by Nicole Yurcaba
At a certain point in a poet’s career, their publisher deems it necessary to release a “New and Selected Poems” collection. These types of collections typically include works from the poet’s career and span a few decades. Recently, Knopf released Jane Hirshfield’s The Asking: New and Selected Poems, and while the majority of the poems offer readers a respite in nature, this collection is not the most impressive compilation, and only four poems truly stand out in the book’s 343 pages.
“Solstice” appears in a section titled “New Poems (2023), and it is, by far, one of the book’s strongest poems. It opens cleanly and bluntly: “The Earth today tilts one way, then another.” The solstice’s magic and mystery unfold, and images of fireflies create a peaceful scene. The speaker offers their own philosophical wisdoms, which are quite notable, and similarly to a firefly’s light, brief. The most profound of these wisdoms centers the poem: “Take nothing for granted, you who were also opulent, a strung cosmos.” At this point, the poem immerses readers in nature’s sonic splendor: “Birds sing, frogs sing, their sufficient unto.” Clinching the poem is a line of which the old Transcendentalist sages, even in their graves, can be envious: “and one’s gain is not the other lessened.” “Solstice” is such a strong poem that it gives readers the expectation that The Asking holds more equally promising poems, which, unfortunately, it does not.
If readers flip a few pages past “Solstice,” they find themselves at the section “Alaya (1971-1982). This section offers readers one memorable poem–”And/Yes in the Fields You.” Sleek and sexy, “And/Yes in the Fields You” is a passionate, confessional poem. The staccato rhythm, created by each line’s brevity as well as beautiful alliteration, help create the passionate tone. For example, the speaker commands that their object of desire “must wind for me / ropes of wheatstalk / weave me walls / out of husked corn ears.” “Weave me walls” is a gorgeous line to recite aloud because of the playful alliteration which establishes a linguistic ebb and flow that continues through the poem. Again, the speaker utilizes natural imagery effectively, and the poem begs for a second, even a third, reading.
“In a Net of Blue and Gold” appears in the section of excerpts from 1988’s Of Gravity & Angels. It is a quiet, contemplative poem. Birds and fish go about their lives in careful coexistence in a lakeside scene in which the speaker finds themself. It is not a poem that possesses memorable turns of phrase. However, its final three lines wax esoteric and leave readers returning to them: “And wonder how, bound to each other as we are / in a net of blue and gold, / we fail so often, in such ordinary ways.” The speaker’s assertion about humanity’s collective failure despite its undeniable interconnectedness is a message that should resonate loudly at this current point in world history where such interconnectedness seems irreparably broken.
“To Drink” is also featured as one of the excerpts from Of Gravity & Angels. While it does not possess the philosophical allure of “In a Net of Blue and Gold” or “Solstice,” it does revisit the subtle passion displayed in “And/Yes in the Fields You.” The opening line– “I want to gather your darkness”– conveys an immense sense of devotion. It possesses a melancholic, gothic appeal. As the poem continues, the speaker’s act transforms into one mimicking communion as the speaker longs to take the beloved’s darkness in their hands and “cup it like water / and drink.” This depiction creates a spirituality entirely its own, and, as the speaker continues, that spirituality manifests physically. The speaker asserts, “I want this the same way / as I want to touch your cheek–.” These lines also act as a distinctive tonal and emotional shift, and from this point forward, the speaker again relies on natural imagery to articulate human emotions. The speaker correlates their own passion to “the way a moth will come / to the bedroom window in late September” and “the way a horse will lower / its long head to water, and drink.” As the poem concludes, the speaker repeats the word “everything,” which emphasizes and re-emphasizes their devotion. In fact, the poem’s final line is the word “everything”–independent and unwavering.
After readers depart from the sensual experience offered by “To Drink,” they find themselves deep in the wilds of poetry, poetry’s purpose, Zen philosophy, and a variety of natural landscapes. However, the collection’s remaining poems lack the linguistic, sensual, and philosophical zing of the four poems mentioned in this review. Many of the poems are redundant in voice and structure, which might dissuade readers. Thus, as the reader continues through the collection, they are posed with two options: keep reading or close the book and find something else to quench their literary thirst.
Nicole Yurcaba (Ukrainian: Нікола Юрцаба–Nikola Yurtsaba) is a Ukrainian (Hutsul/Lemko) American poet and essayist. Her poems and essays have appeared in The Atlanta Review, The Lindenwood Review, Whiskey Island, Raven Chronicles, West Trade Review, Appalachian Heritage, North of Oxford, and many other online and print journals. Nicole teaches poetry workshops for Southern New Hampshire University and is a guest book reviewer for Sage Cigarettes, Tupelo Quarterly, Colorado Review, and The Southern Review of Books.
