Take a photo of a barcode or cover
A review by moonsequel
Actual Air by David Berman
5.0
Maybe I lack poetic literacy. I've often felt that I just don't really get poetry. I mean, some things are certainly nicer to read than others. But I think that, on the whole, the medium doesn't quite do it for me. It's probably this progression-based mindset I've worked myself into when it comes to reading. My compulsion to devour as many books as possible has to be quantified. If I am to make reading a part of me, I need numbers, if only to prove my worth to myself. I'm not averse to spending the required time with a difficult work, but I am prone to flying through a book of poems without giving it proper attention. I am still teaching myself to properly read poetry. But a lot is lost on me. So regard my review as such.
So obviously a poetry book written by the man who brought us the greatest opening line to an album of all time ("In 1984, I was hospitalized for approaching perfection") is gonna be pretty good. I'm generally wary of anything written by a celebrity/pseudo-celebrity, but Silver Jews listeners know Berman to be a real poet and a true artist. He has this talent for evoking nostalgia within the present. Displaying a poignant but also kinda casual grief for the passing moment. And, then, this book is chock full of late 90's artefacts of Americana that have begun to feel alien 25 years after Actual Air's publishing. There is a heavy atmosphere of longing and regret. Berman seems to recollects childhood almost indifferently, then turns to pounds his chest in anguish at the loss of yesterday afternoon. "The world is 66% Then and 33% Now." We pass into domesticity. Carpools, soft ball leagues, celebrity deaths, grocery stores. Margarine commercials mistaken for memories.
As someone currently living in that same Virginia that Berman spent adolescence, some of geographical and cultural observations are especially virulent. In the way that Raymond Carver's poetry is imbued with the feeling of the great Pacific Northwest, Berman's writing bleeds Virginia-- Virginia, Texas, Tennessesee, the American Southeast.
Gonna paste in a couple of stanzas that stood out to me especially:
"Do you remember the way the girls
would call out "love you!"
conveniently leaving out the "I"
as if they didn't want to commit
to their own declaration."
"He wasn't sure how the bathroom mirror worked
but he decided it must be powered
by the razor blades and asprin
he found in the engine compartment."
"Their keen eyes and ears twitch. The other couples
look beautiful tonight. They stroll around listening
to the brilliant conversation. The passionate speeches.
Clouds drift across the silverware. There is red larkspur,
blue gum, and ivy. A boy kneels before his date.
And the moon, I forgot to mention the moon."
I guess my overall opinion on this collection is that it rocks. Without knowing if I even really like poetry, I can say that I loved the poems in this book. My only complaint is that it costs several hundred dollars to get a physical copy. This is the type of book you take everywhere you go.
Things have not been the same since we lost David Berman.
"To the days beyond this one which are still perfect."
So obviously a poetry book written by the man who brought us the greatest opening line to an album of all time ("In 1984, I was hospitalized for approaching perfection") is gonna be pretty good. I'm generally wary of anything written by a celebrity/pseudo-celebrity, but Silver Jews listeners know Berman to be a real poet and a true artist. He has this talent for evoking nostalgia within the present. Displaying a poignant but also kinda casual grief for the passing moment. And, then, this book is chock full of late 90's artefacts of Americana that have begun to feel alien 25 years after Actual Air's publishing. There is a heavy atmosphere of longing and regret. Berman seems to recollects childhood almost indifferently, then turns to pounds his chest in anguish at the loss of yesterday afternoon. "The world is 66% Then and 33% Now." We pass into domesticity. Carpools, soft ball leagues, celebrity deaths, grocery stores. Margarine commercials mistaken for memories.
As someone currently living in that same Virginia that Berman spent adolescence, some of geographical and cultural observations are especially virulent. In the way that Raymond Carver's poetry is imbued with the feeling of the great Pacific Northwest, Berman's writing bleeds Virginia-- Virginia, Texas, Tennessesee, the American Southeast.
Gonna paste in a couple of stanzas that stood out to me especially:
"Do you remember the way the girls
would call out "love you!"
conveniently leaving out the "I"
as if they didn't want to commit
to their own declaration."
"He wasn't sure how the bathroom mirror worked
but he decided it must be powered
by the razor blades and asprin
he found in the engine compartment."
"Their keen eyes and ears twitch. The other couples
look beautiful tonight. They stroll around listening
to the brilliant conversation. The passionate speeches.
Clouds drift across the silverware. There is red larkspur,
blue gum, and ivy. A boy kneels before his date.
And the moon, I forgot to mention the moon."
I guess my overall opinion on this collection is that it rocks. Without knowing if I even really like poetry, I can say that I loved the poems in this book. My only complaint is that it costs several hundred dollars to get a physical copy. This is the type of book you take everywhere you go.
Things have not been the same since we lost David Berman.
"To the days beyond this one which are still perfect."