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The Art Of Subtraction: New And Selected Poems
An acclaimed American poet, Jay Parini is widely recognized for his ability to confront modern issues in a variety of forms, while adding a highly musical sense of phrasing and a relentless sense of humor. Parini, as seen in his previous works of poetry Anthracite Country (1982), Town Life (1988), and House of Days (1998)has created a remarkable voice of his own. The Art of New and Selected Poems is a testament to Parini's unique poetic style and constantly evolving vision. A compilation of fifty-nine new poems and forty-three from previous collections, The Art of Subtraction demonstrates Parini's wide range of poetic registers. One sequence of poems responds to the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. Others deal with personal themes and continue Parini's ongoing exploration of the relationship between language and mind. The poems drawn from previous collections have been carefully chosen to represent the breadth of his work and of his experience as an American poet over the course of his career.
- GenresPoetry
130 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2005
About the author
Jay Parini
194 books154 followersJay Parini (born 1948) is an American writer and academic. He is known for novels and poetry, biography and criticism.
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
August 20, 2018
I came across it by accident. Probably the best way to find poetry, now that I think of it. I liked a lot more poems in the collection than I expected.
Here's an example of one I liked.
Rise
One thing happens, then another.
In the long slow rise, so many hands
reach out and lift us
over fallen branches, hidden drops,
old crops of stone. The moon
tilts up its yellow chin. The clouds
disperse. We grow into a face
our mothers recognize as someone else:
a father's father, sister's sister.
Nobody is single in this world,
that's all we know, will ever know,
abut the way we come and go.
We're pulled to presence by a doctor's
urgent, gentle hands; we're laid
to sleep and covered over. Nobody's
alone. I'm here with you. Here
reaching for your fingers, holding on.
Jay Parini
Here's an example of one I liked.
Rise
One thing happens, then another.
In the long slow rise, so many hands
reach out and lift us
over fallen branches, hidden drops,
old crops of stone. The moon
tilts up its yellow chin. The clouds
disperse. We grow into a face
our mothers recognize as someone else:
a father's father, sister's sister.
Nobody is single in this world,
that's all we know, will ever know,
abut the way we come and go.
We're pulled to presence by a doctor's
urgent, gentle hands; we're laid
to sleep and covered over. Nobody's
alone. I'm here with you. Here
reaching for your fingers, holding on.
Jay Parini
August 9, 2011
This was a random buy, a guess, because it got good reviews AND I'd heard Parini's name (wrote a novel turned into a movie, The Last Station, also has shown up in the NYT)... it was only $1.99 at Barnes & Noble (I got a gift card, sue me). I hit the jackpot with this one. It's still on sale... go buy it!!
These are wonderful and extremely well-crafted, with both new poems and a selection from Parini's past books. Not having read him before, I thought this was a great introduction. On the whole, I liked his newer work better (not always a given with me, sometimes I feel like poets get lazy and start repeating themselves), but I dog-eared poems throughout the book, which is a definite keeper.
From political poetry, which opens the book, to poems about his childhood in mining country in Pennsylvania (most of these very well done, clear imagery and not melodramatic or overly sentimental), to poems about nature (also well done, and I have always felt these are hard) to his family and children, there's a wide range of topics here, all handled with grace and care.
If you don't like rhyming poetry for the most part, Parini might get you to like it. Not all his pieces rhyme, but the ones that do, whether in strict form or not, are musical and witty and often subtle. I was very impressed with his craftsmanship, and as someone who writes largely with rhymes and in form, these poems were inspiring. This is a quiet book with a lot of heft; these poems echoed for me in various ways. Parini never seems to get particularly agitated or extreme in his emotions -- I didn't find that a minus, but rather a mark of maturity and intellect. But, if you're looking for more drama in your poetry, you won't find it here. The poems I felt were most dramatic and/or emotional were the political ones, which weren't my favorites of his overall, but were well-done. Again, I think political poetry is hard to write well, and Parini seemed to me to have about a 50/50 track record with the ones in this book.
