Denise Levertov Books

This book was my first introduction to the poems of Denise Levertov. I heard about it in an essay written by Kathleen Norris in The Christian Century. The poems are strikingly beautiful and accessible to anyone. Levertov captures our imagination with the depth of her insights and the beauty of her words--not with the obscurity of her images. I have given copies of this to no less than four friends and each of them have bought other copies of her works for themselves. Highly recommended.

Denise Levertove (1923-1997) was born in London and educated at home. She came to American in 1948 and was introduced to the reading public in "New British Poets", going on to publish more than thirty books of poetry, essays, and translations, as well as enjoying a career as a distinguished university professor. This Great Unknowing is a fitting memorial to her talent as poet and observer of the human condition.

I miss Denise Levertov. I never knew her personally, but she spoke to me through her poetry in ways that few others have. I still remember how stunned I was to hear of her death--several months after the fact, in casual conversation with Deborah Larsen, a great-souled poet in her own right.

I've been rereading during these bleak but beautiful winter months Levertov's posthumous poems. To my mind, they offer some of the best work she ever did. They continue her themes of yearning for something that can't quite be uttered, her love for the particular, her striving to reach a level of awareness before which the heart of being will be revealed, and her concerns for justice and for the environment. But now there's a poignancy, a nostalgia, an anticipation--and perhaps an acceptance--to her verse that suggest a woman awaiting the end. I read her words--her sighs, really--and my soul expands just a little bit more than it would've.

One poem especially touches me--"Memory demands so much." Part of it is a fitting swansong for Levertov:

Take me flying before
you vanish, leaf, before
I have time to remember you,
intent instead on being
in the midst of that flight,
of those unforeseeable words.

Farewell, Denise. And thanks.

Denise Levertov, This Great Unknowing: Last Poems (New Directions, 1999)

I am ashamed to admit that for many years, based on some of her very early writings, I have mindlessly lumped Denise Levertov in with the Beats, specifically a number of the Beats whom I've never been able to stomach (Diane Wakoski being chief among them, with Robert Creeley and that Kelly fellow who used to publish a book every two weeks or so on Black Sparrow running a close second). It took me reading Richard Jackson's fantastic The Dismantling of Time in Contemporary Poetry a year and a half ago, in which Levertov is one of the six poets he discusses in depth, for me to consider changing that idea; by association, he puts her on the same level as such giants as Robert Penn Warren, John Hollander, and the finest living poet working in America today, Charles Simic, among others. My mind shifts gears gradually, sometimes very gradually, and I am just now getting round to giving the late Ms. Levertov another try. I'm quite glad I did, and wish I'd read The Dismantling of Time in Contemporary Poetry when it first came out some twelve years ago.

This Great Unknowing is, not surprisingly, a book overshadowed with the idea of death. Not an uncommon theme for a writer who's approaching the age of seventy-five and knows she probably isn't long for this world. The work herein is also possessed of a great maturity (something many seventy-five-year-old poets never acquire), a fine ear for tonality, and a decided calming of the radical spirit, though it has not gone away entirely. And when the radical spirit comes out, as with most poets, the work does suffer; Levertov, like almost all of her contemporaries, was never big on the art of subtlety. She has, however, over the years taken an increasing interest in letting the story tell itself, so once in a while the pokes at society do manage to find themselves enmeshed in a poem, rather than a political screed. Which puts her well ahead of most of the pack in that regard.

Her work speaks with a quiet authority here, a need for sharing rather than for imparting, and that makes all the difference;

"...In the crook
of an old and tattered snag
something gleams amid the stillness,
drawing the gaze: some bit of heartwood
so long exposed, weather and time
have polished it, as centuries
of awed lips, touching
a hand of stone, rub it
to somber gleaming."
(--"A Cryptic Sign")

or

"...(Meanwhile,
the April sun, cold though it is,
has opened the small daisies,
so many and so humble they get underfoot--
and don't care. Each one
a form of laughter.)..."
(--"Noblesse Oblige")

The few places where it does degenerate into the non-poetry of political rhetoric do cause the book to suffer, but by no means should those few spots (limited to a few lines here and there, never a whole poem) stop you from seeking this book out at your earliest opportunity. Levertov is a fine poet, and this seems an excellent starting point. I know I'll be reading more of her late work, hoping it's this good. ****

Another reviewer referred to the author as "Edward Dimock, the consummate scholar of Bengali studies". Nothing could be more true. I bought this book 35 years ago when I was a student at Indiana University in Bloomington, Indiana. It was stolen from me, but I never forgot it. I am glad that I was able to get it again from Amazon. This book gives the essence of Jayadeva, Vidyapati, Chandidas, Mirabai, et al. Do not think a small paperback lacks intellectual depth.

The reviews say it all. This is a very fortuitous partnership of scholar and poet! The songs come alive in their hands. Makes me want to sing them.

That Edward Dimock, the consummate scholar of Bengali studies, and Denise Levertov, the consummate modern poet, would collaborate together is a match made in heaven. The book is a gem. Give it to someone you love, yet better still, read it to him or her.

Or savor it alone in quiet still moments so delicious that only spiritual erotic love poems, perfectly and sensually rendered, could dare express their rare flavor. That flavor, rasa, is the taste of love, served up authentically and exquisitely, but alas, in far too small a portion.

Nonetheless don't hesitate. Bite

This collection of "selected poems on religious themes" is not to be confused with religious poetry, or inspirational poetry. Here we have a renowned modern poet from the late 20th Century, who embraced the Christian faith late in life, interacting with spiritual sources that crossed her path while on her journey of faith.

Often one only gets out of a poem what one brings to it, at other times the poem speaks for itself. Both are the case here. Levertov develops a personal dialogue with various texts, personages and paintings, such as Thomas Merton, Julian of Norwich, the Mass for St. Thomas Didymus, Caedmon from Bede's "History of the English Church," Velazquez's "The Servant Girl at Emmaus," Brother Lawrence's "Practice of the Presence of God," "Hail, space for the uncontained God" (from the Orthodox Christian Akathist hymn), as well as numerous New Testament passages.

Some of these poems presuppose at least a nodding acquaintance with the original source. Others, such as those dealing with Christ's suffering on the cross, will be more accessible, since most of our culture still retains an awareness of the life of Christ.

While I struggled through some of these works, knowing that if I took the time I could get much more out of them, others demanded to be read a second and third time immediately.

Such was the case with "Annunciation," which draws on the Gospel account of when the angel Gabriel announces to Mary that she is to bear the Son of God: "But we are told of meek obedience. No one mentions/ courage./ The engendering Spirit/did not enter her without consent./ God waited./ She was free/ to accept or to refuse, choice/ integral to humanness."

Many still believe that modern poetry and the Christian faith don't mix. Here is proof otherwise. Going through this volume may be like mining for gold for some, but believe me, it's worth the effort. If you like this volume, check out works by Scott Cairns, also found here at Amazon.

The need for simple groupings of poems into thematic clusters may be too convenient and decpetive of the complexities of the poems themselves. But with Levertov, as with others, there is such a compelling predeliction towards specific themes and subjects that to do so can be useful.Here we have her major religious poems in a separate volume, just as there has been a volume of her poems on nature and a deserved volume of her political poems (if one hasn't been published already). These poems do chart Levertov's progressive understanding and acceptance of Christianity, but at their best they do something else. Their focus is often on natural scenes which have a humbling effect. The level sought isn't always that of the often over-mystified religious ceremony, though there's plenty of mystery to the poems. In "The Avowel" this effect is achieved through analogy, the submissive posture of lying on one's back hearkening not only a religious submission but one which the speaker is reminded of by the natural world. "As swimmers dare/ to lie face to the sky/ and water bears them,/ as hawks rest upon air/ and air sustains them,/ so would I learn to attain/ freefall, and float/ into Creator Spirit's deep embrace,/ knowing no effort earns/ that all-surrounding grace."

The "free-falling" that occurs is much like that effect of flight in George Herbert's concrete poem "Easter Wings," which takes the shape of a bird. Here the use of a center alignment (which is hard for me to approximate) gives the impression of both the "deep embrace" and the fall, each line arrising not from a speakerly margin but from a need more like song. Again, the groupings of these poems together is a faulty judgement of Levertov's range, yet considering her uncanny ability to mask her concerns in a seemingly banal tone through everyday language we should be thankful that these small volumes have been available as studies into one of the best American poets of the last half century.

This set of books frighten me. Both are powerful and wonderful and deserve your immediate and lasting attention. The poems are not new, they are a themed selection. Interestingly enough placed in seperate but equal volumes.

The Stream and the Sapphire is a selection of poems that elucidate the growth of Denise as a Christian. And an exciting growth it is. My favorite of the moment are words I use as prayer: "How can I focus my flickering, perceive at the fountain's heart the sapphire I know is there?"

The Life Around Us is subtitled "selected poems on nature". In "A Reward", we live a harried day with the narrator and watch with her as "the heron, unseen for weeks, came flying widewinged toward me."

What is probably a marketing tool, a most wise one by the publisher, is what scares me about these two volumes. In theme, the power of God is told in lush detail in both volumes. The heron in the nature selection is the holy spirit of the religious selection, and in our natural state both can and will be the same. Those brief moments of recognition of something outside ourselves.

So with these two volumes to recommend, why should I be trepiditious? The marketing folks know us so well, and as poets we cannot overcome the marketing department. "Christians" are right winged slobs that grow fat and salute the flag and make fools of themselves on TV. They have absolutely no regard for nature because they are Republicans bound and determined to destroy the rainforest. Friends of the natural world cannot be interested in true spiritual life because they worship nature, and are Democrats, and would not consider a Christian a person. A nature person is good and upright and has never done wrong, and therefore has no need of the "crutch" of Christianity.

Crass? Yep. That's why I'm scared of these two books. Because it brings out the crass nature of our commercialized economy. Everything is cut and dry - a cookie cutter product determined and produced by a media that thrives on exacting stereotypes. I can hear the salesman now walking into the Christian bookstore pitching the blue book; and the same salesman waking into the New Age bookstore pitching the green book. I'm saddened and scared that it's come to this - even in poetry. It's been with us in every other aspect of life for so many years now that I guess it had to be inevitable.

Truth is, most Christians live in a more calm life than the wild-eyed frothing at the mouth pentacostal, or the bomb-throwing fanatic at an abortion clinic. It may be surprising to those who only read newspapers and watch tv to find out that many Christians believe God commanded them to take care of the planet. And vice-versa. Not all nature lovers worship the earth as God. Not all folks who are concerned with the environment are anti-Christian. Surprisingly to the media-fed public is the fact that there are many people who love the outdoors who feel abortion is just as wrong as shooting a bald eagle or a snowy songed owl.

Not all republicans are anti-abortion; not all democrats are pro-abortion; and not all those who could care less about politics have no opinion either way. There are many varieties of individuals; and within most of us, I believe strongly, there is a wonderful mixture of all the above. Let's face it, when confronted with a child molester who just raped his child, the strongest anti-abortion catholic would probably much rather kill the man as see him live, even if only for a brief moment. Why? Because we are human.

Which brings this around from a silly sermon back to the issue at hand - Denise Levertov celebrates our humanity. We see Thomas - in some circles known as the twin brother of Christ - struggling with his doubts. We hear in other places the voice of the poet struggling with questions and wandering doubts. In the nature series we hear the narrators of the poems finding a deep peace - if only momentary, a solace - a knowledge. Read together we find these powerful insights are all one insight into our inner selves.

And, slyly, in selecting the poems, Denise was able to confound the marketing department. From the nature series: "God is imaged as well or better in the white stillness resting everywhere, giving all things an hour of Sabbath." And from the religious series: "Dull stones again fulfill their glowing destinies, and emptiness is a cup, and holds the ocean." Why not combine these two selctions of poems into one fine volume? Marketing. Sad, but true. Recently, ND published Robert Duncan's selected - 170+ pages for $12.95. By seperating Denise's poems for a perceived dual market (and unfortunately the perception is probably true), the sales force is able to sell the two slender volumes for $8.95 apiece. A few extra bucks - and because of the targeted audience - a lot more sales!

My recommendation? Confound the marketing department. Buy both books! Praise both books. And praise Denise for giving us such interesting meditations on life. If you can, then read or re-read her past volumes and experience her growth in a more natural form; but if you are in a position of experiencing her poetry for the first time, these two small volumes will be an appetizer that will send you searching to experience the flavors of The Jacob's Ladder, Evenings In Babylon, Evening Train, and quite a few more

Like only the finest of art photography -- photography which truly transcends its function as document or record -- Randlett's images make you want to look, and look, and keep looking, in the same way as a fine drawing or painting. There are some pictures here which are all but abstracts, and bear comparison with the finest abstract work in other mediums. However, usually you know what the object is at which she pointed her camera, but you are never its prisoner, never find yourself asking "just where is that island?" Instead you find yourself dwelling on the new thing, the new world, she has made of that object -- whether a tree, or a bird, or light on the sea, or a cloud-blurred mountain -- the world to be explored right there on the paper, within the spaces and shapes there delineated or suggested. You don't say "what a beautiful place, let's go there"; instead you say, "what a beautiful world I am in, just sitting here poring over these shapes and shadows".

At times Randlett's work reminds me of certain Japanese or especially Chinese ink drawings of landscapes, of the kind that employs blurring and suggestion more than precise outlines; it has some of that same mysterious suggestiveness. But not all her images are of that kind; she can capture sharp lines and silhouettes as well. But even then she is creating a new place, not pointing to one somewhere else, on your travel map; and she's inviting you in -- here, right here, on this paper: come in and dwell.

Some of these images were included in her recent show at the Tacoma Art Museum. If that show is still open, I strongly recommend a visit. In any case, I recommend this book and the worlds in it. It opens the way to endless exploration and pleasure.

My husband and I stumbled upon Mary Randlett's photography exhibition at the Tacoma Art Museum. We were immediately awed by the beauty and power of her photography. Then I was stunned to see poems by Denise Levertov scattered among the photographs. I'd discovered and loved Denise's poetry a few years earlier. The powerful combination of these two women's visions brought me to tears in the middle of the exhibition. Mary's unique way of seeing and capturing light as it plays across the landscape is moving, beautiful, haunting. You will never regret purchasing this book.

My name is Liebe Coolidge and Sylvia was my house trained pig in Vt. in the 70's. I was a very close friend of Denise Levertov and we decided to do the book together. She knew Sylvia. The pastel drawings were done over a few year period . I would draw the stories of my life with Sylvia and all my other animals. Denise would come over and ask about a drawing and I would tell her the story. She would go home and reapper with a poem. That is how the book came to be. She really got to the heart of Sylvia. It was as if Sylvia was talking. I was very lucky to have known Den.
I have a new pig now. He has lived with me for 8 years and I have painted him quite a bit. One can get in touch with me at : liebegoat@gmail.com . I am thrilled you are all enjoying the book. Liebe

Pig Dreams is a marvelous book of poetry and watercolor. I would not consider it a young people's book in particular, and am surprised to see it being sold as such.As I heard the story, Denise Levertov's friend, Liebe Coolidge, a watercolor artist, actually had a pet pig, the Sylvia of the poems, and did some beautiful watercolors of life on her Vermont farm. Denise Levertov, on seeing the watercolors, was inspired to write the poems, taking the pig's point of view. But they are not cutsy. They are real poems. I teach an adult poetry writing class, and each term use Pig Dreams to inspire my students to "take another point of view" in their writing. It is always a big hit.

The title "Sands of the Well" may suggest that Ms. Levertov's labor was like eking out words but in them there are a collage from newspaper clippings, a love poem for former lovers and the time she's spent simply writing words.

In this collection of Denise Levertov's last poems (1923-1996) we have a fine music moving us with her through commitment and conscience to an act of faith. That faith is in the God she came to connect with during her last years living in Seattle. To know that God, you must read the book and the countless poems of honest and delicate expression bonding us with Nature and humanity. In poem after poem she moves us through and beyond our daily details to a deep awareness of the transparent wonder of being alive. In the eight sections of the book, she captures in intricate detail and clear voice the movement of her life at its close. Her opening poem "What Harbinger?" hints at her own awareness of death's approach; and the final poem "Primary Wonder" answers with a brave acceptance. These are poems as "last words," reminding us of the beauty of our days and the wonder of language to record them. Levertov is America's poet of engagement and wonder.

Published at author's age of 70, this collection of biographical vignettes feels to this reader like the happy work of a person who has lived fully, loved vigorously, and perceived every detail along the way. How fortunate to be able, in one's golden years, to look back with such wonder, sympathy, and good humor.

