Fidelity: Poems

by Grace Paley

Just before her death in 2007 at the age of eighty-four, Grace Paley completed this wise and poignant book of poems. Full of memories of friends and family and incisive observations of life in both her beloved hometown, New York City, and rural Vermont, the poems are sober and playful, experimenting with form while remaining eminently readable. They explore the beginnings and ends of relationships, the ties that bind siblings, the workings of dreams, the surreal strangeness of the aging body―all imbued with her unique perspective and voice. Mournful and nostalgic, but also ruefully funny and full of love, Fidelity is Grace Paley's passionate and haunting elegy for the life she was leaving behind.

Genres: Poetry, Adult, Female Authors

83 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2008

About the author

Grace Paley was an American short story writer, poet, and political activist whose work won a number of awards.

Reviews

[Kathleen · Rating 4 out of 5]

This last collection of Grace Paley’s poems, written just before her death, is unsurprisingly stark. The reader walks beside her as she crosses that line we will all one day cross, makes that shift from looking forward to looking back, accepts that she can no longer run from the fact of the finality of life.

It’s a gift in that way, but a sad one.

She has a meaningful way of spacing the words in her lines and the lines on the page that I can’t replicate here, but I want to try to provide a taste with two poems I particularly liked. The first is unnamed. The second is the titular piece.

She said
every sentence is an accusation
and I thought
she speaks well
that child has always known what to say about the world
she has a beautiful face a clear head and cosmic notions
My god, I said
you’re right that’s the way it is
the world speaks to you nowadays
in accusations
it doesn’t leave you alone for a minute
it thinks everything is your fault the world is like that
No she said
I wasn’t talking about the world
I was talking about you
Yes I said that’s it that’s just what I meant

Fidelity
After supper I returned to
my reading book I had
reached page one hundred
and forty two hundred and twenty
more to go I had been thinking that
evening as we spoke
early at dinner with a couple of young
people of the dense improbable
life of that book in which I had become so comfortable
the characters were now my troubled companions
I knew them understood I could
reenter these lives without loss
so firm my habitation I scanned the shelves
some books so dear to me I had missed them
leaned forward to take the work into
my hands I took a couple of deep breaths
thought about the acceleration of days
yes I could reenter them but …
No how could I desert that other whole life
those others in their city basements
Abandonment How could I have allowed myself
even thought of half hour’s distraction
when life had pages or decades to go
so much was about to happen to people
I already know and dearly loved

[Lori · Rating 3 out of 5]

Published when the author was eighty-four, this collection reflects, in part, the author's reflections on that period in her life. The author's style involves all lower case with the exception of the word "I." Spaces, rather than punctuation, mark pauses. The author's style does not resonate well with me, although I appreciated some of the poems. The author's atheism manifested itself in one poem in the collection. I prefer Mary Oliver's poetry.

[Liz Mc2]

I discovered Grace Paley’s stories in college thanks to a film class where we watched Enormous Changes at the Last Minute. I was lucky enough to hear her read, too. I never realized she wrote poetry too. This late-in-life collection is not great poetry but I did enjoy the reflections on aging, loss, memory, what matters in life when you are looking back from the end. Mostly it made me want to read her stories again.

[Adrianne Mathiowetz · Rating 4 out of 5]

Often deceptively conversational -- simple, meditative and yet full of feeling -- Grace Paley's poetry makes you slow down for a few breaths. Reading this book felt like going to Vermont.

I'd actually rate this somewhere between 3.5 and 4 stars -- I loved the poems at the beginning, but toward the end they start complaining about writing poetry, a personal pet peeve. Gal darn these old poets.


My Sister And My Grandson

I have been talking to my sister she
may not know she's been dust and ashes
for the last two years I talk to her
nearly every day

I've been telling her about our new baby
who is serious comical busy dark my
sister out of all the rubble and grit
that is now her my sister mutters what
about our old baby he was smart loving
so beautiful

yes yes I said listen just last week
he stopped at my hallway door he saw
your small Turkish rug he stared at it
he fell to his knees his arms wide crying
Jeannie oh my own auntie Jeannie

remembered ah her hard whisper came to me
thank you Grace now speak to him tell him
he's still my deepest love

[Dave Schaafsma · Rating 2 out of 5]

I love Grace Paley's stories and poetry and she is to me an icon of American literature. I once sat at her knee as she read at Bennington (Vermont). It was the summer of 1979, and I was there for a writer's retreat for a month, listening on a regular basis to writers reading their work, talking with us about writing, and all of us sat cross-legged, spread around her on the floor like birds awaiting crumbs of warmth and insight and love and sharp, unpretentious observation. This, her last book, is far from the quality I became accustomed to from her, I say sadly, but it does help me recall her voice and spirit.

To the end, she graciously and bravely faces her last days, and the last poems of the book are really the best, and worth reading, if one is curious about how one, in one's eighties, faces the day and the darkness. These poems are not among her best work as a poet or writer, but her voice in these poems seems consistent with the voice of Grace Paley that I knew and loved more than thirty years ago.

