She is a compulsive poet first, a stylist second. Knox's annotated bibliography, Louise Bogan: A Reference Source 1990. Their love is an eager meaninglessness Too tense, or too lax. O, as with arm and hammer, Still it is good to strive To beat out the image whole, To echo the shout and stammer When full-gushed waters, alive, Strike on the fountain's bowl After the air of summer. As the strain of writing poetry increased, Bogan turned more and more to criticism and education. They have had children, households and husbands to tend. Reading here all of the fine commentary, I wish I could discuss this poem with my grandmother who was a young woman in the 1920s.
These affairs were to haunt Bogan for most of her life and became the preoccupation of her poetry which speaks eloquently of love, grief, mistrust and betrayal. Poets as diverse in talent and outlook as W. In 1964, she published The Journal of Jules Renard, co-translated by Elizabeth Roget. As like as not, when they take life over their door-sills They should let it go by. She grew up in various mill towns in the Northeast, moving often with her parents and brother. Burch, editor, The HyperTexts After the Persian I I do not wish to know The depths of your terrible jungle: From what nest your leopard leaps Or what sterile lianas are at once your serpents' disguise and home. Meanwhile, as before, men ranged freely.
Her subtle, restrained style was partially influenced by writers such as Rilke and Henry James, and partially by the English metaphysical poets such as George Herbert, John Donne, and Henry Vaughan, though she distanced herself. No more struggling not to be a square. Stand pinned to sight, while now, unbidden, The apple loosens, not at call, Falls to the field, and lies there hidden, Another and another fall And lie there hidden, in spite of all The diagram of whirling shade, The visible, that thinks to spin Forever webs that time has made Though momently time wears them thin And all at length are gathered in. Everything else is ambition, hysteria or hatred. How does she find that generative place among conflicting forces? They cannot think of so many crops to a field Or of clean wood cleft by an axe. The marriage ended within a couple of years. She died in New York City on February 4, 1970.
They use against themselves that benevolence To which no man is friend. Although her first book was published in 1923, she wrote throughout her life, with her last book published the year of her death in 1970. They may trust that their work will in time and through travail become increasingly perfect and whole, and enter into a full period of production, free at once of their former bitterness in subjection, and of their present rather tiresome gestures of romantic escape. They lived in laboratories, counting-houses, jungles: empire-building, money-getting, the classification of data, the tools of the arts and sciences, were still in their hands. The Alchemist I burned my life, that I may find A passion wholly of the mind, Thought divorced from eye and bone Ecstasy come to breath alone. New York: Oxford University Press, 1999.
Interest from feminist circles in the hidden lives of women writers has prompted new assessments of Bogan. But who really speaks it? Perhaps this very instant is your time. They hear in every whisper that speaks to them A shout and a cry. Cry, song, cry, And hear your crying lost. She published Dark Summer in 1929 and her third volume, The Sleeping Fury, in 1937. It is still an unpleasant truth that speaking out impatiently and aggressively undoubtedly hurts women more than men.
Within the month Black fruit breaks from the white flower. They wait, when they should turn to journeys, They stiffen, when they should bend. She supported herself by clerking in a bookshop and working in a public library, and she made a new home among Greenwich Village radicals Louise Bryant and John Reed and notable literati William Carlos Williams, Malcolm Cowley, Edmund Wilson, and Conrad Aiken. Woolf's chief exhortation is that woman break completely with the man-mirroring function that has been hers for so long, and in turn examine masculine concepts and reasoning. A widow's pension freed her to study piano in Vienna. The opening premise certainly courts irony: to declare that Women have no wilderness invites an outright refutation.
Her final and most complete collection, The Blue Estuaries: Poems 1923-1968 1968 , contains only 103 poems. While at Boston University, Bogan published in the Boston University Beacon. In it the poet makes a world in little, and finds peace, even though, under complete focused emotion, the evocation be far more bitter than reality, or far more lovely. Shortly after Bogan's older brother Charles died in combat, the marriage frayed. Her father was a mill worker. Encompassed in a single sentence, the four-stanza verse gradually diminishes from six lines per stanza to five, then four as it affirms the timeless grandeur of nature.
Woolf urges them, to solid work in literature, philosophy, history and the sciences, need not worry about hysterical lapses in the presentation of their findings, if they look critically at the hysteria implicit in Rousseau's passion for social reform, Shelley's poetry, Novalis' mysticism, Schopenhauer's philosophy and the terrific compensatory historical bias of Carlyle. While modernism in literature and the arts was gaining in momentum and shape, Bogan was quietly mastering metrics and defining her style. The rhetorical question that opens The Mark poses an anonymous seeker — anonymous, perhaps, as that abstraction, the universal man writ large — who is confronted by his shadow, that phenomenal replica of his proportions and motions. It is this quality which situates the poem wholly in the modern period that I will attempt to define below. She married Curt Alexander in 1916, but the marriage was not a happy one. She also translated poetry and prose and worked with younger writers William Maxwell, for example to help them distill beauty and truth from their writing. Again the statement is deliberately softened by a lyric intent.