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The Math Campers: Poems
A father and husband's meditation on love, adolescence, and the mysterious mechanisms of poetic creation, from the acclaimed poet.
The poet's art is revealed in stages in this "making-of" book, where we watch as poems take shape--first as dreams or memories, then as drafts, and finally as completed works set loose on the world. In the long poem "Must We Mean What We Say," a woman reader narrates in prose the circumstances behind poems and snippets of poems she receives in letters from a stranger. Who made up whom? Chiasson, an acclaimed poetry critic, has invented a remarkable structure where reader and a poet speak to one another, across the void of silence and mystery. He is also the father of teenaged sons, and this volume continues the autobiographical arc of his prior, celebrated volumes. One long section is about the age of thirteen and the dawning of desire, while the title poem looks at the crucial age of fifteen and the existential threat of climate change and gun violence, which alters the calculus of adolescence. Though the outlook is bleak, these poems register the glories of our moment: that there are places where boys can kiss each other and not be afraid; that small communities are rousing and taking care of each other; that teenagers have mobilized for a better world. All of these works emerge from the secretive imagination of a father as he measures his own adolescence against that of his sons and explores the complex bedrock of marriage. Chiasson sees a perilous world both navigated and enriched by the passionate young and by the parents--and poets--who care for them.
The poet's art is revealed in stages in this "making-of" book, where we watch as poems take shape--first as dreams or memories, then as drafts, and finally as completed works set loose on the world. In the long poem "Must We Mean What We Say," a woman reader narrates in prose the circumstances behind poems and snippets of poems she receives in letters from a stranger. Who made up whom? Chiasson, an acclaimed poetry critic, has invented a remarkable structure where reader and a poet speak to one another, across the void of silence and mystery. He is also the father of teenaged sons, and this volume continues the autobiographical arc of his prior, celebrated volumes. One long section is about the age of thirteen and the dawning of desire, while the title poem looks at the crucial age of fifteen and the existential threat of climate change and gun violence, which alters the calculus of adolescence. Though the outlook is bleak, these poems register the glories of our moment: that there are places where boys can kiss each other and not be afraid; that small communities are rousing and taking care of each other; that teenagers have mobilized for a better world. All of these works emerge from the secretive imagination of a father as he measures his own adolescence against that of his sons and explores the complex bedrock of marriage. Chiasson sees a perilous world both navigated and enriched by the passionate young and by the parents--and poets--who care for them.
- GenresPoetry
128 pages, Hardcover
First published September 22, 2020
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
August 27, 2022
I like to feel profoundly baffled in the middle of a poem and then right on the edge of enlightenment and then to feel flashes of insight that I can’t articulate and also to feel that I wish I had to write an essay about it or teach it so that I would be forced to articulate what it’s doing to me. All of that happened repeatedly and I have no idea how he did it.
December 29, 2020
I loved this book, the bulk of which is a long poem called "Must We Mean What We Say?" consisting of a dialogue between a fictional poet and reader. Chiasson manages to collapse the distance between artist and audience by commenting on it directly, which is both a very cool trick and a deeply emotional experience.
January 10, 2024
Four stars only because so much of this book still puzzles me. I am more than content to feel as if I haven't entered a poem or a book of poetry, but I have tried for a long time with this one. It has been sitting on my desk for three years now, and I have moved in and out of it. I have had a clear glimpse of the different voices playing off each other. I understand the references, or at least the ones to contemporary poetry and the poetry world. I appreciate his dexterity of language. I get quick glimpses of the family, of the domestic drama that aborbs him. And I enjoy the effort to capture the writing of the poem itself--the poem stating then contradicting then turning back on itself. I admire Chiasson's willingness to make the big statement.
Yet despite my efforts I still feel excluded from the book. I can't bring it all together; can't make it cohere, yet I think it does cohere. Sometimes I resent that kind of exclusion, BUT NOT here. Here, I think I just haven't given close enough attention yet. I will almost certainly come back to it.
Here's an example of four lines in the middle of a long poem, set apart on their own page. They describe something which might be called an epiphany, yet they are entirely suspicious of whatever big bit of wisdom has been revealed. They have the feel and sound and rhythm of something classical, 17th century anyway. Yet they comment on themselves and use language that is as contemporary as today's Twitter message:
ten past midnight on my single day, well past
the midpoint of my life, my body was finally
what I intended it to be. Mr Chrysalis!
your formality disgusts me. Empty promises and goo
Yet despite my efforts I still feel excluded from the book. I can't bring it all together; can't make it cohere, yet I think it does cohere. Sometimes I resent that kind of exclusion, BUT NOT here. Here, I think I just haven't given close enough attention yet. I will almost certainly come back to it.
Here's an example of four lines in the middle of a long poem, set apart on their own page. They describe something which might be called an epiphany, yet they are entirely suspicious of whatever big bit of wisdom has been revealed. They have the feel and sound and rhythm of something classical, 17th century anyway. Yet they comment on themselves and use language that is as contemporary as today's Twitter message:
ten past midnight on my single day, well past
the midpoint of my life, my body was finally
what I intended it to be. Mr Chrysalis!
your formality disgusts me. Empty promises and goo
November 25, 2021
This is an incredibly innovative book of poetry. Dan Chiasson does a remarkable job giving the reader an inside glimpse of what it’s like for a poem to come in to being. He lets us, as readers, take a sneak peek of the process of a poet. I very much enjoyed the themes of adolescence and being a father of teenage sons. This is a book of poetry with which you should take your time. Be patient as you turn the pages and watch these poems take shape.
December 26, 2021
So bizarre; when I looked at the first poem I thought I'd hate it. One long and wild ride later I was in love. I'd call this an experience, though don't ask me to explain why. Done in one sitting, and I can't imagine doing it another way. Will require rereadings, I think.
June 8, 2022
I liked some lines but didn't resonate with the work as a whole. Interesting interplay between reader and poet, poet and sources of inspiration. Rating is simply a matter of personal preference, not the technical quality of the poet.
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January 25, 2021Whimsical but bleak and thought provoking
May 15, 2021
i think i’m legally obligated to give this 5 stars as dan is my major advisor, but also, i enjoyed this greatly
March 5, 2022
Whatever the fuck I’d just read is fantastic…file in the “beyond words” section.
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews