Book Reviews

New and Collected Poems: 1931-2001
Czeslaw Milosz

I hesitated before recommending this book, and a rather large book at that (775 pages), of poetry. Many people are put off by the confusing nature of syntax, odd rhyming and the elusive nature of meaning in most modern poetry. Even if you are not a fan or regular reader of poetry this is a book to be greeted with respect and welcomed for its humanity.

Czeslaw Milosz worked with the Polish resistance in Warsaw during World War II, witnessed the devastation of Lithuania and Poland by Nazi and Stalinist tides, immigrated to France in 1951, and in 1960 became a professor of Slavic languages and literature at Berkeley. Milosz won the Nobel Prize in 1980. In other words this man lived a lot of life, life in dangerous and horrific times. He lived through what he wrote (he died in 2004 in his early 90’s). Much of his writing is a testimony to the human spirit to survive and hold on to some semblance of integrity while bestiality freely reigned. He wrote not of heroes but of most of us: survivors who feel a mix of guilt and contentment about our lives. Despite his many accomplishments Milosz was a man of humility, writing near the end of his busy life, “I feel relief thinking I was no better and no worse than many, and together with them I wait for forgiveness.” While many terrible events are chronicled here Milosz never loses sight of a perpetual promise of renewal in dreams, contemplation and observation of life’s simple pleasures and in honest self reflection. These are a few of many favorite passages: “I’m unkindly greeted by this awakened state. / During the day, on my cane, asthmatic, I creep. / But the night sees me off at the traveler’s gate. / And there, as at the outset the world is new and sweet.” And the delightful lines: “Cathedral of my enchantments, autumn wind, I grew old giving thanks.”

My suggestion: read a poem or two each night as a reminder of your humanity, both your goodness and your failings.