Kathryn Stripling Byer Books

I think you should seriously consider removing Publisher Weekly's review; this is a very good selection of poems. The poet's word choice seems so natural. The poems' sequence of words seem inevitable and the writing is beautiful and appears effortless. The themes are accessible but not cliched. These are not screeching confessional poems, nor do they contain the so-called words of the street ("f...", sh..." etc) It is becoming a cliche but the review by Publisher Weekly almost certainly stems from east coast bias. Highly recommend her poetry along with that of Betty Adcock and David Mason. Good poetry is being written in the U.S.; too bad that you have to read reviews by Fred Chappell to discover it.

Lord only knows who Publishers Weekly gets to review its books, but it goofed with this reviewer. (Maybe from NYC, too jaded to know what real poetry is?) This is a wonderful book, lyrical, unashamedly so, and full of the the details that make literature stay in one's imagination.
While the NYC critics celebrate the obscure and fashionable (Jorie Graham, anyone???), real poets are out in the hinterlands writing memorable poetry. Let's read them and let the literary establishment go about its silly business.

So much of contemporary poetry is as prosy as your average obituary. And just about as engaging. A few poets, more than a few of them from the South, still know how to wield a line, a stanza, a whole poem. This poet does. The poems in this book, in the voice of a mountain woman named Alma, gather up the physical, emotional, erotic life of one woman into a texture of beauty and terror. "Abandoned to hoot owls and copperheads," Alma survives and sings her journey through the dark into luminous song. If you despair of what is happening to poetry, these days, don't. Read this book.

Byer is quoted as saying of the Blue Ridge Mts. "...these mountains are a crazy-quilt of trails haunted by women's voices," and what Byer is successful in doing is bringing those voices to life. Each poem connects the reader with the lives of women who have lived in the mountians, the isolation of their daily lives and how they sink into or break the isolation by communicating with each other through their songs. The poems are sometimes joyful and sometimes haunting as the boundary between domestic space and nature overlap. I couldn't stop reading and usually with poetry I only read one or two poems at a time and then let it settle. But with this book I got caught up Byer's crazy-quilt and read untill the end. It is a rich book.

In CATCHING LIGHT, Kathryn Stripling Byer weaves yet again her own brand of poetic magic. Poems in the voice of an aging woman named Evelyn take us into the life and imagination of a woman who refuses to give up, refuses to let go of life. In lyrics with delicate yet strong movement and closure, she gathers her reader into the web that only language well used can weave. Byer continues to grow as a poet, and I look forward to future volumes. The terms Southern and Appalachian no longer apply to such work; it has moved beyond the regional and into a realm accessible to anyone who cares about poetry, regardless of its regional roots. All good poems begin in the particulars of their worlds, of course, but too often poems termed regional, especially Southern or Appalachian, are met with condescension from the more entlighted literati in NYC, Provincetown, and else where. Byer's poems rebuke such a constricted view of American poetry.

When the Southeastern Bookseller's Association selected this book for their 2002 Book of the Year in Poetry, they knew what they were doing. Kathryn Stripling Byer's fourth book of poetry takes on the subject of a woman's old age, her last days, and how she reacts to them. By turns stark, witty, lyrical, elegiac, these poems seem determined to rise to the challenge issued by Eavan Boland in several of her poems and essays that writing about an aging woman is difficult if not downright impossible in the Western poetic tradition. In the voice of a woman by the name of Evelyn, and growing out of a collaboration with photographer Louanne Watley, whose Evelyn Series illuminated the last days of an eccentric old woman, these poems take the reader into Evelyn's interior world, her fears, her sexuality, her memories. It's quite a journey and one well worth taking, not only for its insights but also for the beauty and clarity of its poetry.

Kathryn Byer's BLACK SHAWL follows the thread of her earlier prize-winning WILDWOOD FLOWER, that is, it remains fascinated by the lives of women in the southern mountains. Whereas the earlier book presented the voice of one woman named Alma, this latest book gathers up the voices of many women, most of them singers, quilters, story-tellers. The poems weave Byer's distinctive music into every line, creating a verbal tapestry that haunts long after one has closed the book. Byer is one of the country's best poets and deserves a far wider readership. Highly recommended.

