Reviews for Coming into 80: Poems

The average rating for Coming into 80: Poems based on 2 reviews is 3.5 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2018-04-24 00:00:00 Kevin Waterman A Julie musing: I think I'm going to revert to my own rating system, because those five stars never suit my desire to be splitting hairs into infinity. My mind seems to demand a much finer, more precise aim than, "meh" or "superlative", which is what the 5 stars represent for me. Especially in poetry, the gradations are too fine. 7.5/10 stars A lovely little book of 36 poems that May Sarton wrote in her 80th year. This is also my first Sarton. (I had ordered a handful of her earlier work from the library and this one came first ... and knowing my library may be the only one I'll see!) It was a prescient present from the library system, for I enjoyed this very much, in the pre-dawn light, when I let Max the Dawn-Stalker (our cat) out. And I came upon Sarton letting her own cat in, and sitting down to write her poems: a nice symmetry. These poems are dedicated to Pierrot, my Himalayan cat, a bluepoint with blue-gray head, paws and tail, the rest of him an elegant cream color, his huge eyes sapphire blue. Between one and three every morning he woke me with imperious mews to be let in, so I had to get up, go down a steep flight of stairs, and unlock the heavy front door. By the time I got upstairs again I was wide awake and these poems made their appearances, a new kind of poem for me. They came of their own free will and I had only to accept radical change and use it as best I could. Sometimes they astonished me, they were so unlike what I had written before. I jotted down a few lines and went back to sleep. And I, on the other hand, ordered by Max's imperious mews to be let out, wake and make my way down a steep flight of stairs, and unlock the heavy back door; and by the time all this is done, I am wide awake, and I sit down in my study downstairs to read these poems. This is my favourite from this collection: (Try reading it in the pre-dawn light. It makes quite a different impact than in the broad light of day.) Coming into eighty I slow my ship down For a safe landing. It has been battered, One sail torn, the rudder Sometimes wobbly. We are hardly a glorious sight. It has been a long voyage Through time, travail and triumph. Eighty years Of learning what to be And how to become it. One day the ship will decompose and then what will become of me? Only a breath Gone into nothingness Alone Or a spirit of air and fire Set free? Who knows? Greet us at landfall The old ship and me, But we can't stay anchored. Soon we must sail On the last mysterious voyage Everybody takes Toward death. Without my ship there, Wish me well.

Review # 2 was written on 2014-05-28 00:00:00 Miranda Mcleod May Sarton offers her readers a view from 80 in this collection of poems. I loved the poems that focus on themes related to aging: the decay of the body, the loss of friends, the role of memory, the passing of time. She has honed her craft for decades, and she uses her skills to great affect. After suffering a stroke and having limited energy, Sarton writes poems that convey the essence of her experience. The style is minimalist, but her skill allows great insight with a handful of images and a few well-chosen words. My favorites: "Coming Into Eighty" for its image of a worn ship coming into port. "I Wanted Poems to Come" about the tension between the vibrancy of imagination and the limits of the aging body. "The O's of November" with its attention to the boundary between the bounties of harvest time and the sleep of winter. "Friendship and Illness" for its observations about the nature of long-term friendships. "The Teacher" for its meditations on the role of pain. "Getting Dressed" because it beautifully laments diminishing energy. "Friend of Enemy" for its complex attitude towards one's own aging body. "Wanting to Die" for its bold confession and sweet vulnerability. "The Tides" for its perspective on time and memory. Here is a blog post I wrote in response to this particular poem: "Bliss" for its celebration of life. "The Ender, The Beginner" for its mix of wisdom and humor. "Birthday Present" for it's zen-like quality. I give these poems 5/5, but there are some occasional poems and some poems about very specific relationships that are harder for me to connect with. But I love, love, love those listed and find them worth reading and rereading.