Bill Holm was an American poet, essayist, memoirist, and musician.
Holm was born on a farm north of Minneota, Minnesota, the grandson of Icelandic immigrants. He attended Gustavus Adolphus College in Saint Peter, Minnesota where he graduated in 1965. Later, he attended the University of Kansas.
Holm won a Fulbright and went to Iceland for a year, which stretched into longer. He continued to visit Iceland so regularly that his friends there helped him find a house in Hofsós. His last book, The Windows of Brimnes, is about his time in Iceland.
He was Professor Emeritus of English at Southwest Minnesota State University, where he taught classes on poetry and literature until his retirement in 2007. Though Minneota was his home, Holm had traveled the world, teaching English in China, spending summers in Iceland and late winters in Arizona, and visiting Europe and Madagascar.
Holm was a frequent guest on Garrison Keillor's A Prairie Home Companion radio show and some of his poems were included in Keillor's Writer's Almanac.
Holm was a McKnight Distinguished Artist in 2008, an award that honors Minnesota artists for their life work.
Bill Holm's gifts are on full display in this wonderful collection of poems. He explores his loves - the people who surround him, his visits to Iceland, his deep affection for classical music and his piano. Highly recommended.
Another personally dedicated and autographed book of poetry that I bought at the Friends of the Library book sale. Already explained why that upsets me in my last review, so I won't ramble on about it in this one.
This book surprised me a good bit. I had never heard of Bill Holm before this, but I will be seeking out more of his work soon. This one has such a quietly dignified sorrow to it - a lilting treatise on death, grief, music, the midwest, Iceland... It's all here and yet it all ties together so beautifully. There is a simple diction to his poetry, but its simplicity is only skin deep. His metaphors linger after you have finished a poem.
I was slow to warm to the book. I haven't decided if that is because I like the early poems less or because it took me awhile to come around to his voice. Overall, most of my favorite poems in the collection reside near the end. Not sure why that matters - just throwing it out there.
The Dead Get By with Everything, by Bill Holm, 1990. Holm has an unmistakable voice of his own, somewhat edgy, wryly humorous, gritty and philosophical at the same time. I liked this volume of his poems, which I read in this year of Holm’s passing. From “A Spring Walk around Swede Prairie Slough”:
You never see anything right until you see it twice: once in this world, once more in the other one.