Quick Question: New Poems

by John Ashbery

Hailed by Harold Bloom as "America’s greatest living poet," John Ashbery has won every major American literary award for his poetry, including the Pulitzer Prize, the National Book Award, the Griffin Poetry Prize, and the National Book Critics Circle Award. A beloved and gifted artist, Ashbery takes his place beside Whitman, Dickinson, Stevens, and Hart Crane in the canon of great American poets. With Quick Question , a new collection of poems published in time for his 85th birthday, John Ashbery proves that his creative power has only grown stronger with age.

Genres: Poetry, 21st Century

128 pages, Hardcover

First published October 16, 2012

About the author

Formal experimentation and connection to visual art of noted American poet John Ashbery of the original writers of New York School won a Pulitzer Prize for Self-portrait in a Convex Mirror (1975).

From Harvard and Columbia, John Ashbery earned degrees, and he traveled of James William Fulbright to France in 1955. He published more than twenty best known collections, most recently A Worldly Country (2007). Wystan Hugh Auden selected early Some Trees for the younger series of Elihu Yale, and he later obtained the major national book award and the critics circle. He served as executive editor of Art News and as the critic for magazine and Newsweek. A member of the academies of letters and sciences, he served as chancellor from 1988 to 1999. He received many awards internationally and fellowships of John Simon Guggenheim and John Donald MacArthur from 1985 to 1990. People translated his work into more than twenty languages. He lived and from 1990 served as the Charles P. Stevenson Jr. professor of languages and literature at Bard college.

Reviews

[Jon Nakapalau · Rating 5 out of 5]

Like having a conversation with someone sitting next to you on the bus - you look out the window and everything is moving; and the commentary provided lets you see things you would never have noticed before they blur away - inspired.

[Anne · Rating 2 out of 5]

I feel like Ashbery is responsible for so many people telling me "I don't understand poetry." His poetry is inaccessible and senseless. I often felt like I was listening to a schizophrenic talk to me. It was in English, but I could not make any logical connections in terms of meaning. Ashbery angers me, because I'm of the camp that believes poetry should be moving and should mean something. His popularity and awards anger me even more: are we TRYING to make poetry an extinct art form with no readers?

[Kyo · Rating 1 out of 5]

There were a couple of nice phrases for sure, but sadly that couldn't make up for the fact that none of these poems could hold my attention or even just pique my interest, but no, I had to actively put these poems in front of me. It wasn't even that they were difficult - I like difficult poems most of the time, even when I'm too tired to understand it I can appreciate poems you have to do some work for, but these poems just felt like random phrases that just didn't really do anything for me...

[Anselm · Rating 5 out of 5]

"I often pee sometimes."

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

Delightful poems, playing with language.

[Andrew · Rating 3 out of 5]

I did not find as many poems wholly magical as I usually do in an Ashbery book, but "The Future of the Dance" is pretty great:

Who do we go to?
Depending on who they are, children
work in the fields. Vacation is coming
and they expect life will go on like this
for several mornings in a row. Hurry, sewing machine,
the quicker to accomplish what is expected of you.
Fish leap partly out of the water. And the air is new.

Earlier, illustrious strangers accosted us
(depending on who they are), bade us sit
and listen as though to a tale. And in the sky,
collapsing fountains watered our feet
as their long-winded account lubricated the airs
and vines that stirred in them then.
No one expects life to be a single adventure,
yet conversely, one is surprised when it turns disappointing,
as tales so often do when the telling doth outpace
the situation. Hurry up and sleep,
I suggest. And if that proves lonely,
the song will not have gone for naught.

Painted groves do more for prowess
than terraces and minarets. Bicycles revive
the landscapes they are scoring. Better a silent
accordion than a chorus of harps, be they this way
or that other, crying crystal drops
that hang about once evening has made its weather.
Blander scenes were always the one farther away,
but these leaves that curled in our hands,
fig and nettle, survive in a notch of time
clocks cannot undo, nor fortune despoliate.

[Heather · Rating 2 out of 5]

I have a hard time with John Ashbery's poems, but I keep trying anyway. I think the problem is that I like to read poems that are more recognizably set in this world; I like poems that are "about" everyday life but told in a way that focuses on luminous detail, or that somehow makes things sing—I'm thinking of poets like David Lehman and Mark Doty, who are stylistically different but who both, I think, do this. Ashbery's poems are doing something else, and I'm not sure what. His tone is often conversational, and he's got a great ear for speech patterns, for everyday language; he sometimes uses bits of other texts (from a line from Gammer Gurton's Needle to a phrase from "Mary Had a Little Lamb"). But poems that start by feeling straightforward end up going elsewhere. Look at the first poem in this book, "Words to That Effect": that great "slow then fast,/then slow again," and the image at the end of the first stanza, and how at the end, in the third stanza, things veer weirder.

There are some striking passages in this book, things like this, from the title poem:

the landscaped sucked in its breath,

taking its time as always.

