Southern Bookman

Farewell Roger Angell, the New Yorker's iron horse and baseball's Virgil

Roger Angell, the revered baseball writer, stands among the legendary New Yorker stalwarts who defined the magazine from its first frivolous days in the 1920s through its rise as a paragon of serious journalism.

Angell's life intersected with that of the magazine, a cultural and intellectual beacon founded by Harold Ross as a humor magazine to chronicle the Jazz Age.

One of Ross's first hires was Angell's mother, Katharine Sergeant Angell White. As literary editor, she shaped Ross' vision of a breezy, sophisticated magazine for a new generation leaving rural America for the bright city lights.

Divorcing Angell's father, the attorney Ernest Angell, she fell in love with another New Yorker pioneer, E.B. White, who also set an urbane tone for the early magazine, with his "Talk of the Town" essays and humorous pieces. He collaborated with James Thurber in giving direction to the magazine, piloted by the exacting standards of the Ross, the legendarily uncouth editorial genius.

Angell, who died at age 101 Friday at his New York City apartment, wrote his first New Yorker piece in 1944 after serving in World War II.

At the start of his career, Ross and his successor, William Shawn, published John Hershey's account of the Hiroshima nuclear bombing, which took up an entire issue and established the New Yorker as the leading American magazine.

After a period editing the now vanished Holiday magazine, Angell followed his mother and stepfather as a major influence over the New Yorker's editorial mix.

Working in his mother's office, Angell guided an American short story renaissance, editing the first publications of Ann Beattie, Donald Bartheleme and Bobbie Ann Mason. He also edited midcareer stories of John Updike and John Cheever.

Along with his lauded baseball sagas for the magazine, suggested by Shawn, Angell mirrored his stepfather in composing Talk of the Town pieces. He also published his own short stories, and was known for writing the magazine's annual New Year's verse retrospective of the year before. 

While others fulsomely praised Angell's baseball writing, I liked best his memoir "Old Man," which looked back on pre-World War II New York City, recalling a magical time before Rockefeller Center’s rise.

Angell's career touched every era of the New Yorker.  He witnessed and chronicled enormous changes in American society and culture.

Like other literary authors, he found baseball the key to American life, at times overloading his metaphorical flights. 

Honored by the Hall of Fame late in his career, he idealized the game as it lost ground to football and basketball. In his work, baseball's glow never dimmed.
 

 

AJC political reporter Greg Bluestein gives inside story of Georgia's Democratic wave in 2020

With another Georgia election in full swing, Greg Bluestein's "Flipped: How Georgia Turned Purple and Broke the Monopoly on Republican Power" ends like a TV series cliffhanger.

As state voters head to the polls for the primary Tuesday and another general election in November, Georgia Democrats hope to repeat on a state level their stunning 2020 wins for national offices.

Bluestein's "Flipped" tells the often amusing inside story of how Joe Biden won Georgia's presidential election over incumbent Donald Trump, followed soon after by U.S. Senate upset wins by Democrats Jon Ossoff and Raphael Warnock over GOP incumbents David Perdue and Kelly Loeffler.

Along with nuts-and-bolts reporting, Bluestein colorfully sets the scenes of campaign events, giving a vivid picture of Georgia places inside and outside metro Atlanta.

Upholding the AJC's legacy of Ralph McGill, Jack Nelson, Gene Patterson, Cynthia Tucker, Jim Wooten, Bill Shipp, Harold Martin, Steve Oney and others, Bluestein covers Georgia politics like the dew, to echo the old Atlanta Journal motto. In "Flipped," Bluestein draws upon deep background notebook material outside of his robust daily newspaper coverage of the 2020 campaigns.

With the current election bringing back Bluestein cast members Brian Kemp, David Perdue, Stacey Abrams, Brad Raffensperger and Raphael Warnock, Bluestein's detailed account seems like a prequel that might require an update only two years later.

Continuing his indefatigable reporting in the AJC about the current campaign, Bluestein will have ample information to write a sequel or several new chapters to his fast-paced book. Democrats hope that they remain the triumphant heroes rather than quickly fading.

Kemp plays a leading role in "Flipped," heroically bucking Trump by naming Loeffler to replace the late Johnny Isakson as U.S. senator rather than Trump's preferred candidate, Doug Collins, and resisting Trump's intense pressure to intervene in Biden's victory in Georgia.

