Summer Snow
A major collection of entirely new poems from the Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award-winning author of Time and Materials and The Apple Trees at OlemaA new volume of poetry from Robert Hass is always an event. In Summer Snow, his first collection of poems since 2010, Hass further affirms his position as one of our most highly regarded living poets. Hass’s trademark careful attention to the natural world, his subtle humor, and the delicate but wide-ranging eye he casts on the human experience are fully on display in his masterful collection. Touching on subjects including the poignancy of loss, the serene and resonant beauty of nature, and the mutability of desire, Hass exhibits his virtuosic abilities, expansive intellect, and tremendous readability in one of his most ambitious and formally brilliant collections to date.

Summer Snow Details

TitleSummer Snow
Author
ReleaseJan 7th, 2020
PublisherEcco
ISBN-139780062950048
Rating
GenrePoetry

Summer Snow Review

  • Ross
    January 1, 1970
    A book of entirely new poems by Haas, a former Poet Laureate of the United States (1995-97). The poems discuss such topics as the volatility and intrinsic beauty of nature, dealing with loss at various stages in life, and meaning of desire. The poems are intelligent, intricate and beautiful. We found this advance copy of this book (coming out in early 2020) at a little library in our neighborhood. I really enjoyed the majority of the poems and will read more by Haas. 3 1/2 stars!
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  • Niklas Pivic
    January 1, 1970
    Itō Jakuchū smeared a paste of egg yolkAnd white paint on the back of his scrollsAnd then crushed oyster shell to another pasteAnd added carmine for the rooster’s crestHe painted into the soft silk.Smuggled Prussian blues from Europe (There was a Tokugawa trade embargo)For the way light looked on plums.I’m not a vast lover of poetry.Naturally, that fact is not due to poetry, but to how I have found poetry; it’s all in my head, as with my inability to love fusion jazz, mud, and war.OK, fair Itō Jakuchū smeared a paste of egg yolkAnd white paint on the back of his scrollsAnd then crushed oyster shell to another pasteAnd added carmine for the rooster’s crestHe painted into the soft silk.Smuggled Prussian blues from Europe (There was a Tokugawa trade embargo)For the way light looked on plums.I’m not a vast lover of poetry.Naturally, that fact is not due to poetry, but to how I have found poetry; it’s all in my head, as with my inability to love fusion jazz, mud, and war.OK, fair enough; I do love some jazz.What I do have an issue with is when poets use hard words or obtuse references that don’t really pay off.On the other hand, I do like it when poets use words for perfect fit.I’ve not read anything that Hass has written previously, but the introduction to this book, which is a collection of poems as divided into several different parts, made me doubt that I would enjoy it; name- and place-dropping littered the initial poems, which gives off an iffy scent that signals “I am learned. I am good at what I do. See my excellence.”To myself, that is.Hass’s style changes dramatically from the poems that are about Afghanistan and the Soviet Union. Those longer, more in-depth ones, where Hass has shed the name-dropping, that’s lovely. For example:And if you read good books well, it will wake in youA desire to say what you mean.At least it did in me.The things that you read that matter to you,The things they call your influences,are the books That introduce you to yourself,and they will lead,Or ought to, to a patient persistent attemptTo say what you mean.”Another note reads: “You have to write blind to eventually see clearlyWhat your subject is.”A close, humid roomIn the middle of Tennessee in the middle of July.Outside you could not tell if the green humIn the old live oaks was generating the insect buzzOr the buzz was generating the green hummingIn the air that was indistinguishable,When you walked in it, from the soakedOdor of the summer grass.I was an outsiderTo what I took to be this transaction in heritage.It’s a calm, long gaze into a field of green, this is. If I forget the first fifth of the book, which I nearly do, I will be left with the memory of a poetry collection that is both potent and rises. At its worst, this book is a bit haughty to me, but then again, I don’t get fusion jazz.
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  • Claudia Skelton
    January 1, 1970
    A collection of new poems by a poet of many awards and a former U.S. poet laureate. The poems are intelligent and discuss nature, loss and desire. I particularly enjoyed the author's personal assessment of the meaning of poetry and the impact on his personal life. A dear friend loaned me a copy of this book and I am pleased.
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  • Keith Taylor
    January 1, 1970
    Again, loving another Hass book! I am just so happy this poet is among us. Here's a short review I wrote:https://www.nyjournalofbooks.com/book...
  • Nicholas
    January 1, 1970
    In my dreams, I am...
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