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shelfimprovement's review
4.0
For the Read Harder Challenge, a collection of poetry in translation about a topic other than love.
juliannealkire's review
4.0
Poetry-haters, please note: This is a review of a poetry book. As such, it contains quotations from poems. Read at your own risk! #sorrynotsorry
The word "Common" in this title is somewhat deceptive, as we often use "Common" in a derogatory manner to refer to things that are insignificant or even despicable. However, as these poems so beautifully remind us, common things derive their value in the same way uncommon things do... Through the significance placed on them by humans. A bowl, for example, handcrafted by a master potter, or given by a friend, or handed down through generations, becomes more than a bowl in the eyes of its user. As they take nourishment from the food placed in it, it's easy for them to remember or imagine the people and events connected with it in a way the imbues the simple object with meaning. And so, common objects become special when we take the time to appreciate the lives that have intermixed with their untold stories. Perhaps Neruda says it best in the opening Ode of this collection:
...glasses, knives and
scissors-
all bear
the trace
of someone's fingers
on their handle or surface,
the trace of a distant hand
lost
in the depths of forgetfulness.
-page 15
Of course- as with all great poetry- these odes are not only about the objects to which they are addressed. Ode to a pair of scissors, for example, is less about scissors and more about life experiences that bind us together and tear us asunder. I won't quote it here, because I'd basically have to include the whole poem, and I'm not that cruel to all my poetry-hating friends who are still reading even after the dire warning that began this review (brave, self-sacrificing souls!). Plus, it's more enjoyable if you experience the poem in its entirety, with the illustrations and the many line breaks, as published.
There are hints of Neruda's personal experiences and ideology in many of the odes. Perhaps the links would be more obvious to someone who has studied his work in detail, but this was my first experience reading Neruda and I knew next to nothing about his life. Honestly, I wasn't thinking much about how his personality might have shaped these odes until I encountered these lines:
O bread familiar to every mouth,
we will not
kneel before you:
men
do not
implore
unclear gods
or obscure angels:
we will make our own bread
out of sea and soil,
we will plant wheat
on our earth and the planets,
bread for every mouth,
for every person,
our daily bread.
-Ode to Bread, pages 124-125
It then goes on to explain how we will fight for bread, should it be taken away by oppressors. At this point, I was thinking two main thoughts:
1) "Whoops! Hadn't realized until this moment that I'd stereotyped him as being Catholic because he's from South America. Glad to know that's not the case. I wonder what his worldview actually was... Humanist, perhaps?" I resolved to look him up after I finished the book.
2) "Okay... So does bread stand for something more than just bread? Something essential to the survival of the human spirit, like bread is to the body (if you don't eat gluten-free, that is!)? Perhaps bread is freedom, or love, or net neutrality?" I decided that the last option could be ruled out by researching whether or not Neruda had ever traveled in a time machine, since he died in 1973, but that the other two might be hard to narrow down.
Then, I remembered these lines from a different ode, a few pages earlier:
And so the coming
of the new life
that,
fighting and singing,
we preach,
will be a coming of soup bowls,
a perfect panoply
of spoons.
An ocean of steam rising from pots
in a world
without hunger,
and a total mobilization of spoons,
will shed light where once was darkness
-Ode to the spoon, page 105
So, in at least one sense, it appeared that food analogies were actually referring to food. I know, it's shocking to me too. It's also shocking that I was looking for a meaning beyond food because I'm quite honestly obsessed with food. (The fact that one of the poems is about French fries made me so happy.) I think I missed it because I'm an American and hunger and poverty aren't things I'm forced to reckon with on a daily basis, so of course lines that talk about ending world hunger don't necessarily resonate with me as well as they might- or should.
When I googled Neruda, I also found that he was famously Communist, which explains the food analogies, as well as his propensity for seeing value in the ordinary and the various war references that are sprinkled throughout the poems (although he was also very involved in the Spanish Civil War and lived through both world wars, so those things would have influenced him too). After all, in Communist theories of his day, the working class- or "common people"- rising up against their oppressors were seen as the only hope for ending world poverty.
