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A Poetry Handbook
"(...) A Poetry Handbook was written with writers of poetry most vividly in my mind; their needs and problems and increase have most directly been my concerns. But I am hopeful that readers of poetry will feel welcome here, too, and will gain from these chapters an insight into the thoughtful machinery of the poem, as well as some possibly useful ideas about its history, and, if you please, some ideas also of the long work and intense effort that goes into the making of a poem. The final three chapters are especially directed towards issues important to the writer of poems, but here too the reader of poems is heartily welcome. (...)"
[Text taken from the final part of the Introduction written by Mary Oliver]
[Text taken from the final part of the Introduction written by Mary Oliver]
130 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1994
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About the author
Mary Oliver
104 books8,776 followersMary Jane Oliver was an American poet who won the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize. Her work is inspired by nature, rather than the human world, stemming from her lifelong passion for solitary walks in the wild.
Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name. See this thread for more information.
Librarian Note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name. See this thread for more information.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,051 reviews
February 18, 2013
A Poetry Handbook is something I wish I had read a lot earlier in my career as a student of literature, to say nothing of the tentative ventures I’ve made into writing poetry since I was young. A lot of people say this book is a good reiteration of things they learned in their college classes, but I sincerely think it’s an introduction we all need. I never learned about vowel and consonant sounds in my poetry seminars. Maybe somewhere down the line a professor glossed over the principles of scansion as though we already knew them (most of us don’t). So quite frankly, given that the basic formal elements of poetry discussed in this book are vital and that Mary Oliver treats them in a way that is simple, honest, and shimmers like poetry itself, there is absolutely no reason for any reader or writer of poetry to ignore this little handbook. “It is written to empower the beginning writer who stands between two marvelous and complex things—an experience (or an idea or a feeling), and the urge to tell about it in the best possible conjunction of words.”
And empower she does. One thing I like in particular about this book is Oliver’s emphasis on form. I’ve only taken one creative workshop in my time as a university student so perhaps this assessment of fellow contemporary writers is premature, but I was appalled at how the professor (whom I do admire greatly) and the other students seemed altogether uninterested in developing an awareness of historical form. I understand that it is outdated and impractical to earnestly write something in metrical verse these days, but why not do it as an exercise? Why not learn how those rhythms work so that writers of free verse can be more deliberate in their poetic choices? That is precisely what Mary Oliver calls for. To be honest, I still wasn’t particularly thrilled at the prospect of reading the chapters on metrical lines and forms. Many in English departments who care about scansion seem to do so for its own stilted and limiting purpose: to say “This is iambic pentameter! I identified that! Someone give me a cookie!” Okay, but what does that mean? How does it help us analyze the poem? Oliver gives great insights into how form shapes pacing, tempo, stress, perhaps by extension mood and tone, style, etc. and works to contribute to a poem’s overall impact and meaning. Thank you! I will give her a cookie.
I loved her discussion on how free verse came to be the standard poetic form of the twentieth century and into the present day. In the past, I have heard this shift to free verse characterized as a “break from the past” (kind of like a rejection of the canon), a way of making poetry more democratic, or even as carelessness. While some of those may be true (barring the last option, which I don’t agree with), Mary Oliver points out several other compelling reasons for the advent and growing popularity of free verse: first of all, a growing print culture. “Free verse came into fashion just as the availability of books was becoming widespread, and the practice of reading poems with one’s eyes, and listening to them silently, was taking precedence over the oral tradition” (56). She goes on to describe the importance of the free verse poet’s attention to line breaks and visual presentation: “The pattern on the page, then, became the indicator of pace, and the balance and poise of the poem was inseparable from the way the line breaks kept or failed a necessary feeling of integrity, a holding together of the poem from beginning to end. The regular, metrical line gave assistance to a listener who sought to remember the poem; the more various line breaks of the ‘visual’ poem gave assistance to the mind seeking to ‘hear’ the poem” (56).
I love how she talks about how any poem—including, or even especially, those written in free verse—has to be balanced and measured. “Every poem has as basic measure, and a continual counterpoint of differences playing against that measure. Poems that do not offer such variations quickly become boring” (56). However, as she emphasizes time and time again, “the poem needs to be reliable” (56; I guess that page is jam-packed with quotables). “A poem requires a design—a sense of orderliness. Part of our pleasure in the poem is that it is a well-made thing—it gives pleasure through the authority and sweetness of the language used in the way that it is used” (58, her italics). How we say is just as important, if not more, than what we say. In other words, the poet needs to be purposeful. And how is that possible without some knowledge of the poetic devices at your disposal and their effect?
Given all of that, it is very helpful that she sets up a few ordering principles for free verse poems, which are “by no means exempted from the necessity of having a design, though one must go about it in rather different ways” (66). She then talks about line, syntax, repetition, stress, enjambment, diction, and perhaps the most important for any poet, “setting up a felt pattern of expectation and meeting that expectation” (66). As my workshop instructor told me, a poem doesn’t have to do everything; it just has to say one thing and say it well. Creating that expectation at the beginning and fulfilling it by the end is the excitement of our call to write, I think. We want to express something we’ve felt or experienced and do it justice; Mary Oliver is master at that. We would all do well to listen to what she has to say.
I was also taken with her discussion of the intimacy of the free-verse form: “Now a line was needed that would sound and feel not like formal speech but like conversation. What was needed was a line which, when read, would feel as spontaneous, as true to the moment, as talk in the street, or talk between friends in one’s own house... That, I think, is the long and short of it. Speech entered the poem. The poem was no longer a lecture, it was time spent with a friend. Its music was the music of conversation” (69-70). And what sweet music. In that same section, just pages later, she gives the most compelling analysis for the significance of William Carlos Williams’s “The Red Wheelbarrow” I’ve ever heard.