And there's humor, like this, in "Recent History":

They were early, as usual. Can't you guys ever
be late, we wondered, though one wouldn't
necessarily want that either. [...]

My favorite poems in this book are probably "How I Met You" and the prose poem "Homeless Heart". I smiled at the wordplay elsewhere in the book, "census" and "sensory" in one poem, and "cavity" and "caveats" and "tocsins" and "toxins" in the poem called "Far Harbor," which ends with this:

[...] The broad petals of language
are stiff and may get very bad.
They make it very bad
in our language tutoring.

but I often felt like, in any given poem, I couldn't quite find my way in. "Everything remains invigoratingly at sea," writes Charles Bainbridge, in this review in the Guardian, but I'm not sure I found it invigorating.

[Samantha · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was surprised at the playfulness in Ashbery's newest work. It seems he's gone from writing very serious, philosophical poems at the beginning of his career to writing more witty poems in his old age. Also notable is how much shorter these poems are, compared to some of his earlier work. Then again, Ashbery is a master at reinventing his style with each new book, and Quick Question is no exception. I enjoyed these poems, though not as much as the longer, more ramblings works from his earlier years. There is a cleverness to them and play on words and nursery rhymes that will suit the tastes of some, but probably not all, readers.

[c · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Somewhere in America someone is trying to figure out
how to pay for this, bouncing a ball
off a wooden strut."--"This Economy"

"The four-way was conceived as a permission.
Nobody knows I'm a nudist."--"Tango and Schottische"

"It almost seems-
and yet it doesn't."--"Bells II"

[Cathy · Rating 4 out of 5]

quite brilliant

[Q.P. Moreno · Rating 1 out of 5]

Cómo se puede leer a Ashbery en el siglo xxi? Bueno, primero imagina que Frank O'Hara hubiese vivido lo suficiente para aficionarse al cine de autores como Noah Baumbach y Sofia Coppola. Luego supón que, queriendo recordar lo que es apasionarse, se sentara junto a ti en un parque y te interrogara sobre algunas experiencias que te resultan demasiado particulares, demasiado ajenos, pero no de forma provocadora sino desde una confusión genuina y a la vez cargada de presunciones yanquis. Me explico? Es un viejo demasiado bien vestido para ser loquito de la calle o una figura parecida. Creo que tampoco es melancólico, ni precisamente nostálgico o patético. Es un tipo de verdad aburrido y no parece interrogarte por el sentimiento sino desde su propia curiosidad, para sus propios propósitos austeros. No le importa mucho cómo le respondas ni tampoco es una reflexión muy valiosa para ti.

Me asusta ser injusto, pensar que estoy desestimando a un gran poeta, pero no le encuentro nada que me interese. Solo a veces, tal vez, cuando cobra consciencia de lo que es, cuando canaliza los temas de sus viejos contemporáneos...

A loud noise will contradict silence every time.
Memory is so busy, retrieving orbs thought glistery
in their day, now a source of indignation.
Perhaps that's why the contest rules stressed sincerity,
neatness, and aptness of thought. Who else
would be looking out for one, after all, at this late date?
It's a backward odyssey, ending at the poisoned spring,
with nothing, ever, to be done about it, or blame apportioned
in old newspapers blown across blue
pavement into chain-link fence, sad to see us go.

[Jeff Holland · Rating 4 out of 5]

Like most abstract poetry, Ashbery's work can be appreciated if you don't take the idea of poetry too seriously, if you don't come to it with the expectation that every line will yield to your interpretative will and reveal its profound inner meaning through contemplative conquest. Ultimately it is a joyride, a playground of words. It cobbles fragments of speech, cultural allusions, surreal imagery, defiances of logic, and linguistic exercises à la "colorless green ideas sleep furiously" into a crunchy verbal gravel that slides down the slope of consciousness. It jabs and pokes comically into the corners of the reader's imagination. It coyly invites, then suddenly rejects interpretations. It is never easy, always keeping you on your toes, but also not overly dense or long, always bouncing along at an energetic pace.

The hate for Ashbery is entirely understandable from the perspective that "poetry must make sense." Yet I think it would be wrong to say that Ashbery's poetry is strictly nonsensical or meaningless. It teeters on the border between sense and nonsense, never quite committing to either. It juggles meanings and interpretations like glass bowling balls, sometimes letting them fall to the ground and crash into a million pieces. It zigs into casual street dialects, then zags jnto esoetric academicisms, sometimes in one sentence. It treats language like silly putty, stretching it into odd shapes in a spirit of "what if?" It's fun! It's games! It's poetry.

[Jon-Carlo · Rating 1 out of 5]

Are his old poems better?

