Words in Air: The Complete Correspondence between Elizabeth Bishop and Robert Lowell Book

You've probably come across this harmless little hyperbole in Sunday book reviews - you know, the one that goes something like, 'Joe Blow is such a brilliant writer that I could cheerfully read his grocery lists.' Well, I've now read the grocery lists -- figuratively-speaking -- of Robert Lowell and Elizabeth Bishop, and let me tell you, I'm none too cheerful about it.

The one inescapable problem with a 'complete correspondence' such as Words in Air is that it's so damn…complete. It's all here: every scribbled postcard, every casual note, every trip to the store or loony bin (more of the latter than the former with these two, sadly). Yes, both writers can be witty and eloquent when the mood strikes but, for the most part, they sound like what they were: a couple of close friends just shooting the shit. So they chat about their work, their health, mutual acquaintances - all the stuff that we ordinary, non-Pulitzer-prize-winning lugs talk about in our garrulous, emoticon-riddled emails. And that's great - it really humanizes them, and you come away with the sense that Lowell and Bishop were basically modest, unpretentious souls huddled in the wreckage of elaborately fucked-up lives.

But for the love of God, a little discrimination, please, people! I don't need 800 pages of weather reports and advice on grant applications. The only conceivable audience for this hulking monster of a book are the three scholars (I'm estimating) currently working on tell-all biographies of the poets. Anyone with a merely borderline-obsessive interest in Bishop or Lowell is advised to stick with the selected letters (which I haven't read myself, but I understand they've been put together by nice, judicious editors who show some passing regard for the reader's convenience and sanity). Or better yet, read the poetry. After all, that's what counts, isn't it? The grocery lists will recede into the historical record, along with (one hopes) the mental breakdowns, alcoholism and ugly divorces. Let it go.

During one of my increasingly lengthy breaks from Words in Air, I picked up Bishop's collected poems and dipped in at random, hitting on a piece called "The Roosters". In the space of five minutes, it pretty much blew my mind and got me more excited than anything in the first 150 pages of the other book. That's when I knew it was time to drop the correspondence and drop it fast, like a bad date - with a pang of guilt, perhaps, but without regret.



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More and more I've come to think that the type of relationship enjoyed by these two writers represents an ideal dynamic in male-female interactions. The secret, unfortunately, seems to be: emotional closeness and physical distance. Unworkable, you say? But is it any more unworkable than the various alternatives? Those of you who've figured out a better arrangement can post your solutions below.