[Lisa · Rating 1 out of 5]

I'm always a little wary when a book cover announces that these poems were completed "just before" someone's death. The wariness was warranted here--a few poems offer touching insight into old age, including lost friends, lost faculties, and lost possibilities, as in "On Occasion," which begins, "I forget the names of my friends / and the names of the flowers in my garden" and ends in a beautiful memory of her mother and being told as a child about a flower name: "suddenly before thought I / called out ZINNIA zinnia/ zinnia along came a sunny/ summer breeze they swayed/ lightly bowed I said Mother."

For the most part, though, these poems seem lineated prose, half-formed musings, etc. The form seems somewhat arbitrary, the use of extra space instead of punctuation not effective.

[Kathy McC · Rating 2 out of 5]

I had read several reviews of this poet who died last year. I was not overwhelmed by the poetry, but the topics were interesting to me. There were some lines that made me pause such as, "Don't take me out of the telephone book of your heart."


All the old women came out into the sun and I was one
All the old gentlemen came out too and I saw you
What a relief I said to my friend there is no end
That's true for some but don't be so vain
He may not be the same
Perhaps he's only quite shy
One of us may die
Without saying goodbye
My friend said face it that's how it goes one by one
Till there's no one left on this bench in the sun

(Paley uses no punctuation)

[E.J. Cullen · Rating 4 out of 5]

The last work from the recently deceased octogerarian. A small book of poems. Smart, muscular musings on long- life, love, family. Grace, a tiny fireball of robust gentleness and electric pacifism was, in her poetry and fiction, a modern, more urban Emily Dickinson in in that she is direct, no-nonsense and all tough NY., but she lived in NYC and Vermont, which might give you a hint of her range and sensibilities.

[Andrea · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is Grace Paley's last collection of poems, and actually was published posthumously. I haven't read much of her other poetry, although I know some of her prose, but I really like this collection as a whole, and its exquisite attention to the terrible nature of dying, losing friends and family members and yourself. Most importantly, yourself. Lovely work.

[Elizabeth · Rating 3 out of 5]

There were....seven lines in this collection that I loved and want to play with. You'd think that would garner a no-star rating, but that is a pretty damn good signal-to-noise ratio, and the good lines are *really* good. So: three stars, I'm keeping my copy, and planning to dig a Paley paperback out of storage the next time I get a chance.

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

Finding this posthumously published work by Grace Paley was a happy surprise for me. Her poems seem like a settling of accounts. She writes from an absolutely familiar place, yet maintains a peculiar distance from there as well.

[Leah · Rating 1 out of 5]

This is the sort of poetry that makes me scratch my head in wonder. Am I not smart enough to understand this poet? Why are there spaces in the middle of the line? How am I supposed to read this? I didn't find the subject matter transcendent, or the turns of phrase memorable.

#Bookbingonw - poetry

[Susan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great insight into aging.

[Christopher McCaffery · Rating 4 out of 5]

Poems about being old that are very good.

[Patti · Rating 5 out of 5]

This wonderful book of poems was published by Grace Paley's estate. She had things to share with us until the end. She wasn't done yet.

This book is small but oh so powerful and seems in keeping with the shrinking that happens with age, but the spirit stays strong. She faces aging, her illness, her approaching death and its effect on those who love her. She has the wisdom to rejoice that her children's children will help them through these hard times.

".....luckily their
children have imperiously
called offering their lives a
detour thank god they've all
gotten away"

Grace speaks of her sister, who had died two years ago, in several poems. She shares how she copes with her grief.

"I needed to talk to my sister
talk to her on the telephone I mean
just as I Used to every morning
in the evening too whenever the
grandchildren said a sentence that
clasped both our hearts

I called her phone rang four times
you can imagine my breath stopped then
there was a terrible telephonic noise
a voice said this number is no
longer in use how wonderful I
thought I can
call again they have not yet assigned
her number to another person despite
two years of absence due to death"

[Sherard H · Rating 4 out of 5]

Grace Paley's life and politics shine through with clarity in this posthumous collection of her work. She writes of her life in New York, and of her life in Vermont; of friends, and of lovers. Most notably, she writes of what it's like to grow older, and to watch one's friends disappear one by one. "The word dead is correct / but inappropriate," she offers.

Her most poignant poem for me--an untitled piece--addresses a moment in which she craved to call her sister on the phone immediately, and after she called and the automatic telephonic voice informed her that the number had been disconnected, Paley felt relief; she was happy only to discover that even two years after her sister's death, they still hadn't assigned her sister's number to someone new.

It may be difficult for a younger audience to grasp some of Paley's themes and concepts in Fidelity, but I believe it speaks well enough to still be considered despite the potentially large age gap between Paley and her reader in this piece. As a writer, I really hope to thoughtfully consider and play around with Paley's poetic form; her playfulness with word spacing has allowed her to create an entire collection without a single punctuation mark.