I was a little confused by her distaste for what she calls “poetic diction” (87-88), by which I think she actually means excessively lofty, worn-out language from poets in days gone by: emerald carpets, birds in a choir, et al. I’m not sure I totally agree with her on this. Her example of trees as Druids actually sounds quite lovely to me, and in her hands I think it would be a rather nice image. But I do like that she calls for us to be more thoughtful and candid with our diction and imagery rather than borrowing from old cliches. Speaking of cliches, she hates those too (88), and I laughed out loud at her declaration on the following page that “Proper syntax never hurt anyone.” She is playful throughout the text, and I was happy for that.
If nothing else, go read her section on revision and the Conclusion. Beautiful stuff. I admire the balance she creates throughout the entire text between developing or honing formal skills and “that wild, silky part of ourselves without which no poem can live” (8). She insists on truly living, walking among green things, and noticing as being the key characteristics of a poet, but she also argues for the necessity of hard work, which is something I needed to hear.
I read this cover-to-cover in a short period of time and I already want to read it again. It’s that good. It’s that sweet and necessary. Do yourself a favor and enter the dazzling world of poetry in the able hands of Mary Oliver. You will not regret it.
And empower she does. One thing I like in particular about this book is Oliver’s emphasis on form. I’ve only taken one creative workshop in my time as a university student so perhaps this assessment of fellow contemporary writers is premature, but I was appalled at how the professor (whom I do admire greatly) and the other students seemed altogether uninterested in developing an awareness of historical form. I understand that it is outdated and impractical to earnestly write something in metrical verse these days, but why not do it as an exercise? Why not learn how those rhythms work so that writers of free verse can be more deliberate in their poetic choices? That is precisely what Mary Oliver calls for. To be honest, I still wasn’t particularly thrilled at the prospect of reading the chapters on metrical lines and forms. Many in English departments who care about scansion seem to do so for its own stilted and limiting purpose: to say “This is iambic pentameter! I identified that! Someone give me a cookie!” Okay, but what does that mean? How does it help us analyze the poem? Oliver gives great insights into how form shapes pacing, tempo, stress, perhaps by extension mood and tone, style, etc. and works to contribute to a poem’s overall impact and meaning. Thank you! I will give her a cookie.
I loved her discussion on how free verse came to be the standard poetic form of the twentieth century and into the present day. In the past, I have heard this shift to free verse characterized as a “break from the past” (kind of like a rejection of the canon), a way of making poetry more democratic, or even as carelessness. While some of those may be true (barring the last option, which I don’t agree with), Mary Oliver points out several other compelling reasons for the advent and growing popularity of free verse: first of all, a growing print culture. “Free verse came into fashion just as the availability of books was becoming widespread, and the practice of reading poems with one’s eyes, and listening to them silently, was taking precedence over the oral tradition” (56). She goes on to describe the importance of the free verse poet’s attention to line breaks and visual presentation: “The pattern on the page, then, became the indicator of pace, and the balance and poise of the poem was inseparable from the way the line breaks kept or failed a necessary feeling of integrity, a holding together of the poem from beginning to end. The regular, metrical line gave assistance to a listener who sought to remember the poem; the more various line breaks of the ‘visual’ poem gave assistance to the mind seeking to ‘hear’ the poem” (56).
I love how she talks about how any poem—including, or even especially, those written in free verse—has to be balanced and measured. “Every poem has as basic measure, and a continual counterpoint of differences playing against that measure. Poems that do not offer such variations quickly become boring” (56). However, as she emphasizes time and time again, “the poem needs to be reliable” (56; I guess that page is jam-packed with quotables). “A poem requires a design—a sense of orderliness. Part of our pleasure in the poem is that it is a well-made thing—it gives pleasure through the authority and sweetness of the language used in the way that it is used” (58, her italics). How we say is just as important, if not more, than what we say. In other words, the poet needs to be purposeful. And how is that possible without some knowledge of the poetic devices at your disposal and their effect?
Given all of that, it is very helpful that she sets up a few ordering principles for free verse poems, which are “by no means exempted from the necessity of having a design, though one must go about it in rather different ways” (66). She then talks about line, syntax, repetition, stress, enjambment, diction, and perhaps the most important for any poet, “setting up a felt pattern of expectation and meeting that expectation” (66). As my workshop instructor told me, a poem doesn’t have to do everything; it just has to say one thing and say it well. Creating that expectation at the beginning and fulfilling it by the end is the excitement of our call to write, I think. We want to express something we’ve felt or experienced and do it justice; Mary Oliver is master at that. We would all do well to listen to what she has to say.
I was also taken with her discussion of the intimacy of the free-verse form: “Now a line was needed that would sound and feel not like formal speech but like conversation. What was needed was a line which, when read, would feel as spontaneous, as true to the moment, as talk in the street, or talk between friends in one’s own house... That, I think, is the long and short of it. Speech entered the poem. The poem was no longer a lecture, it was time spent with a friend. Its music was the music of conversation” (69-70). And what sweet music. In that same section, just pages later, she gives the most compelling analysis for the significance of William Carlos Williams’s “The Red Wheelbarrow” I’ve ever heard.
I was a little confused by her distaste for what she calls “poetic diction” (87-88), by which I think she actually means excessively lofty, worn-out language from poets in days gone by: emerald carpets, birds in a choir, et al. I’m not sure I totally agree with her on this. Her example of trees as Druids actually sounds quite lovely to me, and in her hands I think it would be a rather nice image. But I do like that she calls for us to be more thoughtful and candid with our diction and imagery rather than borrowing from old cliches. Speaking of cliches, she hates those too (88), and I laughed out loud at her declaration on the following page that “Proper syntax never hurt anyone.” She is playful throughout the text, and I was happy for that.
If nothing else, go read her section on revision and the Conclusion. Beautiful stuff. I admire the balance she creates throughout the entire text between developing or honing formal skills and “that wild, silky part of ourselves without which no poem can live” (8). She insists on truly living, walking among green things, and noticing as being the key characteristics of a poet, but she also argues for the necessity of hard work, which is something I needed to hear.
I read this cover-to-cover in a short period of time and I already want to read it again. It’s that good. It’s that sweet and necessary. Do yourself a favor and enter the dazzling world of poetry in the able hands of Mary Oliver. You will not regret it.
November 6, 2019
Poet Mary Oliver tells about the craft of poetry in a basic book that would be helpful to both readers and writers of poetry. She writes about the various ingredients that go into a poem--meter, rhyme, sound, imagery, form, and more. Well-written, famous poems are used to illustrate the points she is making. Unfortunately, she does not use any of her own delightful poems as examples. Even newcomers to poetry will find this book very accessible.
I do not write poetry, but I enjoyed her advice to beginner poets. They should immerse themselves in books, the arts, nature, history, and other areas of interest. "Writers must . . . take care of the sensibility that houses the possibility of poems. . . . A mind that is lively and inquiring, compassionate, curious, angry, full of music, full of feeling, is a mind full of possible poetry."
I do not write poetry, but I enjoyed her advice to beginner poets. They should immerse themselves in books, the arts, nature, history, and other areas of interest. "Writers must . . . take care of the sensibility that houses the possibility of poems. . . . A mind that is lively and inquiring, compassionate, curious, angry, full of music, full of feeling, is a mind full of possible poetry."
May 16, 2011
Mary Oliver is known for her blend of mysticism with Whitman's pastoral fixation. In that vein, this book on the craft of poetry does not disappoint. While other craft books may be more practical (such as the ever-popular The Poet's Companion), A Poetry Handbook probes deeper into the indefinable aspects of verse.
Some will tire of this quickly. Why write a book about the unnameable aspects of the art? Oliver's handbook is necessary because while skilled poets may see the strings of talent, beauty, sound, and art working behind a normal poem, most poets just starting out do not. Oliver's text is meant to sharpen the poetic senses, not through rigorous practical exercises, but by discussing how poetry does what it does, how it grabs and doesn't let go. For that, Oliver should be commended.
Some will tire of this quickly. Why write a book about the unnameable aspects of the art? Oliver's handbook is necessary because while skilled poets may see the strings of talent, beauty, sound, and art working behind a normal poem, most poets just starting out do not. Oliver's text is meant to sharpen the poetic senses, not through rigorous practical exercises, but by discussing how poetry does what it does, how it grabs and doesn't let go. For that, Oliver should be commended.
April 26, 2022
At 122 pp., this is one of the more succinct "how-to's" (for wannabe-poets) slash "how-it's-done's" (for wanna-understand-poets) out there.
This means the 5-star people will praise it for doing what good poetry should do -- delivering in an economy of words, while the 3-star people will hedge a bit and wish it went more in depth via more elaboration and a few more example poems.
Me, I can hear both sides, so I'll make like the Buddha and walk the middle way. Four stars it is!
This means the 5-star people will praise it for doing what good poetry should do -- delivering in an economy of words, while the 3-star people will hedge a bit and wish it went more in depth via more elaboration and a few more example poems.
Me, I can hear both sides, so I'll make like the Buddha and walk the middle way. Four stars it is!
July 22, 2022
"For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry."
February 17, 2008
While Oliver knows her stuff and is respected, I don't find passion in this slim handbook as I do in other books in the genre such as Ted Kooser's Poetry Home Repair Manual or Edward Hirsch's How to Read a Poem. The sample poems she includes are not fully explored or mined as I would have hoped.
April 12, 2012
For the Lit. MFA, Mary Oliver's compact handbook may not offer an avalanche of commendable qualities. But for those of us without the luxury of formal training or professional mentoring, those who endeavor to become better readers of poetry as well as novices in the craft, A Poetry Handbook should fit in a welcome spot on our shelves and furnish our minds with a quarry of solid principles, foundation stones to build on.
I read the less-than-150-page text over a weekend. I have the feeling that I will go back again and again to mine it's riches. Oliver has that rare quality of giving plainspoken advice to beginners--encouraging mediocre poets to work hard to be better--while providing polished gems of wisdom for more accomplished pens. For example, her chapter on imagery is woefully brief and barely introductory of such seminal devices as metaphor and personification, yet she manages to say everything she wants in a line comparing figurative language to the pimeval forest floor, "the very mud and leaves of the world. Without this mud and leaves--and fish and rises and honeybees-- the poem would be as dull as a mumble."
In sum, A Poetry Handbook reads like a master class for bright, engaged undergraduates. I recommend it for intro teachers, students, general readers and poets, especially if you are self-taught.
I picked up the other Oliver handbook, Rules of the Dance, as a companion, and am reading it more slowly.
I read the less-than-150-page text over a weekend. I have the feeling that I will go back again and again to mine it's riches. Oliver has that rare quality of giving plainspoken advice to beginners--encouraging mediocre poets to work hard to be better--while providing polished gems of wisdom for more accomplished pens. For example, her chapter on imagery is woefully brief and barely introductory of such seminal devices as metaphor and personification, yet she manages to say everything she wants in a line comparing figurative language to the pimeval forest floor, "the very mud and leaves of the world. Without this mud and leaves--and fish and rises and honeybees-- the poem would be as dull as a mumble."
In sum, A Poetry Handbook reads like a master class for bright, engaged undergraduates. I recommend it for intro teachers, students, general readers and poets, especially if you are self-taught.
I picked up the other Oliver handbook, Rules of the Dance, as a companion, and am reading it more slowly.
January 18, 2019
Completely by chance, last week (thanks to a job wherein I’m typesetting a book of poetry), I checked out a stack of poetry books from the library, among them Mary Oliver’s.
I spent last night and tonight steeped in her words. I stayed awake reading. I had no idea, not until a few moments ago. It feels spooky, in a way. Not in a bad way. But in a way that feels hard to deny, the way when life brushes against you and whispers, listen.
I went back just now and re-read “The Loon” — Not quite 4 a.m., when the rapture of being alive / strikes me from sleep, and I rise / from the comfortable bed and I go / to another room — then found the passage in this handbook that I had marked down last night:
“For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in hot pockets of the hungry. Yes, indeed.”
Yes, indeed.
May 11, 2025
Beknopt, maar to-the-point handboekje, zowel voor wie poëzie wil schrijven als voor wie graag poëzie leest of wil gaan lezen. Mary Oliver, wiens werk ik pas vorig jaar leerde kennen met de bloemlezing Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver en waar ik meteen weg van was, besteedt terecht de nodige aandacht aan de technische kanten van het dichterschap. Je weet wel: de klassieke terminologie van sonnetten, kwatrijnen, het vrije vers, de jamben, trocheeën en alexandrijnen, de vergelijkingen en de metaforen enz ... wat ik altijd weer een fijne opfrissing vind.
Toch klinkt haar eigen stem er vaak in door, vooral daar waar ze klemtonen legt en er een selectie van voorbeeldgedichten en -citaten naast legt, nooit van zichzelf, maar van haar eigen poëzie-voorbeelden. Zo ontdekte ik o.a. de prachtige gedichten 'Workday' van Linda Hogan en 'The Fish' van Elizabeth Bishop. Ambachtelijkheid, dagelijkse discipline, geduld en een geoefend observatievermogen zijn voor Mary Oliver de basisingrediënten om als dichter aan de slag te gaan.
Verder waarschuwt ze voor veelvoorkomende valkuilen bij het gebruik van vormelementen, geeft ze voor- en nadelen bij het volgen van poëzie-workshops en pleit ze voor regelmatige, afgebakende alleen-schrijftijd. Kortom: een rijke en inspirerende gids van een gedreven dichter.
Toch klinkt haar eigen stem er vaak in door, vooral daar waar ze klemtonen legt en er een selectie van voorbeeldgedichten en -citaten naast legt, nooit van zichzelf, maar van haar eigen poëzie-voorbeelden. Zo ontdekte ik o.a. de prachtige gedichten 'Workday' van Linda Hogan en 'The Fish' van Elizabeth Bishop. Ambachtelijkheid, dagelijkse discipline, geduld en een geoefend observatievermogen zijn voor Mary Oliver de basisingrediënten om als dichter aan de slag te gaan.
Verder waarschuwt ze voor veelvoorkomende valkuilen bij het gebruik van vormelementen, geeft ze voor- en nadelen bij het volgen van poëzie-workshops en pleit ze voor regelmatige, afgebakende alleen-schrijftijd. Kortom: een rijke en inspirerende gids van een gedreven dichter.
October 28, 2016
I liked this, I did.
I'm spoiled by John Ciardi's How Does a Poem Mean? Nevertheless, this was a helpful overview of essential elements to good poetry. Perhaps because nothing seemed new, it didn't strike me as a "must read."
Oliver articulates what I've always believed:
To write well it is necessary to read widely and deeply.
When she talks about revision, she admits that her poems have roughly 40-50 drafts. Well, now.
The crowning jewel of a quote came at the end. These are her closing words. I've made some line breaks for easier reading.
There is nourishment in books, other art, history, philophies—in holiness and mirth. It is in honest hands-on labor also; I don't mean to indicate a preference for the scholarly life. And it is in the green world—among people, and animals, and trees for that matter, if one genuinely cares about trees.
A mind that is lively and inquiring, compassionate, curious, angry, full of music, full of feeling, is a mind full of possible poetry. Poetry is a life-cherishing force. And it requires a vision—a faith, to use an old-fashioned term. Yes, indeed.
For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry. Yes, indeed.
I'm spoiled by John Ciardi's How Does a Poem Mean? Nevertheless, this was a helpful overview of essential elements to good poetry. Perhaps because nothing seemed new, it didn't strike me as a "must read."
Oliver articulates what I've always believed:
To write well it is necessary to read widely and deeply.
When she talks about revision, she admits that her poems have roughly 40-50 drafts. Well, now.
The crowning jewel of a quote came at the end. These are her closing words. I've made some line breaks for easier reading.
There is nourishment in books, other art, history, philophies—in holiness and mirth. It is in honest hands-on labor also; I don't mean to indicate a preference for the scholarly life. And it is in the green world—among people, and animals, and trees for that matter, if one genuinely cares about trees.
