Robert Penn Warren was an American poet, novelist, and literary critic and was one of the founders of New Criticism. He was also a charter member of the Fellowship of Southern Writers. He founded the literary journal The Southern Review with Cleanth Brooks in 1935. He received the 1947 Pulitzer Prize for the Novel for All the King's Men (1946) and the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1958 and 1979. He is the only person to have won Pulitzer Prizes for both fiction and poetry.
When my son is an old man, and I have not, For some fifty years, seen his face, and, if seeing it, Would not even be able to guess what name it wore, what Blessing should I ask for him?
That some time, in thaw-season, at dusk, standing At woodside and staring Red-westward, with the sound of moving water In his ears, he Should thus, in that future moment, bless, Forward into that future's future, An old man who, as he is mine, had once Been his small son.
For what blessing may a man hope for but An immortality in The loving vigilance of death?
This is a hard collection to read. Given the title of the collection and the history of the composition, I'm not sure if the collection was as hard for Warren to wrangle together as it is to read or if the sense of confusion is part of the artistic intent.
The question at the heart of the collection is the question of identity and the major themes of the collection are directly related to the concept of identity, e.g. time, meaning, historical context, social context, etc. If read as a long poem exploring that question, Or Else is up there with the more deliberately challenging works of modernist literature. Indeed, it seems structured to mirror the way the passage of time and life itself obscures our search for meaning, identity, and truth. For this reason, I feel Or Else is the kind of book that basically demands several readings to be fully appreciated.
If read as a proper collection of short poems, there are sections of longer poems and whole poems themselves that soar and represent the height of poetic achievement in American English--but others that are weirdly weak either in comparison to the other work in the book or just as poetic efforts in general, which makes for a collection that varies wildly in quality.
If you have a long fuse for confusion that is matched by a love for what the English language can do when given to the right writer--basically, if you're the kind of person who finds the mid-career-late work of writers like Joyce, Burroughs, and Pynchon enjoyable--I'd highly recommend the collection. Otherwise, I think I'd recommend reading a few of these in their uncollected forms and find a more traditionally coherent collection of his to read.
"I know, I know-- though tht evidence Is lost,...". P. 10
"Brook water braiding in sunlight..." p. 75
"...The body, With the towel now trailing loose from one hand, is A white stalk from which the face flowers gravely toward the high sky. This moment is non- sequential and absolute, and admits Of no definition...". P. 99