Reading Li's memoir was a unique experience, or perhaps one so rare I can't remember the last time I had it. It challenged me to think not only about her as a writer and reader, but about myself as a writer and reader. I highlighted tons of passages, brief and long. I read the book slowly because I frequently needed to pause and evaluate Li's notions of self, writing, and reading, often all essentially the same thing, against what I believe or thought I believed.

Early on, Li notes that she does not like using first person. It is unavoidable in this type of work, but she uses "one" elsewhere, as in, "One hides something for two reasons: either one feels protective of it or one feels ashamed of it. And it is not always the case that the two possibilities can be separated." I found that it functioned much like second person ("you") where it assumes the reader's agreement. Having read the book, I can't think that was Li's intention, but it created an at times adversarial stance from which I judged her obviously personal claims. This isn't a critique, only an observation of the sort I don't make often. In a way, then, it's a compliment.

Because Li in part is writing about writing, I put it on a mental list of texts I'd love to assign in a creative writing workshop. Though my genre is poetry (and fiction after that), its insights apply to any genre. "To write," she says, "betrays one’s instinct to curl up and hide." Upon that I can easily agree.

I stumbled across May's work hunting around for spring-themed poems on poetryfoundation.org to use in my class and instantly fell in love. I ordered Hum and have been leisurely enjoying it, sometimes reading a poem or two at a time, sometimes a chunk of poems. There isn't a poem in this book I don't like or one without a lovely, fresh image.

What drew me to May's work when I first encountered it was a complex love for Detroit, for the mechanical and the urban (that term has been ruined as code for black). These become like flowers in a Wordsworth poem, as natural. There's also something terribly tender throughout the book, and kind. There's sadness or fear, but no real despair (as in, these poems will never depress you or let you wallow in your own misery). Many last lines stunned me, but not in a way that slams the door shut on the poem.

Hum is also formally beautiful; there are literal forms, like the sestina, but everywhere it's evident May has a great eye for the line and for sound. That seems an obvious quality in poetry, but I'm surprised how often I'm disappointed by the craft of poems by contemporary poets. Often they're inert in their formality; that's never the case here.

If you don't read contemporary poetry, this book would be a great place to start.

A lucid exploration of poetry and poets that would be useful for beginners, teachers, and veteran poets. If you're interested in Japanese poetry, you'll also be in luck as the author has done some translation work in that area, and at least two chapters make use of her knowledge. Overall, she uses poems and poets from a variety of countries and eras to illustrate her points, and she's never confusing. These essays are illuminating and inspiring. The next time I teach poetry (crossing fingers), I'll be sure to incorporate material from this book.

"Poetry and the Mind of Concentration"

As far as I can recall, this is my first experience reading Jane Hirshfield's prose, and she's clearly going to be another poet whose writing on poetry is my favorite. Her prose is lyrical and lucid, and what she has to say, in this first essay, anyway, brings clarity to the way poetry works, whether you're new to poetry or experienced. She has an original and helpful way of explaining difficult concepts and the process of how we engage with poems. She uses a variety of poets' works as examples, some of which I was familiar with, some not, but mostly by "name poets" I recognized and have read.

Looking forward to the rest and wishing I were teaching a workshop so I could teach with this book!

I can't say enough about Hass's prose and his approach to poetry: this series of columns from his laureateship is a wonderful, enlightening read for poets, teachers of poetry, and those with little knowledge or experience with poetry.