Bluestein also gives a chilling account of Secretary of State Brad Raffensperger's telephone showdown with Trump in which Raffensperger stood firm against the president's threats in beseeching him to overturn Biden's win. Raffensperger's refusal of Trump is a true profile in courage.

While Kemp and Raffensperger suffered intense vilification from Trump and his supporters, as recounted by Bluestein, both men rebounded from near political death. Kemp appears headed to victory over Trump's chosen candidate Perdue without a runoff, while Raffensperger is favored to narrowly defeat Trump candidate Jody Hice.

Along with Perdue, whose dismal Senate campaign against Ossoff was repeated in his lackluster race against Kemp, Warnock is another Bluestein subject returning for the 2022 election.  Bluestein praises Warnock's 2020 ad campaign and political organization in beating the often clueless Loeffler.

In seeking to head off Trump-backed Republican front-runner Herschel Walker, Warnock is returning to his 2020 strategy of early TV ads emphasizing his warm, compassionate and family-oriented personality. With Walker showing substantial strength, Warnock must also revive the Democrats' organizational depth.

While Trump's false claims of a rigged presidential election in Georgia are blamed for dampening Republican turnout for the Senate runoff elections, Bluestein establishes that Ossoff and Warnock's networking efforts to bring Democratic voters to the polls were decisive.

In contrast to previous runoff elections in which Democratic turnout plummeted, especially among black voters, the 2020 Democratic runoff turnout exceeded that of presidential elections.

Bluestein gives a blueprint for political strategists to win Georgia elections. Democratic gubernatorial candidate Stacey Abrams and the Democratic ticket need that same organizational power to regain control of the statehouse.

The Democratic political turnover that Bluestein analyzes had thin roots, with Republicans regaining control of the state House and Senate, and passing restrictive voting legislation that brought widespread national opposition.

Kemp’s support of the harsh voting law and other extreme conservative legislation restored his popularity among Georgia voters. With Republicans united behind him, he appears formidable in his re-election bid against Abrams, whom he defeated in 2018 without a runoff.

To truly turn Georgia purple, the Democratic Party must regain control of state government.

 

 

 

Lucasta Miller shines fresh light on Keats' life, letters and poetry

John Keats is gaining on Shakespeare and Dickens as the most written about English authors.

Critic Lucasta Miller's "Keats: A Brief Life in Nine Poems and One Epitaph" follows Anahid Nersessian's "Keats Odes: A Lover's Discourse" and Jonathan Bate's "Bright Star, Green Light: The Beautiful Works and Damned Lives of John Keats and F. Scott Fitzgerald" in the burgeoning Keats boom.

The least known Romantic poet when he died in 1821 at age 25, Keats is now considered the era’s greatest poet and thought by many second only to Shakespeare, based on a relatively small collection of poems.

Combining biography, critical analysis and well-placed personal reminisces, Miller's book gives a comprehensive guide to Keats' life and some of his best-known poems. It would benefit the general reader or student seeking a balanced introduction to Keats' work.

Miller's fresh biographical information and incisive criticism will also entice longtime Keats followers.

The book's cover presents Joseph Severn's idealized portrait of Keats. Breaking with the Victorian conception of Keats that has lingered through the years, Miller presents him as an earthy, politically radical, economically insecure young rake.

Ranging from lesser known poems like "Isabella or, The Pot of Basil," "La Belle Dame sans Merci. A Ballad," and "The Eve of St. Agnes" to the frequently lauded "On First Looking into Chapman's Homer,"  "Ode to a Nightingale," "Ode on a Grecian Urn," "To Autumn" and "Bright star!," Miller connects periods of Keats' life to the poems' compositions. Each chapter begins with one of the poems.

Miller examines how Keats' celebrated letters make him one of the most perceptive observers of his era's politics, social customs and culture. Keats in his letters comes forth as a first-rate philosopher and literary theorist, discussing concepts such as "negative capability," "the vale of soul making" and truth and beauty.

In her perceptive analysis of "Ode to a Nightingale," perhaps Keats' most representative poem, Miller gives a cogent explanation of Keats' idea of "negative capability" and how it infuses the poem.

She's less successful in explicating the famous and controversial "beauty is truth, truth beauty" statement that closes "Ode on a Grecian Urn."

Miller gives reliable, orthodox readings of Keats' poems, contrasting with Nersessian's idiosyncratic views.

Revisiting familiar territory, Miller offers fresh interpretations of Keats life, presenting a more compelling account than Bate, who appeared more engaged by Fitzgerald.

Keats' friendships and family and love relationships unfold with immediacy in Miller’s recreations of events in Keats’ brief but dramatic life.