A mind that is lively and inquiring, compassionate, curious, angry, full of music, full of feeling, is a mind full of possible poetry. Poetry is a life-cherishing force. And it requires a vision—a faith, to use an old-fashioned term. Yes, indeed.
For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry. Yes, indeed.
August 28, 2009
The best little book on poetry I've come across. Oliver is a master of beautiful, unshowy simplicity. This book covers the basics of poetry, including sound, diction, tone, meter, rhyme, and imagery, and it explains in clear terms why each component is important, and says at least a thing or two about how to do it "right" (well?) and "wrong" (poorly?). Oliver incorporates good examples and useful quotations. The book is true pleasure: wise, measured, clear.
January 26, 2015
Perhaps my expectations were too high, since I admire Mary Oliver’s poetry so much. It was probably naïve to think she could pass along some of her genius to others in a handbook. However, the book could at least have had more depth, more exercises, and been more entertaining. This is a book for a novice and much too basic for me (yes, I know novices need a book that doesn’t overwhelm them). I was also recently spoiled by Stephen Fry’s thorough, sometimes too thorough, handbook, The Ode Less Travelled. He made me laugh out loud. Oliver mostly bored me. However, just when I thought she had wasted my time, she ended with a bang. I loved her philosophies of writing on pages 107-118 as she talks about imagery, literature, revision, and solitude. She believes writing workshops are a good idea, particularly for a beginning writer, but cautions that “the poem requires of the writer not society or instruction, but profound and unbroken solitude.”
December 6, 2024
My second ever audiobook ! Mary Oliver's mind is a garden flourishing with abundance & this was so instructive and accessible. She passionately identifies writing as honest, hands-on labor...a practice of faith, a test of patience and observation, and an act of self-communing. This made me feel a tenderness for poetry as a "life-cherishing force..."
And, cue, the mary oliver effect: "Poems are fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry. Yes, indeed"
Aaahhhhh
And, cue, the mary oliver effect: "Poems are fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry. Yes, indeed"
Aaahhhhh
July 7, 2017
I want to take a long walk through a misty forest discussing writing with Mary.
May 4, 2025
"It waits, it watches. If you are reliably there, it begins to show itself — soon it begins to arrive when you do."
January 12, 2023
I didn’t expect this to be such a forced march, but hooo boy, it was. I’m someone who already enjoys and writes poetry, so I can’t imagine how dull this would be for someone who wasn’t predisposed to care. It offers a solid outline of the basic components of a poem, but it is not exciting. I’m a little surprised since Mary Oliver is an accomplished poet, but I suppose doing a thing and successfully engaging with other people about that thing are different skills.
I also don’t find some sections of this book terribly useful. Consider this description of a narrative poem:
“The narrative poem is generally longer than the lyric poem, and its tone is without such a tightly coiled force. It is discursive, it pauses for moments of humor and slowly unfolding description. [...] At times, in the lyric poem, we feel we are in a vortex; when we listen to the narrative poem, we are comfortable.”
Uh…okay. Cool. Whatever that means. Why would you not start by saying that a narrative poem tells a story? Are we assuming that’s obvious? I could agree, but then why do we get specific definitions for things like imagery and personification that are just as easily guessed at? Then she lists examples of narrative poems, but doesn’t print any excerpts in the text. If I didn't already have an idea of what a narrative poem might look like, this book would not illuminate it for me. I'd leave with only the vague sense that it's "comfortable", or that it's long. Or...longer than a lyric poem, which is also poorly defined, but shorter than a "longer poem". ???
There’s good information here, but it’s hardly new territory. I was hoping for something that got more to the heart of poetry and why we read/write/enjoy it, rather than retreading high school English class. I like that example poems (or excerpts of poems) are included, but they're often boring choices, and the distribution is wildly uneven. Some concepts get zero. Some get five or six.
It took me ages to finish this book, and it is only 118 pages long. The reason is that I was bored out of my mind—but for unknown reasons, I trudged on.
I propose instead The Poet’s Companion by Kim Adonnizio and Dorianne Laux for its approachable foray into the foundations of poetry with more integrated (and better) examples than A Poetry Handbook, plus suggested prompts/exercises at the end of each chapter; or The Poetry Home Repair Manual by Ted Kooser, which has an inviting, conversational tone while still offering simple, sound advice.
I also don’t find some sections of this book terribly useful. Consider this description of a narrative poem:
“The narrative poem is generally longer than the lyric poem, and its tone is without such a tightly coiled force. It is discursive, it pauses for moments of humor and slowly unfolding description. [...] At times, in the lyric poem, we feel we are in a vortex; when we listen to the narrative poem, we are comfortable.”
Uh…okay. Cool. Whatever that means. Why would you not start by saying that a narrative poem tells a story? Are we assuming that’s obvious? I could agree, but then why do we get specific definitions for things like imagery and personification that are just as easily guessed at? Then she lists examples of narrative poems, but doesn’t print any excerpts in the text. If I didn't already have an idea of what a narrative poem might look like, this book would not illuminate it for me. I'd leave with only the vague sense that it's "comfortable", or that it's long. Or...longer than a lyric poem, which is also poorly defined, but shorter than a "longer poem". ???
There’s good information here, but it’s hardly new territory. I was hoping for something that got more to the heart of poetry and why we read/write/enjoy it, rather than retreading high school English class. I like that example poems (or excerpts of poems) are included, but they're often boring choices, and the distribution is wildly uneven. Some concepts get zero. Some get five or six.
It took me ages to finish this book, and it is only 118 pages long. The reason is that I was bored out of my mind—but for unknown reasons, I trudged on.
