By (Greek deity) Persephone; Glück, Louise
Averno is a small crater lake in southern Italy, seemed by way of the traditional Romans because the front to the underworld. That position provides its identify to Louise Glück's 10th assortment: in a panorama grew to become irretrievably to wintry weather, it's a gate or passageway that invitations site visitors among worlds whereas while resisting their reconciliation. Averno is a longer lamentation, its lengthy, stressed poems no much less spellbinding for being with no traditional resoltution or comfort, no much less ravishing for being savage, grief-stricken. What Averno offers isn't a map to some degree of arrival or departure, yet a diagram of the place we're, the harrowing, enduring present.
Averno is a 2006 nationwide publication Award Finalist for Poetry.
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Extra info for Averno: Poems
I taped a sign over the mirror: You cannot hate matter and love form. It was a beautiful day, though cold. This was, for me, an extravagantly emotional gesture. your poem: tried, but could not. I taped a sign over the first sign: Cry, weep, thrash yourself, rend your garments— List of things to love: dirt, food, shells, human hair. said tasteless excess. Then I rent the signs. AIAIAIAI cried the naked mirror. BLUE ROTUNDA I am tired of having hands she said I want wings— But what will you do without your hands to be human?
And why is this hypothesis never discussed? Because it is not in the story; it only creates the story. In grief, after the daughter dies, the mother wanders the earth. She is preparing her case; like a politician she remembers everything and admits nothing. For example, her daughter’s birth was unbearable, her beauty was unbearable: she remembers this. She remembers Persephone’s innocence, her tenderness— What is she planning, seeking her daughter? She is issuing a warning whose implicit message is: what are you doing outside my body?
The riddle was: why couldn’t we live in the mind. The answer was: the barrier of the earth intervened. 19. The room was quiet. That is, the room was quiet, but the lovers were breathing. In the same way, the night was dark. It was dark, but the stars shone. The man in bed was one of several men to whom I gave my heart. The gift of the self, that is without limit. Without limit, though it recurs. The room was quiet. It was an absolute, like the black night. 20. A night in summer. Sounds of a summer storm.
Averno: Poems by (Greek deity) Persephone; Glück, Louise