Really bummed that my first time diving into Ashberry was w this, it felt like he watched a greta thunberg vid and got manic - i was much more drawn to his explorations of climate change that weren’t so rooted in the present. there were some cool parts but holy shit john ashberry turn off the news challenge. one of the last poems talks about “collusion” and elections and i had to go back to make sure it wasn’t abt trump (written in 2012 so maybe he’s just a fortune teller) but still that was just emblematic for me of how eye roll this entire collection was.

maybe i’m dumb tho

[Courtney · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 stars: I'm frustrated by Ashbery's writing because I want to like some of its wordplay and its questioning, not to mention his connections to Western New York, but it feels way too cerebral and stagnant. The poems don't move anywhere new, uncover anything throughout their unfolding... the framing and angle is all wrong.

[Kelly · Rating 3 out of 5]

It’s me. I struggle reading poetry.

[joel · Rating 5 out of 5]

“Process was the only real thing that happened.”

[Danny · Rating 1 out of 5]

DNF 50%

[Emmeline · Rating 5 out of 5]

Irreverently luminous. Another reader aptly describes it as kaleidoscopic. It's the type of art that compels you to lower your voice to a hush- the way you do in a museum when, under the scowl of museum attendants | and irresistibly moved to speech, you lean toward your companion-- making sure to catch the laughter in your throat-- to sneak fistfuls of inspired reveries, like secret sweetness - and savor with those who are happy to taste it.


"When I think of finishing the work, when I think of the finished work, a great sadness overtakes me, a sadness paradoxically like joy. The circumstances of doing put away, the being of it takes possession, like a tenant in a rented house. Where are you now, homeless heart? Caught in a hinge, or secreted behind drywall, like your nameless predecessors now that they have been given names? Best not to dwell on our situation, but to dwell in it is deeply refreshing. Like a sideboard covered with decanters and fruit. As a box kite is to a kite. The inside of stumbling. The way to breath. The caricature on the blackboard."

"There’s time you were owed, and the time you owned, and between them
the match that was called."

"We wove closer to the abyss, a maze of sunflowers. The dauphin said to take our time."

[Kimberly Seibert · Rating 2 out of 5]

I had no expectations when I read this book, it was grabbed at the library mainly because of the wallpaper like spine and question mark cover; which I found to be intriguing. I didn't connect with much of this work but I did see this book of poems through to the end. Upon learning at the end, that John Ashbery has other works of poetry that have won awards I think I will give one of those a shot.

[Jill · Rating 3 out of 5]

Poetry that doesn't quite fit together, that doesn't follow any real line, that doesn't relate to the title or the previous stanza, is difficult to parse. Not unrewarding, but difficult. For many of Ashbery's poems, I felt the way I do when I read Zen koans...like there's something at the core of it, something perhaps inexpressible or unobtainable, but deeply present.

Others were like shockingly beautiful.

But 3.5 stars, for now, until a reread (when I'm sure that'll get bumped up).

[Liam Malone · Rating 3 out of 5]

This represents difficult poetry. Half the time I am lost and not sure where I have been in each poem. So much is obtuse and doesn't make sense to me. But at the same time, I can tell I'm reading good poetry. it is just my inability to comprehend it. This is worth rereading soon and I will, and hopefully have something more intelligent to say.

[Ben Jaques-Leslie · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm starting to more frequently read poetry. With basically no experience, I took a stab in the dark and got this book at the cool poetry bookstore in Cambridge. These are all brief, loose poems. I can't say that I "understood" any of them, if that is the point of reading poetry, which I'm not totally sure about. I enjoyed some of the poems. I didn't love any.

[Jordan · Rating 3 out of 5]

New Ash is Ash worth reading all the same: has its highs and lows but like most of these small volumes of his that dribble out in recent years, not through-and-through supreme. The last two poems are the best and most profound, almost as commentary on his whole oeuvre. Check those out, commit them to memory, and go back to reading Flow Chart, which never ends (nor should it).

[Pamela · Rating 3 out of 5]

Perhaps this collection is a little better than Ashbery's older works. Still much of the poetry seems too random. The print type, font, and look of the actual book enticed me to try his poetry one more time.

[Scott · Rating 4 out of 5]

So far it seems like a return to the vibrancy and range of vocabulary and expression of Houseboat Days. The vocabulary is heterogeneous, the effects more kaleidoscopic, far more than the later volume Breezeway, which in comparison seems laconic and sparse, although often equally zany.

[Lupe Dominguez · Rating 3 out of 5]

Pretty sure I have no idea what I just read...but the style was pretty cool? Ugh. I'll try again. Poetry, anyways.

[Davis · Rating 2 out of 5]

eh

[Nicky Enriquez · Rating 3 out of 5]

This collection really wasn't for me. Ashbury is a well regarded and celebrated poet, but this felt fragmented and sharply accusatory to me. It might be way too over my head.

[Jay · Rating 5 out of 5]

Take and take before the neighbors turn on their porch light.

[Carl · Rating 5 out of 5]

The turmeric sky concurred in the adagio of the afterfright, just like this!