Once again Steve Holt has created a book of poems in which the words come to life and jump off the page! As the comedian Steve Martin said in one of his routines, "some people have a way with words, others, not have way." Steve Holt definitely "has way." Comfortable in the setting of his native Appalachia, he effortlessly spins poem after poem about the land he loves and the events he has experienced. This book was an easy read, perfect for a person like me who is not trained in poetry, but it has also passed muster for those who are. So much so that my daughter, who is a teacher, has taken my copy of the book for use in her high school English class. Eddie Prichard

Kathryn Byer's first book of poetry was published in the Associated Writing Program's Award Series, selected by John Frederick Nims, who has an excellent introductory statement on the dust jacket. Nims praises the robust and affirmative singing and story-telling in this collection, and he is right on target with his comments. The Girl In the Midst of the Harvest is a book about growing up in the flatlands of the South, coming of age in the mountains of North Carolina. The poems are by turns rollicking and controlled. The middle section explores the mythology of family history in a sequence titled "Search Party." One of the best books of poetry to come out of the South in the last 20 years, or so I believe.

This anthology could have included a lot more than fifteen poets: North Carolina is for some reason full of remarkable writers, many poets among them. But by limiting the number of authors represented, Michael McFee is able to offer us a significant profile of each. Would that more anthologists took this approach! And this is a pretty varied crowd. There's A.R. Ammons, two-time winner of the National Book Award, and Maya Angelou, known to practically everyone after her appearance at the 1992 Presidential Inauguration--and then there's little-known Jonathan Williams, whose whimsical, often outrageous poems have usually been published by small presses. There's Robert Morgan, who writes of Appalachian life, and James Applewhite, who writes about the tobacco country down east. Some of these writers, such as Angelou, James Seay, and Betty Adcock, grew up in other parts of the South, and virtually all of them have traveled widely; despite its subtitle, this collection is anything but provincial. It's a must-have for those interested in North Carolina writing, but anyone who appreciates good poetry will enjoy this book.

...That's just what this book is! True, I may be partial due to the fact Mr. Holt is my Senior English Teacher, but the poems and essays are wonderful. Many of the poems give such rich detail that one might think they are there with the author as he narrates the action. One of my favorite poems, "Jesus Wept" seems rather humorous on the surface, but as I read it over and over again, it shows the somber truth of human nature. This book is perfect for anyone who has a serious understanding of poetry.

Writing, or going on at length about how one cannot or should not write, about the terrorist attacks of 9/11 has become something of a cottage industry. There are many risks involved in taking on this topic, but Kathryn Byer comes at it slant, as Emily Dickinson advised. The first poem, "Safe," sets the tone of emotional honesty, particularly the last line, responding to the young daughter's cradling of a bird killed by flying into window glass, "Now go wash your hands." The poems in this chapbook are arranged almost musically, and there is enough variety of form and subject to sustain such movement. Byer has written four previous books, all graced with the lyricism, keen eye for detail, and ear for poetic music that mark her work. WAKE explores new ground. And it shows that poetry can indeed speak to the events of our time, with no loss of poetic power. Moreover, this book is a beautiful example of bookmaking. Hand-sewn, with handmade endpapers, it rests in one's hands like a gift. It has been designed with these powerful but restrained poems as its focus, and the final product is stunning.

I found this book through a review and interview with one of the editors which recommended it for Mother's Day. I purchased one for my daughter, then one for my mother, then realized I would want to know what they were reading, so lastly, one for myself. An eclectic mix of fiction, nonfiction, poetry and letters around the central theme of mother-daughter transitions, the book was a fast read that stimulated a kaleidoscope of intergenerational images. I also appreciate the diversity represented by the contributing authors. The multicultural approach simply serves to underline the universality of this most powerful relationship, whatever language its participants speak.