Synopses & Reviews
In the citation accompanying Kay's recent award of the prestigious Ruth Lilly Prize, Christine Wiman wrote: "Kay Ryan can take any subject and make it her own. Her poems-which combine extreme concision and formal expertise with broad subjects and deep feeling-could never be mistaken for anyone else's. Her work has the kind of singularity and sustained integrity that are very, very rare
. It's always a dicey business predicting the literary future
[but] for this reader, these poems feel as if there were built to last, and
they have the passion, precision and sheer weirdness to do so."
Salon compared the poems in Ryan's last collection to "Fabergé eggs, tiny, ingenious devices that inevitably conceal some hidden wonder." The exquisite poems in The Niagara River provide similarly hidden gems. Bafflingly effective, they seem too brief and blithe to pack so much wallop. Intense and relaxed at once, both buoyant and rueful, their singular music appeals to many people. Her poems, products of an immaculately off-kilter mind, have been featured everywhere from the Sunday funnies to New York subways to plaques at the zoo to the pages of The New Yorker.
"In two or three shifty sentences per short-lined poem, Ryan brazenly questions the extent to which we are in control of, and thus responsible for, our own and others' suffering. Her work, in this sixth collection, operates in an American tradition stretching from Dickinson through Stevens and Frost to Ammons and Bronk, where fidelity to the natural world works as a scrim for staging such self-exploration. Observing how we tolerate (and even invite) all kinds of limits on relationships and growth, the poet, over the course of 60-odd short lyrics, charts the false progress of cultivation: 'we keep on making / the best of it as though/ ...our garden/ could be one bean/ and we'd rejoice if/ it flourishes, as/ though one bean/ could nourish us.' As a group of friends float toward the inevitable falls, the Niagara River becomes a metaphor for arrogance in the face of greater forces: 'we do/ know this is the/ Niagara River, but/ it is hard to remember/ what that means.' Action, here, is more a way of heading off inevitable loss than claiming agency: 'It's/ like some form/ of skin's developed/ in the air/ that, rather/ than have torn,/ you tear.' Empathic and wryly unforgiving of the human condition, the poems are equal parts pith and punch. The effect is bracing." Publishers Weekly (Copyright Reed Business Information, Inc.)
Ryans poems make a singular, angular music thats not quite like any youve heard, with sharp edges, densities of sound and syntax that can acquire the most mysterious clarity, and rhymes that come at you in the same off-kilter way that the observations do. These poems feel as if they were built to last, and they have the passion, precision, and sheer weirdness to do so.” Christian Wiman, editor of Poetry
, from the citation accompanying The Ruth Lilly Poetry Prize
Her poems are compact, exhilarating, strange affairs, like Erik Satie miniatures or Joseph Cornell boxes. She is an anomaly in todays literary culture: as intense and elliptical as Dickinson, as buoyant and rueful as Frost.” J.D. McClatchy
Ryans poems leave the reader elevated or changed or moved but at a loss to say exactly how this effect has been wrought. Its like arm wrestling with the scrawny kid in the schoolyard who pins you before you know whats happened.” David Yezzi, Poetry
Full-brained poems in a largely half-brained world.” Kirkus Reviews
Its not Ryans logic that makes her poems breathe fire, its her illogic, delivered with calm precision, like a masterful change-up pitch.” Kate Moos, Ruminator Review
I cant think of another poet who makes me laugh as often as she makes me ponder the imponderables.” Laura Miller, Salon
Ryan brazenly questions the extent to which we are in control of, and thus responsible for, our own and others suffering. Her work . . . operates in an American tradition stretching from Dickinson through Stevens and Frost to Ammons and Bronk, where fidelity to the natural world works as a scrim for staging such self-exploration. . . . Empathic and wryly unforgiving of the human condition, the poems are equal parts pith and punch. The effect is bracing.” Publishers Weekly