I propose instead The Poet’s Companion by Kim Adonnizio and Dorianne Laux for its approachable foray into the foundations of poetry with more integrated (and better) examples than A Poetry Handbook, plus suggested prompts/exercises at the end of each chapter; or The Poetry Home Repair Manual by Ted Kooser, which has an inviting, conversational tone while still offering simple, sound advice.
May 29, 2013
Mary Oliver remains beyond doubt one of the richest souls of poetry in contemporary Western culture, a strongly needed antidote to the rapaciousness and heartlessness of our society. I came to this book curious as to how someone so deeply enmeshed in the poetry of life would discuss the art of poetry-writing. (I hate to say "techniques" or "mechanics," words that so demean what fine poets do--although I grant that "art" itself derives from the same root as "artifice.") The prose is as clear and honed as her poetry, but as prose it does not shine like the verse. You could only expect crisp simplicity and limpidity from Oliver. The selections of poems she provides as examples fit clearly with her descriptions of the relevant angles of art she is discussing. My disappointment--and this was not a profound disappointment--was that little, if any, new was revealed about the art of poetry which you cannot find elsewhere. In fact, what was offered was less than can be found elsewhere.
The chapters each feel slight, as if she is distilling too much, but they come off as summaries rather than depth and digging. I feel she is almost holding back, as if she does not want us to know more about appreciating and writing poetry. I realize one aim here is to fulfill some needs of writing workshops, and so the absolute basics are in order. But the book could fulfill those needs for basics while also going into more detail about the greater subtleties of poetry-creation. I do not mean to say the author is deliberately restraining and holding back her secrets. Only that the original aim was perhaps too rudimentary.
Maybe I am expecting too much, and even the greatest poets really have no place to attempt digging into their intuitions and hearts for whatever makes their blood and poetry organs turn out their beauty. Keats gave a few prosaic hints of his own poetic outlook in a single essay. Eliot as a critic certainly offered a lot of material from which can be inferred his own poetics. I am no poet, so I am not begging for secrets to make my own poetry organ go. At worst, I so joy in being in Oliver's spirit that I, like any of her followers, could only wish for more such prose work, along, of course, with the verse she has generously provided.
The chapters each feel slight, as if she is distilling too much, but they come off as summaries rather than depth and digging. I feel she is almost holding back, as if she does not want us to know more about appreciating and writing poetry. I realize one aim here is to fulfill some needs of writing workshops, and so the absolute basics are in order. But the book could fulfill those needs for basics while also going into more detail about the greater subtleties of poetry-creation. I do not mean to say the author is deliberately restraining and holding back her secrets. Only that the original aim was perhaps too rudimentary.
Maybe I am expecting too much, and even the greatest poets really have no place to attempt digging into their intuitions and hearts for whatever makes their blood and poetry organs turn out their beauty. Keats gave a few prosaic hints of his own poetic outlook in a single essay. Eliot as a critic certainly offered a lot of material from which can be inferred his own poetics. I am no poet, so I am not begging for secrets to make my own poetry organ go. At worst, I so joy in being in Oliver's spirit that I, like any of her followers, could only wish for more such prose work, along, of course, with the verse she has generously provided.
March 18, 2017
I suspect the problem I had with Mary Oliver's A Poetry Handbook was that I really, really wanted it to be Strunk and White 2: This Time it's Verse-onal.
Oliver presents a concise and straightforward introduction to the art of poetry, focusing on the importance of both exposing yourself to many different poems and poets and of imitating some of those many, techniques which are considered traditional in the visual arts but not so much in the written. Having laid her foundation, she moves on to the building of the structure of a poem - the sound, the line, the form, the verse, the image - before closing with the finishing touches of revision and a debate of the pros and cons of workshopping versus solitary composition.
It's all fine, so far as it goes, but the tone felt a little elevated for something theoretically intended to open up access to poetry; whatever Oliver's arguments against the conversational style of modern poetry, her Handbook could have used some of the sly humor of Strunk and White. Still, blink and you'll miss this guide, so the MFA-program tone doesn't have much time to wear on you.
While an excellent choice for something to assign students in a composition class, Oliver's Handbook's formal tone and over-reliance on samples of verse drawn from overexposed poems (Leaves of Grass, The Red Wheelbarrow, Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening) may make this a less-than-ideal pick for reluctant readers of poetry who are looking for a friendlier point of entry to the art.
Oliver presents a concise and straightforward introduction to the art of poetry, focusing on the importance of both exposing yourself to many different poems and poets and of imitating some of those many, techniques which are considered traditional in the visual arts but not so much in the written. Having laid her foundation, she moves on to the building of the structure of a poem - the sound, the line, the form, the verse, the image - before closing with the finishing touches of revision and a debate of the pros and cons of workshopping versus solitary composition.
It's all fine, so far as it goes, but the tone felt a little elevated for something theoretically intended to open up access to poetry; whatever Oliver's arguments against the conversational style of modern poetry, her Handbook could have used some of the sly humor of Strunk and White. Still, blink and you'll miss this guide, so the MFA-program tone doesn't have much time to wear on you.
While an excellent choice for something to assign students in a composition class, Oliver's Handbook's formal tone and over-reliance on samples of verse drawn from overexposed poems (Leaves of Grass, The Red Wheelbarrow, Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening) may make this a less-than-ideal pick for reluctant readers of poetry who are looking for a friendlier point of entry to the art.