I actually dog-eared so many poems here that it will be hard to narrow down a list of favorites, but here are some (I typed up one and included part of a 2nd because his poems are impossible to find online):
The Art of Subtraction
This Reaping
Fish-Eye View
The President Alone
After the Terror
Walking the Trestle
They are all behind you, grinning,
with their eyes like dollars, their shouts
of dare you, dare you, dare you
broken by the wind. You squint ahead
where the rusty trestle wavers into sky
like a pirate's plank. And sun shines
darkly on the Susquehanna, forty feet
below. You stretch your arms
to the sides of space and walk
like a groom down that bare aisle.
Out in the middle, you turn to wave
and see their faces breaking like bubbles,
the waves beneath you flashing coins,
and all around you, chittering cables,
birds, and the bright air clapping.
A Short Address to the Academy of Silence
(last stanza):
Let fall what falls and still befalls us,
but resist the urge to pin it down.
The goslings risen from the lake in flight
must not be sentenced to a noose of words,
however lovely. Soldiers never say
how hard they fell, how wet the blood was.
Lovers in the dawn don't need a garland
of good words to grant that it was good,
what happened in the dark. We rhetoricians
must attend the world as if in mourning
or profoundly awed by what is given.
We must say the least of it, and cease.
These are wonderful and extremely well-crafted, with both new poems and a selection from Parini's past books. Not having read him before, I thought this was a great introduction. On the whole, I liked his newer work better (not always a given with me, sometimes I feel like poets get lazy and start repeating themselves), but I dog-eared poems throughout the book, which is a definite keeper.
From political poetry, which opens the book, to poems about his childhood in mining country in Pennsylvania (most of these very well done, clear imagery and not melodramatic or overly sentimental), to poems about nature (also well done, and I have always felt these are hard) to his family and children, there's a wide range of topics here, all handled with grace and care.
If you don't like rhyming poetry for the most part, Parini might get you to like it. Not all his pieces rhyme, but the ones that do, whether in strict form or not, are musical and witty and often subtle. I was very impressed with his craftsmanship, and as someone who writes largely with rhymes and in form, these poems were inspiring. This is a quiet book with a lot of heft; these poems echoed for me in various ways. Parini never seems to get particularly agitated or extreme in his emotions -- I didn't find that a minus, but rather a mark of maturity and intellect. But, if you're looking for more drama in your poetry, you won't find it here. The poems I felt were most dramatic and/or emotional were the political ones, which weren't my favorites of his overall, but were well-done. Again, I think political poetry is hard to write well, and Parini seemed to me to have about a 50/50 track record with the ones in this book.
I actually dog-eared so many poems here that it will be hard to narrow down a list of favorites, but here are some (I typed up one and included part of a 2nd because his poems are impossible to find online):
The Art of Subtraction
This Reaping
Fish-Eye View
The President Alone
After the Terror
Walking the Trestle
They are all behind you, grinning,
with their eyes like dollars, their shouts
of dare you, dare you, dare you
broken by the wind. You squint ahead
where the rusty trestle wavers into sky
like a pirate's plank. And sun shines
darkly on the Susquehanna, forty feet
below. You stretch your arms
to the sides of space and walk
like a groom down that bare aisle.
Out in the middle, you turn to wave
and see their faces breaking like bubbles,
the waves beneath you flashing coins,
and all around you, chittering cables,
birds, and the bright air clapping.
A Short Address to the Academy of Silence
(last stanza):
Let fall what falls and still befalls us,
but resist the urge to pin it down.
The goslings risen from the lake in flight
must not be sentenced to a noose of words,
however lovely. Soldiers never say
how hard they fell, how wet the blood was.
Lovers in the dawn don't need a garland
of good words to grant that it was good,
what happened in the dark. We rhetoricians
must attend the world as if in mourning
or profoundly awed by what is given.
We must say the least of it, and cease.
August 24, 2019
This collection includes new works as well as culling the best from previous publications. I particularly enjoyed his poems which dig into language and thinking. Some of the poems treat our more recent history -- 9/11, the Iraq war but I enjoyed the personal experience pieces the most.
March 26, 2012
These were very good in many places, 4 and 5, but the unbelief shines through elsewhere, making a 3 over all. Parini Reminds me of Frost.
May 5, 2019
Simple yet provacative.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews