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A review by tomhill
The Beauty: Poems by Jane Hirshfield
4.0
"You were born noble: a tree.
Caustics and acids changed you
to what you now are,
protective, stiff, almost weightless.
Both captive and guard,
your desire is to be frivolous, self-destructive,
undone and opened.
Your bright red necklace announces:
"Tear here."
Inside you, tobacco.
Inside you, peppermints, gingersnaps, gum.
You would not be found
wrapping a mattress or gun.
You were dictated into the world
by the muse of "it could be."
You were unlikely but useful,
so kept.
I include this rather long passage from the poem "Cellophane: An Assay" because I lack the ability to describe Hirshfield's poetry and do it justice. What's interesting about this particular poem is that if you ignore the title, Hirshfield could be writing about a person. There's an intimacy and beauty there, and then you remember she is writing about cellophane. If she writes this way about an inanimate object, just imagine how she writes about people. Also, I like to pretend this poem is about a person. I feel as if I should read this collection at least once more because like any poetry worth reading, this work has depths which could be further delved. The imagery and the inventiveness of the language are wonderful.
Caustics and acids changed you
to what you now are,
protective, stiff, almost weightless.
Both captive and guard,
your desire is to be frivolous, self-destructive,
undone and opened.
Your bright red necklace announces:
"Tear here."
Inside you, tobacco.
Inside you, peppermints, gingersnaps, gum.
You would not be found
wrapping a mattress or gun.
You were dictated into the world
by the muse of "it could be."
You were unlikely but useful,
so kept.
I include this rather long passage from the poem "Cellophane: An Assay" because I lack the ability to describe Hirshfield's poetry and do it justice. What's interesting about this particular poem is that if you ignore the title, Hirshfield could be writing about a person. There's an intimacy and beauty there, and then you remember she is writing about cellophane. If she writes this way about an inanimate object, just imagine how she writes about people. Also, I like to pretend this poem is about a person. I feel as if I should read this collection at least once more because like any poetry worth reading, this work has depths which could be further delved. The imagery and the inventiveness of the language are wonderful.