July 29, 2016
This is the shortest book I've read about crafting poetry, but that doesn't take away from the fact that it's very useful for poets. Mary Oliver is a Pulitzer Prize winner, and the language and instruction she uses here is lush and useful. She breaks down the mechanics of poetry. She also strongly advocates that even though most of today's poetry is written in free verse, serious writers and readers of poetry should explore and be grounded in the classics.
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January 20, 2021i really and truly loved this. i found it helpful on multiple fronts: 1) thinking about prose that is poetic in my own writing 2) thinking about the poetry that i read and how to understand it better 3) teaching poetry--the chapter on sound is genuinely the foundation upon which i taught beowulf and i wish i'd had it frankly when i was writing my chapter on idylls. i do think its something i'll return to again--i skimmed over some chapters which i didn't feel i needed particularly but i do know i will come back to the chapter on lines--i like sentence variation and i have to try really hard at it so this will be useful. any way: hearty recommend for prose writers, poets, poetry readers, teachers and students.
April 18, 2021
This is a really wonderful book. She succinctly pulls together an overview of poetry as a whole, and as parts. I will be returning to this, and probably including it in educating my kids someday.
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July 18, 2019A great insight into what it takes to write great poetry.
Wish I had read this when in school I might have understood poetry more instead of just memorising it.
Highly recommend and highly recommend Mary Oliver poetry.
Wish I had read this when in school I might have understood poetry more instead of just memorising it.
Highly recommend and highly recommend Mary Oliver poetry.
October 12, 2019
'A poem that is composed without the sweet and correct formalities of language, which are what sets it apart from the dailiness of ordinary writing, is doomed. It will not fly. It will be raucous and sloppy -the work of an amateur.'
And here's to another book on the craft of writing poetry! This one, though, being by a talented practitioner of the art that is, Mary Oliver, celebrated American poetess winner (among other acclaimed recognitions) of the National Book Award (1992) and the Pulitzer Prize (1984).
As an introduction, there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. Explaining forms, verses, accentuations and else she is clear, informative, and straight to the point. It's just that, in between the lines, one can read she has convictions on what constitute poetry; and I would have loved these convictions to be hammered more forcefully instead of being shyly relegated into the background. I believe indeed her views to be common sense, yet in our dreadful poetical landscape (who read poetry nowadays?... Exactly!) way more than relevant and needed.
For a start, she gently reminds that one cannot write decent poetry without having a clue about the technical side of the craft. She even goes further, by suggesting that one cannot built anything strong and original if it's not built upon the established canon that is, traditional poetry.
That may sound like obvious. Yet when most of our established literary intelligentsia proudly sneers at traditional and/ or formal writing (e.g. see how many dismiss even rhymes...) and then nag about poetry readers being scarce these days (duh!) here's indeed a strong point that, I think, would have deserved to be yelled.
Now, don't get it wrong! 'A Poetry Handbook' doesn't bash on free verse as opposed to metrical form! It's just that, in my opinion, she is too gentle nailing crucial points that many came to overlook:
'Is poetry language that is spontaneous, impulsive? Yes, it is. Is it also language that is composed, considerate, appropriate, and effective, though you read the poem a hundred times? Yes, it is. And this is as true of free verse as it is of metrical verse.'
I know, some will appreciate such lack of patronising attitude and haughtiness. I just personally believe that, in regard to how poetry turned to be during the past few decades, being brutally blunt is exactly the tone that's needed to put the art back on track. Considering who she is, Mary Oliver of all people, would have been entitled to do just that.
After all, it's not complicated to write a good and decent poem. It's all about prosody on the one hand, and images on the other. About, she dedicates whole chapters to rhythm, choice of words (sound, accuracy, connotation...) and, most importantly, figurative language (figures of speech) that are straight to the point.
In a word, this short yet relevant little book will be useful, not only to whose aspiring to write poetry but, also, any poetry reader in general so as to get a better understanding and hence appreciation of the craft. Enjoy!
And here's to another book on the craft of writing poetry! This one, though, being by a talented practitioner of the art that is, Mary Oliver, celebrated American poetess winner (among other acclaimed recognitions) of the National Book Award (1992) and the Pulitzer Prize (1984).
As an introduction, there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. Explaining forms, verses, accentuations and else she is clear, informative, and straight to the point. It's just that, in between the lines, one can read she has convictions on what constitute poetry; and I would have loved these convictions to be hammered more forcefully instead of being shyly relegated into the background. I believe indeed her views to be common sense, yet in our dreadful poetical landscape (who read poetry nowadays?... Exactly!) way more than relevant and needed.
For a start, she gently reminds that one cannot write decent poetry without having a clue about the technical side of the craft. She even goes further, by suggesting that one cannot built anything strong and original if it's not built upon the established canon that is, traditional poetry.
That may sound like obvious. Yet when most of our established literary intelligentsia proudly sneers at traditional and/ or formal writing (e.g. see how many dismiss even rhymes...) and then nag about poetry readers being scarce these days (duh!) here's indeed a strong point that, I think, would have deserved to be yelled.
Now, don't get it wrong! 'A Poetry Handbook' doesn't bash on free verse as opposed to metrical form! It's just that, in my opinion, she is too gentle nailing crucial points that many came to overlook:
'Is poetry language that is spontaneous, impulsive? Yes, it is. Is it also language that is composed, considerate, appropriate, and effective, though you read the poem a hundred times? Yes, it is. And this is as true of free verse as it is of metrical verse.'
I know, some will appreciate such lack of patronising attitude and haughtiness. I just personally believe that, in regard to how poetry turned to be during the past few decades, being brutally blunt is exactly the tone that's needed to put the art back on track. Considering who she is, Mary Oliver of all people, would have been entitled to do just that.
