Eleanor's Reviews > The Wild Iris

The Wild Iris by Louise Glück
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Apr 24, 10


Spring is the season for this book.

Many voices here: of flowers, of woman, of god, of seasons and times of day. I think they are not as simple as they sound at first read. Is a flower a necessarily easy symbol?

Some of the images recur, which is not to say they are repetitive (though the book takes this risk, I think) or a distraction in such a cohesive collection. Some lines will haunt me for a while -- the first line of the title (and first) poem, for example: "At the end of my suffering / there was a door."
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