This short but powerful work absolutly enchanted this reader. The chapters are sometimes confessional, sometimes an homage to a person long gone, and always full of wonder and spirit.

She writes of interior settings, relationships, prophesies, family (a loving one), and cities (London during the blitz, for example). Her descriptions are never labored or complex, but details resonate in her simple yet expertly chosen words.

It is not so much that poet Denise Levertov has lived an extraordinary life (well, she did), but what makes this utterly magical book come alive is her ability to capture in prose her complex feelings about events and people of her childhood and early adulthood. As such, it validates the idea that we are all sensitive and deep. That is, she has a way of newly expressing feelings that we have all had but probably were never able to put into words.

Simply, I have never seen an autobiographical work that so powerfully expresses fervent sentiment, love, and emotion. Never shallow, always fresh. A remarkable work.

Excellent gift for your own mother.

Tesserae is a collection of short prose works by renound poet/activist Denise Levertov. Usually, I find the recorded childhood/family memories of someone else either to personal to them to be really relevant to me or to sticky-sweet with nostalgia to be palatable in a long-term sense. Tesserae navigates these obstacles with admirable poise. Rather than creating a picture of her family for me to glance at cusorily, Levertov creates a landscape in which I can wander and linger at my leisure. The short narratives are full of mystery, wonder, and a quiet humor that is all Levertov. The pieces about her Father's conversion from Orthodox Judiasm to Christianity and his subsequent expulsion from the family, her mother and the pillows, and the whole family's beach holiday stick especially in my mind. I remember just how the Russian winter wind felt when her father found the scrap of paper with the gospel of John on it by the river, the texture of those pillows when hugged to the chest, and exactly what it is to be a girl entering puberty struggling with your own burgeoning body and intellect on the blinding sand during a family vacation. Individually, the pieces are magical bits of prose that display the experiences of the different family members like tiny finely-crafted curio boxes, as a collection they speak about history and identity. They engage the reader in an emotional dialog about where "self" comes from, and how it goes from there. Though I like her poetry, I think this is Levertov's best work.

In a Dybbuk's Raincoat is a hardcover anthology of collected poetry by California lyricist and poetry teacher Bert Meyers (1928-1979). Most of the free-verse poems are brief; their eclectic diversity shines with polished, original flair and range in subject from gentle reflections on aging to a blunt summary of the good, the bad, and the ugly of Los Angeles. Some of the collected poems were previously published in literary reviews or journal entries; others were previously unpublished. A smattering of prose works round out this outstanding anthology of lifetime achievement. "By the Sea": Across that loud scroll of water / fishermen still sail out / to earn a living, / a boat leaves for Peru... // And always, a multitude / unpacks a paradise / of Sundays on the sand / to celebrate the passage of its blood.

This is an amaizing book! I have read many of her poems and books and this one is the best one yet. Her depth in writing is so clear and evident, and her portrail of how people feel is exceptional. She tends to really understand people and the human state of mind. If you like any of Sylvia Plath you will difinently love Denise Levertov. Read this book and I hope you enjoy...

One of the best contemporary poets travels from delight at the simple wonders of nature, through urban riches, confrontations with the dissolution of marriage and its consequences, including the twins loneliness and liberation, to the disaster that is war, especially US involvement in Viet Nam and its destructive consequences, and many points in between. Those who were attentive adults during the years encompassed here will appreciate how accurately Levertov renders and records the objective political history of the period, and recognize in themselves her anguished responses to it.

This (as with the several companion volumes of similar title) incorporates into one what were originally three separate volumes, including that I (with many) consider her strongest, "The Freeing of the Dust," in chronological order. In view of the usual quality of the poetry, and generosity of the poet, this is more than a bargain for the price; even more so at less-than-list. It is probably my favorite Denise Levertov collection, most consistently strong and confident, but there are so many "favorite" poems throughout her books that though one might begin here, it is only to begin . . . (As important for the period, if you can find it, is her 1973 volume of essays "The Poet in the World".)

The cover, and the printed pages, are in black-and-white -- perfect for reading in late quiet evening while there's snow on the ground. Or during quiet grey Winter afternoon with only the hushed noise of falling snow. Or in Spring or Summer amid noisy green nature.