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mary_soon_lee's review against another edition
4.0
This is a short collection of poetry by Edward Thomas, edited by William Cooke. Thomas was a British writer who died in 1917 after volunteering to serve in World War I. He spent most of his working life writing prose, but turned to poetry in 1914, inspired by a friendship with Robert Frost. I find it very hard to be objective about his poetry, because one of his poems ("Adlestrop") was among the first I learned by heart. I loved it then. I still love it. I consider it almost perfect.
In reading this collection, I marked 14 of the poems as ones that stood out to me, with "Adlestrop" and "As the Team's Head-Brass" currently my favorites. But many of these poems were new to me, and I've found that when I like a poem, re-reading it often makes me like it better still. So in a year or two or three, I may have other favorites. Reading the book made me sad, because Thomas seems to often have been unhappy, and because he died too young, and because he had so few years to write poetry.
Here is a 17-word extract from his poem "Words," in which he is speaking about words themselves and about being a poet:
But though older far
Than oldest yew, -
As our hills are, old, -
Worn new
Again and again:
About my book reviews: I try to review every book I read, including those that I don't end up enjoying. The reviews are not scholarly, but just indicate my reaction as a reader, reading being my addiction. I am miserly with 5-star reviews; 4 stars means I liked a book very much; 3 stars means I liked it; 2 stars means I didn't like it (though often the 2-star books are very popular with other readers and/or are by authors whose other work I've loved).
In reading this collection, I marked 14 of the poems as ones that stood out to me, with "Adlestrop" and "As the Team's Head-Brass" currently my favorites. But many of these poems were new to me, and I've found that when I like a poem, re-reading it often makes me like it better still. So in a year or two or three, I may have other favorites. Reading the book made me sad, because Thomas seems to often have been unhappy, and because he died too young, and because he had so few years to write poetry.
Here is a 17-word extract from his poem "Words," in which he is speaking about words themselves and about being a poet:
But though older far
Than oldest yew, -
As our hills are, old, -
Worn new
Again and again:
About my book reviews: I try to review every book I read, including those that I don't end up enjoying. The reviews are not scholarly, but just indicate my reaction as a reader, reading being my addiction. I am miserly with 5-star reviews; 4 stars means I liked a book very much; 3 stars means I liked it; 2 stars means I didn't like it (though often the 2-star books are very popular with other readers and/or are by authors whose other work I've loved).
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