Collected Poems

By Edgar Bowers

Book Overview

Testifies to Edgar Bowers authentic eminence, in vital form, in accuracy of perception & sensation, in a vision at once original yet profoundly representative of the American imagination at its most... This description may be from another edition of this product.

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 0679766073
• ISBN13: 9780679766070
• Release Date: January 1999
• Publisher: Knopf
• Length: 168 Pages
• Weight: 0.90 lbs.
• Dimensions: 9.2" x 0.6" x 6.1"

Customer Reviews

Poems to read and reread.

I was first introduced to Bowers at UCLA in 1970. His early poetry was good, but its sometimes coldness slightly pushed me away. His poetry got better and better as he wrote more poems (not that he ever wrote many--thank goodness), and they have been indispensable to making my life imaginatively, intellectually and emotionally richer; I have worn out two books of his collected poetry. Like the previous reviewers said, he didn't care a bit about fame and his small number of poems will never bring him the audience he deserves. But for those who really like poetry that strikes the heart and the head and leaves you feeling like a better person after reading a few of his poems, then Bowers is your man. I'm sorry to hear of his passing. The great ones are going, Kenner, Guy Davenport and now Bowers. A quiet, decent professor for over thirty years--his poetry vitalizes, is essential. The town he loved, Santa Barbara, continues on, its beauty a bit shabbier for his loss.

One of the best poets of the latter half of the 20th century

The book is brilliant. The only reason it isn't well-known is because the author wasn't nearly as interested in cultivating celebrity as writing brilliant poems.

There are not enough stars to give

Five stars are way to few. I purchased the hard cover of this collection when it first appeared and have never stopped rereading and getting nourishment from these poems. From the early formal and spare poems to the later style demonstrated in the startling first poem of the book, there is no coasting or filler one feels that all has been pondered and judged and what remains still sings. Edgar Bowers passed away last february I believe, a great loss and yet what a gift this is.