Displaying the thoroughness of her research, Miller reveals the intriguing possibility that Keats' father, killed in a horse riding accident, might have been murdered.

In recounting Keats' relationships with women, Miller discloses that he likely contracted syphilis from frequenting prostitutes. She also presents a thorough account of Keats' apparently unconsummated affair with the mysterious Isabella Jones, agreeing with Bate’s assertion that she might have been a stage actress.

Miller also hints that Keats and Fanny Brawne probably reached a more physical relationship than previously disclosed.

Keats' life continues to beguile new generations. As Miller mentions, Shakespeare had written none of his famous works at the age Keats died. Yet Keats' poetic achievement contrasts with much mawkish, amateurish work.

In a brilliant chapter, Miller explores the most striking example of that conflict, the gap between the introduction to "Endymion" with its famous line "A thing of beauty is a joy forever" and the failure of the romantic epic itself.

The poem was brutally condemned by conservative critics, leading to the myth that the vilification crushed Keats' spirit.

From spring to the late summer of 1820, Keats produced his great odes, with which he made his claim to immortality. At the same time, he was writing the horrible verse drama "Otho the Great" and other lesser work.

After finishing the masterpiece "To Autumn" in September 1820, Keats wrote no more poems, although he had 17 more months to live, succumbing to tuberculosis. His abrupt silence after reaching such youthful heights prefigured Rimbaud’s.

Severn traveled with Keats to Rome, where he died in a room overlooking the Spanish Steps after several months of suffering. Keats and his friends hoped that he could recover his health in Italy's warmer climate, but the disease was too far advanced.

Along with new details on Severn's long-exalted care for Keats, Miller devotes attention to Fanny Brawne's mother, who took Keats into her home and cared for him until he left for Italy. Mrs. Brawne deserves an honored place in the Keats gallery of heroes.

Miller tells of visiting places in London where Keats lived and walked. She also reminisces about traveling to his grave in Rome, giving an insightful examination of the misguided epitaph that Keats' friends placed upon his gravestone, replicating the myth of Keats as the delicate young poet destroyed by pernicious critics.

The epitaph ends with the simple message that Keats wanted to be placed there, "Here lies one whose name was writ in water."

That's one of the many mysteries of Keats' life that Miller illuminates. Even longtime Keats lovers who've made the same pilgrimages and know intimately his poems and biography will discover new pathways.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Farewell Larry Woiwode, an American literary master

Larry Woiwode's saintly dedication to writing made him a hero to fellow authors and a small following of readers.

The author's acclaimed multigenerational novel "Beyond the Bedroom Wall" drew national acclaim and wide readership.

Much delayed because of his writing struggles, the 600-age work triggered an emotional breakdown and nearly ruined his marriage. Washington Post critic Jonathan Yardley cited the book as one of the 20th century's greatest novels.

After that success, Woiwode wrote additional novels, short stories, essays, biographies and poetry, and taught the writing craft at a number of universities. He was also named North Dakota's poet laureate.

Outside of a dedicated readership, he never again achieved national recognition, more and more engaging in a career as a "regional writer."

Woiwode died April 28 at age 80 at a hospital in Bismarck, N.D., after a short illness, according to obituaries in the New York Times, Washington Post and other publications.

Like James Salter and Richard Yates, Woiwode was known as one of the high priests of fiction whose critical appreciation didn't result in sustained wide readership.

A North Dakota native and graduate of the University of Illinois, Woiwode began his literary career in New York City, where he was one of the writers tutored by New Yorker literary editor William Maxwell, also a native of the Midwest. Like Maxwell, Woiwode was haunted by the early death of his mother.

Maxwell published many of Woiwode's early stories, and often brought sandwiches to the near-starving writer. They often ate lunch together in a park, discussing writing.

After a decade in New York, Woiwode moved with his wife and young family to a farm in rural North Dakota, where Woiwode followed dual careers as a writer and farmer. His wife, Caroline, who survives him, left with their young son for a while as he battled to complete "Beyond the Bedroom Wall." The New York Times obituary tells of Woiwode's harrowing farm experiences, including near fatal accidents involving his children and brutal weather.

Raised Roman Catholic, Woiwode and his wife later converted to a conservative faction of the Presbyterian Church. Woiwode was one of the few late 20th century American writers for whom religion was a central theme. Catholic writers Walker Percy and Flannery O'Connor come to mind; perhaps Woiwode's Catholic upbringing influenced his religious outlook.

Woiwode's career traces several dominant themes of American literature: the rural vs. urban mileus, the conflict between the American West and the Northeastern literary establishment, and the regional sense of place given universal significance.  

Tracing influences of Willa Cather, O'Connor, William Faulkner, Maxwell, Ernest Hemingway, Mark Twain, Raymond Carver, Robert Frost and other writers, Woiwode was an original writer whose "Beyond the Bedroom Wall" will remain a classic.

 

 

The Atlantic to expand book coverage, striking a blow for reading

The Atlantic will expand its book coverage, citing its heritage as a major force in American intellectual culture.

"Expect more book reviews and essays — plus provocative arguments, reported stories, profiles, original fiction and poetry, and, of course, recommendations for your every reading need," said Jane Yong Kim, the venerable publication's literary editor, in announcing the expansion.

Founded in 1857 in Boston amid the country's turmoil that led to the Civil War, the Atlantic Monthly published many of the landmark pieces of American literature.

With founders like Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow William Dean Howells and James Russell Lowell, it set the abolitionist agenda that led to the Union victory and the end of slavery.

In its early years, it published landmark work by Harriet Beecher Stowe, Mark Twain, Howells, John Greenleaf Whittier and Julia Ward Howell. It later published work by a galaxy of American writers through the 20th century and first decades of the 21st.

The publication galvanized the civil rights movement by publishing Martin Luther King Jr.'s "Letter from Birmingham Jail."

Emerging from years struggling to survive, the Atlantic is one of America's traditional media companies enjoying a renaissance in the online publishing world.

After Apple founder Steve Jobs' widow Laurene Powell Jobs bought the company through her Emerson Collective, the company gained profitability from a boost in Web site subscriptions. Under editor Jeffrey Goldberg, the publication has hired a vibrant lineup of writers and regained prevalence in political and cultural debates.

As general book readership declines and publishing industry consolidation increases, the Atlantic is seeking to draw from a shrinking audience of book readers. Many Atlantic subscribers likely also read Harpers, the New Yorker, The New York Times Book Review, the New York Review of Books, the Times Literary Supplement and the London Review of Books. 

While many of those readers are members of an aging elite, the Atlantic's younger writers appeal to a rising generation who seem returning to books in some degree. Younger novelists, mainly women, and non-fiction writers keep publishing a strong offering of books.

Along with books appealing to urban liberals, a Fox News-bred publishing industry churns out books condemned as factually spurious.

The decline of daily newspapers has brought a decline in book coverage. The Los Angeles Times and Washington Post still cover books in depth, with strong reviews, and journals like the Los Angeles Review of Books have proliferated online.

After a move from literary Boston to Washington, D.C., in 2005, the Atlantic retrenched. Cutting back to 10 issues a year, it changed its name from the Atlantic Monthly to the Atlantic. 

Focusing more on politics and social issues, it also stopped publishing fiction and poetry, leaving the New Yorker and Harper's as the sole mass-audience journals offering short stories and poems. The rise of university literary magazines filled the void as creative writing programs proliferated.

The Atlantic's return to publishing fiction, essays and poetry is welcome news for a rising generation of young writers and the readers they hope to reach. As in the past, the Atlantic aims to set the standard for American literature.

 

A springtime quartet of books

Gearing up for knee replacement surgery, I'm juggling several books, along with the usual newspapers and magazines.

For inventive titles, my stack includes ace AJC reporter Greg Bluestein's "Flipped: How Georgia Turned Purple and Broke the Monopoly on Republican Power" and "Crashed: How a Decade of Financial Crises Changed the World."

Flipped and crashed: that's how the world feels these days.

Watching Democratic campaign ads on TV, I fear Georgia's purple tinge will quickly wash off.

And as inflation rises, climate change advances and Putin pummels Ukraine, Tooze might need to write a sequel to "Crashed."

Actually, he has, "Shutdown: How Covid Shook the World's Economy." God only knows what economic disaster he'll uncover next, if we're still here to read about it.

To escape my jitters, I put those books down to escape into the 19th century.

Lucasta Miller's "Keats: A Brief Life in Nine Poems and One Epitaph" gives perceptive critical analyses of Keats' best-loved poetry along with fresh revelations about his life.

Miller's a steadfast guide to Keats' tragic life, and the book provides an excellent mini-anthology of his highest achievements.

Although I thought I was through with Civil War literature and biographies of Robert E. Lee, I couldn't resist Allen Guelzo's  simply titled "Robert E. Lee: A Life."

Guelzo, who agrees with the recent assessment that Lee was a traitor, writes with elan about how the Confederate hero was shaped by Virginia's upper-class plantation culture, family connections and his need to overcome the downfall of his father, Revolutionary War hero "Light Horse Harry" Lee.

Miller and Guelzo's books make clear that the 19th century worlds of Keats and Lee aren't so distant after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yankees, Mets bring back great days of New York baseball

I'm a Braves fans, but I have to confess that I find baseball more exciting when the New York teams are good.

The Mets and the Yankees this year are bringing back the 1950s Big Apple magic, when the Brooklyn Dodgers, New York Giants and Yankees dominated the game.

With the best records in baseball, the Queens Amazins' and the Bronx Bombers are hurtling toward a subway World Series, which would boost baseball's declining profile in the national sports landscape.

While I've cooled on the Yankees over the years, I was a big Yankees fan in my childhood. When they were owned by CBS, the lordly Yankees appeared every Sunday on TV. I venerated Lou Gehrig, reading countless times a biography of him checked out from my school library.

Along with the then San Francisco Giants' Willie Mays, Yankees great Mickey Mantle was my favorite player. I read Mickey Mantle's probably ghost-written book on courage and sportsmanship until the cover came off, and breathlessly followed Roger Maris' and Mantle's 1961 quest to break Babe Ruth's home run record.

Books about Joe DiMaggio's 56-game hitting streak and the 1927 Yankees of Ruth and Gehrig were favorites when I found them at the bookmobile, that air-conditioned respite from Baton Rouge's summer heat.

My father kindled my love for the Yankees by bringing me team memorabilia from his business trips to New York City.

Over the years, I've lost the Yankees Stadium  program that I religiously perused during my childhood.  

But I still cherish miniature Louisville Slugger bats signed by Maris and Mantle, and a baseball autographed by the team. I always receive a jolt of pleasure finding Yogi Berra's signature: Larry Berra.

I turned against the Yankees when they moved from old Yankees Stadium to their new ostentatious palace. But a Yankees-Mets World Series would be thrilling, if the Braves don't make it back to the championship.

 

 

 

Admired film critic Joe Morgenstern says farewell to Wall Street Journal column

I was out of town last Friday, and so didn't engage in my weekly treat of reading Joe Morgenstern's movie review in The Wall Street Journal.

Readers' letters praising Morgenstern on the WSJ editorial page Tuesday gave the sad news that I'd missed the 89-year-old Morgenstern's farewell column. Morgenstern said goodbye to his loyal readers just before his 27th anniversary at the WSJ.

Morgenstern is the last of a generation of film critics who ushered in the New Hollywood revolution, acclaiming movies like "The Graduate," "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf," "Easy Rider" and "Bonnie and Clyde." Later came "The Godfather," "Chinatown," "The Deer Hunter" and other classics.

Along with Pauline Kael, Andrew Sarris and Manny Farber, Morgenstern launched a parallel revolution in film criticism. Their strong opinions and incisive writing drew acolytes - and detractors - rivaling the following of the auteurs they covered.

Writing for Newsweek, Morgenstern at first panned "Bonnie and Clyde," which appeared like a flaming comet in 1967.

In a quick reappraisal, Morgenstern hailed director Arthur Penn's revolutionary crime saga starring Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway. Advertising for "Bonnie and Clyde" cited Morgenstern's change of heart, contributing to the violent, challenging cinematic experience becoming a box office and Academy Award sensation.

In his farewell column - which I found behind the WSJ paywall - Morgenstern cited changes in the movie industry in which escapist fare for adolescent boys has come to dominate over serious artistic productions. 

While Morgenstern loves all films, even vehicles for comic book superheroes - his deepest passion is for increasingly rare, artistically ambitious work.

The genial, tolerant Morgenstern said he understands the younger generation's preference for streaming rather than going to the theater. As he pointed out, home screens are no longer so small, and watchers at home can control the viewing experience. He expressed his faith that serious artists will keep making aesthetically significant films.

Morgenstern was one of the Wall Street Journal writers who make the newspaper's weekend editions a joy to read.

The WSJ recently brought in former New York Times drama critic Charles Isherwood to replace the late Terry Teachout. While I feel the loss of Teachout's reviews, I welcome the return of Isherwood to the New York cultural landscape.

I'll miss Joe, whose column was like a weekly meeting with a friend at a coffee shop to discuss the latest interesting film.

If I may make a suggestion, former N+1 and current Baffler film critic A.S. Hamrah, author of the collection "The Earth Dies Streaming," is an exciting voice who shares Morgenstern's passion for movies. Hamrah's work deserves the broad readership that the WSJ would provide.

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Reading old issues of Partisan Review brings back long vanished literary world

Spending a pleasant morning at the University of Georgia Library over the weekend, I found bound copies of the Partisan Review.

To celebrate my 71st birthday, I perused issues from the spring of 1951, when New York City had begun ascending to new heights as the world's cultural center.

Founded as a Marxist/anti-Stalinist journal by Philip Rahv and William Phillips, the Partisan Review transformed itself into the forum for an influential generation of New York City writers.

Flipping through the brittle, yellowing pages, with ads for defunct bookstores and long-forgotten books, I joyously encountered work by Elizabeth Hardwick, Elizabeth Bishop, Delmore Schwartz, Randall Jarrell, Eleanor Clark, Diana Trilling and Lionel Trilling, all at the start of their careers. Missing was Mary McCarthy, once Rahv's lover, but I'm sure she was present somewhere in the volume.

While I found several of Bishop's poems, Schwartz was represented by critical essays. I was surprised to find poems by writers best known for non-fiction or as novelists. Poetry must have been a popular pursuit at the time.

One of Jarrell's pieces was a review of books by then young poets Richard Wilbur and Robert Lowell, along with an analysis of a new volume of "Patterson" by poetry elder statesman William Carlos Williams. Several other critical essays illustrate Jarrell's mastery of the English language.

I was delighted to find a review by W.H. Auden of a collection of Keats' letters edited by Lionel Trilling. The piece shows Auden's wit and insight as a critic.

Reading the old copies made me wish that someone would revive the Partisan Review. Its blend of left-wing politics and high cultural outlook would counter the New Criterion, with its right-wing paranoia, convervative tub-thumping and incisive criticism.

The Partisan Review essays, poems and stories I read were published when I was an infant. As an adult, I came to revere the Partisan Review writers, many of whom later often published pieces in The New York Review of Books, founded in 1963 during the New York City newspaper strike. 

Encountering the not-yet-famous writers at the dawn of their careers gave me a strange sense of dislocation, as if I'd somehow become part of their generation. The long dead New York intellectuals came alive through their words.

 

 

 

 

Poetry flowers during National Poetry Month

Another National Poetry Month is almost gone.

In April, publishers release new poetry books and publications heighten their attention to the genre all but ignored the rest of the year.

The New York Times Sunday Book Review recently devoted an entire issue to "poesy." The New York Times Sunday magazine now publishes a poem each week.

Washington Post book critic Michael Dirda Thursday proclaimed his love of poetry in lavishly praising new critical studies of the art by Guggenheim Foundation President and noted poet/critic Edward Hirsch and Johns Hopkins professor and formalist poet Brad Leithauser.

Both have been longtime leaders of the nation's poetry establishment. Hirsch in several books and a term as the nation's poet laureate has striven to raise poetry's popularity. Leithauser has spearheaded efforts to restore the use of traditional meter and form after years of "free verse" dominance.

Hirsch's "The Heart of American Poetry" is the latest entry in an increasingly prevalent format he pioneered: offering a selection of poems accompanied by brief explanations of each of them.

Leithauser's "Rhyme's Rooms: The Architecture of Poetry" joins a teeming collection of books on poetic technique. The title and subject echo the late John Hollander's small classic "Rhyme's Reasons."

Dirda cites Hirsch's inclusion of outsider works like Robert Johnson's song "Crossroads Blues (Take 2)" along with a variety of poems from across the American canon.

He commends Leithauser for unlocking poetic techniques for the general reader.

While I'm skeptical of the triumphalism of National Poetry Month, I'm marking the occasion with the long-awaited arrival of British writer Lucasta Miller's "Keats a Brief Life in Nine Poems and One Epitaph." 

Has I yearned to read the book when it was first published in Great Britain, and waited long months for its American appearance. At last, April brought the book's arrival, and I'm happily reading it each night.

After years of receding from mainstream literary culture, poetry returned to prominence after Sept. 11, 2001. Grieving Americans after the attack on the World Trade Center found solace in poems like W.H. Auden's "Sept. 1, 1939."  Readers are also turning to poetry after the Russian invasion of Ukraine, especially to work by Ukrainian writers.

Poetry lives whenever deeper human emotions must receive expression.