I end this review with my own poem, An Ode to Pablo Neruda that I made up on the spot, so bear with me:
When I think
of you,
of your life,
of your balding head
in your later years,
I think
of all
these things I know
because
I read
your odes
and
Wikipedia.
I think
it must have been
glorious
to live
before
the "Cold War"
grew hot
in tropical
Vietnam,
before the
Rwandan genocide,
before
9/11/2001.
It was not
improbable
for you
to think the
Holocaust
a fluke, that
Hiroshima
would bring
peace,
that evil
could be
vanquished through
ingenuity.
But I
do not live
in such
a world.
As such,
I think
I could never
convince myself,
as you did,
that the problems
were problems
with systems,
not people.
And yet
I admire
your idealism,
the way your words
are light,
mellow,
soft,
despite great evil.
We disagree
if people
can rid themselves
of poverty,
of hunger.
But we agree
humanity
was not made
for
a world of
emptiness and
despair.
Heaven is our
home.
We will reach it
or die,
still looking.
The word "Common" in this title is somewhat deceptive, as we often use "Common" in a derogatory manner to refer to things that are insignificant or even despicable. However, as these poems so beautifully remind us, common things derive their value in the same way uncommon things do... Through the significance placed on them by humans. A bowl, for example, handcrafted by a master potter, or given by a friend, or handed down through generations, becomes more than a bowl in the eyes of its user. As they take nourishment from the food placed in it, it's easy for them to remember or imagine the people and events connected with it in a way the imbues the simple object with meaning. And so, common objects become special when we take the time to appreciate the lives that have intermixed with their untold stories. Perhaps Neruda says it best in the opening Ode of this collection:
...glasses, knives and
scissors-
all bear
the trace
of someone's fingers
on their handle or surface,
the trace of a distant hand
lost
in the depths of forgetfulness.
-page 15
Of course- as with all great poetry- these odes are not only about the objects to which they are addressed. Ode to a pair of scissors, for example, is less about scissors and more about life experiences that bind us together and tear us asunder. I won't quote it here, because I'd basically have to include the whole poem, and I'm not that cruel to all my poetry-hating friends who are still reading even after the dire warning that began this review (brave, self-sacrificing souls!). Plus, it's more enjoyable if you experience the poem in its entirety, with the illustrations and the many line breaks, as published.
There are hints of Neruda's personal experiences and ideology in many of the odes. Perhaps the links would be more obvious to someone who has studied his work in detail, but this was my first experience reading Neruda and I knew next to nothing about his life. Honestly, I wasn't thinking much about how his personality might have shaped these odes until I encountered these lines:
O bread familiar to every mouth,
we will not
kneel before you:
men
do not
implore
unclear gods
or obscure angels:
we will make our own bread
out of sea and soil,
we will plant wheat
on our earth and the planets,
bread for every mouth,
for every person,
our daily bread.
-Ode to Bread, pages 124-125
It then goes on to explain how we will fight for bread, should it be taken away by oppressors. At this point, I was thinking two main thoughts:
1) "Whoops! Hadn't realized until this moment that I'd stereotyped him as being Catholic because he's from South America. Glad to know that's not the case. I wonder what his worldview actually was... Humanist, perhaps?" I resolved to look him up after I finished the book.
2) "Okay... So does bread stand for something more than just bread? Something essential to the survival of the human spirit, like bread is to the body (if you don't eat gluten-free, that is!)? Perhaps bread is freedom, or love, or net neutrality?" I decided that the last option could be ruled out by researching whether or not Neruda had ever traveled in a time machine, since he died in 1973, but that the other two might be hard to narrow down.