After all, it's not complicated to write a good and decent poem. It's all about prosody on the one hand, and images on the other. About, she dedicates whole chapters to rhythm, choice of words (sound, accuracy, connotation...) and, most importantly, figurative language (figures of speech) that are straight to the point.
In a word, this short yet relevant little book will be useful, not only to whose aspiring to write poetry but, also, any poetry reader in general so as to get a better understanding and hence appreciation of the craft. Enjoy!
December 12, 2019
I am a little scared of poetry. I don’t have the patience to decode all those metaphors and allusions dished up in iambic pentameter; I always want the poet to cut to the chase. Yet I’ve often wondered if I’ve been missing something, so poetry stands before me like a challenge. As there is fast food and fast fashion, there is also the gulping consumption of fast culture and perhaps the reading of poetry could be part of the antidote.
Mary Oliver (1935-2019) was a Pulitzer Prize winning poet, perhaps better known in her native America than in the UK. Her poems are brief and crisp and seem as good a starting place for a novice poetry reader as any – though I am open to suggestion.
Although this is a technical book written for the writers of poetry, I thought it might help me with my explorations and, to an extent, I was right. It explains meters, stresses and rhythm and discusses figurative language such as simile and personification, which I found useful. Incidentally, the book was published in 1994 before the engulfing dominance of Rap, to which Oliver does not refer.
I was more taken with her discussion of the creative process itself, of which some examples here:
“In my own work, I usually revise through forty or fifty drafts. Some lines come to you nearly perfect, as easily as a dream arranges itself during sleep. That’s luck. That’s grace. But this is the usual way: hard work, hard work, hard work. This is the way it is done.”
“This I have always known – that if I did not live my life immersed in the one activity which suits me, and which also keeps me utterly happy and intrigued, I would someday come to bitter and mortal regret.”
“Among the things I learned were two of special interest to poets. First, that one can rise early and have time to write before the world’s work schedule begins. Also, that one can live simply and honourably on just about enough money to keep a chicken alive. And do so cheerfully.”
“Poetry is a life-cherishing force….For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry. Yes indeed.”
Mary Oliver (1935-2019) was a Pulitzer Prize winning poet, perhaps better known in her native America than in the UK. Her poems are brief and crisp and seem as good a starting place for a novice poetry reader as any – though I am open to suggestion.
Although this is a technical book written for the writers of poetry, I thought it might help me with my explorations and, to an extent, I was right. It explains meters, stresses and rhythm and discusses figurative language such as simile and personification, which I found useful. Incidentally, the book was published in 1994 before the engulfing dominance of Rap, to which Oliver does not refer.
I was more taken with her discussion of the creative process itself, of which some examples here:
“In my own work, I usually revise through forty or fifty drafts. Some lines come to you nearly perfect, as easily as a dream arranges itself during sleep. That’s luck. That’s grace. But this is the usual way: hard work, hard work, hard work. This is the way it is done.”
“This I have always known – that if I did not live my life immersed in the one activity which suits me, and which also keeps me utterly happy and intrigued, I would someday come to bitter and mortal regret.”
“Among the things I learned were two of special interest to poets. First, that one can rise early and have time to write before the world’s work schedule begins. Also, that one can live simply and honourably on just about enough money to keep a chicken alive. And do so cheerfully.”
“Poetry is a life-cherishing force….For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry. Yes indeed.”
June 8, 2012
I usually read books like these more for the poetry than for the advice and this one was a little short on the poetry. Short in general, so a quick read.
It didn't make me want to lock myself in a room and start, so, while it was clear and concise, I'm only giving it 3 stars.
Not that my opinion matters.
It didn't make me want to lock myself in a room and start, so, while it was clear and concise, I'm only giving it 3 stars.
Not that my opinion matters.
February 15, 2024
I use this book in one of my courses and have found it's one of the best at explaining poetry both to new poets and also to those students who thought they didn't like poetry. It's clear, concise, no-nonsense and incredibly helpful for new poets and those polishing their craft.
May 5, 2009
Brilliant insights from my favorite poet
November 25, 2013
After slogging through this tedious and enervating guide to poetry, I can't even muster the energy to type a complete sen
February 11, 2025
I couldn’t have chosen a better book to begin my journey in poetry. It didn’t just teach me, it made me devour poems, savor sonnets and iambic pentameters, feeling the pulse of literary music, and sensing the urgency woven into tetrameters. Spondees and trochees landed like scoops of ice cream, each rhythm a new delight. It helped me learn to hear the length of a line, the dance of alliteration, the echo of assonance.
After this book, reading poetry felt like stepping into a park—some lines a gentle see-saw, others a swift slide, a soaring swing, or the thrill of a roller coaster. It was not just reading but an immersion, a child’s wonder in a theme park of words. A beautiful, essential read for anyone who wants to elevate their experience of poetry.
After this book, reading poetry felt like stepping into a park—some lines a gentle see-saw, others a swift slide, a soaring swing, or the thrill of a roller coaster. It was not just reading but an immersion, a child’s wonder in a theme park of words. A beautiful, essential read for anyone who wants to elevate their experience of poetry.
May 5, 2021
I really loved reading and teaching this one. A patient, generous, accessible, wise (if at times just the tiniest bit patronizing, but comes from a good teacherly place) text to ease into meter, free verse, and all kinds of techniques. Tickled to discover she has a book exclusively about writing meter which I hope to read soon :)
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