[Linda · Rating 5 out of 5]

What delight to read poems written by Grace Paley in her last years! She writes of love and death and doesn't stop talking to her sister or her friends just because they are dead. This book is worth owning just to have her poem called "One Day," a kind of tribute to a long marriage that begins: "one day/ one of us/ will be lost/ to the other". The ending of the poem "On Occasion" echoed one of my favorite poems by ee cummings. A surprise to me. "suddenly before thought I/ called out ZINNIA zinnia/ zinnia along came a sunny/ summer breeze they swayed/ lightly bowed I said Mother" and here is ee cummings poem to his Mother: "if there are any heavens my mother will(all by herself)have/ one. It will not be a pansy heaven nor/ a fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley but/ it will be a heaven of blackbed roses"........(here I skip to the end of the poem....."This is my beloved my/ (suddenly in sunlight)/ he will bow,/ & the whole garden will bow). I read that Cummings poem when I was kid, and marked it in a book I bought in 1978. And reading Grace Paley tonight brought it back to me, two such different voices.

[Alexandra Wall · Rating 3 out of 5]

Simple language and almost no punctuation allow Paley's inner voice to take the reins. The written style is simple, but is able to challenge the reader to identify where complete thoughts begin or end, and also recognize how they can connect together. Her use of enjambments create a sense of greater length and fluidity for the short, somewhat fragmented sections of narrative-driven poetic prose. Lines share their space with one another, carrying the thoughts along in an inner monologue, and single words or brief phrases are often given white space for emphasis or pause, a moment of contemplation.

The style lends itself to the topics, as the poems explore the challenges that come with family life and aging, sickness and death, mixed in among pieces that celebrate pastoral wonder. A solitary voice is present as it shares with the reader in remembering friends and loved ones, or the beauty of flowers after a rainstorm, or other moments in the life of the author. The tone is a little sardonic, a little nostalgic, and a little lonely, but appreciative for the experiences that are being shared. The collection builds the perspective that life is what it is, so enjoy it.

[Hannah · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a beautiful and often sad (but also funny!) collection of poems, dealing mainly with old age. Paley has a really lovely, simple, contemplative quality about her on her best poems. I liked the sparseness of the language; she uses her words sparingly and to good effect. I also loved her spacing and enjambment. As great as the great poems were, though, there were more than a few that left me kind of unmoved, waiting for that glorious shivery moment that happens at the end of a good poem that never came.

[Artus · Rating 4 out of 5]

Magnifiche poesie-racconto

Le mie poesie erano diventate così tetre
sono uscita per camminare
nei boschi di primavera e ho
portato con me una sacca una graziosa borsa
a rete blu con una penna infilata
tra le maglie anche questo
piccolo taccuino e uno più largo
per le poesie a verso lungo i miei
occhiali un pettinino ho pensato
nel caso che il vento di fine marzo
attacchi i miei grigi capelli arruffati
proprio allora un altro poeta
ha incrociato i miei passi con lo zaino
già gonfio di poesie e
una penna tra i denti

[Kelly · Rating 3 out of 5]

Sometimes now when I sleep alone
I get a whiff of myself
and wonder all these years is this
the odor familiar to you
if so did you really like it doesn't
seem so nice you/re unusually non-
sweaty for such an active man but slightly
sweet when I hug you nowadays
(or you me) or put my head on your
pillow in our bed I know it's you
a delicate odor of woodsmoke and I breathe
you in a little not surprised
I remember you were always delicious

[Mary · Rating 5 out of 5]

She never chooses tired words like "uplifting" or
"down to earth" but manages to be both, all the
time, to the last syllable of her recorded time,
which ended last August. With lines like these:
"...why are you so up, I mean reality is a terrible
down, look at the facts...they blame it on that
tree, that apple of all knowing. I would eat it
again."

[Katarzyna Bartoszynska · Rating 4 out of 5]

They might not all be fantastic poems, but throughout, you have the sense that they were all written by a fantastic person. A conversational, intimate book that records the thoughts of a woman who knows she is nearing the end of her life, and muses on all kinds of things, both big and small. I enjoyed it thoroughly.

[Clifford · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you like Paley's work, you'll love this collection of new poetry finished shortly before her death last August. See more of my comments at Perpetual Folly.

[j_ay · Rating 3 out of 5]

I never feel I can give an informed opinion about poetry; it either works for me (extremely rare) or it doesn’t. Paley is a fantastic short story writer, and there are some nice ideas in these poems, but overall it doesn’t hit me.

[Kristin · Rating 2 out of 5]

Most of these poems fell flat for me. Although there were a few that I liked (e.g. "Proverbs," "Anti-love Poem" and "Suddenly There's Poughkeepsie"), the majority lacked the necessary dose of life and grittiness that I tend to prefer in any poetry that I read.

[Mike Alcock · Rating 5 out of 5]

This was featured on a "Poetry" cart at my local, municipal library (sorry CML). I could've easily knocked it out in an afternoon, but the poems, while generally short, were remarkably stout - heady, even - and so this kind of became my glass-of-red-wine-before-bed book. Highly recommended!

[Ami · Rating 5 out of 5]

http://www.fsgpoetry.com/fsg/2008/04/...

[Teresa · Rating 4 out of 5]

She is the amazing Grace Paley and I wish she could of lived another 80 years to write.

[Mary Louise]

So glad I went to see Grace read a few years ago.