Post Your Opinion
Brief Reviews-Poetry3
by Barbara Carey

IT`S STRANGE TO think that a poet can be hailed as one of the finest of her generation, and then be all but forgotten within a few decades of her death. Such was the fate of Anne Wilkinson, who died in 1961 at the age of 50; in the last 10 years of her life she published a memoir, a children`s book, and two volumes of poetry, which were praised by such notables as A. J. M. Smith and Desmond Pacey The Poetry of Anne Wilkinson and a Prose Memoir (Exile Editions, 212 pages, $19.95 paper), the republication of a volume that first appeared in 1968 under Smith`s editorship, signals a revival of interest in her work. For me, Wilkinson`s poetry is a welcome discovery; less so her memoir, "Four Corners of My World," though its evocation of her upbringing in an affluent Southern Ontario family is of biographical interest. "Touch everything available / To consciousness," Wilkinson wrote in "Letter to My Children: Postscript" Her intense identification with the natural world gave rise to a poetry that is deeply sensuous, both in its sound and its imagery. Many poems playfully echo nursery rhymes or take sly delight in punning, sometimes for grim purposes - much of her later work is preoccupied with death and loss. Inevitably, some of The Poetry of Anne Wilkinson seems dated, but there`s a fierce hereness that occasionally blazes through, as in "Poem in three par&`: The stone in my hand IS my hand And stamped with tracings of A once greenblooded frond, Is here, is gone, will come, Was fire, and green, and water, Will be wind.

Home First Novel Award Past Winners Subscription Back Issues Timescroll Advertizing Rates
Amazon.ca/Books in Canada Bestsellers List Books in Issue Books in Department About Us