Then, I remembered these lines from a different ode, a few pages earlier:
And so the coming
of the new life
that,
fighting and singing,
we preach,
will be a coming of soup bowls,
a perfect panoply
of spoons.
An ocean of steam rising from pots
in a world
without hunger,
and a total mobilization of spoons,
will shed light where once was darkness
-Ode to the spoon, page 105
So, in at least one sense, it appeared that food analogies were actually referring to food. I know, it's shocking to me too. It's also shocking that I was looking for a meaning beyond food because I'm quite honestly obsessed with food. (The fact that one of the poems is about French fries made me so happy.) I think I missed it because I'm an American and hunger and poverty aren't things I'm forced to reckon with on a daily basis, so of course lines that talk about ending world hunger don't necessarily resonate with me as well as they might- or should.
When I googled Neruda, I also found that he was famously Communist, which explains the food analogies, as well as his propensity for seeing value in the ordinary and the various war references that are sprinkled throughout the poems (although he was also very involved in the Spanish Civil War and lived through both world wars, so those things would have influenced him too). After all, in Communist theories of his day, the working class- or "common people"- rising up against their oppressors were seen as the only hope for ending world poverty.
I end this review with my own poem, An Ode to Pablo Neruda that I made up on the spot, so bear with me:
When I think
of you,
of your life,
of your balding head
in your later years,
I think
of all
these things I know
because
I read
your odes
and
Wikipedia.
I think
it must have been
glorious
to live
before
the "Cold War"
grew hot
in tropical
Vietnam,
before the
Rwandan genocide,
before
9/11/2001.
It was not
improbable
for you
to think the
Holocaust
a fluke, that
Hiroshima
would bring
peace,
that evil
could be
vanquished through
ingenuity.
But I
do not live
in such
a world.
As such,
I think
I could never
convince myself,
as you did,
that the problems
were problems
with systems,
not people.
And yet
I admire
your idealism,
the way your words
are light,
mellow,
soft,
despite great evil.
We disagree
if people
can rid themselves
of poverty,
of hunger.
But we agree
humanity
was not made
for
a world of
emptiness and
despair.
Heaven is our
home.
We will reach it
or die,
still looking.
thewordsdevourer's review
funny
lighthearted
relaxing
slow-paced
3.0
a delightful set of poems on--ahem--common things that made me smile while reading, savoring and marveling at the many clever line breaks and structure. odes to common things is a book that restored wonder to common objects, many of which we take for granted or simply never even think abt at all. it's witty and smartly observed, yet its seeming simplicity belies, later in the book, political undertones as well. this edition also has nice drawings--overall.
adelaide_reads's review
lighthearted
relaxing
slow-paced
3.5
The book started off really well with stunning odes such as "Ode to Things", "Ode to the Table", and "Ode to the Bed". These have beautiful lines which captured my heart. However, as the book went on, the book moved out of my area of interest; it moved away from common things/objects and towards food.
janedallaway's review
4.0
I came across “Ode to a pair of socks” in one of the “ten poems to” books. I thought it was charming. This book was mentioned in an article I saw suggesting books that were good company during lockdown. And I liked the idea of celebrating ordinary things. I feel that I’d like it as an idea at all times, but especially when at home with ordinary things around me.
I think I like the idea slightly more than the execution, though I did enjoy;
- ode to a pair of scissors
- ode to the artichoke
And I liked the dual language, and illustrations in this edition.
I think I like the idea slightly more than the execution, though I did enjoy;
- ode to a pair of scissors
- ode to the artichoke
And I liked the dual language, and illustrations in this edition.
janebranson's review
5.0
Ordinary stuff made beautiful with love and luminous words. Today, "Scissors" and "Cat" are my favourites. Tomorrow it might be "Chair" and "Yellow Flowers".
mlindner's review
2.0
I adore Neruda's poetry but having read this and 'Ode to Opposites' I find that I do not care for his odes. Perhaps it is simply the ode form I do not care much for but until I read more odes I cannot say.