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A review by steveatwaywords
Breezeway: New Poems by John Ashbery
challenging
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? N/A
- Strong character development? N/A
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? N/A
- Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A
2.75
I wanted very much to read this collection of poetry, as I have admired the single doses of Ashbery I had received up to this point. So first, if you are seeking more traditional verse that opens itself to understanding, run away now.
This accounts for many of the reviews of Ashbery: his simple language nonetheless yields little comprehension. Half-utterances collide with others in non sequiturs which occasionally make reference to popular culture, more often to what appear inside jokes or private talks, all from the seeming musings of an elderly speaker gamely spry and moderately hip. This poetry was not "above my head"--I leave such claims for Blake or parts of Eliot. No, Ashbery here is just difficult: and that "difficult" is in his opacity to readers. His poetry isn't hard; the author is, and not for any reason that I can account for. The occasional nugget of wry insight (a promise of meaning, perhaps?) is quickly buried in the bizarre.
If the answer is that his poetry reveals a flippancy and irreverence to culture, events, and relationships, my response is that each of his works carries essentially this same unchanging message. Why read more than one? My fear is that, as this is one of his later collections, old John may be phoning it in.
But I admit to not having read near enough to make such a general claim. Instead, I will say that this is not a good entry point for Ashbery. Surely--surely--there is a better one.
This accounts for many of the reviews of Ashbery: his simple language nonetheless yields little comprehension. Half-utterances collide with others in non sequiturs which occasionally make reference to popular culture, more often to what appear inside jokes or private talks, all from the seeming musings of an elderly speaker gamely spry and moderately hip. This poetry was not "above my head"--I leave such claims for Blake or parts of Eliot. No, Ashbery here is just difficult: and that "difficult" is in his opacity to readers. His poetry isn't hard; the author is, and not for any reason that I can account for. The occasional nugget of wry insight (a promise of meaning, perhaps?) is quickly buried in the bizarre.
If the answer is that his poetry reveals a flippancy and irreverence to culture, events, and relationships, my response is that each of his works carries essentially this same unchanging message. Why read more than one? My fear is that, as this is one of his later collections, old John may be phoning it in.
But I admit to not having read near enough to make such a general claim. Instead, I will say that this is not a good entry point for Ashbery. Surely--surely--there is a better one.