music echoed to the woods and the sky, and was an accompaniment to my labor which yielded an instant and immeasurable crop. It was no longer beans that I hoed, nor I that hoed beans ; and I remembered with as much pity as pride, if I remembered at all, my acquaintances who had gone to the city to attend the oratorios.
Page 71 - BEGINNING The moon drops one or two feathers into the field. The dark wheat listens. Be still. Now. There they are, the moon's young, trying Their wings. Between trees, a slender woman lifts up the lovely shadow Of her face, and now she steps into the air, now she is gone Wholly, into the air.
Page 32 - Ancient poetry and mythology suggest, at least, that husbandry was once a sacred art; but it is pursued with irreverent haste and heedlessness by us, our object being to have large farms and large crops merely.